SLEEPING DOGS (Animal Instincts Book 6) (3 page)

I tried to smile at them, being friendly. “No worries. I’ve had my dick whacked off a few times by her. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.” Mentally, I slapped myself for not getting her any underwear. I had a lot to learn about how to deal with women.

After a second with no demands on me, I walked to the door and left. The night air was cold, and I’d worked up a small sweat from my nerves and the situation. I got in my car and headed to the hospital.

I tried St. Anne Mercy first, and she was registered as a patient. They wanted to enforce visiting hours, but I showed them the bag, and they let me go to her room.

When I arrived, she wasn’t in bed. I checked the chart by the bed, and it had her name on it, so I knew I was in the right room. I sat down in the reclining chair and fell asleep.

I’d been out long enough for my neck to stiffen up when I heard a voice. “Wake up. What type of sentry are you when you fall asleep before the patient?”

I stretched and looked at her. The size of the bandage had been reduced and the blood was gone. It still looked bad, but not as scary as it had at her house. “Sorry, you weren’t here, so I feel asleep. I’m not used to this much excitement in one day.”

“Get used to it,” she said with a small smile. “You don’t have to hide out any more. There’s no boogieman to be afraid of.”

I grimaced at the statement. Changing my perspective on all that I had believed would be a massive undertaking, and one that I was not ready for at this time. I planned on waiting until Susan’s situation was corrected before even starting to work on that.

“I found the file. Nice touch by the way.” I patted the bag. “I’m not letting this out of my hands for a while.”

She made a face at me. “I would be careful saying that if I were you. Look where it got me. Go home, and figure out what’s worth attacking a police officer.”

I shook my head. “Tonight, I’m staying here with you. Tomorrow, I’ll go home and deal with the file. Besides, I figure that Mom and Sergeant Siever will be trying to contact me, and I need some rest before that happens.”

I made sure that she was comfortable, went for a cup of coffee, and while I was at it, I located a bank of copiers. Although I knew that they were for hospital use, I made the excuse that Sheila had been put in the hospital by these papers. I took the file and made six copies of it. Two sets were put in manila envelopes and mailed to my home and to Sheila’s house as well. This seemed to cover me. I placed two more sets with Sheila’s belongings, and then I sat down to read the file.

Sheila was out cold, so I felt no need to entertain her. The hospital was quiet, and though visiting hours were over, I felt that they’d probably given me a pass since she was a police officer and I was the boyfriend.

I wasn’t sure what perks came with dating someone, since Sheila was my first real romantic relationship. When I thought of the things I’d missed out on because of my sister’s disappearance, a lack of practical knowledge of dating was probably near the top of the list. I’d been so focused on not being kidnapped that the thought of allowing someone else into my life who could meet with a terrible fate petrified me. So I’d been alone for too many years. Susan in her own reasons for leaving had probably done all the dating things that I hadn’t, and I found that I resented her for this. Her attitude today had not been in the least repentant, and now that I knew she’d gone willingly and was fine, the anger over what she’d done to the rest of the family was starting to seep through.

The first thing I saw when I opened the police file was the blood. I’d read that the Frias killing had been gruesome, but nothing shows the extent to which that is true like photos. The first set of photos showed the corpse where the neck had been sliced so far through that the head was bent back at an angle that could never exist in life. Great pools of blood sat on either side of the body, puddling into black circles.

The next set of photos showed the walls of the room, where Frias had been killed. The blood went far beyond the normal splatter. It almost looked as if it had been smeared across surfaces on purpose. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to come home and find such a level of gore throughout your home. It was impossible to look anywhere without seeing the effects of the murder.

I felt a bit queasy by the time that I put aside the photos. Between the stress of Sheila’s injuries and the impact of the photos, my stomach was roiling. I decided to stop for a few minutes. I wandered the halls looking for a vending machine. I finally found one of the metal food boxes tucked in an alcove, and I fished out a few quarters for a candy bar. It would have to serve until I got home. I knew that the dogs would be fine until morning and The Countess, my rescue cat, could survive for days on the available cat food and disdain for humans.

I walked back to the room in silence. The rooms were mostly dark as I walked by them. The few nurses were on computers, checking vitals and recording information about their patients. No one paid much attention to me.

I ripped open the wrapper and took a bite of the candy bar. The police had interviewed the Gillespie family, parents and children. I read through the reports. All four of them had gone out to dinner. Belinda Frias had been alive and well when they’d left. The alibi was confirmed by the fact that the time of death was later than their departure. The restaurant had also confirmed their arrival and the time of the meal. Not to mention, none of them had arrived soaked in blood.

When they returned, Mrs. Gillespie and the girl had come in first and discovered the body. Mr. Gillespie and the son had stayed outside to put out the trash for the next morning. Mrs. Gillespie fainted. The girl screamed, and the father and son had come into the house almost at the same moment. No more than a minute had passed since the body had been discovered, which gave all of them a solid alibi for the crime.

I studied the statement for a while, but I couldn’t see anything that would make me doubt the statement. I was just naturally suspicious, and an airtight alibi was something that I always doubted. Most people could cover part of a day or some of a time period, but a solid, can’t be broken alibi is a rare thing. It made me suspect the family immediately.

Putting that aside, I thought about Susan. If she’d witnessed the crime, then she would have been at the crime scene roughly between 5:45 and 7pm that evening. We were creatures of habit at home, and we ate promptly every night at 6:30. That meant, allowing for time to travel home approximately two miles that she’d have left the Gillespie house no later than 6:10 or so. I was going with the theory that she was on a bicycle, but obviously if she was in a car, the times would be different. So the murder had occurred sometime between 5:45 and 6:10, a much smaller window than originally given by the police.

However, just like in the case with my sister, the murder had taken place over a decade ago. Practically speaking, I had no way of finding out what my sister had been doing on that particular day at that particular time. No one had noticed, and years had passed. Unless it was tied to a major event or a personal memory, there was just no way of telling where she had been or what she’d been doing. I doubted that my mother would be forthcoming on the information, even if she could.

I tried to think of a way to learn this information, but without asking my mother or Susan, both of whom would resent the intrusion, I had no way of pinpointing her whereabouts at the time of the murder. It would be difficult for me to learn why she’d been there.

Since I was having so little luck on finding out the link between Susan and the crime, I decided to just approach the crime as a murder case and see what I could locate. Hopefully, if I could solve the crime and give the police the solution, then Susan would not be worried about returning home or forging a relationship with the rest of the family. While it was not the aspect of the crime that I wanted to focus on, it did give me a way to provide a resolution to the matter.

Having decided to approach the family, I started looking through the files. The kids would be adults now and wouldn’t still be living at home. So I would have three households to contact in order to get more information. Without the official police permission, I would be asking questions as a civilian, which meant I had to find a way in the door. For me, that had always been pets. So I forced myself to look through the photos again, specifically looking just for pets or pet-related items in the crime scene. Finally in the kitchen photos, I saw a dog bowl.

While it had been long enough that the dog from the photos would likely have passed away, it gave me something to focus on. I thought that if I could offer my services to the family for free, then I might be able to talk to the family more. It seemed like the best bet, and since I’d confirmed that the family had pets, it was a safe bet that the children did as well.

I read a few more pages of the report, but nothing so far in the file gave me any understanding as to why someone would attack Sheila for it. The police seemed to be as baffled by the crime as I was. I dozed for a few hours, sleeping in the chair beside the bed. The nurse came in a few times to check on Sheila, but she slept soundly and without issue.

The next morning came too fast, and I was up at a few minutes after 6am. Another nurse had come in to examine Sheila. I was shunted out of the room, and I headed to the vending machines again for coffee. I took the police file with me and read a few more pages of the questioning while I filled myself with caffeine. I checked my watch and knew that I’d have to go home soon.

The police had next interviewed the Frias family about the crime. Again no one seemed to know any reason why Belinda Frias would be targeted for murder. It seemed impossible to understand. She had a quiet life, and her family claimed that no one had a grudge against the woman.

One aspect that the police did not examine was the possibility that Frias had uncovered something criminal during her rounds to the various houses she cleaned. I knew that merely observing what you see in a person’s house can help you determine what’s going on. Hours of cleaning and putting away things in the home would provide you with a much more detailed look at what went on in the home. I wasn’t sure how to find out Frias’ schedule, but I would definitely work on that as well. It could prove enlightening.

I flipped through the remaining pages of the report, but there was little of interest to me. The police had interviewed two sexual predators who lived in the area. One of them lived only a few houses from where we lived at the time, and where my mother still lived. I was shocked to see the address listed. I couldn’t put a face to the name, but I knew about where on the street the house had to be. Nothing should have surprised me about my childhood anymore, but it sent a shiver of shock up my spine.

I returned to the room. Sheila was up and dressed, looking impatient for something. I kissed her lightly on the cheek and gave her a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I just want to go home. I need a shower and a change of clothes,” she replied. She did have bed head, but even with my lack of relationship skills, I knew enough to keep that to myself.

“I understand. What did the doctor say?” I looked around but the nurses were not to be seen.

“Waiting on him now,” she replied. She glanced down at the folder in my hand. “No fair. I get knocked on the head and you get to read the file before me. Something’s not right about that.”

I shook my head. “I learned from the best. You’d probably read the file after you called 911, if the roles were reversed.” I gave her a smile to let her know that I was joking. In the times where I’d legitimately been in trouble, Sheila had acted quickly and doggedly.

“Well?” she asked, drawing the word out. She held out a hand for the folder.

I wasn’t sure that she was in the best shape to be reading a police file, but given the circumstances, I didn’t feel I had the right to withhold it from her. She’d been the one to procure it, and she’d been the one who was attacked for it. With a sigh, I gave her the file. “There’s not a lot in there to help.”

“Great,” she said as she flipped through the pages, “I got knocked on the head for nothing. That’s what everyone wants to hear.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why anyone would care about this file. I mean, it’s good police work, but it’s nothing that’s going to point a finger at any one person. It’s pretty bland as far as investigations go.”

Sheila nodded and flipped the page again. “I’m going to have to agree with you here,” she said finally. “It looks good, but nothing substantial. They went through the motions, but there were no real leads. Those are the worst cases to have. You keep hoping that something will turn up, but no matter how much police work you do, nothing does.”

“I have a few ideas on where to go next, but nothing definite. I’m just going to wing it.” It felt odd for me to tell her this, as normally I was the one waiting at home for her to call with the information. With Sheila not feeling great, I would now have to do the leg work as best as I could.

The doctor finally showed up and cleared Sheila to leave. Much to her chagrin, she was not permitted to work for a few days until her headache cleared up and the swelling went down. She argued with the doctor, but he stood his ground. I was glad to see that he was as stubborn as she was.

So instead of winging it, I now wondered if I had a full-time Watson with me. Sheila was not the type to sit at home and knit, so I knew that she’d be worse than me about getting into trouble with this case.  I didn’t know that this was a good thing for the investigation or the relationship, but I didn’t bring that up.