The Second Coming (25 page)

“I suppose he could,” Kate replied hesitantly.

“Would it be possible that the host would not be aware of the fact that they actually got out of bed to make the meal, but instead mistook the act of cooking the meal as a dream?”

“I’ve never read of a case where a person mistakes the actions of another personality as a dream, but I suppose it is possible,” Kate reluctantly admitted. “Why don’t you tell me about this theory of yours?”

Mike took a deep breath. “I have a person who claims to have dreams where he watches the murders happen through the eyes of the killer.”

“Do you believe him?” Kate asked in disbelief. “You don’t think he’s making it up to gain attention?”

“I have reason to believe that he doesn’t think he killed these women, but I don’t believe that the ‘dreams’ he has are really dreams either,” Mike explained cautiously. “I think it is possible that when he goes to sleep, his alter personality, the Sterling Killer, goes out and makes himself a 3 course dinner, so to speak, and when he awakes, he mistakes the memory he has of killing these women as dreams.”

There was silence on the phone and Mike knew he was on to something. “You think the Sterling Killer is this guy’s alter personality?” Kate clarified in stunned disbelief.

“It’s a possibility that we’re looking into,” Mike said in a congratulatory tone.

“Who is this person?” Kate asked in disbelief.

Mike leaned back in his chair and rubbed his head. “That’s the best part,” he explained hesitantly. “His name is Father John Carpenter. He’s a monk.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“We’re checking his background and his alibi, but he claims he sees the murders as they happen in his dreams.”

“This sounds like your typical psychic using the information that is out there to claim that they can help solve the case.”

“I would agree,” Mike said cautiously. “Except that he knows something about the crime scene that has not been released to the public.”

“What is that?”

“The Sterling Killer leaves a symbol smeared in the victims’ blood and he was able to draw it for me, he claims, based upon what he saw in his dreams.”

“Couldn’t he have got the symbol from someone in the police department?”

“We’re looking into it, but there are only a few people who know about it.”

“It seems to me there are only three options here,” Kate summarized. “Either someone leaked the symbol to him and he is using it to gain notoriety
or he has a multiple personality who is the Sterling Killer or he is actually having dreams where he sees the murders.”

“Exactly,” Mike said relieved. “Which one of those options seems the most likely to you?”

“I think it is highly improbable that he is telepathically channeling the Sterling Killer in his dreams. I think it is most likely that someone leaked the symbol to him and he is using it to make a name for himself as a psychic.”

“Yes, but it is possible that he has an alter personality who is the Sterling Killer, is it not?”

“It’s possible that a host could mistake an alter personality’s actions as their dream, especially when the host doesn’t realize he has multiple personalities and his last waking memory is of going to sleep. Why does he think he is having the dreams?”

“He is a man of faith and believes that God is giving him the dreams so that he can help catch the Sterling Killer.”

“Have you told him about your multiple personality theory?”

“Not yet,” Mike explained. “I wanted to talk to you first and get your professional opinion.”

“This is almost too good to be true,” Kate surmised skeptically. “Where is the Father now?”

“He went home to be with his terminally ill father. We have him under surveillance in case he tries anything, but we don’t have any evidence to hold him and I didn’t want to risk alienating him and losing his trust. Is there any way we could arrange a time for you to meet with him and give me your professional opinion?”

Mike could hear her soft breath reverberate in his ear as she checked her schedule. “How about tomorrow morning at 9:00 am?”

“That would be great,” Mike replied emphatically. “I’ll set it up with the Father and plan on seeing you then. Should I call you at this number if he is not able to be here?”

“Let me give you my cell number instead,” Kate said with a sweet whisper and then repeated her number.

“Thank you for your help,” Mike said sincerely. “I really appreciate your time and expertise.”

“If this Monk turns out to have a multiple personality that is the Sterling Killer, it is I who will be thanking you. It would make for the most fascinating case study.”

chapter
44

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Mike awoke in the faint darkness of his room suddenly and at full alert. As he rolled over to look at the digital 5:16 glowing on his clock, he realized that for the first time in a long time, he did not wake up tired and groggy. Quite on the contrary; he felt refreshed and reinvigorated. He lay quietly in his plush bed staring at the wood ceiling fan that was slowly twirling above him. Slowly and enjoyably he began to stretch his muscles, starting with his feet and legs and working his way up to his back, neck and arms.

Usually he would have reluctantly dragged his ass out of bed, but today he hopped up enthusiastically. Gone was the loss of equilibrium stemming from the head injury and coma. He rubbed his hand lightly over the shaved stubble until he felt the bulging of the scar tissue like a caterpillar molded into his skin. It was still tender to the touch, but was healing much faster than he anticipated. He felt strong like he could take the world in his hand, crush it like a wad of paper, throw it up in the air and punt it across the universe.

It was the same invincible feeling he used to have when he was younger, before all of the late nights of partying and dragon slaying took away his zest for life and turned him into a wondering participant who would’ve just as soon preferred to be a spectator on the sideline. How did he allow that to happen?

Today he was going to kick some ass. He could feel the blood coursing through his muscles as he put on his t-shirt, shorts and shoes and went for a jog.

It was damp and foggy in the early morning dawn as the alternating sound of his rubber souls wicked on the street. Everything looked different
and new as though seeing it for the first time. Mike had lived in this neighborhood for almost 10 years and went jogging on the narrow tree lined roads that wound their way up to the foothills of Mount Diablo many times before, but today he noticed for the first time the different ranch style houses that were hidden behind the tall Oak trees and lush green shrubs. How did he not notice them before? He was amazed at the rolling grass yards of the neighborhood that until today, he idly went by without taking notice.

And then it dawned on him; it had been 5 days since he drank or did any drugs. That was a long time for him and he felt great. This must be what people who don’t party feel like every day. Mike always thought it was strange that there were people who didn’t drink and he pitied them in a way because, as he liked to joke, when they woke up in the morning, that was as good as they were going to feel. Now he understood why they didn’t need to drink. Damn, if he knew sobriety felt this good he would have quit drinking a long time ago. It had been so long since he experienced pure, unencumbered sobriety that he forgot how awe inspiring life without drugs and alcohol could be. He didn’t even crave them. He could get used to this. He rounded the turn and headed down the home stretch and then trotted to a walk in his driveway with his hands on his hips.

This window of sobriety was all that he needed to remind himself how enjoyable life could be when he wasn’t passing through it in a haze of mind altered numbness. He could go without partying and what’s more, he was excited to be sober. Everything was better. His mind was clearer and sharper and his body was stronger and more agile. Even his heart felt like it had been given a tune up and didn’t have to work as strenuously as it normally did. This was how he wanted to live the rest of his life. If everyone with a drinking problem could get the brief gift of sobriety that Mike was given, he was sure that they all would quit.

He was certain that his sober mental and physical state would also help him solve the Sterling Killer case and he was eagerly anticipating Dr. Wilson meeting Father John. He had a preeminent feeling that today things were going to fall into place. It was going to be a great day. He walked inside to get ready for work. Today was the first day of the rest of Mike’s life and he was determined to make the most of it.

chapter
45

W
HEN
M
IKE BOUNDED
through the swinging doors of the homicide department at a little after 8:00 am, there were a few detectives sitting at their desks talking on the phone or clicking away on their keyboards. Mike strode through the room wearing a dark blue beanie cap and his normal attire of boots, jeans and a long sleeve button down shirt. He nodded and smiled at everyone who made eye contact with him and acknowledged a few people by emphatically pointing his finger at them. It was a glorious morning as he made his way over to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water and then shut the door with his foot using a spin move as he proceeded over to his desk and logged onto his computer.

After checking his emails and voicemails and catching up on the morning blotter, Mike guzzled what was left of his bottle of water and then from his seat, held it above his head like a basketball and shot it across the room into the waste can next to Big Pete’s desk. The empty bottle rattled the insides as Mike held his hands up in victory looking around to see if anyone saw his buzzer beating shot. Eddie, a Puerto Rican with dark hair and a thin mustache smiled and gave Mike the thumbs up as he continued talking on his phone at his desk. It was going to be one of those days that he could do no wrong.

It was 8:51 on his computer monitor when he heard two muffled female voices on the other side of the swinging doors. He recognized the chirpy voice as Jeanna, who was the short, round African American gatekeeper and administrator of the homicide department and the other sultry voice as that of Dr. Kate Wilson. Mike leaned back in his chair staring at the swinging doors with a knowing smirk on his face as he waited for them to make their grand entrance.

As the doors swung open, Mike watched with the interest of a bull-fighter as Jeanna ambled through first, dressed in her uniform, still talking to Kate who was behind her, but yet to appear. When she finally flowed through the doors in her high heels, business skirt and sport coat, Mike rose to his feet in a hazy stupor. She was stunning. Her seductive eyes shimmered under her fluttering lashes. As the two women approached Mike, Jeanna introduced them. Mike offered his hand to Kate, whose full arching lips revealed gleaming white teeth like a discovered treasure. She made Angelina Jolie look homely.

“Nice to meet your acquaintance,” Mike said properly with a warm smile as he held his left hand behind his back and gave a brief bow like he was at a formal ball.

“Nice to meet you as well,” Kate said flattered. “Jeanna was just telling me how worried she was about you when you were in your coma.”

Mike tilted his head with a surprised gaze towards Jeanna. “That’s very nice of you Jeanna,” he told her affectionately. “Jeanna is the mother of the homicide department. She’s always watching out for all of us.”

“Somebody’s got to do it,” Jeanna quipped. “Most of these dumb asses are divorced or have never been married. They need a woman to keep them in line.”

Jeanna and Kate shared a cordial laugh as Mike watched entertained. Kate and Jeanna exchanged pleasantries and then Jeanna said goodbye and Mike watched as her big, round ass bounced out through the swinging doors.

“Thank you for coming in this morning,” Mike said as he grabbed a file off his desk. “I really appreciate any help you can give me on this.”

“I’m glad you called,” Kate said effervescently. “I’ve been following the murders and I hope I can be of some assistance before it’s too late.”

Mike stood to the side and held his arm out gesturing past all of the other detectives sitting at their desks as he tried to play it cool. “After you.”