Fallen Giant Page 6

  “I thought I could make a difference,” she whispered. She blinked back the tears because this was no time to cry. “I didn’t realize that no one wanted me to make a difference.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  Trish took a deep breath. “Something is wrong in Magnolia. Someone is wrong in Magnolia.” She blew out the deep breath and looked over at him. “That someone is killing people.”

  *****

  How hard it must have been for Trish to finally trust him enough to talk to him. To explain all of this to him. He watched her struggle, now looking for the words, not the strength or the courage. Finally she blew out a breath, her bangs fluttering.

  “Okay, first you need to know why I’m here.”

  “All right.”

  “I grew up in Georgia. All I ever wanted was to be a cop. Homicide. I dreamed of it.”

  She was turned to him and he saw her eyes glitter with the thought. “Dreamed of homicide?” he asked, cocking a brow.

  “No!” she retorted, irritated. “Dreamed of helping people. Solving mysteries. Catching the bad guy.” She gazed out the windshield and sighed. “That’s all I ever wanted. To help. I became a cop and I finally made it to homicide. I finally thought I’d made it…” She looked down, played with the tie on her file folder. “There was a murder. It was bad. I mean, bad-bad. But it was odd, too. Things didn’t fit. Evidence, interviews, suspects. I was the lead investigator and everyone urged us to arrest someone. But I didn’t think the evidence was right. I just couldn’t pull the trigger.”

  When she was silent, Levi filled in the blanks, the things she couldn’t say. She was a woman, a strong woman. That could frighten some. Emasculate others. He could even hear the arguments she would have had with those buffoons in Georgia.

  “I refused to arrest the suspect. I didn’t think the evidence would hold up.” She snapped the tie on her file folder and looked out her window. “They replaced me as lead investigator and eventually railroaded me off the force altogether.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “My parents were upset. My dad was a cop, my mom was a lawyer. They asked why I didn’t just arrest the guy.”

  “What happened to the case?”

  She smirked. “They arrested the suspect a day after I walked out. While the prosecutors decided if the evidence would hold up in court, another murder occurred. They had to let him go. The guy I thought had done it, the guy I told them all along had done it, was arrested two weeks later.”

  “He in prison?”

  “For life,” she confirmed. “The chief came to see me. Asked me to come back. I refused. I’d already reached out and found Sheriff Grande. At the time, Mayor Jefferson was still alive. I thought I could relax here. I thought I could find a home here…”

  “And now you have Mayor Elliott.”

  “He’s an asshole,” Trish spat.

  Levi chuckled. “No arguments there.”

  “So the kidney and the lung.” She turned again, her hair swishing as her big blue eyes found his face. Her focus was laser-like. Her past was just that, her past. She moved on, put it behind her and moved the fuck on. Sure it had hurt, but she was here now and this case meant everything to her. He could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. Again he thought, hell of a detective.

  “Yeah. Not on your wall,” he agreed.

  “Right. Perfect reason for that. His name is Mayor Elliott.”

  Levi frowned. “What does he have to do with it?”

  “He knew about it.”

  She might have thought that made sense to him, but he was lost. He raised his brows. “Uh, sure. That doesn’t help me—”

  “It wasn’t on my wall, but he knew about it.”

  Now Levi glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

  Trish rolled her eyes at him. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  “Apparently.”

  The look she gave him was priceless, but she humored him. “I went out to the first crime scene. Came back with photos, evidence, all sorts of stuff. I’m going through it in my office, doing paperwork for evidence to send it off, that kind of thing. My wall isn’t even started at that point, but I did put up one picture, just one, of the victim. One 8x10 photo.”

  She scrabbled through her file folder, pulling out picture after picture, replacing them and muttering to herself. Until finally…“This one.” She held it up so Levi could see it. “The mayor comes in, end of day, has a shouting match with the sheriff, then comes in my office. I’m bracing myself because I really don’t want to go through this crime scene with another person, but that’s not what he does. He walks right up to the photo. This photo,” she said while shaking it. “And says to me, ‘Is the body missing both kidneys?’” She stopped, her expression one of expectation. “He asked me if the body was missing both kidneys, Levi.”

  “All right, all right, calm down.” Levi took the photo out of her hand and glanced at it while driving. “What the fuck?” he muttered. The mass in the picture could barely be considered as once being human. How anyone determined if an organ was missing, any organ, from that photo was ridiculous.

  “Right?” Trish demanded.

  He handed the photo back. “Let me get this straight. He didn’t come out to the crime scene…”

  “Nope.”

  “Did the sheriff show him or tell him anything?”

  She snatched the photo out of his hand. “Nope. I asked. Besides,” she continued. “No one even knew that kidney was missing until after the autopsy.” She put the picture back in her folder. “All the innards were on the bottom and who even knows if that person came with two kidneys, you know what I’m saying? So how did he know?”

  Levi ran a finger along his moustache. “And the lung? Did he know about the lung?”

  She sighed. “Yes. After the second murder he sat in my office studying the picture and finally he said something like ‘We might be missing a lung.’” She squinted at Levi. “How would he know?”

  Something stunk in Magnolia, of that Levi was sure. And it could very well be the mayor. Levi sighed. “Yeah, how would he know.” He paused, then glanced over at Trish, her face flushed and her eyes bright. “But then why am I here?”

  “To put it to bed quickly? To jump on the Satanist bandwagon?” Trish dropped back in her seat, her head listing sideways to stare out at the passing scenery. “I don’t know. But trust me, I’m going to figure it out.”

  *****

  Colton tiptoed out of his bedroom, the sounds of his mother’s party having wound down about an hour before. He paused in the hallway and tried to judge if anyone in the living room was still awake. Purposely, he stepped on the floorboard that creaked, then waited for someone to notice. When no one did, he moved to the edge of the hallway and peeked around the corner.

  His mother was passed out on the couch, her boyfriend passed out on the recliner. The television was on, a baseball game being played on mute. Curtains billowed out over the broken down recliner, catching on the boyfriend’s nose and blowing hot air into an even hotter room. Between himself and freedom was another man stretched out on the floor, his face smashed into the carpet, bloody drool pooling under him.

  Colton winced.

  Of course, he’d done this before. Snuck out of the house. Tiptoed past the men his mother brought home. It was just, at the young age of eleven, he was getting tired of it all.

  Colton didn’t risk going back to his room for anything, or even running to the bathroom. His bladder could wait until he got to the gas station. He’d stuffed a twenty dollar bill into his back pocket before he’d left his room and a ten was hidden in his shoe. The old man at the gas station wouldn’t let him use the bathroom if he didn’t buy something.

  Stealthily, he slid around the corner of the wall, into the living room. Luckily he and his mother had little in the way of furniture, so the couch, recliner, and coffee table were it and they weren’t in his way. Not like the man on the floor was.

  Colton decided he could walk across t
he coffee table, jump off the other side, and make it to the door. But then he caught sight of the mess on the table and chose not to walk through the broken hypodermic needle, the lingering rocks of drugs, the empty baggies, or the drips of blood.

  Only one way, then.

  He stepped softly, thoughtfully. He planned out his steps before he even took them, careful to not dislodge a piece of the man’s dirty hair. The heels of his sneakers never touched the ground and he moved quickly. Over one arm, then the next, past the discarded syringe and what looked like vomit. His heart beat against his ribs, but he was almost home free—

  Hands grabbed him around the ankles and Colton stuttered to a stop. He pitched forward, landing awkwardly on his right side. Pain skidded up his arm and he tried not to whimper. But hey, he was eleven.

  The hands dragged him closer and Colton tried to scramble away. He managed to kick out and felt his foot connect with the guy who’d been passed out only moments ago.

  “Ow, you little fucker!”

  Colton struggled fiercely, even with the pain in his arm, but the man hooked a hand in his jeans waistband and dragged him backward. Colton couldn’t stop the movement and there was nothing to hang onto. The guy was kneeling now, his bloody drool staining his scraggly beard.

  “Stop fighting, you shit,” the guy muttered. He cuffed Colton upside the head, hard enough that Colton’s ear started to ring.

  He put a hand to his ear and the man took advantage of the moment Colton used to protect his ear. The man yanked him back, his body jarring hard against the floor. Then the man started digging through Colton’s pockets.

  “Your ma says you always got money.”

  Colton attempted to pull away, but the man’s grip was too strong. He looked over his shoulder at his mother, still out. But she wouldn’t help him anyway, would she? When the man’s hand fumbled into Colton’s back pocket and found the bent, folded twenty dollar bill, he crowed in triumph.

  “Yep! The bitch was right!” He shoved Colton to the side.

  The little boy scrambled away before the guy could look anywhere else. This wasn’t the first time he’d been robbed by one of his mother’s men. It probably wouldn’t be the last. That’s why he always kept money in his shoe. He’d learned.

  Now Colton watched the man scrabble to his feet. He listed to the side, coming down off his high. Colton slid away from him as the man stumbled past him to the door, going to look for more drugs with his stolen money.

  Colton looked over at his mother again. Still passed out. The hot wind ruffled over her and Colton glanced away as the pain inside of his little boy chest began to ache. He painfully got to his feet and went to the door, still open from when the thief left. He peeked out, and seeing nothing, hightailed his way to where he’d hidden his bike.

  He didn’t bother to shut the door behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  The smell of decomposition always got to Trish. These murders it seemed to be worse because of the absolute disregard for the body and the person it had once been. She surreptitiously covered her mouth and nose with her hand.

  She glanced up at the medical examiner, who was still arranging pieces of the victim on the stainless steel. The man concentrated on painstakingly recreating the person this mash of humanity once had been.

  “It’s a male,” the ME said offhandedly. “We’re missing skin on the fingers and the teeth, of course, so it’ll be harder to trace the identity, but the body is male.” He poked a jagged edge of thigh bone back into place when it crunched to the side. After, he looked up at Trish and Levi. “Ready?”

  Trish didn’t answer, but Levi grunted. No. They weren’t ready. But they had to do this.

  “Young. I’d say about fifteen? Fifteen to twenty if I had to give a range. Unlike the other bodies, I can tell you that this one was killed by having his throat slit. The wound is still visible on that piece of the body.” The ME waved a hand toward the top of the table. “Some of the dismemberment occurred anti-mortem, some post. I’ll give you a list of which is which. You can tell by how the blood coagulated. That’s not the important part right now.”

  The ME, the same one that had arrived to take possession of the body, leaned down and lifted a large section of the torso. He pointed with a gloved hand to a pile of goo underneath. “Do you know what that is?”

  Trish grimaced beneath her hand. “No.”

  Levi swore.

  The ME looked up at Levi with a grimace of his own. “Liver,” he said succinctly. “Half eaten.”

  Trish closed her eyes, swaying slightly.

  The ME continued. “There are cuts along the torso, directly above the liver, that indicate the murderer specifically went for the liver. I believe the victim was still alive when this occurred. But probably not for much longer after that.”

  “Are any other organs missing?”

  “Part of the pancreas. There’s no appendix either, but that could have been removed long before the victim was killed so I don’t believe that’s relevant.”

  Trish couldn’t look anymore. As much as she wanted to speak for this victim, find his killer and throw the book at them, she just could not open her eyes. She didn’t want to find more of these mutilated bodies. She didn’t want there to be such evil in this world.

  A warm hand tucked against her lower back, pulled her close to Levi’s side. She slowly relaxed against him, using him to stay upright. Sometimes the horror of what one human being could do to another was just too much to bear.

  Levi moved a hand over her hip, making sure she leaned into him. She even felt the rumble of his voice as he asked the doctor questions.

  “And the bite marks?”

  “Human,” the ME responded. “Bits of flesh are ripped off in certain…areas of the body.”

  Trish recoiled further. Levi’s warmth and protection flooded through her. Just right now she couldn’t handle this. Away from the body would be better, but not right now.

  “We’ll search recent missing persons’ files,” Levi finally said. “And we’ll get your report this afternoon, maybe?”

  “Tomorrow,” the ME corrected. “May I say something?”

  For this, Trish opened her eyes, steeling herself for the morbid, crass remains lying so naked on the table. She met the ME’s troubled gaze. “Doctor?” She mustered some sort of professionalism. She’d never lost it before. Not even with the other two bodies. But this one? No, this couldn’t go on. This was too much.

  “These crimes aren’t the work of a Satanist. I know your mayor wants them to be. And I know he wants this closed up neat and tidy. I just don’t think that’s going to happen.” He moved to the table behind him, stripping off one latex glove and grabbing a long pair of tweezers instead. He picked up a single jagged piece of paper and set it, writing side up, on the stainless steel table next to the body. “This was found in the jeans pocket. It’s torn, but I don’t think the murderer did that. I think the boy did. Another torn piece was found under the body, but it was blank.”

  “What does this say?” Trish asked, frowning and leaning closer.

  “I’ll send you a copy, but it’s part of a report card.”

  “A report card?” Levi asked.

  “I think it’s from the high school in the town nearest Magnolia.” The ME sighed. “I don’t think we’re looking for a stranger. And I don’t think this boy was a transient, even if the others were.” He looked from Trish to Levi, then back again. “Detective, you have a serial killer on your hands.”

  *****

  Trish almost stumbled from the room. But she managed to regain her composure on the way out, even murmuring that she had to use the ladies’ room. She didn’t run there, either. But once inside she hurried into the biggest stall and dry heaved into the toilet.

  She slid down onto the floor and blotted her mouth with some toilet paper. She flushed and calmly tried to control her racing heart.

  There’d never been a time where she’d had a reaction this strongly to a m
urder. But then…this wasn’t just a murder was it? Tears welled in her eyes. Someone was missing their kid tonight because she couldn’t stop some serial killer. To be torn open and eaten while you were still alive? Who did that?

  She heard the door to the hall open.

  “Trish?”

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Fucking Levi. “Yes?” she called out. Immediately she cursed her voice for trembling.

  The door shut and she heard his boots on the tile. “You okay?”

  And there were the tears again. What was wrong with her? “I’m fine,” she said. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t make herself get up and go out there to face the world.

  She saw Levi’s boots stop in front of the stall. Then his grossly, inappropriately big hands gripped either side of the metal, one on the door, the other on the makeshift wall, and pulled. The lock popped open and he shoved his way into the stall with her, then fiddled with the locking mechanism until it locked behind him.

  She couldn’t find it within her to even care about him barging in.

  He walked to her, then slid down the wall to sit next to her. His big legs stretched out in front of them and he took her hand gently.

  All she wanted was to lean on him. So she did.

  Her head hit his muscular upper arm and she flipped her palm over so they were holding hands.

  “You okay?” he asked again, softly, his deep voice rumbling in her ear.

  She shook her head against his shoulder.

  “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me either.”

  “He was just a kid.” The tears threatened again, and she did nothing to stop them. She even let them drip off her nose onto his shirt. Sometimes, you just had to lose it. She was losing it. Big time. With a man she barely knew. A man she probably shouldn’t trust. But she couldn’t find it within herself to care about that right now.

  “We’ll find out who that poor boy is,” Levi reassured her. “Then we’ll find out who did this to him.”

  “Will we?” she mumbled.

  “Hey.” He nudged her slightly so she’d sit up, but then he turned and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’m here to help. And we’re going to fight. And we’re going to win.”