Guilty Deeds: A Gripping Serial Killer Thriller (A Caine & Murphy Thriller Book 2) Read online

  3

  Transgressions

  DAY 1 - NIGHT

  Detective’s Eva Murphy and Eddie Larson sat at Musso & Frank’s nursing cocktails at an old-fashioned booth. Eva was used to catching a beer at a dive bar but Larson insisted on this place. She’d never been here before but Musso & Franks was one of the oldest restaurants in Los Angeles, opening its doors in 1927. The decor had changed little since then. It was a nice change of pace for them.

  “Have you been here before?” Eva asked.

  “My girlfriend brought me here. It’s one of her favorites,” he said and cracked his first smile of the night.

  “Girlfriend? Is it serious?”

  Larson nodded, his face lighting up. “Very. She’s...special,” he said and his smile widened.

  “Tell me about her. How’d you meet?” Eva asked.

  “Veronica is an ER doctor,” he began. “And we met during my last case. She was the admitting physician at Glendale and is incredible,” he shook his head in wonder.

  “Quite the accomplished lady. She sounds spectacular, Eddie, really,” she said. He took a swig of his martini and nodded again.

  “I got lucky. I really did.”

  “You deserve it,” she added. Larson shrugged and looked away from her. She had to do it now.

  “You were right. I should have told you what I was up too. You were my partner and I should have never left you out of it. I understand why you feel the way you do,” Eva said in a rush. He stared at her in silence.

  “I’ve asked for a transfer,” he said. Eva gulped down her drink.

  “To where?”

  “I was hoping somewhere in the Valley. Veronica works in Glendale and it would be nice to be closer to her.”

  “When did you do that?” Eva asked.

  “Several weeks ago. I got the confirmation today. This will be my last case in Hollywood Division.” Eva stared down into her drink, unsure of how to respond.

  “Was it because of me?”

  “I can’t trust a partner that won’t trust me,” he stated matter-of-fact. Eva cursed to herself. She’d waited too long to have this talk. Thinking she kept him safe from the inevitable fallout, she assumed he’d understand. They’d been partners for eight years and she knew him. Of course, he’d be pissed about being left out of the action. So why did she do it? Maybe her behavior was something she needed to think about.

  “I understand,” was all she said. They sat in silence staring at each other across the table. She had to admit to herself she couldn’t believe he had gone through with it though. Actually asked for a transfer. She shook her head. She should have known this would happen.

  “What?” He asked.

  Eva nodded. “She’s dead. You know that, right?”

  “Who?”

  “Jennifer Ross. I’m sure of it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Eva shrugged. “I can’t explain it. Something is really off with this case. I feel we will be finding a body. And soon.”

  Johan stood in the doorway and stared at the quiet form of Sara Caine in the hospital bed. It was about a month since the Jerry Killer kidnapped her and her eyes never opened. The streetlight illuminated the room in a sodium yellow glow and made the whole tableau seem surreal. Johan shuffled to her bedside and pulled the nearest chair over. He took her small hand, pulling the tubes aside, and grasped it in his own. His tears came as he caressed her fingers with his lips.

  Sobs shook his body and overwhelmed him. He buried his face into her side and let all the frustration and worry and hurt out through tears. When he spent all his energy, he lifted his head and stared up into her face.

  “You will come out of this coma, Sara. I promise you. I will wake you up by any means necessary. I promise.” She didn’t move.

  Eva threw her purse down onto boxes alongside the front door and strode over to the kitchen. It took some rummaging to find her bottle of Jack Daniels and a small glass. She poured herself a shot and threw it back. He was leaving her. She couldn’t believe it but he was leaving her. Eva poured herself one more and wandered back into her living room.

  She had unpacked none of the boxes in here either. The room held a worn brown couch, a lamp she got from a rummage sale, and a pockmarked and stained wood coffee table. Towers of boxes filled up the rest of the space. She should unpack, she thought.

  Eva flopped down on the couch and took another sip of the whiskey. Getting drunk felt good regardless of the impending hangover. All she wanted was the warmth and numbness it provided. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of her new home. Even though she’d lived here for such a short time, she was already familiar with the creaks and groans it emitted, especially noticeable in the middle of the night.

  She finished the glass and put it on the coffee table. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. Loneliness had been her constant companion this last month. Eddie Larson would no longer be her partner.

  He wanted to leave her. He didn’t trust her. Just like that. One mistake and it was all over. How many mistakes had she forgave him over the years? The unnecessary force with suspects, his temper flaring up in interrogation, she had always forgiven him. Her one transgression would not be forgiven, however. She had stepped over some invisible line and could never go back. Her lids felt heavier and she let the sleep come.

  Eva awoke with a start. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the dark room, straining to hear the sound that woke her up. There it was again, footsteps. They came from her hall. She slid off the couch and headed straight for her gun belt.

  She pulled it out and peered into the darkness of the hallway.

  The footsteps stopped.

  Her heart beat in her ears as she padded forward into the hallway and flicked on the light, her gun at the ready. The hallway stood empty.

  The footsteps grew fainter, and she followed them into the small bathroom and flicked on that light. Her red-rimmed eyes stared back at her.

  “You’re drunk,” she slurred at her reflection. “Put that gun down or you’ll hurt yourself.” She returned the gun to its holster. The whole night had gotten to her. She flicked off the light and glanced back at the mirror.

  The man standing behind her stared back at her.

  She whipped around, her finger on the trigger. The hallway behind her stood empty.

  She checked the reflection again. Her terrified face stared back at her. The man was gone.

  Eva rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She needed to sleep this off. Her stress triggered a hallucination. At least, the hallucination was a handsome man, she thought.

  Wobbling to her bedroom, she pulled off her jeans and threw them into the dirty clothes pile to the right of the bed.

  She placed the gun on her nightstand and fell headfirst onto her bed. Morning would come and this would all be very funny to her. Right now, though, she willed herself not to check behind her. If someone was there, they could just come in and show themselves, she thought. She no longer cared.

  4

  Masks

  DAY 1 - NIGHT

  Maggie Jensen finished up doing the dinner dishes and rubbed her hands dry on the washcloth. Daddy went out again and her mother retreated to her bedroom saying she wasn’t feeling well. This was a weekly occurrence and Maggie was unsure of how to help the situation. Instead, she got started on the dishes. That would be helpful to Mom and Dad. They would never thank her but her mom might smile in the morning when she saw the kitchen clean. Her mom had turned off the lights in the entire apartment, and Maggie flipped each one of them back on. She hated the dark. She didn’t think monsters were under the bed or in the closet but she hated not seeing everything in the room.

  Thinking of all the reading she had to do for English class, she walked down the hall towards her bedroom. She would do half of the reading tonight and finish the rest of it tomorrow. Pleased with her decision, she pushed her bedroom door open and stopped at the threshold.

  Someone had been in her ro
om.

  Their presence was palpable and Maggie smelled sweat. She flipped the light switch on. The room glowed yellow from her two desk lamps and looked the same as she had left it this afternoon.

  Stop being silly, she thought, and pulled her textbook out of the backpack lying near her bed. She was in the middle of deciding whether she should sit at her desk or read on her bed when she saw it.

  A mask hung several feet above her bed. It creeped her out.

  She jumped on her bed and forced herself to run her finger along it. It was paper.

  It reminded her of the piñata her class made last year for Cinco de Mayo. But this mask wasn’t painted any colors. It appeared yellow, but she knew that was because of her lamps. The eyes and mouth were painted black while the rest of it was a white paint. The mask was too big for kids. Maybe her mom made it for her today as a surprise.

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she ignored them. The night was ruined. She hated when her Daddy was as mad as he had been today. She took her book and settled into her pillows. After reading a page, she glanced back up at the mask. At the angle it was hanging, she felt it staring at her. She shivered and averted her eyes back to the book.

  She would ask her mom about it in the morning.

  5

  Fathers

  May 3, 2005 - Day 2

  The air conditioning at Hollywood Division was notorious for keeping the room frigid. Theory was the colder the bullpen, the more awake all the detectives would be. In contrast to that, the cold made Eva cranky and sleepy. She looked over the statement Jennifer Ross’ husband gave about the night of her disappearance and slammed it down on her desk. Larson, sitting across from her in the bullpen, glanced over in surprise. Things had gotten easier with him since their drinks last night. His admission of asking for a transfer still stung. In the harsh light of morning, Eva considered it a good thing. If she was entirely honest with herself, they’d been getting on each other’s nerves over the last year. It was just a matter of time.

  “This statement is useless. Essentially, he wasn’t home. That’s it. He didn’t give you anything else?” Eva prodded.

  Larson shook his head. “The husband thinks his wife left on her own. He said little although he made sure his son didn’t know his mom deserted him. We should go speak to him again. I don’t think he was telling us everything. His lack of worry was just odd.”

  “You think he’s our perp?” Eva asked. Nine times out of ten when something violent happened to the wife it was typically the husband who did it. The statistics didn’t lie.

  “Probably.”

  “Could be he was in shock?” Eva wondered out loud. Most people acted suspicious around the cops, especially the LAPD. It had gotten much better since the Rampart scandal and the riots of the nineties.

  Larson shrugged. “You have to see him for yourself.”

  “Murphy, Larson, in my office,” the Lieutenant called out and both of them obeyed.

  Lieutenant Villabos was not one to show emotion on his long face except for a twitch in his right eye when shit was about to hit the fan. Eva had never seen his eye twitching as much as it was at this moment. Eva shot Larson a pointed look.

  “What’s going on Lieutenant?”

  “We have another missing woman. A Judy Jensen from Los Feliz. She went missing last night.”

  “Do you think this is connected to Jennifer Ross?” Larson asked

  “She fits the victim profile. She’s another low risk woman. A mother with a young daughter and husband,” Lieutenant Villabos said.

  “Just like Jennifer Ross,” Eva added and Lieutenant nodded in agreement.

  “Find me the connection. I’m sure there has to be one,” Lieutenant Villabos said, sending them off.

  Larson pulled up to a small bungalow on Commonwealth Boulevard in the older neighborhood of Los Feliz that bordered Griffith Park. The area where the Jensen’s lived was still working class although it abutted Franklin Hills, a tonier neighborhood popular with TV and Film character actors.

  “You wanna talk to Mr. Jenson while I speak to the daughter,” Eva said.

  “Why don’t you want to do it together?”

  “You might get more out of him than I could.”

  “How’s that?” Larson asked and Eva heard the annoyance in his voice,

  “I feel he might be more comfortable talking to you.” Eva said and cast him a sidelong glance. Larson shrugged and got out of the car without saying another word. They walked up the concrete drive along dead grass and a fallen over bike to the metal outer door. The bars on the windows reminded Eva of how crime-ridden this neighborhood was in the past. The place hadn’t been touched in years. Larson pressed a doorbell that emitted no sound. They waited for about a minute before Larson banged on the door. It was several seconds before a man in his late thirties opened the inner door.

  “What do you want?” He asked in a gruff voice through the outer door. Eva and Larson showed their badges, and the man opened the door, offering a hand. He was over six feet tall with a rather pronounced beer gut and thinning sandy hair. His red-rimmed eyes blinked against the daylight. Eva doubted he’d slept last night.

  “Have you found her?” was all he said.

  “Can we please come inside,” Eva said motioning behind him. He nodded and stepped aside. Eva and Larson walked into a living room that was a mismatch to the bungalow. Every piece of furniture was glass, chrome or black leather. The place looked more like a bachelor pad then a family home. Mr. Jensen waved them towards the uncomfortable looking couch and flung himself into an armchair across from them. He rubbed his face with his hands.

  “I don’t understand where she could have gone. She wouldn’t leave Maggie alone at night. Never,” he sobbed.

  “Where were you last night, Mr. Jensen?” Eva said keeping her voice friendly and modulated.

  “At work. I work the night shift at a boxing factory down in Whittier. I didn’t get home until 5 a.m. Maggie was asleep on the couch and Judy was nowhere to be found,” he shook his head in confusion.

  “Was the door unlocked?” Larson asked.

  Mr. Jensen shook his head. “She locked up the house, like always. Her purse is still here,” he said and pointed to a leather bag lying in the corner.

  “Is your daughter home?” Eva asked.

  “I don’t want you to talk to her. She’s asleep,” he added.

  “She was the only one that was home and could help us.” Eva pushed on. Mr. Jensen leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “I can tell you what she told me. Her mother tucked her into bed and she fell asleep. She woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and went looking for her mom. That’s when she discovered her mom missing,” he choked out as tears streamed down his face. “Please leave her alone.”

  Eva shot Larson a look, and he gave her an imperceptible nod. “I promise you I will be gentle with her. She could have heard something. or at least tell us of the mood your wife was in. She was the last person to see her,” she said and fell silent, giving him time to digest the request. “We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” she added.

  “Daddy, I want to help,” said a young girl wearing yellow ducky pajamas while rubbing her eyes of sleep. Mr. Jensen couldn’t even look at her. Instead, he gave them a curt nod and got up towards the kitchen. “I won’t stand in your way.”

  Eva walked to the little girl. She crouched in front of her and smiled. “My name’s Eva. What’s your name?”

  “Maggie,” she answered, her lip quivering.

  “Would you like to show me your room?” Eva asked. The young girl nodded and walked back into her bedroom, Eva following close behind. The little girl’s room was decked out in a blue space theme. If the young girl wasn’t sitting huddled in her bed, Eva would have assumed this was a boy’s room. The rest of the room appeared spartan with no toys in sight. The small child’s desk contained several books on it and nothing else. Outside of the desk and chair, the room contained only her bed.


  “I wanted to ask you some questions, Maggie. You think you can help me with that,” she said. Maggie nodded.

  “Your dad told me that your mom tucked you in last night,” Eva started. Maggie nodded.

  “Did she read you a book?”

  “No. She said she had a headache.”

  “So she tucked you in and left?” Eva gave her a smile and looked up, noticing a strange papier mâché mask hanging over the girl’s bed.

  “She turned on my nightlight before she left. I’m ...afraid of the dark. I always sleep with the nightlight,” Maggie said.

  “Did you make that mask?” Eva pointed at the mask. It sent shivers down her spine and creeped her out. Why in the world would a parent let something like that hang over their child’s bed.

  Maggie shook her head no. “I don’t know who made it. I wanted to ask my mom about it this morning. I thought she had put it up there yesterday.”

  “So it showed up yesterday?” Eva took out a small digital camera and snapped several photos of it. Maggie nodded. As she pulled the covers around her, Eva noticed the bruises around her wrist.

  “What happened? Those look like they hurt,” Eva said and took the child’s hand into her own. Someone had yanked her wrist hard for it to bruise like that.

  “When did this happen?”

  “At school,” Maggie said too quickly. Eva would need to check child services about any phone calls from this family. Her abuse radar went off. Leaving that conversation alone, Eva had Maggie go through the night and her story matched her father’s to the word.

  “Thank you for being so helpful, Maggie. Do you mind if i take the mask with me. It could help us find your mom.

  Maggie nodded and sniffled, burrowing deeper into her bed. The interview was over. Eva pulled out crime scene gloves and took out a crime scene pouch. She took the mask off the wall and sealed it up hoping that it would give a clue to who had put it there.