Deadly Games Page 17

  “No, it was much worse. It was a pinky finger and a bloody lock of my sister’s hair,” I revealed with a shudder.

  “Oh my God! He cut of Denise’s finger?” he yelped and pulled me tighter against his frame.

  “No, it was someone else’s finger. We think it belonged to Margie Moore, but for all we know, it could be someone else. We only know it belongs to a woman,” I explained. “The psychologist who looked at the artwork says he’s demanding attention because he’s sick. We know, based on medications found in a strand of his hair, that he is being treated for cancer. We think he’s killing people because he doesn’t want to suffer and die alone.”

  He rubbed my arm, trying to soothe me, but it wasn’t working. Actually, it was irritating me, so I pulled away and stood up to pace the room. I felt a tension headache coming on.

  “I’m scared out of my wits, Justin. I’m scared he’s going to kill her or scar her for the remainder of her life,” I wailed. “I don’t know how to catch him.”

  He got up and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want a glass of water or tea?”

  “Yes, some water,” I answered and headed to his bathroom.

  While I was in there, I opened the medicine cabinet to find some aspirin. I got more than I bargained for, though. I saw prescription bottles lined up, so I snooped. He was on fentanyl patches, Decadron, and phenytoin. He was on the killer’s medications, and his face slammed into my mind. Only it was wearing a mole and reddish-brown hair. Then it was wearing a mustache and black hair. I could see it now. He was tall, and thin, and he was our killer. The St. Louis Slasher was trying to comfort me while holding my sister captive and torturing her. I reached for my Glock, but then I let go. I couldn’t bring him in without definitive proof, and I needed Denise’s location, too. I grabbed a piece of toilet paper and pulled hairs out of his comb and razor, wrapping them up in the tissue, which I then shoved into my pocket. I needed his DNA, and I needed a way out of his condo without creating suspicion.

  When I emerged, I rubbed my eyes, making sure I had his attention. Then I forced a weak smile. “I’m so stressed out, I won’t make good company right now. I’m going to go home and rest. Maybe I’ll come back later, though,” I told him and accepted the bottled water he’d brought me. “You owe me dinner after all.” It was so hard to play nice with him, but I had no choice. I couldn’t blow my cover.

  He reached out to touch my cheek, and I had to fight the urge to cringe and jerk away from him. “Yes, I do owe you a home-cooked meal. If I remember correctly, you like lasagna, so I’ll use my mother’s recipe and make that for you.”

  I rubbed my stomach. “Sounds good, and it will be the first real food I’ve had since Denise was taken.” I let my voice soften and dropped my eyes to the floor. “I just can’t take not knowing what he’s doing to her, but I don’t want to know either. Does that make sense?”

  He nodded and squeezed my shoulder. “Sure, it makes sense. I don’t blame you one bit.”

  He pulled me in for a hug, and I forced myself to endure it and even wrapped my arms around him to return the embrace. It was like trying to swallow a brick. I counted to three and pulled away.

  “I’ll call you when I get up from my nap,” I promised.

  “Okay. Drive safe and rest well,” he murmured before planting a kiss on my lips.

  Bile began rising up my throat, so I didn’t let him linger. I turned away and slowly left. When I reached my car, I pulled onto the highway before picking up my phone and calling Liam.

  “I found our killer, so assemble the masses! I’m bringing in his DNA, and I’ll explain when I get there,” I declared.

  “I’ll get everyone back in. See you soon, and excellent work!” he responded and hung up.

  For the first time, I saw hope for rescuing my sister. It had to be him, because why wouldn’t he have disclosed his medical issues to me if it wasn’t? I turned on my red light and raced back.

  We stood in the lab, anxiously waiting for the DNA extraction machine to spit out the comparison results. When the paper printed, Jackie analyzed it and smiled.

  “It’s a match,” she chirped and handed the paper to Liam, who took a second glance.

  Only they knew who it matched to. I didn’t tell anyone else. It was too unbelievable that the ADA would be our killer. It was horrific that I’d dated him and considered him a friend.

  “Let’s get our warrant for his arrest,” Eric hollered and banged his hands together.

  “No! We have to find the location for Denise and Margie first,” I hollered. “Let’s search property records under his name.” I turned to run up the stairs, and I heard them behind me.

  We all got on our computers to search property records, but the only thing that came up was his condo. Where the hell are you, Denise?

  “Could he have the land in another name? We know it’s not under Sean Peirick, and the Parkdale house is in Robert Marx’s name. Is that his father? Let’s look up his birth certificate while we search for any other real estate under the name Robert Marx,” Liam said.

  “There’s nothing else under that name,” Eric announced with disappointment. “What is his mother’s name?”

  “I don’t know his parents’ names. He never talked about them,” I reported. “But we learned that Robert Marx had a son named David Justin Marx, so it has to be him. Maybe it’s under his mother’s maiden name, but I don’t know it, or maybe it’s under David Justin Marx or Justin Marx.”

  “Those names aren’t turning anything up, and I can’t find Justin Sinclair’s birth certificate either,” Liam grunted. “It’s in a sealed record, and that would take a court order to unseal it. We don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Then we have to follow him to the location where he has Denise. I don’t think he’ll give it up if we arrest him now. He’ll try to make a deal for the location, and by then, it might be too late to save her and Margie,” I rambled. “Also, I don’t want him to have any deals. I want him to fry,” I added.

  Liam nodded in my direction. “I agree, but how do we get him to go there? We could stake out his place until he’s on the move, but I’d rather he go there sooner than later. It will give the women a better chance at survival since he’s been starving them.”

  I thought about how to get him out of the house. “I told him I’d come over for dinner. I think if I call to cancel, he’ll get pissed off and go to her. Let’s get near his place, and then I’ll make the call,” I suggested, and they agreed.

  “Do we want to get the FBI here first?” Marisol asked.

  “I don’t think we have the time for that. This is our case, and we’re bringing the bastard in,” Liam answered in a clipped tone, and I silently thanked him.

  We rushed downstairs and rounded up the K-9 officer on duty again just in case the dogs needed to search the grounds. For all we knew, he might have cadavers buried everywhere. We sped back to Webster Groves to just outside his condo. We were in unmarked cars and hidden among other vehicles so he wouldn’t see us. The K-9 unit was down the street, waiting for us to direct him. I made the call.

  “Hi. I’m not home yet because I stopped by my parents’ house first to talk. I don’t feel up to dinner now. The day and our conversation have me too upset. Will you forgive me?” I asked and rolled my eyes. I hated playing the role of his friend. I wanted to tackle him and shove my Glock down his throat.

  “That depends on you. Will you reschedule for tomorrow?” He sounded cocky, and I gritted my teeth.

  “Yes, I can do that for you,” I promised. “I’m sorry about tonight. I wouldn’t make great company, though, so I’m saving you from a bad evening if you think about it.” I was thinking about the ki
nd of evening he was going to have, and I smiled to myself. He’d be spending his evening with a bunch of hoodlums in lockup. Hoodlums he helped put away.

  “Okay, rest up and call me later to let me know you’re doing all right,” he ordered.

  “I promise. Bye,” I replied and hung up. Then we restlessly waited.

  LUCKILY, WE DIDN’T have to wait too long for him to leave his house. We made sure to have eyes on him as we followed at a safe distance. Liam called the K-9 officer and told him the direction to travel to catch up with us. He had to linger back, however, or he’d be spotted in the K-9 SUV. We followed Justin’s orange Jeep through rush-hour traffic all the way to Town and Country.

  “I don’t believe it!” Liam growled. “We checked all the properties out here with outbuildings and permits.”

  “Go easy on yourself,” I replied. “He’s breaking the law, so it’s quite possible he doesn’t have a permit.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  It was almost laughable to me that we were the ones hiding in plain sight now. My blood rushed through my veins as I thought about arresting him. Of course, we had to be prepared for a shoot-out too, especially since he was dying. He might try to go out via suicide by cop. I had to admit to myself that I’d rather see him rot in prison for the rest of his miserable life. He didn’t deserve the easy way out.

  He turned off on a back road, so we hung back for a minute, not knowing if it was a private drive or not. When we started in again, we found out that it was, and we saw his house in the distance. We also saw the black Suburban.

  Liam hesitated because if Justin made it inside the house after realizing we were there, he would surely kill his prisoners. His massive ego would demand it. Once he was through the front door, though, Liam gunned the engine, spinning rocks and dirt. We kept the sirens and lights off so we could take him by surprise when we broke down the front door. I radioed the K-9 officer and told him to immediately release the dogs, so they could lead us to him and, hopefully, take him down to the ground before he could retaliate. We all, dogs included, had Kevlar vests on just in case he had a gun.

  We didn’t have to break the door down because it was unlocked. He was either that arrogant or lying in wait because he knew we were there. We sent our canine officers in first, and they flew down the stairs in a blur of fur, barking and gnashing their teeth. They smelled the victims and the blood. We were right behind them with our guns aimed and ready.

  Loud yelps pierced the air as the dogs bit into him, but then we heard whining as we rounded the corner because he’d retaliated with his butcher knife, cutting at least one of the dogs. They didn’t release their grips on him, though. They were fierce and determined. The K-9 officer whistled to reign them in so we could take over.

  “Drop your weapon, Justin, it’s over for you!” I bellowed, and Eric ran toward him, ready to fire or chase him down if need be.

  “Stop right there, or I’ll slice her in two!” he returned, indicating Denise. He was holding the knife to her chest, and her panicked stare was on me.

  “It’s over, Justin. Give yourself up! You don’t want to die like this, but I will kill you if I have to,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  He laughed, and it sounded like pure evil if it had a voice. “We made passionate love recently, and now you’re threatening to kill me? That’s quite the turn of events.” The laughter stopped, and his expression grew grave. “If I have to die anyway, what difference does it make? My life is already over. Do you know what it’s like to grow up with an abusive father and then be told you have brain cancer? My life was over the day I was born!”

  “No, I don’t, but you can change your ending. You don’t have to waste your entire life like this. You’ve done so much good in the courtroom, so why this?” I pleaded.

  “Because if I don’t belong on this earth, no one else does either!” he spat and raised the knife to plunge into my sister.

  Before it had the chance to come down on her, though, my gun fired into his head, splattering his brain—the very brain that was killing him. Liam had fired at the same time, striking him in the chest. He immediately crumpled to the cold concrete floor, and one of the dogs scurried over to him to clamp down on his throat.

  My hand trembled as I ran to my sister to quiet her sobs while Eric searched the basement for bolt cutters. Marisol searched Justin’s body for a key and found it before Eric returned with cutters. While she freed Denise, he worked on Margie Moore, who was sobbing in relief as well. The K-9 officer called for medics, and they were there within minutes. I promised Denise I’d meet her at the hospital. I had to call our parents and give them the wonderful news they’d been longing to hear.

  After my emotional phone call, I leaned over Justin’s dead body and stared into the face I’d once loved. I would never understand why he had turned into a cold-blooded killer, cancer or not, but I would never regret killing him for it either. Not when it meant saving lives.

  I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, and I looked up into Liam’s concerned face. “Are you okay?” he asked in a soothing voice.

  I shrugged as a tear trickled down. “Just another day at the office, right?”

  He slowly nodded. “Sometimes.”

  As the coroner took Justin away, we headed out of the torture chamber, too, leaving the CSI Unit behind to do their job.

  I was glad to hear on the radio that the injured police dog was fine and would fully recover from the stab wound.

  As soon as I was on my way to St. Clare hospital, Maria called. “How’s my favorite CI?” I greeted her in a chipper voice.

  “She’s worried about you right now,” she replied. “I called to warn you that Carlos Garcia is out on bail, and he wants your blood on his hands.”

  I knew I should have been worried by the threat, but after the past couple weeks, I just answered with a heavy sigh, “I think he’ll have to get in line.”