Twisted Knot

More Bad News

~Detective Perry~

“Hey,” I barked into the phone. It was Kelly, my ever helpful private investigator friend. I didn’t mean to yell at her, but I hadn’t sleep in a long time and people kept dying no my watch. Despite what I’d told Elizabeth about my profiling skills, I was in over my head. I worked in the missing persons unit, not in homicide. Javier, Stefan, and whoever else was involved had always been a step ahead of me, surprising me with their calculated moves.

“I have bad news,” Kelly whispered. “But it’s very important.”    

“Bad news,” I said. “What a nice change of pace…”

“Ok,” She said. “I decided to do some more digging into Javier Bordeaux. This case just didn’t seem…finished. I mean, it is believable that Javier killed our missing girls, but why would he? And now that he’s dead, we’ll never know for sure…”

            “We’re analyzing DNA evidence,” I said. “We will find proof, but I know he’s involved.” Kelly hummed as though she was thinking. “What did you find for me Kelly?”

“I looked into Javier’s victims from ten years ago,” she said. ‘There were a lot of random killings, execution style. He only killed five women, and who knows why, but he was more creative with these murders. He sexualized his victims, took mementos like photographs and locks of hair…”

“Profilers have always suspected that Javier was a sexual Sadist, he is aroused by the act of inflicting pain. Judging from the bits and pieces Elizabeth has revealed, I think it is true.”

            “Right,” Kelly said. “Thanks for the criminology lesson, boss. But his last victim, was a woman in France visiting from guess where?” I inhaled.

“The US,” I asked. “He had a thing for young American girls…”

“Yes,” Kelly said. “She was from Florida. Her name was Penelope Suarez-Smith. She hyphenated.” I drummed my fingers, realizing where she was going.

“Suarez is a common name,” I said, “especially in Florida.”

“Maybe, but I don’t believe in coincidences Joe. I looked back over the missing persons reports. Isabella Suarez was reported missing by her sister, Penny. Do you know why that is suspicious?”

            “Let me guess,” I said. “Is Penny dead? Like, killed by Bordeaux dead?”

“Yep,” she said. “Does that seem suspicious to you? Can you think of a better alibi than pretending to be dead? She probably learned it from Javier. The question now is, was Isabella working for Javier or looking for vengeance.” Why would Isabella do this? Vengeance against Javier for killing her sister? Or did she want to punish Elizabeth, who probably knew enough to put Javier away for good, and stayed silent. Did she plan on the affair with Stefan, or did it just happen? None of these questions mattered, because I had the ending to this twisted game. Isabella had been pulling the strings, controlling all of us the whole time. She'd been the one killing off Stefan's lovers, who tried to kill Elizabeth, who wanted revenge. And Stefan was wondering around, unaware the killer was still on the loose. If he saw Isabella, he'd probably try to help her, think she was just another victim instead of a skilled murderer.

“I need to find Stefan Templeton,” I said, standing up. “I have to go.”

            I hung up my phone and grabbed my badge and gun, trying to decide what to do with the other Templetons. It wasn’t over, I thought absently. I’d assumed with certainty that Javier had been responsible; I had ignored my instincts that it was too simple. My phone rang again, and I answered, seeing the number of another guy from my precinct.

“Talk to me,” I said quickly. I needed to go, now, and stop wasting time waiting for a killer.

“Stefan Templeton is dead,” The officer said.  “He was shot twice with a nine mm handgun, which seems to be the same gun used on Bordeaux.”

“She shot him with his own gun,” I said. “Put out an APB on Isabella Suarez.”

“The missing nanny, I thought she was presumed dead.”

“She’s not dead,” I said. “She is our murderer.” This time I was certain I had the killer.

**************

I just waited while Elizabeth and Paul stared at me, processing my words. I hadn’t told them about Stefan, yet, because I knew we needed to leave. It was slightly unethical, but if Elizabeth found out her husband was in a morgue somewhere, even if they had been slightly estranged, she’d figure out a way to fly there if she had to. But I knew that if Isabella was as smart as she seemed, she knew exactly where we were. Had she bugged their phones? The thought hit me know, maybe that was how she knew about all of Stefan’s affairs. Maybe he had told her in bed, I didn’t know. Stefan was dead and I needed to keep these people alive, especially the kid.

“But Javier is dead,” Elizabeth said. “We should be going home, not to another safe house.” Paul just listened, ever the diplomat. How on earth a calm, collected man like Paul wound up in this mess, I didn’t know.

“Joe is right,” Paul said, using my first name for once. “If he thinks there is danger, then we listen. There could one of Javier’s friends in the city.”

“It’s more than that,” I said. “There is some new information. I am not certain that Javier is behind the murders. In fact, I know he wasn’t. Though I do believe he was stalking Elizabeth, and possibly that he even left the threatening note.”

“He tried to kill me,” Elizabeth said. “Stefan shot him. He was the guy…He was a killer.”

            “Yeah, and to be honest, I am not crying over the death of Javier Bordeaux. But I would over yours, so grab your bags, get in the car. I am not asking anymore, I will handcuff you both if I have to.”  Elizabeth’s gaze changed.

“You found Stefan,” she said. “Five minutes ago you were livid about catching my husband. Now you’re not talking about him at all…”

“I am not discussing anymore,” I said coldly. “Go get your bags.” Reluctantly, with the kind guidance of Paul’s assurance, they were downstairs with Jeremy in minutes. I got into the car and we started to drive, and I wondered what they were thinking. And better yet, when we got to a new safer location, how would I tell Elizabeth that Stefan was dead?

            We were all quiet and I just waited for someone to speak. Jeremy, who had been quiet all weekend, sleepily looked at his mom.

“Mommy is it really two o’clock,” he said. “It was four when we left.” She glanced at her phone.

“It’s closer to five,” she said. “That’s weird detective, your clock is off.” I glanced down and saw it. I hadn’t changed the time, something was wrong. I swerved and pulled over to the side of the road. Paul straightened up in his seat and gave me a look.

“What’s going on Perry,” Paul asked slowly. I thought carefully before I spoke. In the silence I heard a slight ticking sound and I wondered what was happening.

“Get out of the car,” I said. “Now. I am not sure, but I think we need to get out of the car.” Why would she tamper with my clock? I didn’t know, but it was a clue of some sort, a warning. They got out and stood on the side of the road, probably about six feet away.

            I went to the front of my car and popped the hood, my worst fears confirmed. There was a bomb in the car with a count down timer, slowly ticking away.

One minute remaining.

“Run,” I screamed. This time no questions were asked. Paul picked up Jeremy and we all began to haul ass. After about thirty seconds, I hoped we were far enough away to be safe. “Cover your ears,” I yelled. Before I knew it, a flash of light exploded, and we were within inches of being burnt to charcoal. I gazed back for a moment, watching it burn and I could hear Elizabeth’s ragged breathes and Jeremy’s cries. That moment I turned to look back was fatal, because even though we had missed the blast, we weren’t safe. I felt a sharp pain and I looked down to see a tiny piece of metal, shrapnel, protruding from my stomach. I fell down and grabbed my bleeding gut, unable to speak. Everything after that went black.