Justice by Oleander - 2012 Watty Awards, Finalist

Chapter 3

© Carey MacLean, 2012

Chapter 3

Waking up to the sound of chirping birds and a light cool breeze coming through her window was a fabulous way to start her day off.  Mika stretched and decided, after looking outside, that today was going to be a day worth spending outdoors.

After a half hour of watching the local morning news channel and a cup of coffee, she headed for the garden, determined to get a good yoga workout in.  She felt so out of shape.  It seemed that the lack of dancing had brought out some of those muscles she had forgotten she had; she was a little stiff.

Yoga will surely fix that, she thought.

Half-way through her light workout, she realized that she had been putting things off for far too long.  She had worked out a plan in her mind but for the first time, Mika had actually procrastinated on putting things in motion.  She was off her game.  Today was going to be the day where she would fine-tune the details to her latest scheme.

Showered and ready to face the day ahead, she headed for the back of her vast walk-in closet and hit the button on the control panel that was hidden inside an ornamental box that sat on the shelf.  The wall before her disappeared within the pocket behind the wall and she was greeted with a new, more risqué wardrobe.  Mika Stafford, MD would never wear this stuff but Lacey Winfree, her newest alter ego would.

With a mischievous grin, Mika slid her fingers sensually over the various shoes, over the hangers, and came to a stop to the various mannequin heads that supported wigs of a multitude of colors.  It was time to make a decision.

He will never know what hit him, she thought, feeling that usual tingling in her belly and the sense of empowerment that came along with it.

She was excited at her new prospect.

His mind was reeling with thoughts of last night’s no-name girl.  Xavier found himself having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand.  Today, he had opted to work from home after Captain Saunders had approved provided Detective Ryans gave him an update by the day’s end considering he had failed to do so the day before as he had promised.  Xavier was thankful because it seemed like someone had shit in Saunders’ Cornflakes that morning and he had had a vat of the stuff.  The man seemed to be hanging onto his last nerve this early in the day and when Saunders was in one of his moods, the further from the man you found yourself, the better you were off.

There he sat, on the floor of his tiny two-level home that his parents had left him in their will a little over a year before.  Their lives cut short by a drug deal gone wrong in one of the city’s less fortunate of areas as they drove by.  Xavier’s father, who was driving at the time, got the bullet as he crossed an intersection and died instantly.  His mother on the other hand hadn’t been as lucky.  As the car had come to a halt in the middle of the intersection, she was t-boned and succumbed to her injuries en route to the hospital.  That had been the defining moment that had led Xavier to the career path he was now currently on.  Previously, he had been working random cases that entailed petty thefts, break-ins, domestic disturbances, relatively anything Saunders needed a helper for.

As he sifted through all of his files, he noted important facts about the eleven men.  He knew time was of the essence.  If the killer wasn’t apprehended, there would most likely be more deaths.

Slowly, he began to make notes on his laptop.  From who had found them, to who was on the scene first.  Anyone and everyone that had been in each victims’ presence in the twenty four hours prior to their deaths.  The more he scoured the evidence and case files, the more he realized something seemed odd.