Chapter 3-1
604 Words
Chapter 3
“Mantegna, Callahan, get in here. Right now.”
Andy exchanged a look with Sean, then set his half-eaten donut on his desk. He pushed back his chair and headed into their captain’s office.
Captain Rivers leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he waited for them to settle into the chairs across from him.
Andy found himself wishing he’d brought his coffee with him, more to have something to hold onto than anything else. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was in trouble, about to be scolded by a parent or something.
“Why am I hearing that we have another serial killer on the loose?” Rivers demanded without preamble.
“Sir?”
Sean shifted uncomfortably beside Andy, the chair squeaking as he did. “Two old women ending up murdered does not mean we have a serial killer.”
“With all due respect,” Andy spoke up, “neither Sean nor I have officially called it that.”
“Where’d you hear that, Captain?” Sean asked.
“Crane said it’s the word on the street already.”
Again the squeaking chair. Andy looked over.
“He’s not wrong. Lexy asked me about it.”
Rivers frowned. “Who?”
“The guy from the donut shop. Lexy Wanderer.”
Rivers grimaced. “Oh.”
“He asked about you actually, Cap. Wondered why he hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“Watching my weight,” the captain mumbled.
Andy shook his head. Time to get them back on track. “That was fast. The granddaughter found Rose only a few hours ago.”
“I thought her name was Margaret O’Hearn.”
“She went by Rose. According to her granddaughter. Anyway, I don’t think there’s any connection between vic one and vic two other than both were old ladies.”
“They were both strangled with cozy socks,” Sean put in, unhelpfully, Andy thought.
“That doesn’t mean they’re related,” Andy insisted. Even he thought that was nonsense but surely it was too soon to speculate otherwise.
Rivers sighed. “I certainly hope that’s true. The city hasn’t recovered from the homeless murders. Got anything new on the first elderly victim?”
“From all indications, Maria Castro was just a sweet little old lady,” Sean replied. “Her son, Tony, says no enemies, no troubles, no complaints, nothing.”
“Pretty much the same with Rose O’Hearn,” Andy confirmed.
“Keep me posted on both,” Rivers said, clearly dismissing them.
But despite Andy’s words about there being no connection, he couldn’t shake the feeling, deep in his gut, that they were looking at the same killer.
And so, he sought out the desk of Edgar Lopez, one half of the team who’d worked the homeless murders earlier.
Sean had gone off to meet with the forensics team.
Andy plopped into the chair in front of Edgar’s desk. “Hey.”
Edgar was Haydon Cliff’s first openly gay detective. At first, from all appearances, he’d been a player, going from man to man. Not that Andy had ever been with Edgar, but he knew plenty of guys who had. But it was thanks to Edgar that Andy felt more comfortable being out himself at the PD.
All the talk about Edgar’s promiscuous ways had gone out the window when he, quite literally, hooked up with his partner, Scott O’Hara. It was Scott who had worked with Edgar on the homeless murders. The two were happily relationshipped now.
“Have you heard the news?” he asked Edgar.
“That you’ve got yourself a serial killer? Crane has a big mouth. Everyone here has heard it now.”
Andy sighed. “Figures. But I don’t know that for sure.”
“What are the facts?”
“Two elderly ladies who lived alone were strangled in their homes by tied-together socks, and found after welfare checks by relatives. Maria Castro by her son and Rose O’Hearn by her granddaughter. No known enemies for either and no one saw a thing.”
Edgar nodded, staring at Andy with hard eyes. “And what does your gut tell you?”
“I don’t like what it tells me.”
“I get it. Been there, done that. And I don’t like another killer like that in the Cliff. But I think you should trust your instincts, Andy. What does Sean think?”
“That it’s a serial killer.”
“There you go.” Edgar leaned back. “You need any help, you let me know.”
- Writer
