Killer Love - Ella Goode Page 0,6
shove my hands into my rubber trench coat and step forward. He makes an awkward sidestep, like he’s worried about disturbing the sand.
“How does it feel to be a free man?”
“How do you think it feels? Damn good. System was working for once.” Then, as if he remembers he should be sad, he adds, “But I want the real murderer to be found.”
I rub a toe in the ground. “If we had found your wife’s body, maybe the outcome would be different.”
He stiffens and the genial smile falls away. “Yeah, real tragedy about that.”
I brush more dirt away with my toe. He clears his throat and doesn’t speak until I raise my gaze to his. “You digging for something, Doc?”
There’s a light sheen around his neck. He’s starting to sweat over something.
“No. Not really.” I abandon the dirt and give him a direct stare. “Do you believe in balance, Washington?”
“Balance? What the hell are you talking about?”
“My wife said that you liked routines and order in your life. I’d imagine that people who mess things up make you mad.”
“What’s wrong with order? If you can’t remember simple rules and can’t execute simple tasks, you don’t really offer value in this world.”
“I’m in complete agreement with you. I don’t like those people either.” I pull the syringe out of my pocket and stab him in the neck before he has time to respond. “I don’t like them at all,” I murmur as he crumples to the ground.
I fix him up good, using my coroner’s scalpel with a new blade to slice away parts of his body until the silent tears run down the side of his face. I never kill a person the same way twice. Patterns and routines will always catch up with you.
After I extract a few bits of information such as where his wife’s body is and what secrets he knows about his lawyer, Chad, I finish my work.
The tide will come in, carry away his body, and wash it up on shore somewhere else. The salt water will eat away at his skin, making it hard for even a competent corner to determine exactly what tools were used to end this man’s life.
I dig up enough of the dirt to expose the wife’s arm before sending the drone back home. The dog follows, confirming my suspicions that Washington programmed the drone to take his dog for a walk while Washington murdered his wife in this cove.
As I make my way back to the car, I call Angel.
“How is it going?” she asks cheerfully.
“Just another day at the office. I should be home early tomorrow.”
“I miss you.”
I lower my voice even though no one is around. “Are you alone?”
“No, my sister is going to sleep with me tonight. So no phone sex. Don’t get me worked up either, otherwise I won’t be able to go to sleep.”
That’s disappointing. I stop by my car. “You should get a good night’s sleep then because tomorrow I’ll need to work off this extra energy.”
“I can already sense the dangerous turn this conversation could take so I’m hanging up on you now,” she says but I can hear the smile and the anticipation in her voice.
I end up back at the shore earlier than I had anticipated. The wife’s body attracted a couple of wild dogs and Detective Lee called me in.
“This is a mess,” I remark. The dogs have done a number on the body.
“Yeah. The rookie is going to quit at this point. I told him we hardly ever get cases like this. By the way, did you hear we got an ID on the body parts from yesterday?”
“Already?” It’s my turn to be surprised.
“Yeah, it was the gym teacher from two counties over who just got out of the halfway house. He had a gold crown and we were able to track him down that way.”
“That’s impressive.” And a bit alarming. I thought the identity would be hidden for a while. Dental records take a few weeks to process.
“It was dumb luck. Garcia was at the dentist for another case and got to gossiping with the office girls about how the pedo gym coach hadn’t been seen for a couple of days.”
“What was he doing all the way over here?” The gym teacher who had spent ten years spying on little girls, who only got a suspended sentence and six months of probation in a halfway house, lived and hunted in his town and hadn’t ever come here.
“That’s a