The Killing Ground (foxx files) Read online

  Somehow, they drove to his place without realizing it. “Get some sleep, Matty. It’s gonna be busy tomorrow.”

  “Ha, ha, I will.” He slid out of her car and poked his head back in. “I’ll bring coffee.”

  “Thanks.” She threw him a mock salute and put the car in first, easing her foot off the clutch and lowering the gas pedal with skilled precision.

  Here in her car, gliding through the deserted streets, was her sanctuary. At least, it should have been. Tonight, she couldn’t turn her mind off. She couldn’t make the events of the last few days stop colliding like pieces of flotsam floating around in troubled waters. She needed something to take the edge off, and when her car pulled up in front of her local bar, she knew she had no choice but to try and silence the voices with a little help.

  Jordan slid on to a barstool and ordered a whiskey. She held up two fingers signaling she wanted a double. She didn’t nurse the first drink, merely leaned back and threw the contents of her glass down her throat. It stung momentarily, and when she winced, there was a second that her mind was empty. That was the peace she was looking for and had been evading her lately.

  She was about to order another when a flash of red on the TV at the end of the bar caught her attention. “Hey, turn that up.”

  The bartender slid a remote down the bar and nodded when Jordan held up two more fingers. When he set the drink in front of her, Jordan’s attention was already on the TV. A local reporter was interviewing Detective Foxx, who looked none too happy to be in front of the cameras.

  “Do you have any suspects in this case?”

  Rebecca gave the standard answer. “We’re investigating all possible leads.”

  “Detective Foxx, this is the seventh victim. The citizens of Chicago would like to know if the Chicago Detective Division is getting any closer to making an arrest in the attempted murder of Julie Keppler and the other homicides?”

  Rebecca looked as annoyed as Jordan felt. She hated when a reporter spoke in an overly concerned voice when beneath that plastered on fake smile, their fangs were ready to come out. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to reveal that information.”

  “Detective Foxx, can you tell me if the CDD believes this is a serial killer? Are there similarities in the case to the other murders?”

  “No comment.” Jordan noticed that Rebecca's lip was pursed angrily, and she figured the reporters might want to back off.

  “Detective, the Mayor is calling this the most violent crime spree in Chicago history. Do you believe there is more than one person involved?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.” Rebecca's eyes narrowed.

  “When did the FBI become involved in the investigation? Is this a joint task investigation? Has the CDD requested the FBI’s help since they have made no progress in catching the killer…or killers?”

  Jordan thought Rebecca might have rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. She looked pointblank at the reporter. “I’m not going to speculate about the details of the case. I’m sure you understand that any information that is leaked could jeopardize this case and put more victims at risk.”

  Not satisfied, the reporter pushed forward and hit Rebecca with a string of questions. She flicked her hand at one of the cops, and he quickly stepped in between Rebecca and the over-zealous reporter.

  Jordan felt the corners of her mouth creep up. The cameras were still trained on Rebecca’s back, and she could swear she could see the hackles standing up on her neck. “I’ll give you credit, Detective Foxx. You don’t take shit from anybody.”

  Thirty minutes and three double whiskeys later, Jordan was starting to relax. She looked at her watch and sighed. She took two twenties out of her wallet and threw them on the bar. It took her a record nineteen minutes to get home, shower, and when her head hit the pillow, Jack Daniels had somehow managed to make her forget everything she had seen today.

  Chapter 9

  Jordan yawned and smacked her lips together. Her tongue felt like a piece of dried-out leather. She twisted her body and dropped her feet over the side of the mattress, the rush of blood sending her headache into overdrive. She dropped her head in her palms and groaned loudly before she pushed herself up and started the shower. She loved whiskey, but last night, it had knocked her on her ass.

  She showered, checked her messages and pulled into work a surprising three minutes after nine, which was earlier than most days. She walked into Matt’s office and took her coffee with a nod. It took her half the cup, and a good ten minutes before she acknowledged him. “Thanks.”

  Matt chuckled softly in deference to the look in her eyes. “Looks like you need it.”

  Jordan shook her head. “Busy night.”

  “Besides the murder?” Matt asked incredulously.

  Jordan looked askance at Matt as if to say you know me better than that. “Yeah. Workout before and drinks after.”

  Matt had the good taste not to ask about the workout. He knew the kind of exercise his partner liked to get and more times than not, he interrupted her workouts. “So, Mitchell wants us to interview Julie today. She says she’s finally up to it.”

  “We might as well do that before we see Redmond. Besides I’m still waiting for the autopsy report for the Hudson case.” It had only happened last night, and that quickly, she was just another victim.

  Jordan downed the last of her coffee and chucked the cup into the trash can. She pushed herself up with a sigh. “Guess we might as well get this over with.”

  Matt could sense her hesitation. “Yeah, I’m not looking forward to this either.”

  Jordan pulled into the freight zone at Mercy and stepped out into the cold. The wind had picked up again off the lake, and it froze her bare fingers. She cinched her leather coat around her and wished that she had worn something heavier. “This fucking cold is killing me.”

  Matt punched her in the arm with his gloved hand and pulled the collar of his thick North Face coat up. “Dude, I’ve been telling you for how many years. That coat ain’t good for shit except looking good.”

  Jordan glared at Matt. “Looking good has kept me warm many nights, brother.”

  “Whatever.” Matt rolled his eyes and pushed through the revolving door. He hadn’t gone to see Julie again, and his stomach roiled nervously. Hopefully, he would handle it better than his reaction to the crime scene last night.

  They rode the elevator up in silence, all previous joking put aside. Jordan wrapped on the door softly, in case Julie was sleeping. Neither was surprised when a haggard looking Assistant Director Mitchell pulled the door open a few seconds later. She offered them a wary smile.

  They stepped in almost silently in deference for Julie, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep.

  “Hey, guys.” Julie’s voice was low and still raspy, but she looked one hundred times better than when Jordan had seen her a couple of days ago. The bandage still covered the length of her neck, but her color was returning. Behind the weak smile, they could see the immense sadness in her eyes that no amount of pretending could cover.

  “Julie, hi.” Jordan gave her a small hug, careful not to hurt her. Matt, much more uncomfortable about the situation, stood back and nodded aloofly.

  “Hey, Julie.” He tried not to appear too out of place, but the constant shuffle with his feet gave him away.

  “Jeez, Matty.” Jordan shot him a look. “Chill, will ya?”

  He smiled sheepishly and sloughed off to the corner to occupy one of the empty chairs.

  Jordan turned back to Julie and smiled. “How ya feeling?”

  Julie swallowed and winced at the movement against her stitches. “Been better. However, I’m alive, and I guess that’s more than I can say for the other women.”

  Jordan gave a slight nod in agreement. “So, do you feel like talking?”

  Julie’s eyes left hers and landed on Susan's face. There was a slight tinge of red in her cheeks, and Jordan was alert enough to know that Julie didn’t want to talk in f
ront of her partner. Jordan couldn’t blame her. Right now, the anger and hatred in Susan’s eyes were enough that she thought Susan possible of murder herself. Hearing the details would only aggravate the situation.

  Jordan stepped over to Susan and held her gaze. “Listen, why don’t you and Matt grab some coffee? I got this.”

  Susan looked as though she was going to refuse, but in the end, she let Matt drag her from the room. Jordan watched her leave then shut the door behind them quietly. She preferred the details of her conversation stay in this room. It wasn’t unlike reporters to lurk in hospital hallways trying to get the scoop.

  Jordan pulled a small tape recorder from her pocket. She held it up to Julie and raised her eyebrows questioningly. “You mind if I tape this?”

  Julie shook her head from side to side. Her lip quivered and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth in an effort to hide her fear. She may have looked okay, but she wasn’t. She was sure she may never be okay again. She couldn’t close her eyes without reliving her attack, smelling her attacker, feeling him inside her.

  Jordan pushed the record button. “Listen, we can stop whenever you want. We don’t have to get this all done today. If it gets to be too much, just stop me.”

  Julie nodded.

  “November 19th, 2011. Special Agent Jordan Gray interviewing Julie Keppler, regarding her attack on November 15th, 2011.”

  She rewound the tape and played back what she just said to verify that the tape recorder was working. Jordan didn’t do notes. That seemed to make people uncomfortable and besides, most of the time, she couldn’t read her own chicken scratch. “Let’s go back to that night. Just try to remember as much as you can.”

  “Okay.” Julie flinched subconsciously, the feeling of a cold wind ran through her. As much as she could remember? Better to ask her what she didn’t remember. The details were crystal clear. Remembering wasn’t the problem.

  “Take me through everything that happened and remember, if at any point you need to stop, just tell me.” Jordan’s voice dropped an octave and had taken on a soothing quality. That was one thing that she used to her advantage. She could put people at ease, get them to open up. It made her invaluable as an interrogator.

  “I was coming home from work late, so it was already dark. I remember how cold it was, so chilly for November. All I wanted was to be home in a hot bath. Normally, I walk home, but that night it was sleeting, so I decided to call a cab. The wait was ninety minutes.”

  “So, you walked anyway?” Jordan broke in, feeling the need to calm Julie down. She watched her hands grow increasingly fidgety, and she could tell that already she was anxious.

  Julie shook her head. “Yes. I remember thinking that I felt like someone was watching me, following me, but I was certain it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I should have listened to my gut.”

  Jordan squeezed her hand. “It is hard not to look back and think that. Most people are born with a sixth sense that alerts us to that, but we aren’t trained to listen to that inner voice, to use it to protect us. Don’t chastise yourself for that.”

  Julie smiled warily. “By the time, I finally figured out I wasn’t crazy, it was too late. He was already there. I remember trying to scream and no sound coming out. There was no one around to hear it anyway. I tried to run, but I stumbled and fell. Damn high heels.”

  Jordan could hear her voice quiver, and it broke her heart. She couldn’t imagine what Julie was going through, had no way to comfort her. Instead, here she was making her relive the whole thing. “What happened next?”

  “The pain, I remember the pain in my stomach and praying to God that my baby…that my baby was alright.” Julie tried to swallow the sobs threatening to escape, and every word shook as she spoke. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

  Jordan grabbed her hand again. “It’s okay. We can stop.”

  “No.” Julie swiped at her eyes and took a drink of water. “I need to get this out, so I can start to heal.”

  Jordan didn’t let go of her hand, and subconsciously she rubbed her thumb over Julie’s hand protectively. “He…he held me down on the ground with his knee. He cut my throat and then he…he…ripped my hose off and he…his…he…” Julie's voice disappeared, the memory paralyzing her ability to speak.

  Jordan stopped her. She didn’t need to make her say it. Most likely, the tape would never be used as evidence, only for Jordan in her investigation. “Do you remember anything about him? Did you get a look at him?”

  Julie shook her head. “It was too dark. I didn’t get a look at his face. I know he was tall and skinny, probably six or seven inches taller than me and not much heavier. But he was strong, freakishly strong. His voice was odd in a way. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “You heard him talk?” Jordan asked, surprise evident in her voice.

  “Yes. He asked me if I really thought I was special, and told me that I was a fucking bitch, and that I needed a penis to get pregnant.”

  “Anything else?” Jordan leaned forward and pushed softly.

  “No, that was it.” Julie’s hand was clenched around Jordan’s so tightly, she was starting to cut off the circulation to her fingers but Jordan didn’t pull away.

  “So, what happened to scare him off?” Jordan knew, but any little bit of information could be helpful.

  “I don’t know. I'm sorry. I passed out and when I woke up, I was here. I didn’t know what happened, that is until Susan told me. That homeless guy died for protecting me. It’s just not fair.” Julie’s lips were a narrow, thin line, and she bit back tears.

  Jordan reached over and turned off the recorder. “I’m sorry to make you have to do that again. If there’s anything else you remember, even if it’s something you don’t think is important, let me know.”

  A soft knock sounded at the door, and Jordan opened the door. She could see the silent question in Susan’s eyes, and she nodded. It had been hard, but Julie had given her everything she could. Now it was up to Jordan to find the killer. Given the lack of details, no DNA evidence and the number of people in Chicago, it somehow felt like looking for a needle in several haystacks.

  Jordan looked back over her shoulder. Susan had already assumed her protective position at the side of Julie’s bed. Anyone could see they were united in their grief, agonizing over their loss and trying to build on the positive. Jordan knew, if at all possible, she would find justice for them and in doing so, hopefully give them much-needed closure to move on.

  Chapter 10

  Rebecca stood opposite the M.E., watching her make her first visual pass of Elizabeth Hudson’s body. They still had not located her husband, which hadn’t bothered Rebecca at first, but seemed eerily suspicious now.

  There was a camera recording the entire process, and the M.E. noted every step of the autopsy. “Date of the autopsy is November 19th, 2011, 10:53 AM. Performed by Sylvia Knowles, Medical Examiner. Manner of death is homicide. Cause of death is exsanguination due to an incise wound in the neck, severing the carotid arteries and an incision in the abdomen. Victim is a Caucasian female, approximately thirty-four years old. Generalized pallor and evidence of exsanguination, bi-lateral incision across the neck and abdomen. Left lower lateral chest-wall abrasions and contusions, consistent with injuries sustained.”

  Rebecca watched Sylvia study the body, noting every bruise, cut or other mark that appeared out of place. When she mentioned the pregnancy and subsequent loss of the child, Rebecca bit back tears. She couldn’t help but see the woman Elizabeth Hudson was just hours before, filled with energy and no doubt ecstatic about her upcoming birth. Now, she was a pale shadow of her former self, the blood that was once life-giving had been shed heartlessly. The life that, until recently, had flourished within her was gone.

  “I’m going to do the rape kit next. Wanna stick around?” Sylvia watched for her reply behind her glasses. “I know we won’t get anything, but I have to do it anyway.”

  Rebecca’s belt vibrated loudly
, and she pulled her pager out checking the display. “Nah, I got to make a call. Just call me when you finish.”

  Sylvia nodded, her attention already focused on the victim again.

  Rebecca shook her head as she walked out. It took a special person to be a Medical Examiner. She knew without a doubt it was a calling that she would never have answered. Despite her hard-ass exterior, the hardest part of the job was separating herself from the victims, trying not to figure out their story. She knew she couldn’t look at a person lying on the table and detach herself. It wasn't in her make up.

  Rebecca pulled her phone out and dialed the number on her pager. “Foxx.”

  “Detective, it’s Special Agent Gray. We tracked down Elizabeth Hudson’s husband.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, Special Agent Gray.” Her voice was razor sharp. “But I was unaware that the FBI was tracking anyone down.”

  “I just assumed that given the wide scope of the FBI’s reach and your full plate, you would appreciate some assistance.” Jordan hoped her tone didn’t sound as sarcastic as she felt.

  “You need to stop assuming that we need the FBI to swoop in and save the day. I can assure you that my team can handle this.” Rebecca’s tone had tempered some, but she was still on edge. No matter how long she had been at it, no matter how good a detective she was, there was always some invisible voice whispering in her ear that she just wasn’t good enough. Usually it was some dick reminding her that she was a woman, and women are never as good as men. Today, it was Jordan’s voice taunting her. The FBI had managed to do what the CDD hadn’t. It tracked down Elizabeth Hudson’s missing husband. It was just another reminder she had grown up amongst her father and brothers, who somehow always managed to be better than she was. It wasn't that they competed with her. It was her own insecurity and need to be something she wasn't. Rather than accept that she could succeed as a woman, she had lived in a self-imposed shadow of doubt and some unattainable goal that haunted her every day.