Chapter Fourteen
As Logan drove along the
Interstate back into the city, she replayed the conversation she'd had with the
Lieutenant. Thomas M. Peter's was the Chief
Financial Officer of Langston Development, as well as the first executive chosen by the
killer to single out within the Corporation. Logan
had wracked her brain trying to piece together some connection between the murders and
Langston Development. Hopefully, now that one
of their own had been claimed, C.W. Langston would become more cooperative with her
investigation.
She turned into the gated
community in which Thomas Peters resided outside the city and saw the flashing lights of
the police cars disrupting the tranquility of the exclusive neighborhood. Stopping at the gate, she displayed her badge as
the ashen faced guard returned her greeting, and then drove down the well-manicured
street, noticing the nearby residents, dressed only in robes, standing on their lawns
stunned, as they watched as uniformed officers milling around Thomas Peters'
million-dollar home.
Pulling in behind a
police cruiser, she turned off the engine and sat for a moment, taking in her
surroundings. It struck her as odd that
someone could enter this well protected neighborhood unnoticed and as she continued to sit
quietly, she noticed the motion detector lights on the side of the residence blink on as
an officer broke the electric eye beam. Climbing
down from the truck, she nodded to a uniformed officer as he held the yellow crime scene
tape up for her to pass.
Stepping into the Foyer,
Logan's first reaction was one of amazement; every nook and cranny exuded the wealth of
its owner. Spotting her partner Phil (Dove)
Dvorak and Aaron Rodger's in the far corner of the Living room, the detective made her way
across the room as members of the CSI team, worked nearby.
She nodded as she
approached her partner and noticed the dark circles under his eyes as well as the lines
that creased his face from lack of sleep and too much stress. "Hey Dove, what ya got?"
Eyeing Logan with tired
eyes, he tipped his head towards the stairs. "We
got a dead rich guy, a shitload of blood, and vultures that call themselves the press,
outside chomping at the bit to get the scoop for the early edition."
A crease centered Logan's
forehead as she frowned at her partner and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Hey big guy, you okay?"
Massaging the back of his
neck, Dove nodded giving Logan an apologetic smile. "Sorry
Mac. Yeah, I'm just tired, same as you and
frustrated that we can't seem to catch a break on this case.
Come on, let's go upstairs, I wouldn't let them move the body until you got here
and the M.E. is chomping at the bit to get back home to the wife that's half his
age."
Snickering under her
breath, Logan remembered the scandal that had shaken the Medical Examiner's office a
couple of years prior. Harold Simon's had been
the M.E. for Allegheny County for twenty-five years when he met and fell in love with the
young widow of one of his cases. The M.E. had
ignored all the rules of professional decorum as he became involved with the widow only
four weeks after her husbands murder. The
District Attorney had gone ballistic on hearing the information and his office had almost
had to drop the case against the suspect when word got out of the woman and Simon's
affair. Although too late to stop the rumor
mill, Simon had removed himself from any involvement in the case and eventually the D.A.
had prosecuted and won the case in trial. Many
people within the Police Department and City Government felt Simon's should have resigned,
however he had stuck through all the controversy and still held the office today, much to
Logan's dismay.
Walking into the Master
Bedroom, the first thing the detective noticed was the inordinate amount of blood
splattered across the room. Dove stood
silently beside her, accustomed to the methods his partner implemented when investigating
a crime scene.
Logan never asked a lot
of preliminary question, preferring to form her own opinions, and Dove watched as her eyes
focused in the near corner of the room, then slowly panned around the perimeter, taking in
every small detail of the room.
Once she had her bearings
Logan slowly walked across the thick beige carpeting towards the body of Thomas Peters. Harold Simon's stepped aside, knowing Logan's
predilection for working undisturbed, as the detective knelt beside the body, her hands
tucked into the pockets of her jeans.
Logan began at the
victim's head, her eyes focusing on the large indentation in the skull. Her examination continued towards Peter's face as
she looked into the soulless eyes staring into space, noticing the now dried blood
streaking his face. As her eyes moved lower,
she saw that each finger had been broken in what had to be a long, drawn out struggle for
control between the murderer and the victim. She
paused as she absorbed the information, deciding the killer had been either excessively
violent just for the hell of it or desperate for some information the man held. For the time being, she chose to believe the
latter.
As her eyes followed the
path of violence down Thomas Peter's naked torso, her stomach lurched at seeing the man's
testicles severed from his body and lying between spread legs. Her assessment continued until her eyes fell upon
the shattered patella's of his knees and further to the bare and broken feet lying at odd
angles to the rest of his body. She remained
kneeling as she assimilated the information before her, trying to get into the head of the
killer that walked the streets of Pittsburgh. The
only comforting thought she had, if one could call it comforting, was that she now had an
idea of who his next victim would be. The real
test was about to begin, finding the killer before he had a chance to find the Director of
Human Resources, Phillip R Crafton.
Standing, Logan walked
back towards Dove and raised her brows before tipping her head towards the door. Harold Simons called out to her as she was leaving
the room. "Detective, I really need to
get a move on here. Are you finished with the
body?"
Hearing Dove's snicker, Logan
shot a scowling look his way before turning back towards the M.E. "Yeah, sure Doc, you can bag him."
They walked the length of
the hallway and down the stairs in silence as Logan led the way outside. She raked a hand through her hair as they cleared
the doorway and took in a deep breath of fresh air. In
all her years on the force, she had never gotten use to the sweet, but pungent smell of
fresh human blood.
Quietly she led her
partner to a nearby cruiser far away from the keen hearing of the reporters standing on
the other side of the police line. Glancing
into the crowd, she spotted Jennifer Phillips, her friend and sometimes confidant standing
in the crowd. She knew Jen would come after
her the minute she crossed the tape but for the moment, she had other things to worry
about. "Dove, what are your thoughts on
this victim thus far?"
Taking a moment to sort
his thoughts, he took a looked around wondering if Logan was truly interested in his
ideas or just testing him as she often did on cases. "From
the looks of the body and the violence involved, I believe the killer is making a
statement to C.W. Langston that he is really pissed. From
the apparent injuries, the killer tortured the victim for quite some time and obviously
thought Peters had information, whatever that may be, that he wanted." Looking at Logan, he saw her intense but
thoughtful eyes upon him, taking in everything he was saying. "As for the testicles, who knows? Maybe it was a personal message."
Nodding, Logan absorbed
her junior partners' opinion. "What about
his next victim? Do you think he's going to
follow the path back up to old man C.W. himself?"
Scratching his head, Dove
gave Logan a questioning glance. "One
would think so, but then again, he should know we'll have Phillip Crafton under constant
surveillance."
Logan smiled at her
partner before nodding her head in agreement. "My
thoughts exactly. I'm putting my money on
Lester Donovan being his next target. This guy
is smart but he's beginning to screw up. His
last intended victim survived and we have her and the only other person that can identify
him under lock and key." Logan felt a
knot beginning to form in her stomach as her next thought hit home. "He's either going after Donovan, or he's going to try to get to Susan Richardson or
Dr. Cavanaugh while we run in the other direction."
Pushing off from the side
of the car, Logan regarded her partner with a sympathetic look. "Why don't you check in with the hospital and
make sure Ms. Richardson is alright, wake Donovan up, if he isn't already and put a
uniform on him, and then go home and get some sleep while you still have a few hours
before your next shift." Walking away
before her partner could argue, she made a beeline to her truck hoping to avoid Jen for
the time being."
~~~~~
Sitting in a leather
wingback chair, C. W. Langston sipped on his third scotch since being disturbed a little
after nine o'clock with the news of Thomas Peter's murder.
He had immediately come to his office on Penn Avenue and called in his best
political ally, Herbert Whittaker. Sitting
across from him, and also on his third scotch Herbert Whittaker couldn't help but feel
partially guilty for Thomas Peters death, If I hadn't buckled under C.W's demands and had allowed
the police to question the Langston executives earlier, Peter's may still be alive, as
well as several other innocent victims. The
Mayor took a healthy swig from his glass and let the scotch go down slowly, burning away
his cowardness along the way. "C.W. you
know that avoiding the police is out of the question.
There isn't anything else I can do to keep them from questioning all of you now
that he has killed one of your own."
Scowling, Langston stood
up and began pacing the floor, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I need a little more time Herbert, and I'm
expecting you to get it for me." Feeling
not a twinge of guilt, C.W. Langston turned towards his friend. "Herbert, you have an election coming up soon;
I would really hate to have to break in a new Mayor, because I kind of like you." To Langston, the term friend was just another way
of describing a puppet in his high stakes game of life.
As long as one played by C. W. Langston's
rules, their lives and careers were safe and secure. However,
if one decided not to follow Langston's directives, they often found themselves out on the
streets looking for a new life far away from Pittsburgh and the Langston Power.
Langston's influence was
far reaching and he had often seen powerful men and women reduced to floundering outcasts
at the snap of his fingers. He had never had
the desire to become involved in politics himself, but had found a much better, more
economical way of getting what he wanted by either buying the politicians off or better
yet, becoming privy to information that would destroy that particular politician if the
said information ever reached the wrong hands. C.W.
Langston much preferred the latter because it gave him so much more control over his
puppets. Smiling he turned back towards the
Mayor and was about to speak when a sharp knock came through the door. Walking over, he pulled the heavy oak door open and
stared into the face he had seen a few days prior in the newspaper, Logan McGregor.
~~~~~
Tossing the medical
journal aside, Madison gently pushed herself off the couch and padded into the kitchen to
get more ice for her aching hip, regretting her decision not to go into the city to have
it x-rayed. Femur watched apprehensively from
the corner of the room as his mistress mumbled to herself, flinching each time she cast
another book aside. As she eased her body back
onto the couch, she spied Femur lying in the corner and instantly regretted her brooding
behavior. Patting her lap, she whistled for
the pup, and watched as his ears perked up and he trotted over, laying his head in her
lap. Scratching his ears, she looked into his
sad eyes and knew her conduct throughout the evening had frightened and confused him. She had presumed from his initial mannerisms after
the accident that he had been abused as a puppy. Any
loud or ill spoken word would send him running into the next room to find a safe haven. Speaking softly, she reassured him that everything
was okay. "Baby boy, it's not you. I'm just one frustrated and hurting woman
tonight."
Madison lay back on the
ice pack and stroked Femurs head as she thought about the wonderful day she had spent with
Logan McGregor. Femur watched her intently,
often turning his head sideways as she talked to him.
"What am I going to do about that woman, Femur?
God knows, I don't need anyone complicating my life right now, especially a cop,
for God's sake."
Whining, Femur jumped
onto the couch and settled his body next to Madison's in his own attempt to provide her
the same comfort she had given him during his recovery.
Smiling at the loveable creature, the doctor continued her musing. So what is so
bad about cops? Nothing! Surly, they aren't all like Loraine Osborne; at
least Logan doesn't seem to be.
Deciding nothing would
come of her contemplations, Madison returned to the kitchen, placed the ice pack in the
freezer, and headed to bed. Sliding beneath
the fresh sheets, she became aware of how much she already missed the warmth of Logan's
body next to hers. Shutting out the light, she
turned on her side and hugged the extra pillow to her chest in a weak attempt to find
comfort in the large lonely bed.
Her slumber was restless
as visions of Logan McGregor filled her dreams, long arms, warm lips and an even warmer
body pressing urgently against hers. Pulled
from the sensuous dream as an annoying noise filled the room, her first thoughts were of
the detective's pager and she sat up quickly thinking the night had somehow played a cruel
trick on her, that she was still here, in the house, with her.
Wincing at the sharp pain
in her hip, she threw back to covers, realizing the beeping noise was actually the
doorbell. Glancing at the clock on the
nightstand, Madison couldn't imagine who would be at her door at six thirty on a Sunday
morning. Slipping her arms into the robe, she
padded down the hallway, Femur at her side, heading for the front door. She panicked as she looked through the peephole and
saw Logan standing on her doorstep. Stepping
towards the mirror in the foyer, she ran trembling fingers through her hair and
straightened her robe, before opening the door to the very tired but beautiful detective. "Good morning."
Even through the savaging
fatigue, Logan felt the now familiar warmth spread through her body, the same warmth she
felt each time her eyes rested on the Doctor. "Good
morning to you." Madison's face revealed
her lack of sleep and, she instantly regretted her decision to bring the doctor breakfast. "I didnt mean to wake you, ummm
I
was just in the neighborhood, and
"
Grabbing the detective's
hand, Madison tugged Logan into the foyer pulled the woman into a warm embrace. "I was worried about you. Are you alright?"
Logan didn't speak for a
moment, wanting
needing to feel the comfort of the Doctor's arms around her waist,
wishing her hands were free to return the embrace. After
a long moment, she leaned back slightly, and nodded. "I
was worried about you too." After taking
a good look at Madison's tired eyes, she tenderly kissed her forehead. "It doesn't look like you got much
sleep."
Laughing, Madison,
snagged the carrier of coffee out of Logan's hand and turned, heading for the kitchen,
leaving the woman in the foyer with a confused look on her face. "What? What's
so funny?"
Tossing a glance over her
shoulder Madison shook her head. "I'm
glad I don't need you to feed my ego Detective, and no, I didn't get much sleep." Removing the cups of hot coffee from the carrier,
she handed one to Logan. "Actually, I
was up most of the night, icing my ass and wishing I had taken you up on the offer to
drive me to Mercy last night."
Raising an eyebrow at the
doctor's admission, she took a long swallow of the coffee and willed the caffeine into the
bloodstream. "I'm free until around one
o'clock. Why don't you go get dressed and
we'll do just that."
Unconsciously rubbing the
sore muscle, Madison snarled at the detective. "Its
much better now, thank you. What I'd really
like to do is sit down and eat this wonderful breakfast with you and hear whatever you can
tell me about this latest murder."
Closing her eyes, Logan
knew the next few minutes would not be easy for either of them. "Okay, but first I want to ask a favor of
you." The detective purposely looked away
from the doctor, not wanting her eyes to betray her intentions.
"Okaaay." Madison eyed the woman suspiciously, remembering
the last request the tall, dark detective had made of her.
Lifting the bag of food
off the island, Logan walked to the table and began spreading out their breakfast, her
back to the guarded doctor. Taking a deep
breath, she decided an honest forthright approach might just convince the doctor to go
along with her plan. "I'd like for you to
come into the city and stay with me for the next few days."
The room was silent for a
few moments, and Logan noticed Femur even sat pensively in the corner of the room. She was surprised when, at last Madison spoke the
there was fear instead of anger in the doctor's voice.
"You think he's coming after me don't you."
Raking a hand through her
hair, Logan watched as Madison nervously sipped her coffee. "Yes, I think it's a good possibility." The detective quickly lessened the distance between
them as the trembling in the blonde's hand became more pronounced. Taking the doctor in her arms, she held her close,
wanting to provide some semblance of protection. They
stood quietly for a few moments, each silently absorbing the strength and courage of the
other.
With a single finger, Logan
lifted the doctor's chin bringing the woman's eyes up to meet hers. "I have no idea what his next move will be,
but I don't want to take any chances where you're concerned.
I can protect Susan easily, while she's in the hospital, but you aren't as easy. "I would never forgive myself if anything
happened to you." Her heart was racing,
and blue eyes were pleading as she urged Madison to accept her request. "I've just found you Madi, and I'll be damned
if anything is going to happen to prevent us having a chance to explore what we've
found."
Madison's heart leapt as
she listened to Logan's words, and couldn't remember why she had questioned her feeling
the previous night. The frightened woman
nodded her head, almost imperceptibly and stretched up to place a light kiss on the
detective's lips. "Okay. I'll do it, but only on one condition."
Releasing a breath she
hadn't realized she was holding, Logan, smiled down into Madison's face and raising a
questioning brow. "And the condition
would be what, Dr. Cavanaugh?"
Suddenly embarrassed, Madison
laid her head on Logan's chest. "I'll go
but first, since you have a few hours off, you have to come upstairs with me to take a
nap. You look like shit, Detective." The blonde frowned at the evil grin that crossed
the detective's face and slapped her playfully on the arm.
"No fooling around either, sport. I'm
tired
you're tired and we are both sleeping."
Snarling at the woman, Logan
attempted her best, hurt look. "You're no
fun doctor."
Taking her protector by
the hand, Madison began leading the woman through the house and up the stairs. "I never said I was a fun doctor, Detective,
and right now the Doctor is prescribing rest for
two sleep deprived women, now come on and play nice before I have to get mean and bring
out my needles."
Logan followed along
behind the woman and upon entering the bedroom for the second time in less than
twenty-four hours; she again became aware of the personal touches the doctor had
implemented around the room. She could
scarcely control the heat rising in her body as she watched Madison shed her robe,
revealing a lean muscular body, barely covered by blue satin boxers and a white t-shirt,
cut off at the waist.
Madison quickly slid
between the sheets and patted the mattress, smiling at ravenous look on Logan's face. "Remember you have to play nice
Detective." She pulled the covers over
her body and turned to set the alarm as the tall, seductive woman walked slowly towards
the bed, shedding her clothes with each step.
Watching the woman
undress, Madison could barely contain her own desires as the detective stripped the jeans
over her legs and stood beside the bed clad only in her underwear. Closing her eyes, the struggling blonde stretched
an arm across the bed, attempting to block out the seductive image of the muscular body
she knew would be laying against hers in a few moments.
Groaning lightly as Logan slid under the sheets beside her, the doctor pulled the
warm, seductive body against hers, tucking the tired woman's head in the crook her neck.
Madison closed her arm
around Logan as their bodies settled together in a perfect fit and then lay quietly as
the detective snuggled deeper into her arms. Fatigue
won over desire, claiming each of them in a matter of minutes and for the first time in
days, the women slept soundly, knowing the other was nearby and safe from the evil that
lurked just around the corner.
Continue to Chapter
Fifteen of Code Blue