Highway Butcher – Chapter Seventeen

NOT EDITED

Chapter Seventeen

Friday: July 14, 2000

4:03 AM; LOS ANGELES, APARTMENT COMPLEX, PARKING LOT

“God, would you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“I’m not trying to start anything, Katherine. I’m just saying that I think it’s best you sit this one out,” Jamal said.

“I can handle a homicide, Jamal. I’m not a child,” Kathy said, leaning forward enough in the passenger seat to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“Katherine, for the love of God. You just got married, had a miscarriage, and canceled your honeymoon in a span of, what, two or three days? You aren’t ready for this.”

“You have no idea what happened to me. Don’t act like you do.”

Jamal stared at the young woman, his brow furrowed. “Katherine, I’m just going off of what you told me. You said—”

“I’m fine.”

He grabbed her arm before she could get out of the car. “Is there something I need to know about? Something about Max that I need to… handle?” he questioned.

“My husband and I are fine. Unless an order comes down from the chief, I’m working this. You can intimidate everyone else with the sergeant bullshit, but I couldn’t care less.” She yanked her arm from his grip and opened the door.

“Katherine.” She stepped out of the car before turning and ducking down to look at Jamal. “Be safe. I’ll be out here, okay?” he asked.

She tilted her head back with a sigh. “Okay.” She straightened herself back out and shut the door. She pulled a pair of gloves from the pocket of her blazer as she headed for the apartment complex. Her partner, a tall black man named Aaron Wellendorf, greeted her at the door. “What do you know?”

“What happened to the honeymoon, Katherine?” he questioned.

She had long since given up on getting Aaron to drop the ‘Katherine’ moniker in favor of ‘Kathy’. The rest of his bullshit, she still fought. “Absolutely none of your business. What do you know?” she repeated.

Aaron shrugged. “They haven’t been able to get the door open yet,” he said. He walked with Kathy through the doors and into the lobby. “The door has one of those chain locks attached inside, so they can’t get in.”

“Then they aren’t trying hard enough,” Kathy muttered, pressing the call button for the elevator.

“Judgmental as always.”

“I’m not in the mood, Aaron.”

“It’s called banter, Katherine.”

“And it’s fucking stupid, so leave it at the fucking door,” she said. She stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

Aaron snorted and followed her inside, pressing the button for the sixth floor. He tucked his hands behind his back, staring at the closed doors as the elevator jolted to a start. “What’d Max do to you?”

“My husband and I are fine. Mind your own business.”

“I read people, Katherine. You’re not fine.”

“I didn’t say I was fine. I said my husband and I were fine. There’s a difference. Learn to comprehend,” Kathy said.

“You’re more insufferable than usual today. Didn’t really think that was possible.”

“Insufferability is what got me here,” she said.

He snorted. “Right. Totally had nothing to do with Daddy Pitman.”

“Fuck you.”

When the doors opened, Aaron flashed a smile before gently bumping her out of the way to step out first.

Kathy rolled her eyes and followed him down the hallway. “Why haven’t we just broken the lock?”

One of the officers by the apartment door looked over at her, sighing quietly. None of them ever wanted to deal with Kathy Baker, let alone at four in the morning, but there they were, dealing. She almost cracked a smile at that. “There could be a child inside,” he said.

“I’m sorry, could be?” she asked.

“Could be,” he repeated with a nod.

“How do we not know if there’s a child inside? How is it possibly a ‘could be’ situation? Are you stupid?”

Again, he sighed. “According to the neighbor, the woman inside has a kid, but it’s a possibility that he’s with his father rather than here.”

Kathy inhaled deeply, and before she could launch into her planned ‘you’re an idiot’ speech, Aaron came forward with a travel container of floss. “Bet I can get it with this.”

The officer smiled and stepped away from the door. “All yours, man.”

It took Aaron exactly two tries to pass the floss through the crack in the door and beneath the chain to get it pulled back and successfully unlocked. Payback for the elevator, Kathy shoved him out of the way and walked inside the very second the door was unlatched. Although her gaze was immediately drawn to the decapitated woman lying in a pool of her own dried blood, she forced herself to look around the apartment for the child the officers had been so worried about. The sooner the kid was gone, the sooner she could have a good look around. Near the archway of the kitchen, she squatted down and looked under the table.

She came face-to-face with a tan-skinned, freckle-faced boy. “I-is he gone?” the boy whispered.

Kathy figured he couldn’t be any older than three or four. “I need you to come out from under there.”

“B-but the… the bad guy. He’s gone?”

“If he wasn’t, you’d know, believe me. I’m the police. I’m Detective Baker. Now, come on out.” Tentatively, the boy crawled out from under the table. Kathy rose to her feet and grabbed his hand, walking him past his mother’s body and back to the door. “Can you take care of this?” she asked.

Aaron nodded. “I’ve got it, Kathy,” he promised.

She waited a moment, and when Aaron made no move, she raised a brow. “I’m talking about the kid. I’ve got the damn crime scene, Aaron.”

“Damn. Brutal as always, Katherine.”

Kathy grabbed the boy’s wrist instead and held his hand out to Aaron. “Jamal’s outside.”

Aaron watched her a moment longer before shaking his head. He grabbed the kid and lifted him, swinging him around to rest on his hip. “I gotcha, kid,” he said, his voice soft as he headed back toward the elevator. He pressed the call button, clearing his throat. “I’m Aaron. Do… you have a name?”

“Jensen.”

“Jensen. That’s cool. I like that.” Jensen nodded, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his watery green eyes looked around the hallway. “How old are you, Jensen?”

“Umm… three.” He held up two fingers, thought about it, and then held up three. “Four soon.”

“How soon?”

He looked down for a moment. “August.”

“Next month,” Aaron whispered. Jesus. Not even four years old and his mom was dead. Brutally so. Aaron was a lot of things, but a person who wished that kind of start to life on a three-year-old kid wasn’t one of them.

Outside, Jamal was out of the car before Aaron even made it to the end of the sidewalk. “My God. There was a kid in there?”

“Under the table, only a couple feet away from his mom.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jamal took the boy from Aaron, placing a protective hand on the back of his head. “I’m going to call Social Services and take him to the hospital, just to make sure he’s okay. If I’m not back when you’re done, Katherine—”

“She can catch a ride with me,” Aaron said.

“If she… won’t, though? Call me. I’ll have someone bring her car.”

Aaron shook her head. “Don’t know how you put up with all her shit, Sarge.”

“Watch your mouth. That’s my girl you’re talking about, Detective.”

Aaron held up his hands in mock innocence. He nodded back toward the apartment building. “Headin’ back up. See you at the station.”

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