Heads Will Roll – Chapter Twenty-Four

NOT EDITED

“The blood from the basement was definitely fresh from the father of the original killer in California, but the one from Carol Jameson’s scene came back positive for EDTA, and so did the reporter’s blood from Logan’s bedroom.”

“And… what’s that, exactly?” Jeff asked, leaned back against one of the evidence shelves, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid. It’s an anticoagulant. The inside of the tubes used for blood draws are coated with it, and once you shake the tube well enough, it mixes with the blood to keep it from clotting in the tube,” Bo said.

After a moment, Jeff nodded. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Did we come back with a DNA hit too, or just the anticoagulant thing?”

“Yes. Cross-checking with the Missing Persons, we were able to identify it as belonging to Doctor Henry Sullivan, the psychologist the department assigned Rick to after the shooting,” Bo said.

“Why wasn’t that caught earlier?” Jeff asked. “These two blood spots being preserved or whatever and both belonging to someone in the database. I know Logan’s was just today, but with Carol’s scene. How was that missed?”

“Unless you know a scene is directly related to a missing persons case, running all DNA evidence against their database is generally going to be considered pointless and a waste of time and resources. It’s just not protocol right now, even if it might be beneficial in cases like this.”

Jeff pulled his ballcap off his head, looking down as he toyed with it between his hands. “So in this case, does that information get us anywhere? Because from where I’m standing, I guess it… it doesn’t really seem like it does.”

“It… tells us that the guy who killed Miss Jameson has likely killed Doctor Sullivan too. The blood in Logan’s room tells us that the guy who took him probably also killed a reporter. The blood left at the basement of the school still doesn’t tell us… anything. From a legal standpoint, we can’t necessarily connect her kidnapping to anything, and we can’t directly connect any of the currently… presented victims to each other. The DNA evidence even takes away the certainty that there are two killers instead of one. Frankly, if it weren’t for Kathy leaking information to the press and pissing off our main man, we wouldn’t be able to confirm at all now. But if that call to Rick was true, he confirmed there are two of them, and that the main guy is lying to the other one about who he is.”

Jeff seemed to take it all in for a moment before his brow furrowed. “If it was true? Are you saying Rick’s lying about it?”

Bo shook his head, but his heart had already started racing at the accusation, and his body had already tensed up in preparation for an attack.

“He’s saying the guy who called Rick could still be lying,” Dallas piped in from the doorway. When Bo’s gaze shifted in his direction, Dallas simply offered that reassuring half-smile Bo had grown so incredibly fond of over the years. “Not just to his partner in crime, but to Rick as well. It could be just another one of his little games, since he seems to be getting so much joy from them.”

“How likely do you think it is that he’s lying?” Jeff asked.

“Given his sudden escalation of taking the kid before he’s displayed all the bodies we think he’s got stored up?” Dallas asked. “Pretty likely it’s not a bluff. But the man’s clearly about a million kinds of unstable and unpredictable, so I don’t really think we should put our eggs in any one basket.” He cleared his throat. “But right now, if we assume it’s not a bluff and that everything we’ve been given by the man himself is true, then it seems like the only real thing we can do now is wait for the call he said he’d make, right? That’s what the blood on the wall said?”

“Right,” Jeff said with a little nod. He checked his watch. “I spoke to Rick and Heidi less than an hour ago. They hadn’t heard anything, and Rick promised he’d call if that changed.”

“Call,” Dallas echoed, closing his eyes briefly as he moved a hand to his temple. “So he’s not at the station?”

“They’re at Heidi’s mom’s place with the rest of the kids.”

“We should check his desk phone, just to be safe,” Dallas said.

“I can access his voicemail,” Jeff said.

“Great. You two go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”

Bridget caught Bo’s eye only long enough to confirm he was fine with that plan before turning to follow Jeff out of the room.

“I’m going to sit this one out,” Dallas said once they were alone.

“Sit out… checking Rick’s phone for a voicemail?” Bo asked.

“No. Sorry. Uh, after Jeff is done checking it, I have a feeling that you guys are gonna need to go somewhere. And when you do, I’m… going to stay here. Or, not here here, but in my car. By myself.”

“Wow,” Bo whispered. “What does it say to you?”

“What?”

“I’ve known you more than long enouhg to know this is that thing,” Bo said. “If what it says to you is bad enough to make you sit out the next portion of a case, especially a case you flew over a thousand miles to be part of?”

“I didn’t fly here for the case, I flew here for you because Bridget asked me to. That has nothing to do with what it says or doesn’t say. I came here to help my best friend with something, and I did that, and if this voicemail doesn’t pan out, I’ll do it some more. But I need some time away from everyone else until then. Okay?”

“Whatever it tells you, Dallas, I-I’m here to listen. I can help you. Y-you just have to let me help you.”

“I do not need help. I don’t need your help, Bo. You talking one crazy woman down from the ledge doesn’t mean you have some… some profound responsibility to help every Joe Blow that hears fucking voices, okay?” Bo took an involuntary step back, one hand moving to fiddle with the latch of his watch. Dallas stepped forward, both hands held up. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean to… to raise my voice. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Bo whispered, shaking his head. “I-it’s not your fault my body takes any sort o-of loud voice as a personal attack.”

“Except for this one was a personal attack, and I’m sorry for that. Truly.”

“I know better than to keep bothering you about it. That’s… that’s completely on me, Dallas. I just need a-a moment to breathe, is all.”

“I’ll wait here with you, okay?”

Bo offered a nod rather than any further verbal response. Motions were always easier than words when his heart was thundering in his chest and echoing in his ears. Panic attack, meltdown, shutdown — it didn’t really matter what it was. What did matter was Dallas supporting him through it for the millionth time, even after Bo had poked and prodded him into explosion.

Upstairs, Jeff entered the four-digit code to access Rick’s voicemail. It wasn’t often that anyone in the small town left voicemails on the office phones rather than with the receptionist or on their cell phones. The robotic, “You have one new message,” made Jeff’s stomach drop as he lowered himself into Rick’s chair.

“Rick. I guess I missed you. And here I thought you’d be waiting by the phone, sitting on the edge of your seat, hoping I really would call about your sweet little boy. Well, I’ll do my best to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ll call your cell again. But if you don’t answer that one, I’m afraid you’ll never see your little boy again. At least, not with his head attached.”

“Oh, my God,” Bridget whispered.

“What?”

“His voice. That’s the fucking bus driver.”

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**A/N: I’m so sorry for the delay! No matter what I did or how I rewrote it, the characters and I were deadlocked with a complete standstill. I probably rewrote certain parts of this chapter over twenty times before finally getting to the point where I could call it complete and post it. Hopefully you won’t have to wait nearly as long for the next one, but I appreciate your patience so much in waiting for this one

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