The Day She Came Back
by Stephen Brandt
Chapter 1 All the New Stuff
Part of the charm of being a detective is not having regular nine to five work shifts, however working odd hours really plays with your internal clock. You really have to be a night owl to work this job, or have no life. Or you could be like me and take what life gives you.
"Dude, it's my day off, why the hell are you waking me?" I said when Colin, my partner called me at 4 in the morning. See what I say about throwing your internal clock off?
"Well bro, get your ass over to 18th and Vine now," Colin said. "Blame Tibbits on this one, I didn't want to get up either." Lt. Ed Tibbits was the new Homicide CO, didn't follow by the normal rotation rules. At Kansas City Homicide, each pair of Homicide detectives had every other weekend off. Nine times out of ten, that rotation worked out. Though there were some detectives who would come in on their weekends off to tie up loose ends on open cases, or catch a call before it goes into rotation.
"Alright, I'll see you in twenty," I said turning my phone off and rolling over to wake up Rachel.
"Keith, where you going?" Rachel said sleeply like. Rachel Hector has been my on and off girlfriend for the last ten years. I'll admit, I'm not great with women, but it seems with Rachel, I've been good with her.
"Colin called me out to a scene," I said while getting ready, I had left out some work clothes on one of my chairs. As much as I complained to Colin about it, I was pretty sure that I was going to get a call in. Lt. Tibbits hadn't pulled an out of rotation call in a month, so I figured we were overdue.
"You know we have that writers group at noon?" Rachel asked. I was a writer on the side, writing mostly crime novels. I know not a surprise.
"Yeah, I know, I should be there," I said. It wasn't my original goal in life to be a homicide detective. After my Dad moved to Kansas City, to be a homicide detective, I decided to leave college and follow my Dad. I did eventually go back and finish my degree in English.
"Ok, love ya babe," Rachel said falling back to sleep. Rachel is the editor of the Kansas City Star. I'd first met her on the Millard Gates murder case. Gates was the editor before Rachel, and he was murdered in front of the Negro Leagues Hall Of Fame in downtown Kansas City. I'd just been left by my fiancée Alyssa Smaush, because she thought I was cheating on her. Which she was wrong about.
I didn't grow up in Kansas City, I was originally from Columbus, Ohio, but when I visited the University of Kansas on my college tour, I fell in love with the area. I could have gone to Ohio State (the local college) but I felt getting away from my family at the time was a good idea. While KU isn't in Kansas City, it's only forty miles west of Kansas City. So it was a great place for me to settle down.
I flashed my badge and the CSU people who had set up a roadblock, a block in each direction. With this not being one of the best places in town, we had to make sure no idiots got through. It's not common for another crime to happen while cleaning up another, but it has happened.
"Hey Colin, whatta we have here?" I said to Colin. "Wait Big Man, this address should have been familiar to me, the Negro League Hall of Fame is not too far from here." Colin Henderson without shoes on is six foot seven, and probably on a good day two hundred seventy pounds. He was also one of the best cooks I've ever had the pleasure of having food from.
"Yup, it is right down there," Colin said pointing to the right.
"Anyway, two males, shot ten times, stripped nude, and their wallets jammed up their ass's," Colin said. "And stuffed in the trunk of the car over there."
"Damn, but this seems like a Sex Crimes one, why are we here?" I asked. As gross as this one was, it still wasn't the worst I've had the honor of investigating.
"Lemme finish, we found some spend casings over here," Colin said using a BIC pen to pick up some casing. "Remind you of anyone?" He passed over a copper shell with three grooves, and a shaved down point. That type of bullet only meant one thing. Kristin Tenison, my ex-wife, turned killer. We got married in college, and were separated three years later because I became a cop. Little did I know at the time that it was because she was a fugitive.
"Damnit, it can't be," I said. "She's dead, I know it."
"Did you actually see her body at the morgue?" Colin said. Tension was involved in the shooting of Gates, and we had tracked her down to a place in the warehouse district. There was a shoot out, and we were told by the FBI to go home, because everything was done.
"Come to think of it, no I didn't," I said. "But the FBI Agent Ceila Mickerson was all over it.".
"Yeah, but I wouldn't mind if she was all over me," Colin said. Colin, despite his size was a babe-magnet. Most women thought that he was a football player, and in another life he was.
"Hahaa, yeah, but you aren't her flavor of person," I said. Whoever did this, Kristin or not, really ruined a good car. It was a 2008 Ford Focus, with nice new tires, and a V8 engine. I hate when people ruin good things when they commit their crimes. Before Colin was my partner, I had a case where a guy was killed in his Bentley. When I finally caught up to the suspect, I beat him so bad that the case was thrown out on police brutality. I was almost fired, but they give me six months off instead.
"Yeah, I know she doesn't date cops," Colin said.
"No, she doesn't date men," I said. It was sad but true, but Celia wasn't a fan of men. Before I figured out she wasn't straight, I made a pass at her. And that was an interesting conversation.. (flesh this out)
She knew that it was risky coming back to Kansas City, but she had things to see to ending some painful memories. If she played her cards right, there would be a face off with the man who ruined her life. And she might take a run at that detective she used to be married to. All in good time, as she always said.
As Kristin sat there in her new black bra, and black panties, she wondered when the call was going to come. She never planned to become a killer, but when Mom and Dad were shot in cold blood, she had to do something. Keith wasn't that much of a help either. Sure, Keith was a good guy, and followed the rules, but he didn't have that instinct to kill someone.
That's not saying, she wanted to have the person killed, but the police found no leads in their murders, so she had to do what she had to do. It wasn't hard to find someone to help her. All see had to do was float some false rumors around the ghetto that she was a fugitive, and needed some backing to kill someone. People literally came knocking at her door.
Some guy name Regynor, literally wouldn't leave her alone when he found out. It didn't help that hey never showed up in person, sending just two thugs to talk to her. Dork and Dofus, is what she called them, because they never gave their names. Finally after a lucrative offer, she had to agree.
They had found her a place to stay in the city where no one would suspect her living. Strangely, they had picked Vine Street for her new place. Being a single, gorgeous female, it was a bad place in Kansas City to live. Thankfully her father had taught her about guns at an early age. Dad had always loved the Beretta's, so that's all she had known. The Beretta's were a pain to find on the street in Kansas City, so Kristin had to take a business trip to East St. Louis for her arsenal. It was well known that if you needed something done, and legally you couldn't do it, there would be someone in East St. Louis who could do it for you.
Kristin's phone buzzed, in her jeans sitting on the floor. "Yes?" She said.
"Your problem has been taken care of, we need you vacate the premise by noon tomorrow," the voice said before they hung up.
"What problem?" Kristin said into the phone before realizing it was over with. Just then she heard a flurry of gunshots and a car driving off.
"Nah, it can't be, " She said putting her clothes back on to see what was happening. It was damn inconvenient of her strip down to her undies, but Kristin didn't think that she was going out the rest of the night.
"911, what's your emergency?" The operator said when Kristin picked up the phone.
"I'd like to report a shooting down by the Negro League Hall of Fame," Kristin said.
"M'am, what did you say?" The operator said to make clarify what she had heard.
"I'll say it again, so you can hear me, I heard some shots down by the Negro League Hall of Fame," Kristin said. "Now get your police down here." She slammed the phone down after that, realizing again why she hated dealing with people. Well, she only liked to deal with people, when it would benefit her.
She knew eventually that Keith would track her down, as much of a softy as he was; Kristin had to admit that he was a damn good detective. The fact he was still in Kansas City was alarming.
Celia was just reading over some status reports on the drug bust in St. Joseph's Missouri. The fact that she was still awake at this time wasn't alarming. She hated reading the reports, but she knew with the FBI, everything had to be documented. It was almost like if you had a coherent thought, it had to be documented. Thank God for computers, and the Internet, because she couldn't imagine the amount of paper they used back before the Vice President invented the Internet.
These reports were the only thing she hated about being in the FBI, save the post in Missouri. Though, she didn't mind living in Kansas City, because the gay population of the city was actually good looking. The FBI didn't ask if she was gay, but it wasn't a secret. It did keep the guys off of her, at least at the office.
Thank God, her boredom was interrupted by a call from the field.
"Yes, this is Special Agent Celia Mikerson," She said into her earpiece. "I can be out there in ten minutes."
"Mike, the KCPD has called in us, they think they've got another crime scene," Celia said.
"Yeah, so why do they need you?" FBI Agent Mike Wilder said. He was the station chief. Mike, long ago had been on the fast track for an administrative job in DC, but for some reason he cashed out and moved to KC.
"Kristin Tenison," Celia said. Tenison was before Celia's time, but since she was assigned to Kansas City, the case file ended up on her desk.
"Ah well, I might as well come with you, I was part of the original case," Mike said. "Sam, take over for me, this looks like it's going to be a tough one." Mike was a small, dark haired Latino man who had come to the States with his family when he was a very young child. He looked the part, but couldn't speak a lick of Spanish.
"Ok," Agent Sam Spade said. "When do you want the reports?"
"Just get them to me when you are done," Celia said. "I've seen the early reports, so nothing will surprise me, just make sure that you crossed the T's and dotted the eyes." It was a simple drug bust, but the bureaucracy around here, everything had to be to the point. Plus, Celia had a suspicion that this bust could come back and hurt them. It just didn't feel right to her. It's wasn't her first drug bust, but there was a queasy feeling in her stomach every time she thought of it. Maybe it was the lack of sleep.
(flesh out)
Keith thought that this was an odd place for two white guys to be killed. Maybe, though highly unlikely, they may have been killed somewhere else and moved. With the blood and the positioning of the bodies, it wasn't likely that was happening.
"What about any of Kristin's family?" Colin asked while smoking. "Could they have done this?"
"No, her family is all dead," I said. "At least I think so." I really didn't know what to believe with her, which was sad because I kind of still love Kristin.
"Campbell," I said as my phone buzzed. I would have looked at the caller idea, but I was still fascinated with this crime scene.
"I need to talk to you," said a familiar female voice. "It might help you with what you are looking at right now."
"What? Who?" I said, it took me a little bit to realize what was happening, and who was calling me.
"My, my Kristin we were just talking about you," I said. "How can you see me?"
"Yeah, I kinda figured you'd be looking for me," Kristin said. "Look behind the tape." Sure enough there was Kristin, standing there. She looked amazing as usual, and she had blonde highlights in her hair now.
"Oh I see you," I said closing the phone. "Hey Colin guess who decided to show up?"
"Who?" Colin asked still bent over the bodies.