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The bedroom door was slightly ajar and he pointed his gun allowing his training to take over as he pushed the door opened with his other hand.
It was dark and he could hardly make out the figure on the bed.
Something jumped toward him but he didn’t shoot as he heard the cat cry out as Precious jumped off the bed.
“Freeze right there,” he told the person as he reached to the sidewall to flick the light switch on.
As the dark room instantly turned bright his mouth dropped at the sight and his arms fell to his side as he saw Jamie tied to the bed, beaten and bloodied.
He ran to her, screaming her name, praying she wasn’t dead as he went around the side noting the path he took, trying not to disturb any possible evidence. He was thinking like a detective, even at a time like this. First he had to see if she was alive then take the next step.
As he reached toward her neck placing his two fingers gently against it, he felt the slightest pulse. She was alive but just barely.
He reached for his cell phone first calling 911 then the police department. As he spoke to the homicide commander, he noticed the letter lying next to his wife. He didn’t touch it but knew it was from the serial killer. The one who was after Jamie’s cousin Grace.
“Jamie, Jamie, can you hear me?” Tod kept repeating, but his wife was unresponsive. He untied her wrists from the bedpost, gently placing them at her side.
As he looked at her, his heart ached. He felt helpless and scared. He carefully pulled the tape from her eyes and she didn’t move at all. He feared the worse. Her eyes were swollen, there was some kind of brown oily liquid pooled around them and her cheeks were cut and bruised. The slightest smell of motor oil filled his nostrils. She lay there, clothes torn off of her, cuts on her chest and belly. Tod closed his eyes as tight as he could.
This can’t be real. I can’t lose Jamie.
He heard the sirens in the distance. Then the front door opened. There was stomping up the stairs, and he turned to see the police officer’s guns drawn until they caught sight of him. He recognized the cop. It was a friend of his, Billy Butler.
“The paramedics just pulled up. Is she alive, Tod?”
Tod nodded his head then stared at his wife.
Not long after the other detectives, his friends showed up along with Frank.
The paramedics were taking care of Jamie as the detectives were snapping pictures trying to maintain their professionalism and not contaminate any possible forensic evidence left behind. If Jamie died, they would need as much evidence as possible.
Tod followed the gurney out of the bedroom and met Frank in the hallway. One of the patrol officers was explaining the situation.
“It was the killer, Frank. He went after Jamie. She could die,” Tod told him as he combed his fingers through his hair and blinked his eyes trying to stop the tears from escaping.
“How do you know, Tod?” he began to ask, but Tod cut him off.
“There’s one of his sick fucking poems on the bed. He was going to kill her. I didn’t touch it but I could read it from where I stood. He knows how close Jamie and Grace are. He’s trying to make a point. She might die, man,” Tod repeated as Frank put his hand on his shoulder.
“You go with Jamie. I’m going to make sure everything goes smoothly here. Then I’ll come to the hospital. She’s going to make it, Tod,” Frank said.
Tod looked around his house as he descended the staircase. His house was swarming with police. His home was being invaded, violated and he thought of his young twenty-five-year-old wife and what she must have gone through. He prayed she would survive this as he jumped into the ambulance with her.
* * * *
“What do have so far, guys?” Frank asked as he stood in the bedroom doorway.
“Well we have the note bagged, we’re gathering some fingerprints off of the dresser by the bed as well as the cord that opens the blinds. Tod said they were closed when he entered the room. Tod really kept it together, man. I don’t think I could have done that,” one of the detectives said and the others around the room agreed.
Frank took the letter from the Detective.
“Are you sure you want to see that?” the other detective asked and Frank nodded as he began to read.
My dearest Grace, a gift for thee,
I could have killed her so easily.
She’s not like you, none of them come close,
