Finding Happiness Ch. 01

Donna spoke up. "Honey, things are important. They are our history. She will need to have her things with her."

Bob sounded impatient. "I was not saying she couldn't bring anything. Of course, Junie, bring anything that has emotional significance. There is plenty of room in the garage attic to store anything she wants to hang onto."

Junie felt a shiver of premonition, "I just hope that guy left me anything to pack."

Junie was struck by the busy energy of the city. Already her mind had adjusted to the easier, more natural rhythms of her new home. She wondered what all these people were in such a hurry for.

The first thing she noticed was that her car was gone. In her assigned parking spot, a small woman in a leather jacket, dark glasses, and brutally short dark hair leaned up against an unmarked police car, talking on a cell phone as they pulled up. As Junie got out of the SUV, she clicked shut the phone and, pulling off her glasses, held out her hand. "June Thomas. Good. My name is Detective Susan Funk. We were a little worried about you there for awhile."

"I am sorry. I guess I should have let someone know I was going somewhere." The detective's eyes were on Bob and Donna, scanning, curious. "These are my friends, Bob and Donna Campbell. They are who I have been visiting."

The detective held out her hand and gave Bob a quick businesslike handshake. Junie looked around again for her car. "Um... do you know what happened to my car?"

"Crime scene took possession of it. There were some body fluids in the car. We weren't sure if he didn't use it to abduct you, Ma'am. Using the victim's car was part of his M.O. They had it at the lab, checking for fibers and blood. It should be at the impound lot now."

Junie swallowed and nodded. "How do I get it back?"

"You can pick it up at anytime. I will give you an address and a case number."

Bob interrupted, "Could she have a tow truck come get it? It will need repairs."

"Shouldn't be a problem, sir."

Always nervous in new situations, Junie was feeling overwhelmed. This little dark-haired detective spoke in quick clipped sentences and seemed almost a cartoon of a police detective. Junie could not help but think of Jack Webb from the Dragnet TV show. She stifled a tiny neurotic giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. Almost unaware of her actions, she turned to walk away, heading back to the SUV.

"Junie." Bob's voice was soft, but it stopped her. Realizing she was once again running away, mindlessly escaping from something that triggered her fears; she spun and stopped with her eyes on him. The small voice in the back of her head commented that it was amazing how he had done that, stopped her with only one word. He turned to the detective. "Junie has been very shaken by this whole experience. Perhaps you could give me the information, and I will help her with it."

The detective looked at Junie and then at Bob. Her eyes narrowed and looked thoughtful. "That should not be a problem, as long as that is what Ms. Thomas wants." She looked directly at Junie. "That is what you want, ma'am?"

"Oh yes, of course." Junie's voice was relieved.

Bob spoke again. "Junie wants to get a few things from her apartment, clothing, her sewing machine, and a few personal items. Perhaps we could go on up to her place."

The detective nodded. "I should warn you. The suspect destroyed a lot of things. You should be prepared."

Junie blinked and took a deep breath. "Okay."

There was a new door and the door jamb had new wood down one whole side. A yellow tape stretched across the whole thing, with a sign stating that only authorized police personnel could enter. Detective Funk cut the tape and pulled a key out of an envelope and opened the door. Junie could see into her kitchen, it seemed like every single item was out of the cabinets and on the floor, the little table was pushed over and the chairs lay on their sides. Her little television was smashed, lying on the floor next to a large hole in the wall. It was obvious that it had been thrown violently across the room.

The detective nodded. "You go ahead and take a look around in there. I need to get some papers from my car and I will be back up in a few."

As Junie stepped in, the smell of mold and decay was strong in her nose. The carpet seemed to squish under her feet. Again the urge to run away was almost more than she could resist. She turned and wrapped her arms around Donna, fighting the panic that squeezed at her chest, struggling to breathe.

Donna spoke over the top of Junie's head. "Honey, it would help if you had a little talk with Junie in the hall to help her calm down. I will open a couple windows and try to air this place out."

Junie felt Bob's hand on her, his fingers were a vice on her arm. His voice was soft in comparison. "Junie, come out into the hall."

Junie mutely let him pull her out into the hall and stood with her eyes miserably on the floor, her breath coming in short gasps. "Junie, take a deep breath and hold it." As she inhaled, he nodded. "Good girl, now I want you to remember that we are here. You are not alone. The crap in there is just crap. We will get what we can and leave. Do you understand?" The last sentence was just as soft, but underneath it was his familiar growl.

Exhaling slowly, Junie nodded and whispered softly. "Yes, Sir."

"When we go back in there, you will remember that you are to not worry about fixing or cleaning anything. Answer all the detective's questions truthfully."

Junie felt a pang of fear, "Even about Sir James?" Her former online relationship with the married preacher was not something she was proud of.

"I said all her questions."

"Yes, Sir."

This time as she went in, Junie felt calmer. It was a disaster inside, but Junie could see that he had not managed to break everything. A lot of her dishes were still intact. She flinched as she saw that all but one of the delicate china tea cups that had been her grandmother's had been shattered. "Just crap. It's all just crap."

As she picked up the single intact teacup, a tear rolled down her cheek and fell into it. She carefully set the cup down and took a deep breath. "Crap."

Her bedroom was worse. It seemed that the bed had taken most of his rage. Great rents tore through the fabric and it was saturated with what looked like blood. Detective Funk walked in and spoke up. "Crime scene says it is a mixture of ketchup, fingernail polish, and salsa, plus anything he could find around the place that was red. No blood."

Her clothing was torn to shreds. As far as Junie could tell there was not a single item that he had not systematically cut to pieces. The bathroom stank of smoke and there was a black smear running up the side of the wall above the bathtub. The bathtub was half full of black water and half burned paper, photos, personal records, receipts, letters; the whole contents of Junie's filing cabinet.

"Fuck!" For the first time Junie felt rage. "That fucking son of bitch!" She stomped her foot on the floor, smashing the shards of the broken mirror into smaller pieces.

"Junie, don't hurt yourself." Bob's voice pulled her attention back to his words.

"Yes, I remember, it is all just crap." Junie's voice was bitter and angry.

Donna pulled Junie back into her arms. "Sweet, sweet Junie, it was not crap. It is just broken now. We will help you put it back together. Just think you won't have to pack so much now."

Junie choked down a hysterical giggle. "Yes, I just have to throw it all away."

"No." Bob's voice was sharp. "You are not going to stay here any longer than you need to pick up the few things you can salvage. We will pay someone else to clean up this mess."

The detective spoke up. "Ms. Thomas, I understand that it is difficult to tell, but is there anything here that is not yours? Anything he may have left behind?"

Junie stood and looked around the chaos, blinking away the tears. Peeking out from under her bed seemed to be a coil of rope, once white and now stained with the spilled condiments. "That rope. That is not mine."

Detective Funk nodded and made a note. "Don't touch it. Crime scene will have to get it. Should have noticed that myself. I have some questions I need to ask you, Ms. Thomas." Detective Funk looked meaningfully at Bob and Donna. "Privately, Ms. Thomas."

Donna spoke up. "I am acting as Ms. Thomas' lawyer. If you have any questions I should be present."

The Detective looked up, surprised, her eyes taking in the tall slender redhead, dressed in casual khaki shorts and light blouse. "You are a lawyer?"

Donna nodded, her eyes sharp, "A member of the State of Washington Bar Association. Do you want to see my card?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Donna smiled a predatory smile and reaching into her bag pulled out an identification card and a business card and handed both to the detective. She turned and spoke to Bob. "Still comes in handy now and then."

The Detective seemed uncomfortable. "Well, you can stay if Ms. Thomas requests it, but you both can't stay."

Bob held up his hand and shrugged. "Junie, I will go see what I can do about getting a repair company to pick up your car."

After Bob left, Detective Funk looked at Junie. "Ms. Thomas, I am not questioning you because you are suspected of any wrong doing. It is just that the suspect, Samuel Card, is suspected of being involved in a number of disappearances of women... women who are um..." Again she looked at Donna and then Junie. "Women who are into bondage. Women who have been in communication with men over the internet in what's referred to as online bondage relationships. I need to ask you, ma'am, if you have been in one of those type relationships."

Junie nodded. "I already told Detective Sangstrom that I was in an online relationship. It was a, as you refer to it, bondage relationship. That relationship is over. I am no longer in communication with that man. I am sure that he is not this Sam Card man."

"We don't think he was. It's beginning to appear that Card passed himself off as some kind of a mentor to men who were in these types of relationships. He would talk to them. Give them advice. Find out everything he could about the women. Not long after that, the women would disappear."

Detective Funk held out a picture. "Ma'am, have you ever seen this man before?"

Junie looked at the picture of the man with blond hair, mustache and a receding hairline. "Oh my god, he talked to me once. He was outside on the sidewalk, looking up at the building. He asked me about the apartment complex. He said he was thinking about renting here and wanted to know about the building security. Oh god. I actually told him which apartment was mine." Junie shook her head. "I was so stupid."

The detective shrugged. "Ma'am, I have some photos of the knives we found in your apartment. I want you to look at them. Is there any here that aren't yours?"

Junie looked at the pictures, one at a time, shuffling through them. She stopped at a picture of a wooden handled hunting knife. "This is not mine. I have never seen it before."

"Thought that might be the case. Seemed a bit out of place. We found it stabbed into the wall above the bed. No blood on it though. We are still trying to track down the weapon that he used to stab the woman in Oregon."

"There was another knife." Donna's voice was thoughtful. "The one he left in your car, Junie."

Junie nodded and reached into her purse. She had put the plastic bag with the urine stained photo and the knife in her purse before they left to come to the city. She held out the bag. "I found this in my car Friday morning. I think that Sam guy put it in my car after he broke the window."

The detective's eyes lit up at the bag. "Did you touch that knife, Ms. Thomas?"

Junie made a face. "It had pee all over it. I picked it up with the plastic bag and then turned the whole thing inside out around it. I never touched anything inside the bag."

"Excellent. That knife looks like it could be the one we are looking for."

Junie made a face. "My former online relationship guy told him to put it in my car."

"Ma'am, we need to know the name of that man."

"Okay, but he really didn't know that this man was going to try and hurt me. He just was tricked by him. I don't think he did anything illegal."

"We only want to question him about the things that Samuel Card said to him. With each new victim this Card guy would change his computer ISP, his online pseudonyms, even the state he lived in. The only thing we have to track him with is the sort of things he said to the guys he was giving advice to."

"His name was James Conrad. He lives in Texas." Junie looked at Donna. "You have his address. It was in my filing cabinet."

Donna nodded and pulled out a small notebook and read off the address. "This guy won't be happy to hear from you. He is trying to keep his online antics secret from his wife and his congregation. He has offered Junie a bribe of a new car for her to not try to contact him again. In light of the condition of her old car I advised her to accept his offer, as long as he was feeling so generous."

The detective smiled. "Well, maybe I can have the FBI detectives contact him discretely."

"FBI?" Junie's voice was shocked.

"He is the prime suspect in two known murders, ma'am, and one attempted murder we know about for sure. The FBI is thinking he may have killed at least a dozen women."

Junie staggered and swayed. "Oh god. Oh my god." She walked out of the apartment and into the hall, once again unable to catch her breath.

Donna was beside her quickly. "Sit down, Junie. Sit down on the floor and take deep slow breaths." After Junie had slid down the wall and sat down on the carpet, Donna looked at the detective. "I think Ms. Thomas has answered enough questions for now."

"She will still need to make a formal statement. The FBI will need to interview her as well."

"Not today. You have my number. If you need to contact Ms. Thomas, you can reach her through me."

The detective had a sour look on her face. "Well, I did not have that many more things to ask anyway."

Donna crouched down by Junie. "Baby, I did not see your sewing machine. Where did you keep it?"

Junie was still struggling to control her breathing. "Closet... bedroom closet."

"You stay here. I will go back and see if it is salvageable."

"Yes, Ma'am."

At the word Ma'am, the detective's head came up, her eyes sharp and measuring. Donna's eyes met hers, challenging. The detective shrugged and turned away.

After Donna turned and walked back into the apartment, the detective spoke softly. "Ms. Thomas, are you okay? Are these people making you do anything you don't want to do?"

Junie looked up, surprised and angry. "These people are my friends. If they had not been there for me, I would probably be dead right now. And no, they are not making me do anything I don't want to do."

"If you say so, ma'am."

"I say so." Junie's voice was final.

Donna came out with Junie's sewing machine in her arms. "It was in the back corner under a bunch of torn up clothes. It doesn't look damaged at all. There was a plastic storage box with some sewing stuff in it that seemed okay, too. I will go get that."

Bob stood next to the SUV talking with the building manager. "Junie, the manager tells me that the building insurance will cover the damage to your apartment and that they will have no objection to your breaking the lease. I told her that you are going to move out of the city." He helped them load the sewing machine and box into the back of the SUV.

Donna looked at Junie. "Is there anything else you want to do?"

"I just want to go home. Please, can we just go home?"

That was all that Junie managed to salvage, the sewing machine, a box of sewing patterns and notions, and the single teacup. She rode home with the teacup in her hands, turning it round and round, every once in a while whispering softly to herself. "Crap, it's all just crap."

Junie stood before the door, watching the wood splinter. She tried to pull air into her lungs, but she could not scream. The door shook and bulged again. He was kicking it in. He was coming in to get her. She wanted to run but her legs could not move. There was nowhere to run. She was trapped. As the door fell in, she saw his face. Finally, a terrified shriek ripped from her throat.

She was sitting up in bed. Bob's hands were shaking her, his voice loud in her ears. "Junie! Junie, wake up!"

Junie looked at him confused, still shuddering in absolute horror. Again he shook her. "Junie!"

Junie shook herself, and drew in a deep gasping breath. "I'm awake. It was a dream, a bad dream." She looked past Bob into Donna's concerned eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Hush, little one, I am not surprised. It's okay. Remember you are safe now. Nothing can hurt you."

"Yes, Ma'am." Junie leaned against Bob, her body still trembling, a soft sob shook her and then another.

His arms sheltered her, holding her close and tight. "Let it go. You have been holding this in all day and night. Let it go." Junie clung to him as she grieved the loss. It wasn't just her belongings; it felt that she had lost something much larger. Suddenly the world seemed like a much scarier place, filled with monsters and lurking danger. It would never be the same again.

Bob held her rocking and crooning, with Donna stroking her hair. Junie cried deep, soft sobs until she fell asleep in his arms.

You might recognize this story as one I had up in the past, under the titled Northwest Hunters. I took it down for revision and a brief flirtation with possible publication.

Book One of Northwest Hunters, title Joining the Circle is already posted.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Please take the time to rate and leave a comment if the spirit moves you.

Enjoy

xantu