Where the Blame Lies(13)

He removed the bottle from her lips and stood. Her heart constricted. He was going to leave now. Leave her alone in the dark again. “Please stay,” she whispered, her voice pleading. “Please don’t go.” Even when he was touching her in unwanted ways, defiling her, it was better than the silent nothingness, the awful aloneness of day after day and night after horrible night. She’d never known such utter loneliness.

He stared down at her. “You stink.”

“Then wash me.”

She saw his eyes narrow minutely and he seemed to hesitate, but he nodded. “I’ll be back.”

He did come back, the very next morning, and he used baby wipes to clean her body. He was gentle between her legs, and as he moved the cloth over her, the pace of his breathing increased. He was aroused. She squeezed her eyes shut as he mounted her, dirtying her once again. But afterward he washed her once more, though the cloth moved more harshly over her tender skin as he wiped away his semen. “I s-see why all those men wanted you, Josie. You think I d-don’t? You think I don’t know that you’ve gotten to me too? There’s something about y-you. Something that makes men weak, even m-me. Whores like you have their dirty tricks, don’t they, J-Josie? Whores have a w-way of making men d-do things they know they shouldn’t. Bad, b-bad things. Things that r-ruin lives.”

She didn’t speak, as tears coursed down her cheeks. He wiped her face and then used another cloth to clean her scalp, moving her hair this way and that. He tied it up in a rubber band he’d brought and then stood, stepping back and looking down at her. His eyes were flinty, despite the warm color of his irises. He zipped up his pants and left her alone once more. Alone in the darkness, the worst type of solitude.





CHAPTER SIX


Zach found Cedric Murphy sitting in the break room with his feet up on the table, scrolling through his phone. “Cope,” he greeted, his deep voice friendly, his smile wide. Zach liked the older detective and had often sought his advice on cases. He might be skating by a bit for the next twelve months, but his knowledge of the job was invaluable. In his twenty-four years, Zach figured Murphy had just about seen it all. Zach had the vague memory of the man ducking into Josie’s hospital room all those years ago, his expression grim, his jaw tight.

When Murphy saw the look on Zach’s face, he sat back from his computer, frowning. “What’s up?”

“Hey Murphy. I need to get some information from you about an old case.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“The Josie Stratton abduction? You remember it?”

Murphy blew out a breath, coming to his feet. “Remember it? I’ll never forget it. What do you need to know and why?”

Zach lowered his voice. “We could have a copycat.”

Murphy looked briefly stunned. “You serious?” He paused. “I have her file box stored down the hall. Wait for me in interview room one and we’ll talk.”

None of the detectives had offices, just an open floor with desks, so they sometimes used interview rooms to get some privacy. Zach entered interview room one and waited for Murphy. He came in five minutes later, holding an evidence box that he set on the table. “What makes you suspect a copycat?”

They both took a seat and Zach broke down the crime scene he’d been at the night before, and then the meeting with Cathlyn that morning.

“That phrase—casus belli—got leaked to the press. It was all over the news.”

“Yeah, Cathlyn remembered that too.”

“Same thing with the chain. It was reported that Josie Stratton was chained to the wall. We hadn’t given out that detail though. My guess is that someone at the hospital who was privy to that information, talked to a reporter.”

Zach nodded, thinking. “This guy used a condom. The man who abducted and raped Josie Stratton obviously didn’t. What are your thoughts there?”

Murphy let out a long sigh, opening the box next to them and taking out Josie’s file. He opened it in front of him and leafed through it for a moment, his eyes tightening at the corners. From where he sat, Zach could see photos of the crime scene Josie had escaped from and subsequently been able to lead police to, photos of Josie herself, face gaunt, her postpartum body malnourished and fighting infection, but eyes filled with fire. Despite the hell she’d endured, she still had fight in her, if only a spark. He’d seen it then, and he could see it now, even in an upside-down photograph as Murphy quickly turned the page. It felt like a hot poker seared the underside of his skin. The only words he had to describe the emotion coursing through him was deep admiration.

“If the copycat knows the case, he knows that Josie Stratton had just given birth when she escaped. If he’s smart, he learned from the first guy, learned not to get his victim pregnant, and learned not to leave DNA evidence behind.”

Zach nodded. The same conclusion Cathlyn had come to as well.

“The other thing that’s similar is the starvation factor,” Murphy noted. “Marshall Landish didn’t leave Josie Stratton to starve to death, but she often went hungry, often feared starvation.”

“Do you think this new suspect tried the same method and accidentally killed his victim that way?”

“Could be, or could be it wasn’t his intention to starve her at all. He could have been picked up on another charge, spent time in jail while his victim slowly starved in that basement.”