The Consequences: Bathville Books, #3

By Carol Kravetz

A serial cop killer is on the loose. Detectives Paul Cameron, Dave Andrews, Cathy Edwards and Krista Nolan, now a well-established power team in the Bathville Police Department, must pool their resources with the rest of Massachusetts' finest to try and find the killer before his next murder. With the distraction of special celebrations and personal conflicts, the power team experiences unanticipated dynamic challenges and major changes in their individual relationships. When one of the team does something completely unexpected and out of character, the consequences that arise from the actions set in motion a chain of events that, tied in with the killer, ends in tragedy. Is the team strong enough to overcome the consequences and find their way back to peace and harmony? Only time can tell….

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol Kravetz
• Release date: Oct 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201820497

Carol Kravetz

I was born and raised in Northern Ireland, near Belfast. I emigrated to Canada in my mid 20s and while there, started writing. My daytime job was as a medical secretary to various health care professionals, but my spare time was dedicated to my writing. I lived in Canada for 12 years and during that time had almost completed seven novels in a series. After living at home for a year, I moved to the United States and continued my career as a medical secretary. My writing was shelved for just a little while during my time in the States but, since returning to Northern Ireland upon my husband’s retirement 8 years ago, I have been able to resume my writing. I currently live in Comber and work full time within the Education Authority and dedicate as much time as possible to my family and my writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

August 2013

A beautiful, long legged, ebony skinned woman stepped out of the police station into the blazing sun of an early August morning. She took a second to glance up at the hazy blue sky then, stifling a yawn, turned left and started towards the place where her car was parked. The dark grey Civic, although it had seen better days, gleamed a welcome to her from the far end of the parking lot where she had left it the night before, at the start of her shift.

Opening the trunk with the key - no fancy remote trunk release on her car, no sir; couldn’t quite afford a new vehicle, yet - Officer Cheryl Williams carefully stowed away her night stick and mace spray and got into the driver seat. Cheryl was dead tired, she hated working the night shift on weekends, but she only had one more night to go; then she was off on vacation to the Bahamas with her fiancé, Jerome Dickens.

They had started scrimping and saving for the trip a year ago and even though it was summer time and the height of the Atlantic hurricane season they didn’t care, they just wanted to get away and spend some much-needed time together. They wanted to scope out possible places for a return visit, which would hopefully be their honeymoon destination - a gift from Jerome’s parents. While away, they were intending to hash out plans and finalize the guest list for the wedding which was less than five months away, but it was the prospect of just being together, uninterrupted, for seven whole days that made Cheryl smile wickedly to herself. If they made it to the beach once or twice, fine, if they couldn’t tear themselves out of bed.... even finer.

Cheryl had joined the police force straight out of college five years ago. Originally from Boston, Massachusetts, she had moved an hour down the coast to Bathville to start her chosen career and, although she had only a modest income, she was at least able to rent her own two-bedroom apartment about three miles from the precinct.  Jerome’s career as a Pharmaceutical rep was taking off and soon they would have saved enough for the down payment for their first home. Hopefully the timing would work out, so they could get a house about a month before their wedding.

Before starting the engine, Cheryl loosened the barrette holding up her jet-black hair and let the waves tumble over her shoulders. She could feel the tensions of the nightshift easing away from her neck and, promising herself a good long soak in the tub before crashing into bed, she started the car and merged with the rest of the early morning commuter traffic.

About a mile from the precinct her cell phone chirped a greeting. She knew it had to be Jerome and hitting the button on the blue tooth she had absentmindedly inserted into her right ear before driving out of the parking lot she answered his call.

Morning, baby, he greeted, his rich baritone voice making her melt as always. How’s my favorite officer of the law?

Tired, she responded, but happy to hear you.

Likewise. I’ve had a slight change in schedule today, want me to bring breakfast by before you head off to slumber land?

Cheryl smiled to herself. He was so sweet, her Jerome, any unexpected free time he had, he made sure he could spend it with her. Now that sounds like a very doable plan, she purred. And yes, Mickey D’s is fine, but the coffee will have to be from Dunkin’s.

Jerome chuckled in her ear and she could envision his dark brown eyes crinkling up at the corners. I sorta knew you were going to say that but my lady’s wish is my command. I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. Drive carefully, baby.

I will. You too. They blew kisses and disconnected the call. 

Less than ten minutes later, Cheryl pulled into her assigned parking spot outside her ground floor apartment. She had thankfully missed most of the horrendous rush hour traffic and because she was, as far as she knew, the only one in the complex who worked nights, the rest of the parking lot was empty except for two cars she knew belonged to a stay at home mom and a retired, widowed grandfather.

It was barely seven thirty in the morning and already she knew it was going to be a scorcher. She hoped the super had come through the evening before to fix the air conditioning, as promised, because she hated trying to sleep when the bedroom was too hot.

Fumbling through her purse for her keys, with her head bowed, she failed to see a shadow pass over the door in front of her. She fished the keys out of the bottom of the bag, inserted the necessary key into the lock and was just about to push the door open when she felt a hard body slam into her from behind. The impact knocked the wind right out of her

Fear, deep and primitive, poured through her veins. She didn’t know if she was going to be raped or mugged or, worse, killed, all she knew was she couldn’t move. She opened her mouth to take in a deep breath to yell for help but a hand clad in black leather clamped over her mouth and nose and all that came out was a muffled whimper. The only coherent thought Cheryl had in those first few crazy seconds was, He’s wearing gloves...in August???

And then he spoke, his words crystal clear. Move or scream, you black bitch, and you die.

Trained in self defense by the police academy, Cheryl took him at his word and, remembering what she had been taught, forced herself to relax against the door. She tried to turn her head sideways, hoping to catch a glimpse of her assailant, but he would have none of that and smashed the side of her face against the heavy metal door. She tasted blood and tried not to gag but a quick exploration with her tongue told her at least he hadn’t broken any teeth.

Told you not to move, bitch, he reminded her. Except when I tell you to. Open the fucking door and get inside.

Cheryl felt him ease off slightly so she could open the door and, hoping this was when he would be distracted enough to give her a chance to try and fight him off, she was about to do just that when a glint of cold steel bounced off her eyes. She glanced downwards to her right and saw he had a 6-inch hunting knife resting against the crook of her neck and any fight she had in her instantly fled. 'This guy means business', she thought and tried frantically to remember how long Jerome had said he would be. She also tried to remember where her police radio, usually strapped against her shoulder, was. Or even her cell phone, anything so she could try and call for back up. But she didn't even get a chance to figure out where anything was. She had no sooner opened the front door than she was brutally shoved inside and flung against the hall wall.

A painting of a seascape she had bought at Target, years ago when she had first started furnishing her apartment, bounced against its hook and then crashed to the tiled floor. Cheryl had time to see the glass crack, then thought stupidly that she could replace it next time she was in Target. Her last thought before feeling the cold blade of the knife plunge into her left shoulder was, 'It’s so lovely and cool in here, Danny must have stopped by as promised...'

And then her head was pulled cruelly back, and the knife drawn quickly across her throat, severing her jugular and carotid. Her life blood squirted and splashed against the wall where only moments before the seascape had held pride of place. As soon as the knife was plunged into her heart, Officer Cheryl Williams died.

Her attacker watched her lifeless form for a mere few seconds and then, wiping his bloody knife against the black cloth of her police uniform, he walked quickly and calmly from her apartment.  He looked neither left nor right as he strode to his old, white Volkswagen Jetta parked about half-a-block down the street.

No one saw him, not even Jerome who arrived only moments later. He stood in the doorway of Cheryl’s apartment and stared incredulously at the body of his dead fiancée and then, dropping the cups of coffee and bag of egg McMuffins at his feet, with a low mewl, he collapsed to his knees beside her. His hands shook violently as he reached out to try and find out if she was still alive but when he saw the pool of blood mushrooming out over the tiled hall floor, he accepted what his brain had registered as soon as he arrived.

His beloved Cheryl, the woman he was supposed to be spending the rest of this life with, was dead. His mewling became a long, low wail of grief.

CHAPTER TWO

August 2013

Captain Bob Hamilton stared through the viewing glass at the young black man seated at the table inside the interview room. Detective Mark Chipman and Detective Jim Turner were with him but to the Captain’s trained eye, and what he had just heard through the intercom, his Detectives were just treading water, going through the motions of getting answers from a man they already knew was innocent.

Jerome Dickens was beyond distraught. Mark and Jim were trying to remain professional, but the Captain could see that they, too, were upset.

I didn’t do it, guys, Jerome said, not for the first time. I couldn’t kill her, not my Cheryl, not my baby. Please God, you have to believe me. Please God, please...

Against protocol, Jim reached out and laid a hand on Jerome’s shoulder. You know we have to ask you, man, you know it. You were the first one on the scene and the spouse or the partner is always the first suspect... He took his hand away and looked helplessly at Mark and then in the general direction of the one-way glass where he knew Captain Hamilton had to be. 'Jesus, Bob', his look pleaded, 'can’t this be enough?' He turned his attention back to Jerome. We all loved her, Jer, she was pretty special, but she was a cop and she was murdered on her front door step, in broad daylight, and you were the first to find her. Please, I know this is a terrible, terrible time for you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now but please, try and think, try and remember if you saw anything, even one tiny little detail. Anything at all. The sound of a car engine, a radio playing, was there any sign of struggle... anything.

The mention of Cheryl’s murder induced fresh sobbing from Jerome and he buried his face in his hands. Instead of trying to answer Jim’s request, he cried into his hands for a long time.

Jim and Mark sat quietly beside him, not hurrying him, not offering anything in the way of condolence or comfort, just letting him release some of his grief.

When he was finally able to get a hold of his emotions, at least for now, Jerome wiped his streaming cheeks and cast a bereft look at Jim and Mark. We were going to the Bahamas, you know, he said, his voice catching. Tomorrow. She called it our 'rehearsal honeymoon'. He smiled then, wide and bright, his eyes crinkling up at the corners in the way Cheryl had always loved. She really was something pretty special. You got that right, man. And then the tears came again but he willed them away. I didn’t kill her, I swear I didn’t. I couldn’t do what that monster did, not to her... not to anyone. Please catch whoever did this to her. Do it for her. Please.

Captain Hamilton put his finger on the intercom button. Turner, Chipman, he said, interrupting the interview.

Jim and Mark left the room but all three of them kept a careful eye on Jerome through the viewing glass. Left alone, he had resumed his grief-stricken sobbing, his shoulders shaking, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

Turn him loose, boys, the Captain said wearily. He’s had enough. It’s obvious he didn’t do it and we’re only prolonging his agony. Cheryl’s undergoing an autopsy even as we speak. Totally unnecessary if you ask me. We all know how she died. But he doesn’t need to know that. Make sure he gets a ride home and see if you can get a member of his family to stay with him. See if he wants us to contact her parents in Boston or help with the funeral arrangements. Tell him it will be an official police funeral, so let the Mayor know, too. He cut himself off and waved a hand in apology. Jim and Mark were seasoned veterans, they had witnessed countless murder victims, broken the news to endless families, he didn’t need to tell them the drill. Sorry, it’s just been a hell of a morning. That’s three cops in three months, all with the same knife wounds and all either on their front door step or inside their home. I hope to God this isn’t the start of something, but my gut is telling me we have a serial cop-killer on our hands.

Jim and Mark looked grimly at one another, still reeling from the brutal murder of one of their much-loved colleagues. It was small comfort they hadn’t known the previous two victims. The murders had started in June and every police officer in every affected precinct was working spare time and overtime, trying diligently to find a common thread between the murder victims. So far, nothing had been found. The first victim had been a forty-year-old happily married white woman, with two children and twenty years’ service under her belt. The second woman had been a twenty-three-year-old, white again, single and no children, with only six months service to brag about. And now there was Cheryl, black, single, twenty-six, five years on the force.

The first victim had lived all her life in Bathville, the second had moved with her parents when she had been 11 years old, from Seattle, Washington. They had no known similar interests or hobbies, no known arrests of the same perp, nothing that hinted at anything that could be a common bond.

Maybe with Cheryl’s likes and dislikes, foibles and shopping habits to add to the database, maybe they would finally start to see a pattern form. Maybe.

Captain Hamilton turned away to let Jim and Mark go back into the room to start the process in getting Jerome home. It didn’t look like it was going to be an easy task. Jerome was too upset to even walk, and Jim and Mark had to bolster him between the two of them just to get him down the hall and into the elevator.

The Captain could only imagine what the young man was going through, and he could only hope and pray that Cheryl’s murder was the last murder of policewomen.

It wasn’t the last, of course. Not even close.

CHAPTER THREE

March 2017

The white Ford Mustang sped along the two-lane highway at seventy miles an hour, in hot pursuit of a red Ford Taurus. The peace of this early Sunday morning in mid-March was broken by the wailing of sirens and squeal of tires as the Taurus led the Mustang a merry dance through mostly deserted streets. The driver was desperately trying to find a convenient route to Interstate 93, where he was certain he would be able to leave the Mustang standing.

Damned cops still on our tail, he announced unnecessarily to his passenger.

Think you can lose them? Came the nervous response.

Gonna die trying, brother. Hold on, six blocks down, we’re hanging a left and then, Snake, the Interstate’s ours. 

The occupants of the Mustang knew exactly where the Taurus was heading and, with a satisfied smirk at his partner, Detective Dave Andrews picked up the radio mike. Bravo Two to Central, we have an update on our position on that red Taurus we’ve been tailing. Massachusetts license plate 425 ATY, that’s 425 Alpha, Tango, Yankee. It is now six blocks from the I-93 on-ramp at Burlington Avenue. Where’s that back-up you promised us two miles ago?

On the way, Sarge, the dispatcher informed him. It’s a wonder you haven’t bumped into one another yet. We have units set to block off the ramp, repeat, units set to block off the ramp, those guys won’t get much further.

Dave hung up, his blues eyes glued to the Taurus as it weaved its way down the street. They were barely a car length behind and Dave was certain they were coming to a section of the road where it widened, which meant they would be able to pass the Taurus, get in front of it and block the way, hopefully with the help of their back up. You do know, Paul, that you just broke your promise to Krista, don’t you?

Paul Cameron took his eyes from the car in front of him just long enough to look at his friend in surprise. What promise?

Dave chuckled in amusement. The promise you made to her last week, remember? The one that involved you staying out of car chases or anything even remotely dangerous until after your Big Day.

Paul groaned comically. Oh, that promise. Sort of forgot about that, didn’t I? You going to tell her?

Unless you can make it worth - Dave cut off, his eyes opening wide in surprise. Look out!

 They had just begun to pull alongside the Taurus, but it had seemingly lost control trying to avoid an oncoming car.  The Taurus was struggling to get straight again but that wasn’t what made Dave cried out, it was the fact that a very familiar cherry red Nissan Sentra was approaching both cars from the opposite direction. It skidded to a sideways halt fifty yards up the road, forcing the Taurus to a screeching halt. Just in the nick of time, Paul skilfully brought his car to an angled stop slightly behind the Taurus.

Snake opened the passenger door, his gun already aimed at the Sentra, but Paul was behind him in a second and pressed the nozzle of his gun into Snake’s skull.

I wouldn’t, if I were you, Paul warned. Without looking up, he yelled over to Dave. You get the other one?

Already handcuffed, Dave announced gleefully. What’s keeping you? He signaled to the Sentra that the coast was clear and two female occupants got out. Cathy, Krista, how the hell are you this fine March morning? Krista, you’ll never guess what Paul’s just -

Paul cut him off with a warning glare. Shut ­up, Dave, he hissed and then fixed an innocent smile on his face when he saw Krista, the woman he would be marrying in exactly eight days’ time, coming towards him. Sweet face! he greeted cheerily. So nice to see you so soon after we parted company this morning. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?

Cathy and I are your back up, Krista said dryly, her expression completely blank. Care to tell me what you’re doing in this neck of the woods?

I was, er, I was...

Chasing the bad guys? she filled in for him. I should have known you couldn’t keep one tiny wee promise to me.

But Krista, sweetheart, it’s not it looks, Dave and I were just driving along, minding our own business, we truly were, when we saw these two guys coming out of a convenience store brandishing their guns. They were, seriously, so naturally, being the good little cops we are, we had to take up pursuit. Isn’t that right, Dave?

Krista looked expectantly at Dave and after another warning look from his friend, he nodded enthusiastically. That’s more or less how it happened, Kris. And then, for good measure, he added, I promise.

I see. Nice try, gentlemen, but next time, tell me a story I might believe. And now, Cathy and I, being the good little cops we are, we’re going to escort these two perps to that squad car that’s just pulled up without either one of you seemingly noticing.

Paul leaned back against his Mustang, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the ladies take the two very unhappy criminals away. God, she’s beautiful when she’s pissed, he said proudly to Dave.

Paul, she’s beautiful anyway. But I have to admit, that’s the closest I’ve ever seen her to getting angry with you.

She’s not really angry, maybe just a little annoyed at me for breaking a promise. Soon as she comes back over here, she’ll be her usual cheerful self. If she’s not, one look at my remorseful baby blues will do it. Paul seemed to know his fiancée pretty well because by the time she came over to him again, she was all smiles. He gave her a smoochy kiss. Do you want to go home for a while? he suggested.

Uh, it’s only eight o’clock in the morning.

So? He held his car door open invitingly, his eyes glinting wickedly.

Krista rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. You are too subtle, my love. Need I remind you that we have an appointment with Father Kirkpatrick at ten o’clock?

That gives us two hours then, doesn’t it?

True, but what you have in mind will only take five minutes, if I’m lucky, what are we going to do for the other hour and fifty-five minutes?

You are so cute, he stated dryly. Dave, Cathy, Krista and I have to take off for a while, we’ll see you at the precinct later. I’ll radio someone to come down for the Taurus.

In amusement they didn’t even try to conceal, Dave and Cathy watched their friends drive away in Krista’s Sentra. Sometimes I wonder which one’s worse than the other, he remarked.

You’re one to talk, Cathy scolded. You’re as insatiable as Paul is. With that indictment, she planted a very long, lingering kiss on his lips. And I love it. Tossing her mane of curly dark hair over her shoulder, she smiled sensuously at the man she adored, her stunning blue eyes dancing in good humor. Her usual cheerfulness had been somewhat absent of late, but Dave knew why, and he also knew she would be back to normal as soon as the wedding between their respective best friends was over. Cathy had been running herself ragged over the last month and a half, making as many preparations for the wedding as she possibly could, and simply because she wanted to. Krista had hardly had to do a thing, but Krista had also known Cathy wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She had trusted Cathy implicitly with the plans, and so had given Cathy her blessing and a free rein for everything that involved the wedding.

On the drive back to the station in the Mustang, Dave caught a smile on Cathy’s face on more than one occasion. What you smiling at? he asked casually.

Something I just recalled, something I said to Krista almost exactly a year ago when we arrived in the United States. I told her she would meet someone very quickly and get married, all within the span of a year. I wasn’t far wrong, was I?

Nope, but then, you’re an amazing woman. And what makes it even better, you’re my woman. Dave had been in love with Cathy practically from the first day he had met her.  He had tried to deny it for a long time, but she was a beautiful, fiery, headstrong, wildly independent woman and he hadn’t been able to deny his feelings for long. Their relationship had always been tempestuous, but only because they were similar in their personalities; he being as strong-willed and as stubborn as she was. It didn’t seem to matter to either of them, though, they were always secure in the knowledge that any differences of opinion they had were never serious and they were as much in love now as they had been from the start. He loved her, he would die for her and sometimes his intense feelings for her scared him, but he wouldn’t change what he had with her for the world.

They had just stopped for a traffic light and, as he turned to study her profile, he could see she was lost in thought again, thinking, no doubt, about the wedding.

I’ve been waiting all weekend for a call back from the florists, she said in irritation. If they haven’t called by tomorrow, I’m going to call them and give them a very loud piece of my mind.

Dave smiled fondly. Cathy, like Krista, came from Belfast, Northern Ireland and, although he was by now accustomed to their accent, sometimes he noticed it more than other times. Like now, because she was annoyed. Will you please relax, Cath? he asked lightly. You are more nervous about this wedding than Krista is.

That’s because Krista doesn’t seem to know how to get nervous, she said. And for just that moment, Cathy sounded so uncharacteristically envious of her friend, which made Dave laugh in amusement.

CHAPTER FOUR

A short while later, in Paul and Krista’s apartment, the betrothed couple lay sated in each other’s arms. They hadn’t even bothered to make it as far as the bedroom. As soon as they had come through the front door, Krista had led him into the living room and their lovemaking had taken place on the couch.

Lasted longer than five minutes, Paul stated, lazily tracing a circle with his fingertip on her upper arm.

Yeah, now we only have an hour and fifty minutes to kill. With a soft chuckle, she nuzzled into his neck and kissed him, her long dark hair fanning out over his chest. She turned her astonishing green eyes up to his blue ones and smiled. Will all the fun go out of our sex life when we get married? Or, worse, will all the sex go out of our life when we get married?

I highly doubt it. With a body like yours and with stamina like mine... He trailed off deliberately to block her anticipated punch on his arm. Watch it, I might have to start showing you who’s boss around here. They lay on in a contented silence for a few moments and then Paul, adapting as casual a tone as possible, said, Are you still sure you only want forty guests at our wedding?

Krista nodded. Yes, that’s all I want.

But I know a whole bunch of other people who would love to be invited.

She sat up, looking pensive, her eyes clouding over. Paul, we’ve talked about this loads of time, and the answer is still no.

We may have talked about it, but I still can’t understand why you’re so reluctant to have a few extra guests. On the day you become my wife, I want the whole world to see it happening. I want everybody to see how happy I am when I put that ring on your finger and make you mine.

No, Paul, I’m sorry, I just don’t want any more people. Forty guests are quite enough and as long as Dave and Cathy are there, I wouldn’t care if there was nobody else.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, wondering if it was just pre-wedding jitters she was having but he really didn’t think that was the case. Just as he was about to try and calm her down, he caught her looking over at a picture on the wall, a picture of somewhere in Belfast that he couldn’t remember the name of, and all of a sudden, it hit him exactly what her problem was. He sat up beside her and folded his arms protectively around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’ve just realized how insensitive I’ve been, and maybe more than a little bit selfish too.

Taken off guard, she looked at him in bewilderment. What are you talking about?

The whole guest list consists of people I know, people whom you have only met through me and I never stopped once to think about who you might want at our wedding. Is there anyone from home you would like to invite over? I might be able to scrape up enough money to fly a couple of people over if it’s what you want.

Krista shook her head slightly, still a little bit unsure of why he was saying this. How were you able to work all that out?

I don’t know, I just did. So, who would you want to come over? Is it too short a notice for them, do you think?

Paul, there’s nobody over home, really, nobody I would want to come anyway. I broke most ties a year ago when I left to come here. Cathy is my only close friend. Anyone else I know are just acquaintances and your friends are now my friends. But thank you, sincerely, for the offer. You are so very sweet.

Paul knew she was telling the truth, but he also knew she was still holding something back. Are you sure that’s all you want to tell me?

Yes, I... She trailed off, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him and knowing she shouldn’t keep this from him either. She sighed deeply. No, there’s more. I just wish my parents could be here to share our big day with us. The fact that they can never be here, or they can never meet you, is the only thing that’s putting a damper on everything. They’ve been dead for three years now, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss them any less, or don’t wish that they could meet the man I’m going to marry even for just one minute. They would have loved you, Paul. I know it. And you would have loved them.

I know, without a doubt, I would have loved them, he agreed earnestly, and I wish I could have met them, even if it was just to see what a real family is like. Growing up, you know I never really had a chance to experience a normal family life, what with my father always beating up on my sister, my mom and me. My father never did anything for me and he could be dead now for all I care. And after my mom killed herself, my sister made it quite clear she didn’t want anything to do with her baby brother anymore. No, I have my own life to live and I’m doing quite well without them, thank you very much.

It’s funny, isn’t it? I mean, I had the best parents in the whole wide world and I lost them when they were both still relatively young. Your father is probably still alive somewhere and you don’t want him anywhere near you.

Yeah, it does sound a bit absurd, but then, that’s families for you.

She reached out and gently traced the outline of his lips. It still never ceases to amaze me how you turned out to be such a nice person.

I guess I just got lucky on that score. After I left home, I threw myself into my career. I wanted to do the best I could do with my life and was determined not to turn out anything like my old man.

You’ve done a wonderful job already. But once you put that ring on my finger, you’re not going to start beating me around, are you?

Although he knew she was only joking, black humor though it was, he still looked at her cynically. You know I could never hit you, or any other woman for that matter. That’s only a loser’s game.

Krista smiled and snuggled in closer to him again. If you only said that just to try and talk me into a bigger wedding, I’m sorry, we’re still not having one.

Paul stroked her bare shoulder, knowing she had most definitely made up her mind and he would just have to accept it. Okay, okay, we’ll have it your way. Small wedding it is. Now, are you going to tell me what color your dress is?

She stared up at him in genuine horror, the way she always did when he asked her this question. No. I most certainly am not! she exclaimed.

Not even Cathy’s dress, then?

No! I simply cannot understand how you Americans prepare for your weddings. Where I come from, nobody knows what the dresses are going to be like until the bride arrives at the church.

But it hardly seems fair. You know what I’m wearing, and what Dave’s wearing too, for that matter.

Only because I helped you pick out the tuxedos. No, the only time you’ll know what we look like is when we walk up the aisle. Not a moment before.

Okay, boss, I was only kidding. Sheesh. With your silly superstitions, you would think you were Irish or something.

She punched him playfully on the arm. Don’t be a smarty pants, mister. However, seeing you’re so interested and so dying to know, I’m prepared to give you one tiny wee clue about the dress I’m going to be wearing. Do you think I look good in orange?

Orange? he repeated sceptically.

Orange, she repeated earnestly and innocently batted her eyelashes at him.

Wellllll, he said slowly, orange is good... for a wedding... I think.

Goody, then you’re not going to be disappointed. She held up her left hand and carefully examined her engagement ring. Paul had proudly presented it to her at Christmas and she had been in absolute awe when she had first seen the heart shaped diamond cluster, loving it all the more when she knew he had picked it out all by himself. He had been confident in her love for him when he had slipped the ring on her finger but had possessed just the right amount of nervousness too, and that had endeared him even more to her heart. Would I get much for this if I hocked it? she asked lightly.

He shrugged indifferently. Maybe a couple of bucks, if you took it to the right pawn shop. Just think, in another eight days, there’ll be another ring to go with it.

Great! Then I’ll be carrying a while five bucks worth on my finger.

Saucy brat, he said with a pretend sneer. Shut up or I’ll have to order you to start our honeymoon early, like right now early.

Ooo. Hard man, she said and laughed impishly at her own pun. Do you think you need the practice or something?

I always want the practice with you. He tilted her head up towards him and started to kiss her hungrily. It’s been so long since I got any, know what I mean?

Yeah, must be all of... ten minutes? She knew his banter had only been to take her mind away from her parents and she loved him all the more for caring so much about her. She returned his kiss and rolled on top of him. My, what a big boy you are, she said with a grin.

All the better to please you with, my love, he said, his eyes closed in the pleasure of having her right there, looking down at him in pure, unabashed lust.

Despite their romantic shenanigans, they weren’t late for their meeting with Father Kirkpatrick, but halfway through their time with him, Krista began to get a very uneasy feeling. The feeling got so intense, she only caught half of what the Father was saying to her, and how she managed to keep an interested expression on her face for the remainder of the fifteen-minute appointment was totally beyond her. Paul sensed she was preoccupied and took over the questioning and answering with the unsuspecting Father.  But, as soon as they left his office, Paul grabbed her arm to stop her from hurrying away.

What’s wrong, Kris? he demanded. You look as if you’re going to cry.

The worst thing has just occurred to me, she said in growing irritation. And Cathy’s going to kill me when she finds out what I’ve done - or, more to the point, not done. Her voice was rising steadily in her obvious panic and Paul couldn’t even begin to imagine what could be so terribly wrong.

Take a deep breath and try and calm down, baby, he soothed. Just tell me what’s going on that’s so bad it will warrant Cathy’s wrath.

Cathy’s been knocking herself out for our wedding, you know that. Doing practically everything for us. Making sure everything is arranged just so, and the one thing, the one thing I assured her I would take care of, I haven’t bothered my backside doing. Paul, you’ve got to take me to the station right now.  Or else!

Huh? Or else what?

Or else there might not be a wedding next week!

Krista, honey, I’m sure you’re over-reacting, just -

Paul! she cried shrilly. I’m being deadly serious here. I have no one to give me away on my wedding day. I haven’t asked anyone to give me away yet and now it may be too late! Oh my God, this is just awful, and Cathy is absolutely going to kill me!

And with that, she ran outside, obviously thinking the world had come to an untimely end.

CHAPTER FIVE

As it turned out, Krista really needn’t have worried about a thing. The only person she wanted to give her away was her boss and friend, Captain Bob Hamilton, and when she stood in his office a short while later, shuffling her feet and wringing her hands in embarrassment and stumbling over the words in her rush to get them out, she only stopped in mid-sentence when she realised he was looking over his desk at her in nothing short of amusement.

What’s so funny, Bob? she asked in bewilderment.

You are, my dear Krista, he said with a soft chuckle.

But I’m asking you to do me the honor of giving me away next week, and you think it’s funny? I don’t understand. Is it something you don’t want to do?

Ah, Detective Nolan, let me put you out of your misery before you pee your pants. You came in here a few minutes ago, all apologetic for supposedly leaving me out of your wedding plans and clearly wanting to make things right by asking me now when, really, there’s no need to ask me at all.

She gave a slight shake of her head. Huh? There’s not? Don’t you want to do it?

Her bewilderment only seemed to amuse him more but, seeing she was genuinely bordering on upset, he carefully suppressed a laugh and pulled the most serious expression he could. Of course, I want to. I was surprised, but highly flattered, when you asked me the first time.

The first time? Clearly not understanding, Krista stared at her boss incredulously. The first time when?

The captain leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his ample waistline. The first time in the wee small hours of the New Year. You don’t remember?

We were all at a party on New Year’s Eve, at your house. Cora had ABC on to watch the ball drop in Times Square. After midnight, we all... She trailed off, a dim memory beginning to shake itself awake. After midnight, we all seemed to get a wee bit ... umm...merry... and then... The memory wouldn’t take hold and, seeing her floundering, the captain filled in for her.

You were all more than a wee bit merry... You and Paul had just gotten engaged at Christmas, as I recall. Cora and I always have a party at New Year and, because of it being your and Cathy’s first New Year in your new country, and because of the good news about you and Paul, Cora and I wanted to be sure you were all invited for the double celebration. That New Year’s party is when you asked me if I would give you away. I knew you were...umm...feeling no pain when you asked, but I went ahead and verified it with Cathy the next day if you had meant it and she gave me an enthusiastic confirmation. She had me down getting fitted for a suit by the second week of January. So, as afore mentioned, there is no need to ask me again because not only have you already done so, I have already agreed and have the suit hanging in my closet to prove it.

Krista’s shoulders slumped in obvious relief. And then a huge grin spread over her face. I had myself all worried there, you know, she stated unnecessarily.

The captain returned the grin. I didn’t notice. He tipped her a wink. Now get out there and solve some crimes before I cancel all leave for the next month.

She gave him a mock salute and retreated to the office to give Paul the good news.

Relieved that her crisis was over, Paul left the office to join Dave in the target range and Cathy arrived shortly afterward.  Figuring it wouldn’t be fair to keep her in the dark, Krista filled her in on her faux pas. Cathy took it in her usual good-natured way. It’s all good, Kris, she said with a chuckle. If I’d known the captain hadn’t been asked yet, I would have taken care of it by now.

Krista nodded with an embarrassed roll of her eyes. Yeah, you have been so good with this whole thing, I wouldn’t be so relaxed about the whole wedding if you hadn’t been here to take care of the arrangements.

A twinkle appeared in Cathy’s eyes. So, the good Father didn’t grant you permission to get married in a ‘proper’ church?

Krista chuckled. That question was a running joke between the two of them. Although more commonplace nowadays, they were still one of those rare combinations from Northern Ireland where they were close friends, despite their differing religions. No, he didn’t, not that I even asked, considering I want to get your Protestant backside into a Chapel. 

Cathy tossed her mane of curls back over her shoulder, her eyes still twinkling. No way! I’ve decided I’m just going to stand outside in my bridesmaid dress until after the ceremony, then join you, Paul and Dave for the photographs.

And I’ve decided I’m going to get you inside even if I have to drag you in, kicking and screaming. Which I will do, too, if it comes to it. Krista chuckled again and shook her head warmly at her friend. Besides, it will soon be payback time for you.

What do you mean?

You getting me into a Protestant church on the day you marry Dave.

Don’t know if that will ever happen. He may not want to get married again considering what happened to his first marriage. We’ll see what happens when it happens.

Krista chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip for a few moments. I think he wants to ask you but he’s waiting to be sure you can put that episode with Andretti, a few months back, firmly behind you.

The twinkle snuffed out of Cathy’s eyes. I’m doing my best with that, you know I am. It’s just that...well... it’s hard rebuilding after a part of you has been destroyed. Every time I think I’m doing okay, a memory of my rape flashes into my head and poor Dave is left without sex for another few days until I’m over it again, or when he feels me stiffen when he puts his arm around me if we’re just sitting watching television, he will leave me be for a while. He’s so patient, though, I’ll give him that, and he still tries to accompany me to my counsellor’s sessions as often as he can, and I love him for his support. So... well, we’ll see if he asks me; and if he does, I think I’ll be able to give him my total commitment – Andretti memories or not.

You’re doing so well, Cathy. I am so proud of you for coming this far already. The only way for you and Dave is up from here on in.

 Cathy smiled again, chasing the shadows away from her eyes. Like I said, we’ll just have to wait and see. Now, about your hen night... or what do they call it here? Bachelorette party? Paul’s stag party is this coming Thursday, still want to have yours on the same night?

Krista nodded. Seeing you want to change the subject... sure, this Thursday works out well for everyone. I didn’t want a huge party, you know that, I really only wanted you, Captain Hamilton’s wife Cora, Mark and Jim’s wives and anyone else in the office who might want to attend. Chinese food first, then off to a club for drinks, right?

Right. It’s what you wanted. And no male strippers either, I promise.

Good job. Then it’s settled.

Can’t wait. It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to let our hair down. Here’s hoping no case will be dumped on us that will overtake our fun.

And, luckily for all involved, nothing came up that interfered with Krista and Paul’s last celebrations as single individuals.

CHAPTER SIX

The day after the bachelor and bachelorette parties, when they were all nursing massive hangovers, and which was also just three days before the impending nuptials, they learned through a live police broadcast that another policewoman had been killed inside her home. Headaches, somersaulting stomachs and tiredness were forgotten about as they listened in silence to the broadcast that wouldn’t be edited and released for public viewing for some time yet.

The unsolved murders of the previous five victims – three in 2013, one in early 2016 and one at the tail end of November 2016 had been an ongoing investigation for all Bathville precincts. They had still not been able to find one common thread that connected all the victims. No evidence at any crime scene or on either victim had hampered any progress in finding even one small shred of DNA but it was obvious the victims had all been murdered by the same person. The MO, the modus operandi, of the killer had been consistent – striking when the victim was about to enter her home, or was already inside, alone.

The fact the killer had known that each of his intended victims was home alone, or about to enter an empty house, was a matter of great concern to the police because it implied the victim was being watched and her schedule was known. It could be argued that the killer worked at one of the precincts, but that wouldn’t explain how he could have known where three of the previous five victims, who worked out of different precincts than the other two, were going to be at