Nandita To Nandini
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A Saint And A Sinner Ch. 02 free porn video
Those words came to haunt Nick. There’d been no identification on either of the victims. They had managed to get fingerprints on victim one. She wasn’t in any system that Nick had available to him, including AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. So, whoever she was, she didn’t have a record and had never been fingerprinted.
It had been impossible to fingerprint victim two. The decomposition had been too devastating, animals had destroyed what the killer hadn’t.
Dental records weren’t going to be helpful. The only other thing that they could go by would be CODIS, or the Combined DNA Indexing system. For that to work, somebody would have had to report the girl missing, and then DNA had to be made available, either through hair, toothbrush, etc.
It wasn’t an impossibility, but he knew that getting DNA into CODIS was difficult due to a backlog that could take months if not years to unclog.
So he was stuck with two Jane Does, no eye witnesses at either crime scene, no evidence. No nothing.
Frustration flowed through Nick and he took a last deep drag off the cigarette he was smoking. So much for trying to quit this month he thought. It wasn’t going to happen. He dropped it onto the cement and ground it out with his foot. He had been sitting on the steps of the court house for the past twenty minutes, wasting time before he had to go talk to the sheriff who had demanded an update on his case, the only case that he was working right now and would be working until it was solved. At least that is what the sheriff had told him the night the second body had been found. Damn.
He pushed himself to his feet, took a swipe at the dark hair tumbling over his forehead and into his eyes, straightened the expensive silk tie that wanted to strangle him and took a deep breath. He tried to push some of the wrinkles out of the designer slacks that were a holdover from his days in LA and then gave up. He might as well get this over with.
The sheriff had been in meetings all morning at the courthouse. Nick had heard rumors that the man was going to run for Mayor of the city next term and was getting all of his little soldiers in gear. Another reason for him to jump on Nick. It doesn’t look good for the sheriff, who is trying to become Mayor to have a serial killer running around or dumping bodies in his county.
That could put a serious black mark on his record. Good Lord. Whatever happened to solving crimes so people would be safe, not for the political score keepers to tally another notch on who would make the best candidate?
Cynical, Nicky, really cynical.
Sheriff ‘Tank’ Tanner Williams was a short, round man who made up for his lack of stature with his mouth and with his attitude. Before deciding to throw his hat into the political ring, he had been a good sheriff, working hard right beside his deputies. Now he directed, he gave commands, he sat behind his desk and kept his nose out of anything that could possibly stain his reputation letting his men take the blame for him.
Cops got dirty, it was part of being a cop.
‘Nicky!’
The greeting was hale and hearty, a man who wanted it to be known that he kept in good connection with the people he worked with. Nick turned around and held out his hand, wishing he didn’t have to shake the sheriff’s hand. He had the type of grip that was supposed to come off as honest and well meaning. It fell short with Nick making him feel like he had his back slapped and stabbed at the same time. The man only shook hands with his deputies in public. In private, he sat behind his wide specially made desk, leaving them to stand before him like a student being called into the principal’s office.
‘So what do we got, Nicky?’ Williams rubbed his hands together like he was going to a big feast.
What do we got? The man was amazing, like he had done much in the way of police work on this case. When had he gone out and knocked on doors, woke people up at all hours and generally made the public think he was shit. Nick looked up and down the hallway and groaned. There was no privacy here, no way he was going to discuss his case, or his lack of case in this instance, here.
He could see ears perking up all up and down the hallway. The hazards of working in a small town, everyone knew what you were doing. And they all knew that the sheriff had given him this case with his fullest ‘confidence’.
‘Can we go somewhere more private, Sheriff?’ he asked quietly.
The sheriff glared at him, he liked to do his job in public. Even if it was dressing down his deputies. Made him look tough and no nonsense, the exact kind of presence he wanted to display on his platform for the upcoming mayoral campaign. He heaved a sigh, took Nick by the arm and led him into a deserted courtroom.
‘Okay, you got your privacy, Saint. What do you have?’ His voice, his inflection, his body language all changed when there wasn’t anyone to watch and admire him for the job he did.
‘Nothing.’
There it was, all in one word. That’s what this case was rounding down to. They had nothing.
The sheriff’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean nothing?’ he asked, outraged. ‘What am I paying you for?’
‘Well, for starters, we haven’t been able to identify either victim. That doesn’t mean that we won’t, just that we haven’t yet. There were no unusual trace elements on either body. The toxicology reports show nothing across the board. The autopsies showed that both victims were killed with the same type of knife, single edge wide blade, like a hunting knife. And the blade was about eight inches long. Victim one,’ he took out his notebook and scanned his carefully printed notes, ‘was stabbed at least thirty six times. Victim two was stabbed at least thirty times. Lack of flowing blood to the tissue prove that most of the stab wounds were done postmortem. It was very definitely rage induced.’
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. ‘We can’t tell if either victim was sexually assaulted, what damage the killer didn’t do was done by natural decomposition of the body which was accelerated by being left to lay in the sunlight.’
The sheriff looked like he was going to stroke out, face red and sweating, eyes squinted almost shut, one hand pressed up against his forehead. He didn’t say anything for almost a minute.
It was a long sixty seconds. Nick thought he was going to have to call the paramedics, was just getting ready to pull out his cell phone when the sheriff shook his head and looked at him again.
It was an amazing transformation, his face was back to its normal shade. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow and his upper lip and then smiled at Nick.
‘Nick,’ he began, his voice carefully modulated to the ‘I’m a good ole boy sheriff’ tone he used when he was getting ready to make a point he thought should be obvious to whatever poor schmuck he was talking to. ‘We need to do something about this. We haven’t had a murder in this county in forty years. I won’t have this unsolved. And I won’t have some perverted deviant running around killing little girls.’ His gaze pinned Nick to the spot, trying to be intimidating. It would have worked if Nicky hadn’t had other, more powerful men try it before. ‘You came here very highly recommended. I made a spot for you. I can unmake it.’
The message was unmistakable. Make the sheriff look good or else. Nicky almost snorted in disbelief. Murder, blackmail, intimidation. Every wonderful fucking thing that made the world go round.
‘Yes, sir.’ He hoped he was able to keep enough sarcasm out of those two little words to hide his true feelings.
At one time, oh, so many years ago, Nick had been an idealist, thinking that maybe he could make a difference. He had gone into law enforcement wanting to serve the people and put away the bad guys. He loved the feel of the badge, the importance of what it stood for. Until he was tau
ght differently.
It hadn’t taken long before he realized that the public only wanted to be served if it didn’t inconvenience them in any way. He had heard the word harassment more from potential witnesses then from suspects. Why was it when a police officer asked a few intimate questions, good citizens yelled harassment? Good being the operative word. Everyone had something to hide.
He left the courtroom before the sheriff, walking swiftly out of the court house into the beautiful summer day. Time to start back at square one.
Two hours later, he stared out the window of the tiny closet that served as his office. He hated square one more than he hated anything else in this world. The grown-up man-voice in his mind told him to sit up, quit his whining and get back to work. But he was tired of that voice. He would have liked to sweep the whole mess into the trashcan sitting next to his desk, grab his fishing pole and leave for the nearest fishing hole. He sighed heavily, looking at the heavily wooded area that his office backed up on, his mind on fishing and maybe a catnap next to the water.
A knock on his door brought him away from the feel of cool fresh water on his feet and a bottle of Bud in one hand, his fishing pole in the other.
‘Yeah?’ Damn did that sound irritable. Too bad that his ability to really give a shit had been lost about four hours ago.
The door pushed open.
Boy he looked like he’d been dragged through shit and then propped in a corner to dry. That was the first thought that went through Michelle’s head as she stood in the doorway. His hair was mussed and standing on end as if he had been pulling it out with his fists. There were dark shadows under his gorgeous blue eyes, lines etched deeply next to his mouth. His clothes were rumpled, expensive material horribly creased, suit coat thrown over the back of the cheap desk chair he sat in. He looked like he had slept in them, except his eyes were screaming out the truth that he hadn’t slept in a while.
But, even in his haggard condition, he was still too attractive. She felt that pull toward him that she did the first time she had seen him two weeks ago to the day, striding up to the front door of that ramshackled farmhouse. That had been her fourth day on the job. And her first murder scene. She still had trouble getting the image of that poor battered and tortured girl out of her head. Nobody should die that way.
Detective Nick Saint was impressive. She couldn’t deny that. He had walked through that door and every eye had turned to him. He gave orders and people jumped. He made even the lowliest officer seem important. Oh, God. She had a good case of hero worship and an overactive sex drive. And here she was, standing in his office with the intention of talking him into letting her play a part in his investigation. She had to be a masochist. There wasn’t any other reason for her to want to put herself through the tangled emotions working with him was destined to produce.
She cleared her throat, cursing her sudden overwhelming case of dry mouth.
‘Detective Saint…’ she started.
‘Nick,’ he automatically corrected, searching through the stacks of paper on his desk for a cigarette before giving up and finding a piece of Nicorette gum. Whoever thought this shit helped people to quit was a sadist. They should just attach it to the filters of cigarettes. That’d keep everyone from smoking.
Okay, so what was she doing here? He gave her his undivided attention, his eyes roaming over the tight uniform pants, the shirt whose buttons strained across her breasts. He hadn’t seen her since the night of the second body. She had delivered her reports when he wasn’t in his office, everything typed neatly and concisely delivered in correct police vernacular. She was very thorough in her questioning, very polite to those she had talked to.
And she was gorgeous. It hit him again, she was too classy to be wearing a uniform and carrying a gun. She looked like she should be wearing designer suits and writing briefs in some high priced law office in either New York or Washington, D.C.
He watched her squirm under his scrutiny for a second and realized she had said something to him that he had missed. Well that’s what you get for letting your libido take charge of the brain.
‘I’m sorry, Michelle, isn’t it?’ He used her first name to put her at ease and to show that he did remember her. At her nod, he continued. ‘I haven’t been to bed since yesterday morning, so I’ll hope you’ll forgive the mind blank. What did you want?’ Boy now he sounded like a real idiot. Maybe he should give in and take that fishing trip.
Michelle realized she was standing at attention and automatically slouched a little, trying to give the impression that she wasn’t uncomfortable with his scrutiny or the fact that he was Detective Nick Saint, Hot Shot Investigator. He was probably testing her, letting her think that what she said didn’t mean that much because she was just a deputy in uniform, didn’t have his stature. So she had to make herself look that much better.
‘I was, um,’ dammit all, say what you mean. ‘I wanted to know if there was a chance that I could help you with the murder case, sir.’
Concise. Tone wasn’t too bad, maybe a little breathless. God, why was she doing this to herself? She must be paying for sins from a past life
‘Nick,’ he corrected again. ‘Sir was my dad.’ Corny joke, Nick. But it got a ghost of a smile on those full lips. He nodded towards one of the two chairs that sat on the other side of his desk. Chairs that he had snatched out of one of the two briefing rooms. His office hadn’t come completely furnished, he smiled inwardly at the joke.
She sat, rigid despite his attempt at putting her at ease.
‘Why would you want to work on this case? Isn’t there enough work out on the streets to keep you busy?’ Not that he would mind working with her. He could use someone to be a sounding board, or even a new perspective. And she was good to look at. Down boy, he cautioned himself.
‘Well, sir,’ she licked her lips not noticing how his eyes beamed in on the tip of her tongue. She tried again. ‘I want to be a detective. I know that I have to put in the ‘time’. Earn my stripes.’
Nick smiled. It sounded like she had heard that enough. But it was true, he had ‘earned his stripes’ put in the hours and had a failed marriage to show for it. One other reason to get away from California.
‘But why this case? You must have heard all the rumors about how bad this one is. And that we have nothing to show for any of the hours put in.’
Okay, this was her chance to prove why she could be an asset to the case. ‘Well, sir, I figured that I couldn’t hurt anything and probably could be a big help. I come from a long line of police officers. I’ve listened to and talked through cases with my dad. I have a background in forensics and I would really like to help.’ There it was in a nut shell.
Nick sat back, picking up a letter opener that had at one time been used as a murder weapon in the first case he had worked as a homicide detective. Easy case, the wife had admitted to it. She’d been the victim of some serious spousal abuse. He had gone to court, testified to the abuse he had seen on her body, and to the belt still wrapped around the husband’s hand. She had gotten off and had given him the opener as a thank you. He had enjoyed her macabre sense of humor and had kept the grisly souvenir even if it was slightly morbid. He played with the thin blade now as he watched her with shrewd eyes.
She was right, she couldn’t hurt the case because there wasn’t a case to hurt. And it might be fun to have her around if only to stop her from calling him sir. He sat forward in his chair and reached for the phone, ignoring her gasp as his actions surprised her. He spoke up as he starting hitting buttons on the phone.
‘You know, this isn’t my call. I’ll have to run it by the Sheriff.’
He spoke into the phone before she could answer. ‘Hey Louise,’ he grinned into the phone. Best part about having to speak to the Sheriff was his secretary. She was big, round and tough, no one got by her to speak to the Sheriff unless she okay’d it. And she had a very short list of people that she was willing to okay. But she had a soft spot for Nick, he reminded her of her son. Something he used ruthlessly to his own advantage whenever he had to.
He listened for a moment. ‘Yeah, honey, I’ll take care of that for you. How bad’s the leak?’
Michelle could hear the secretary talking. She had talked to the venerable Louise before herself. The woman was terrifying, formidable was her middle name. And Nick was talking to her and had her eating out of his hands. The man was amazing.
‘No problem. This weekend good for you?’ He sat back and listened for a second. ‘No, don’t worry about it. Just fix me some of them cookies, the frosted ones?’ He listend for a second longer. ‘Yeah, if he has a second.’
It seemed like hours to Michelle before he spoke again. She wanted this so badly that she could barely breathe. Law enforcement had always been what she wanted to do but her mother was against it. Her wonderful mother who had raised her and her brother with an iron fist tempered with hugs, kisses and homemade chocolate fudge. Her mother had given one of her children to law enforcement and wanted Michelle to go into business, maybe help her with that aspect of her own company. So Michelle had gone to college for business, taking extra law enforcement classes as well. She had excelled at the police work, loved the physical part, and didn’t even blink at autopsies, dead bodies, blood and gore. It was in her blood.
While finishing up with her degree in criminal justice, she had worked with her mother, not letting on that she was still taking classes. She had graduated number two in her class. And when her parents found out, her dad had grinned like an idiot and her mother had fumed for a week. But she had come around when Michelle had promised to still help out at her flower shop.
Nick was speaking into the phone, drawing her away from her musings.
‘Yeah, Sheriff. She can’t hurt and I could use the extra man power.’
Silence.
‘Okay,’ Nick grinned at Michelle. She felt her heart flop over at the devastating effect just that smile had on her system. She was definitely going to need the barrier of professionalism to keep her feelings in line. And maybe a whip and chair. Being in his presence was sending little electric shocks through her nerve endings, something that had never happened to her before.
Nick hung up the phone.
‘Okay, Michelle.’ He sat forward and laced his fingers together letting his hands sit on top of a stack of photos showing different angles of the crime scene, the top one a close up of the victim’s face. It showed the missing ear, nose gone most likely chewed off, broken and missing teeth in a mouth permanently open in a scream of terror filled pain.
‘The sheriff said that I could use you on a probationary basis. You can sit in on interviews and help with the grunt work. But,’ and he raised a finger to make a point, ‘you are not to go off on your own and everything you do has to go through me.’ He smiled to take the bite off the words. ‘I’m putting my integrity on the line doing this. But it matters more to find out what happened to these victims and to bring closure and justice for the families.’
‘Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.’ On the outside she was calm professional. On the inside she was jumping up and down, doing cartwheels, and screaming for joy at the top of her lungs.
She thought she was a cool one, but Nick could see the excitement behind her eyes. Very pretty eyes, he thought. Not hazel, more gray/green specks on a light gray background, intelligent with just a hint of something that could be a sense of humor. He wondered if she would ever let him see it.
‘Okay, Michelle girl. Get out of that uniform and into some civilian wear and then get back here. I hope you’re ready to put in some long hours. You’re buying me lunch and we are going to work through this mess from square one.’ Which, looking at her, wasn’t such a bad place to be after all.
Marisol
- 19.09.2022
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