See Chapter One for disclaimers.
As Logan drove along the Interstate back into the city, she replayed the conversation she'd had with the Lieutenant. Thomas M. Peter's was the Chief Financial Officer of Langston Development, as well as the first executive chosen by the killer to single out within the Corporation. Logan had wracked her brain trying to piece together some connection between the murders and Langston Development. Hopefully, now that one of their own had been claimed, C.W. Langston would become more cooperative with her investigation.
She turned into the gated community in which Thomas Peters resided outside the city and saw the flashing lights of the police cars disrupting the tranquility of the exclusive neighborhood. Stopping at the gate, she displayed her badge as the ashen faced guard returned her greeting, and then drove down the well-manicured street, noticing the nearby residents, dressed only in robes, standing on their lawns stunned, as they watched as uniformed officers milling around Thomas Peters' million-dollar home.
Pulling in behind a police cruiser, she turned off the engine and sat for a moment, taking in her surroundings. It struck her as odd that someone could enter this well protected neighborhood unnoticed and as she continued to sit quietly, she noticed the motion detector lights on the side of the residence blink on as an officer broke the electric eye beam. Climbing down from the truck, she nodded to a uniformed officer as he held the yellow crime scene tape up for her to pass.
Stepping into the Foyer, Logan's first reaction was one of amazement; every nook and cranny exuded the wealth of its owner. Spotting her partner Phil (Dove) Dvorak and Aaron Rodger's in the far corner of the Living room, the detective made her way across the room as members of the CSI team, worked nearby.
She nodded as she approached her partner and noticed the dark circles under his eyes as well as the lines that creased his face from lack of sleep and too much stress. "Hey Dove, what ya got?"
Eyeing Logan with tired eyes, he tipped his head towards the stairs. "We got a dead rich guy, a shitload of blood, and vultures that call themselves the press, outside chomping at the bit to get the scoop for the early edition."
A crease centered Logan's forehead as she frowned at her partner and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Hey big guy, you okay?"
Massaging the back of his neck, Dove nodded giving Logan an apologetic smile. "Sorry Mac. Yeah, I'm just tired, same as you and frustrated that we can't seem to catch a break on this case. Come on, let's go upstairs, I wouldn't let them move the body until you got here and the M.E. is chomping at the bit to get back home to the wife that's half his age."
Snickering under her breath, Logan remembered the scandal that had shaken the Medical Examiner's office a couple of years prior. Harold Simon's had been the M.E. for Allegheny County for twenty-five years when he met and fell in love with the young widow of one of his cases. The M.E. had ignored all the rules of professional decorum as he became involved with the widow only four weeks after her husbands murder. The District Attorney had gone ballistic on hearing the information and his office had almost had to drop the case against the suspect when word got out of the woman and Simon's affair. Although too late to stop the rumor mill, Simon had removed himself from any involvement in the case and eventually the D.A. had prosecuted and won the case in trial. Many people within the Police Department and City Government felt Simon's should have resigned, however he had stuck through all the controversy and still held the office today, much to Logan's dismay.
Walking into the Master Bedroom, the first thing the detective noticed was the inordinate amount of blood splattered across the room. Dove stood silently beside her, accustomed to the methods his partner implemented when investigating a crime scene.
Logan never asked a lot of preliminary question, preferring to form her own opinions, and Dove watched as her eyes focused in the near corner of the room, then slowly panned around the perimeter, taking in every small detail of the room.
Once she had her bearings Logan slowly walked across the thick beige carpeting towards the body of Thomas Peters. Harold Simon's stepped aside, knowing Logan's predilection for working undisturbed, as the detective knelt beside the body, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans.
Logan began at the victim's head, her eyes focusing on the large indentation in the skull. Her examination continued towards Peter's face as she looked into the soulless eyes staring into space, noticing the now dried blood streaking his face. As her eyes moved lower, she saw that each finger had been broken in what had to be a long, drawn out struggle for control between the murderer and the victim. She paused as she absorbed the information, deciding the killer had been either excessively violent just for the hell of it or desperate for some information the man held. For the time being, she chose to believe the latter.
As her eyes followed the path of violence down Thomas Peter's naked torso, her stomach lurched at seeing the man's testicles severed from his body and lying between spread legs. Her assessment continued until her eyes fell upon the shattered patella's of his knees and further to the bare and broken feet lying at odd angles to the rest of his body. She remained kneeling as she assimilated the information before her, trying to get into the head of the killer that walked the streets of Pittsburgh. The only comforting thought she had, if one could call it comforting, was that she now had an idea of who his next victim would be. The real test was about to begin, finding the killer before he had a chance to find the Director of Human Resources, Phillip R Crafton.
Standing, Logan walked back towards Dove and raised her brows before tipping her head towards the door. Harold Simons called out to her as she was leaving the room. "Detective, I really need to get a move on here. Are you finished with the body?"
Hearing Dove's snicker, Logan shot a scowling look his way before turning back towards the M.E. "Yeah, sure Doc, you can bag him."
They walked the length of the hallway and down the stairs in silence as Logan led the way outside. She raked a hand through her hair as they cleared the doorway and took in a deep breath of fresh air. In all her years on the force, she had never gotten use to the sweet, but pungent smell of fresh human blood.
Quietly she led her partner to a nearby cruiser far away from the keen hearing of the reporters standing on the other side of the police line. Glancing into the crowd, she spotted Jennifer Phillips, her friend and sometimes confidant standing in the crowd. She knew Jen would come after her the minute she crossed the tape but for the moment, she had other things to worry about. "Dove, what are your thoughts on this victim thus far?"
Taking a moment to sort his thoughts, he took a looked around wondering if Logan was truly interested in his ideas or just testing him as she often did on cases. "From the looks of the body and the violence involved, I believe the killer is making a statement to C.W. Langston that he is really pissed. From the apparent injuries, the killer tortured the victim for quite some time and obviously thought Peters had information, whatever that may be, that he wanted." Looking at Logan, he saw her intense but thoughtful eyes upon him, taking in everything he was saying. "As for the testicles, who knows? Maybe it was a personal message."
Nodding, Logan absorbed her junior partners' opinion. "What about his next victim? Do you think he's going to follow the path back up to old man C.W. himself?"
Scratching his head, Dove gave Logan a questioning glance. "One would think so, but then again, he should know we'll have Phillip Crafton under constant surveillance."
Logan smiled at her partner before nodding her head in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. I'm putting my money on Lester Donovan being his next target. This guy is smart but he's beginning to screw up. His last intended victim survived and we have her and the only other person that can identify him under lock and key." Logan felt a knot beginning to form in her stomach as her next thought hit home. "He's either going after Donovan, or he's going to try to get to Susan Richardson or Dr. Cavanaugh while we run in the other direction."
Pushing off from the side of the car, Logan regarded her partner with a sympathetic look. "Why don't you check in with the hospital and make sure Ms. Richardson is alright, wake Donovan up, if he isn't already and put a uniform on him, and then go home and get some sleep while you still have a few hours before your next shift." Walking away before her partner could argue, she made a beeline to her truck hoping to avoid Jen for the time being."
Sitting in a leather wingback chair, C. W. Langston sipped on his third scotch since being disturbed a little after nine o'clock with the news of Thomas Peter's murder. He had immediately come to his office on Penn Avenue and called in his best political ally, Herbert Whittaker. Sitting across from him, and also on his third scotch Herbert Whittaker couldn't help but feel partially guilty for Thomas Peters death, If I hadn't buckled under C.W's demands and had allowed the police to question the Langston executives earlier, Peter's may still be alive, as well as several other innocent victims. The Mayor took a healthy swig from his glass and let the scotch go down slowly, burning away his cowardness along the way. "C.W. you know that avoiding the police is out of the question. There isn't anything else I can do to keep them from questioning all of you now that he has killed one of your own."
Scowling, Langston stood up and began pacing the floor, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "I need a little more time Herbert, and I'm expecting you to get it for me." Feeling not a twinge of guilt, C.W. Langston turned towards his friend. "Herbert, you have an election coming up soon; I would really hate to have to break in a new Mayor, because I kind of like you." To Langston, the term friend was just another way of describing a puppet in his high stakes game of life. As long as one played by C. W. Langston's rules, their lives and careers were safe and secure. However, if one decided not to follow Langston's directives, they often found themselves out on the streets looking for a new life far away from Pittsburgh and the Langston Power.
Langston's influence was far reaching and he had often seen powerful men and women reduced to floundering outcasts at the snap of his fingers. He had never had the desire to become involved in politics himself, but had found a much better, more economical way of getting what he wanted by either buying the politicians off or better yet, becoming privy to information that would destroy that particular politician if the said information ever reached the wrong hands. C.W. Langston much preferred the latter because it gave him so much more control over his puppets. Smiling he turned back towards the Mayor and was about to speak when a sharp knock came through the door. Walking over, he pulled the heavy oak door open and stared into the face he had seen a few days prior in the newspaper, Logan McGregor.
Tossing the medical journal aside, Madison gently pushed herself off the couch and padded into the kitchen to get more ice for her aching hip, regretting her decision not to go into the city to have it x-rayed. Femur watched apprehensively from the corner of the room as his mistress mumbled to herself, flinching each time she cast another book aside. As she eased her body back onto the couch, she spied Femur lying in the corner and instantly regretted her brooding behavior. Patting her lap, she whistled for the pup, and watched as his ears perked up and he trotted over, laying his head in her lap. Scratching his ears, she looked into his sad eyes and knew her conduct throughout the evening had frightened and confused him. She had presumed from his initial mannerisms after the accident that he had been abused as a puppy. Any loud or ill spoken word would send him running into the next room to find a safe haven. Speaking softly, she reassured him that everything was okay. "Baby boy, it's not you. I'm just one frustrated and hurting woman tonight."
Madison lay back on the ice pack and stroked Femurs head as she thought about the wonderful day she had spent with Logan McGregor. Femur watched her intently, often turning his head sideways as she talked to him. "What am I going to do about that woman, Femur? God knows, I don't need anyone complicating my life right now, especially a cop, for God's sake."
Whining, Femur jumped onto the couch and settled his body next to Madison's in his own attempt to provide her the same comfort she had given him during his recovery. Smiling at the loveable creature, the doctor continued her musing. So what is so bad about cops? Nothing! Surly, they aren't all like Loraine Osborne; at least Logan doesn't seem to be.
Deciding nothing would come of her contemplations, Madison returned to the kitchen, placed the ice pack in the freezer, and headed to bed. Sliding beneath the fresh sheets, she became aware of how much she already missed the warmth of Logan's body next to hers. Shutting out the light, she turned on her side and hugged the extra pillow to her chest in a weak attempt to find comfort in the large lonely bed.
Her slumber was restless as visions of Logan McGregor filled her dreams, long arms, warm lips and an even warmer body pressing urgently against hers. Pulled from the sensuous dream as an annoying noise filled the room, her first thoughts were of the detective's pager and she sat up quickly thinking the night had somehow played a cruel trick on her, that she was still here, in the house, with her.
Wincing at the sharp pain in her hip, she threw back to covers, realizing the beeping noise was actually the doorbell. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Madison couldn't imagine who would be at her door at six thirty on a Sunday morning. Slipping her arms into the robe, she padded down the hallway, Femur at her side, heading for the front door. She panicked as she looked through the peephole and saw Logan standing on her doorstep. Stepping towards the mirror in the foyer, she ran trembling fingers through her hair and straightened her robe, before opening the door to the very tired but beautiful detective. "Good morning."
Even through the savaging fatigue, Logan felt the now familiar warmth spread through her body, the same warmth she felt each time her eyes rested on the Doctor. "Good morning to you." Madison's face revealed her lack of sleep and, she instantly regretted her decision to bring the doctor breakfast. "I didn't mean to wake you, ummm...I was just in the neighborhood, and..."
Grabbing the detective's hand, Madison tugged Logan into the foyer pulled the woman into a warm embrace. "I was worried about you. Are you alright?"
Logan didn't speak for a moment, wanting...needing to feel the comfort of the Doctor's arms around her waist, wishing her hands were free to return the embrace. After a long moment, she leaned back slightly, and nodded. "I was worried about you too." After taking a good look at Madison's tired eyes, she tenderly kissed her forehead. "It doesn't look like you got much sleep."
Laughing, Madison, snagged the carrier of coffee out of Logan's hand and turned, heading for the kitchen, leaving the woman in the foyer with a confused look on her face. "What? What's so funny?"
Tossing a glance over her shoulder Madison shook her head. "I'm glad I don't need you to feed my ego Detective, and no, I didn't get much sleep." Removing the cups of hot coffee from the carrier, she handed one to Logan. "Actually, I was up most of the night, icing my ass and wishing I had taken you up on the offer to drive me to Mercy last night."
Raising an eyebrow at the doctor's admission, she took a long swallow of the coffee and willed the caffeine into the bloodstream. "I'm free until around one o'clock. Why don't you go get dressed and we'll do just that."
Unconsciously rubbing the sore muscle, Madison snarled at the detective. "It's much better now, thank you. What I'd really like to do is sit down and eat this wonderful breakfast with you and hear whatever you can tell me about this latest murder."
Closing her eyes, Logan knew the next few minutes would not be easy for either of them. "Okay, but first I want to ask a favor of you." The detective purposely looked away from the doctor, not wanting her eyes to betray her intentions.
"Okaaay." Madison eyed the woman suspiciously, remembering the last request the tall, dark detective had made of her.
Lifting the bag of food off the island, Logan walked to the table and began spreading out their breakfast, her back to the guarded doctor. Taking a deep breath, she decided an honest forthright approach might just convince the doctor to go along with her plan. "I'd like for you to come into the city and stay with me for the next few days."
The room was silent for a few moments, and Logan noticed Femur even sat pensively in the corner of the room. She was surprised when, at last Madison spoke the there was fear instead of anger in the doctor's voice. "You think he's coming after me don't you."
Raking a hand through her hair, Logan watched as Madison nervously sipped her coffee. "Yes, I think it's a good possibility." The detective quickly lessened the distance between them as the trembling in the blonde's hand became more pronounced. Taking the doctor in her arms, she held her close, wanting to provide some semblance of protection. They stood quietly for a few moments, each silently absorbing the strength and courage of the other.
With a single finger, Logan lifted the doctor's chin bringing the woman's eyes up to meet hers. "I have no idea what his next move will be, but I don't want to take any chances where you're concerned. I can protect Susan easily, while she's in the hospital, but you aren't as easy. "I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you." Her heart was racing, and blue eyes were pleading as she urged Madison to accept her request. "I've just found you Madi, and I'll be damned if anything is going to happen to prevent us having a chance to explore what we've found."
Madison's heart leapt as she listened to Logan's words, and couldn't remember why she had questioned her feeling the previous night. The frightened woman nodded her head, almost imperceptibly and stretched up to place a light kiss on the detective's lips. "Okay. I'll do it, but only on one condition."
Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Logan, smiled down into Madison's face and raising a questioning brow. "And the condition would be what, Dr. Cavanaugh?"
Suddenly embarrassed, Madison laid her head on Logan's chest. "I'll go but first, since you have a few hours off, you have to come upstairs with me to take a nap. You look like shit, Detective." The blonde frowned at the evil grin that crossed the detective's face and slapped her playfully on the arm. "No fooling around either, sport. I'm tired... you're tired and we are both sleeping."
Snarling at the woman, Logan attempted her best, hurt look. "You're no fun doctor."
Taking her protector by the hand, Madison began leading the woman through the house and up the stairs. "I never said I was a fun doctor, Detective, and right now the Doctor is prescribing rest for two sleep deprived women, now come on and play nice before I have to get mean and bring out my needles."
Logan followed along behind the woman and upon entering the bedroom for the second time in less than twenty-four hours; she again became aware of the personal touches the doctor had implemented around the room. She could scarcely control the heat rising in her body as she watched Madison shed her robe, revealing a lean muscular body, barely covered by blue satin boxers and a white t-shirt, cut off at the waist.
Madison quickly slid between the sheets and patted the mattress, smiling at ravenous look on Logan's face. "Remember you have to play nice Detective." She pulled the covers over her body and turned to set the alarm as the tall, seductive woman walked slowly towards the bed, shedding her clothes with each step.
Watching the woman undress, Madison could barely contain her own desires as the detective stripped the jeans over her legs and stood beside the bed clad only in her underwear. Closing her eyes, the struggling blonde stretched an arm across the bed, attempting to block out the seductive image of the muscular body she knew would be laying against hers in a few moments. Groaning lightly as Logan slid under the sheets beside her, the doctor pulled the warm, seductive body against hers, tucking the tired woman's head in the crook her neck.
Madison closed her arm around Logan as their bodies settled together in a perfect fit and then lay quietly as the detective snuggled deeper into her arms. Fatigue won over desire, claiming each of them in a matter of minutes and for the first time in days, the women slept soundly, knowing the other was nearby and safe from the evil that lurked just around the corner.
Continue to Part Fifteen of Code Blue
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