Murderer's Mockery

Rachel sees an ambulance idling in the driveway when she pulls up to the Jenkins home. The bus's back door is open, but no one is inside. That's odd, she thinks, shutting off her car. A camera flash catches her eye. She looks over to find the forensics team processing the yard. The sergeant then notices several cruisers parked along the block. "What's going on?" She turns towards the house to find a detective securing the scene while a few rookies do their best to keep the onlookers from stepping on the lot. "Roy." She exclaims. She's reaching for the door when her husband pulls it opens. 

He leans in and says, "I need to warn you about what you are walking into before you step through the doors."

"You're scaring me, Joe." She climbs out of the car then looks toward the house again.

Taking Rachel's hands in his, the captain looks into his wife's hazel eyes. "Roy has multiple stab wounds in the legs, abdomen, and chest." 

"Who'd do that to him? Who?" she asks, gulping back the tears, her rage threatening to escape.

"He claims it was his son." Shifting his weight, Joe runs his fingers through his thinning hair and adds, "I didn't want you to have to see him this way. I didn't, but he insisted. Said he needs to say a few things to you before he." A tear streams down the captain's cheek when he adds. "Goes." Like Rachel, Roy has been a part of his life since he was young. Aggravated with himself for not holding it together, he swipes the moisture away. 

Pushing him aside, the sergeant darts into the house, gasping when she reaches the doorway. It's worse than what I imagined, she thinks, grabbing a hold of the door frame for support. The decrepit man is covered head to toe in blood. The once white sheets are now crimson, as is the surrounding floor. 

"Rachel?" Roy calls.

I have to be brave for him. Walking over, she takes his hand in hers and says, "I'm here."

"My sweet little Rachel." He smiles, strumming his shaky finger down the side of her face. "I wanted to tell you I love you with all of my heart." He gasps for air and adds. "You have always been like a daughter to me." He draws in a quick breath then continues, "You've brought me joy, so much hope, even when my world was crumbling down around me." He coughs up some red tinged phlegm. The parametric wipes it away. In a wheezy voice, he adds, "You made me want to live again, and for that I'm forever grateful."

She dries her face and then says, "Emma and I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for all the things you've done. You saw me for me and accepted me for who I am, making me believe in myself. Believe I had a reason, a purpose for being here. That I mattered."

He glances over at his son's picture on the mantel. Teary-eyed, he pats her hand and says, "At least I did one thing right."

"You did more than that, Roy, a lot more. This town wouldn't be what it is today if it wasn't for all the hard work you've put into it. And what about all the other lost children you saved? Their world changed forever because of you."

"I loved all of them?"

"I know you did, and they love you, too. And like me, they were thankful for having you in their lives."

He wipes the tears streaming down her cheek, and says, "I'm proud of you Rachel for all you are, all that you have become."

"I am what I am because of you." 

He smiles, coughs again, then adds, "That's sweet of you to say."

"It's the truth."

"You go out there and do what you do best. Bring my son to justice before he kills someone else." Roy gasps for much needed air. Looks over and whispers, "I love you, little Emma too. Don't you ever forget that alright."

"I won't. I promise," the sergeant cries. His hand goes flaccid, his chest remains still. 

Letting go, Rachel wipes her tears away, kisses his sweaty forehead, then sobs, "I love dad, and I'm going to do my best to make you proud." Turning, she darts through the door.

The detective turns to follow. The captain shakes his head and says, "Give her a minute, Jerry."

He watches her walk out to the porch and nods. "Right, boss."

Joe finds Rachel sitting on the steps a short while later. The wind has picked up, giving the evening a chilly feel. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close. She shivers against him. "Roy is in a better place." He glances towards the starry sky. "He isn't suffering anymore." 

"I know." She sniffles and says, "I'm going to miss him, Joe. I will miss his crooked smile and all of his jokes." She recalls the last one he told her, chuckles and adds, "Lame ones and all."

"Some were pretty bad." 

"But they made me laugh. Even on my worst days, he knew how to cheer me up."

"Me too."

"He did a lot for us, for Emma and me. I don't think we could've survived what we did if it weren't for him."

"He'll always be with you here, and in here." He points to her head and then to her heart.

"I know. I can't believe Jason would do what he did to his dad after all Roy did for him. And the wounds…" A horrid expression crosses her face. She gasps.

"What is it, Rachel?"

"His injuries."

"What about them?"

She springs to her feet, wipes the tears away and says, "The timeline doesn't fit."

Confused, Joe shakes his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Jason's death and Roy's lacerations. The two don't add up."

"What?"

"Jason died the morning before, right?"

"The Medical Examiner said it was somewhere between midnight and four."

"So we can assume the attack began hours before? Correct?"

"I'd imagine it'd take the killer at least a couple to do all he did."

"So that means he'd had to have stabbed his dad no later than ten the night before."

Joe runs his fingers through his graying hair as he calculates the time in his mind. "That sounds about right."

 "So, the wounds should have clotted, but yet the gashes were bleeding, like they're recently done."

"Maybe one of his medicines or his cancer caused the slower healing."

Rachel recalls what her nursing instructor said. "That's possible, I suppose. But I still want to talk to the ME and see what she thinks." 

 "There you are," Sharon says, stepping onto the porch. Walking over, she hugs the sergeant. "How are you holding up?"

"He's in a better place." 

"He is." She agrees.

Drying her face, Rachel asks, "Have you examined the body yet?"

"I have."

"How old would you say those wounds are?"

"They were recent. Why?"

"Is there any way the stabbings occurred a couple of days ago?"

Sharon shakes her head. "They would've formed a layer of fibrin over the lesions if he had."

"Would his condition, his cancer and chemotherapy, affect the healing process?"

"It would, but those lacerations were fresh, done within the last hour, I'd say."

"So, Jason couldn't have stabbed his father because he was already dead." 

"Then why did Roy claim what he did? And why did he tell you to stop him before he kills someone else?"

Rachel looks over at Sharon. "You're sure the man on the table is Jason Jenkins, correct?"

"We made a positive ID through DNA."

 "So maybe he has a boy we don't know about?" The captain says.

"I only remember him having one son growing up. And Roy mentioning anyone but him. So, the only way for that to be possible is if the wife was pregnant when she left. I'm going to do a little research to see what I can find." She's heading down the walk when her phone rings. "Bower." Putting the call on the speaker, she steps back onto the porch.

"Sergeant, it's Jeff. I just spoke to the girls, and they said they remember seeing a second man in the factory. I have a sketch artist with them now." 

"I want you to run it through the national data bank. Oh, and detective, take the picture out to our old captain, see if he can tell us anything and ask him to show it to a few cop buddies of his. The killer's records may have been erased from the system, but hopefully not from people's minds."

"Will do, Serge." She turns and says, "I might just solve that case yet." 

"You mean the one on your boyfriend?" They've been calling him her beau because he leaves gifts and only speaks to her.

Rachel glares at him. Joe laughs again. "You won't think you're so funny when you're sleeping on the couch tonight, bud," she says, poking him in the chest.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop," he smirks. Joe's phone rings as he follows her down the steps. "It's the station. Captain Bower. Another child has disappeared." He glances over at the sergeant, who nods. "We're on our way."