Page 6 of Cooper’s Passion

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Anita got the call when she’d finished her dinner at a small Italian restaurant not far from the Airbnb she’d moved into upon her arrival in San Francisco. The one-bedroom apartment was located on the edge of North Beach, and she’d been surprised that she’d been able to get something so cute on short notice.

She’d spent the past week wandering around the city, showing Janet Fillmore’s photo to shopkeepers and waiters in restaurants, while keeping her eyes out for a white van with a San Francisco Giants sticker. Unfortunately, there were too many white vans, and by now, the suspect had had plenty of time to disguise the plain white van she’d seen in Elko with decals on its sides to make it look different.

She’d also gone to the police department, shown her Elko Sheriff’s Department credentials to an officer and asked to be notified if a woman matching Janet Fillmore’s description was found in the city, dead or alive. She knew that the San Francisco Police Department had no obligation to work with her, since she wasn’t going through official channels, but she knew that they would contact her as a courtesy should Janet show up in San Francisco.

“Deputy Diaz? It’s Stan Drummond, SFPD.”

Anita’s heart pounded out of control. She’d both dreaded and hoped for this call. “Officer Drummond? Has she been found?”

“I’m not a hundred percent certain, but a couple of hours ago a woman matching your friend’s description was found dead in an alley in North Beach.”

“Oh my God.” A cold shiver ran down her spine. If this was Janet, then she was too late. “You said you’re not a hundred percent sure. Was there no ID?”

“That’s what I’ve been told. And worse: apparently, she was naked when she was found. I’m sorry, Deputy. Wish I could give you better news.”

Anita swallowed away the bile that rose inside her. “Can I come and identify her?”

“Ahm, yes, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Just go to the city morgue. I hope you have the stomach for it. I haven’t seen the body, but from what I’m told, she’s been drained of her blood.”

“Exsanguinated?”

Anita closed her eyes to push down the rising tears. But she couldn’t give in to her emotions right now. If the body was exsanguinated, the killer was almost certainly the same one who’d abducted and killed other women in Nevada, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, and California. She was on the right track. Just a little bit too late.

“Thanks, Officer Drummond. One more thing. Do you know where exactly she was found? I’d like to see the crime scene for myself.”

He sighed. “Ahm, I shouldn’t really tell you this, cause it’s all hush-hush, because we don’t want to create a panic in the city. So far, the press hasn’t gotten wind of it yet, but you’re law enforcement, so I don’t see the harm in it. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

“You take care now.”

There was a click in the line. A moment later, her cellphone buzzed with a message from Stan Drummond: the address where the body had been found. She tapped on it and opened the map app. The address was only a few blocks away from the restaurant. According to the app, walking there would take ten minutes.

Anita settled her bill and got up. In the restroom, she dug into her handbag and pulled out her gun and shoulder holster. She was glad now that her father hadn’t suspended her, or she would be without her gun. With it, she felt safer roaming the streets at night, particularly in a city she didn’t know very well. She had to be prepared for everything. Anita slipped the shoulder holster over her sweater, then slid the gun into it and donned her casual windbreaker. She adjusted her clothing, so the gun wasn’t visible, before she left the restaurant. Outside on the pavement, she oriented herself and memorized the route her cellphone app suggested. She put her cellphone into her jacket pocket, because she didn’t want to look like somebody who didn’t know her way around. It would make her look like easy prey. And the last thing she needed right now was a mugger distracting her from her mission.

It was damp and foggy, just like it had been during the day. May Gray the residents called this weather. Apparently, it was followed by June Gloom. Welcome to sunny California! She was glad that she’d packed jeans and T-shirts. On her first day in the city, she’d bought a couple of sweaters to keep the cold air at bay. The summer dress she’d packed was still in her suitcase and would remain there for her entire stay.

Now, in the darkness, the fog made the city look spooky. Instinctively, she shivered despite her sweater and jacket. Nevertheless, she was excited to be here, not just because she wanted to catch the serial killer she’d nicknamed Midnight Bleeder. There was something else here in San Francisco that made her want to explore the city more thoroughly. She loved the Victorian architecture, the narrow and steep streets, the old cable cars, the excellent restaurants, and the lively bars and clubs.

For a moment, she allowed herself to dream that she would leave small town life behind and live in the big city in relative anonymity. It would be an escape and maybe even the best solution. Perhaps leaving Nevada would give her closure and help her finally come to terms with her mother’s death—and she had to be dead, because were she still alive, she would have contacted her only daughter by now. Maybe a new city would give her a new start, a new life. Not that she could even dream of living in San Francisco. The real estate prices were through the roof, and even renting a one-bedroom apartment was out of her reach.

As she continued walking, she noticed that it got quieter around her. She was several blocks away from the main drag of North Beach, Columbus Avenue, where most of the restaurants and bars were located. But here, in the narrow streets that stretched up onto one of the many hills in San Francisco, she encountered nobody. An occasional car drove slowly past her, most likely searching for an elusive parking spot. Anita had left her own car in the parking spot assigned to the Airbnb, because she’d realized on her first day that finding a parking spot in San Francisco bordered on a miracle.

She pulled out her cellphone to check her GPS location. The dot showed that she’d arrived at her destination. She would have missed the alley, had she not looked at the map. The reason for it became clear instantly: the streetlamp at the entrance had burned out, and the alley itself was so narrow that only one car would be able to pass through. A few trash containers lined the side. Standing at the entrance to the dark alley, Anita looked up and noticed that the left side was flanked by what appeared to be a large apartment building. On the right side stood a commercial building without windows facing the alley. It was the perfect place to kill somebody.

Anita peered into the darkness, ready to pull her flashlight out of her handbag, when she perceived a movement in the distance. She made one step into the alley so she was in complete darkness, and whoever was farther back in the alley couldn’t see her. When she quickly glanced back to the street, she realized that there was no police tape anywhere to restrict access to the crime scene. Had forensics already processed the scene?

Anita remained as quiet as possible, while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The sound of footfalls reached her ears. Who was walking around in the alley? Had the killer come back, and was looking for something he might have lost when he’d killed his victim? It was possible. Or maybe he’d come back to relive his kill. Serial killers in particular enjoyed reliving their deeds over and over again. Had he maybe even watched the police as they arrived to process the scene and take away the body? A sick bastard like the Midnight Bleeder had most likely stuck around to watch.

Knowing she had to be careful, Anita pulled her gun from her shoulder holster and quietly edged along the wall deeper into the alley. She was glad that she’d opted for sneakers rather than her heavier boots, which would have alerted the person in the alley to her presence. When a light suddenly illuminated a part of the alley, she realized that somebody on the second or third floor of the apartment building to the left had switched on a light in a room facing the alley. The dim light source shone directly onto a tall man, who now looked up too.

She heard him murmur something to himself as he turned just a few degrees in her direction. It was enough for her to see his face and torso clearly.

Anita suppressed a curse, instinctively clasping her gun more tightly. The face was that of a man in his twenties or thirties—she’d never been very good at guessing a person’s age—and he was rather handsome. His face was clean-shaven, his chin chiseled, his cheekbones high, his dark hair ultra-short. There was a red rim around his irises, making them look blood-shot, but that could be an optical illusion. What was definitely not an optical illusion was the blood on his white shirt. She could clearly see red dots of various sizes on his collar and down to the third button of his shirt. She’d seen plenty of blood splatter patterns during her training at the police academy and while assisting at crime scenes to know what she was looking at. The pattern gracing this man’s shirt looked like it had been caused by somebody slashing a person’s artery. Slashing an artery to exsanguinate a woman. The woman who’d been found here only hours earlier.

This could mean only one thing: he was the killer, and he’d returned to the scene of the crime. It didn’t matter why. All that mattered was that he couldn’t be allowed to escape. She had to act before he disappeared again, and abducted and killed another woman. He had to be stopped at all costs. There was no time to wait for backup.

Anita lifted her gun and aimed it in the direction of the suspect.

“Police! Hands behind your head! Now!”