Deadly Pursuit Read online

  Deadly Pursuit

  by

  C. M. Sutter

  Copyright © 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book is a work of fiction by C.M. Sutter. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used solely for entertainment. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C.M. Sutter is a crime fiction writer who resides in Florida, although she is originally from California.

  She is a member of over fifty writing groups and book clubs. In addition to writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and dog, and you’ll often find her writing in airports and on planes as she flies from state to state on family visits.

  She is an art enthusiast and loves to create gourd birdhouses, pebble art, and handmade soaps. Gardening, bicycling, fishing, and traveling are a few of her favorite pastimes.

  C.M. Sutter

  http://cmsutter.com/

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  Deadly Pursuit: A Detective Jesse McCord Police Thriller, Book 3

  A sadistic scene unlike any that Homicide Detective Jesse McCord has ever witnessed unfolds on a park bench in front of him. Jesse knows this isn’t just another Chicago murder.

  Rage-filled killers are sending a disturbing message, and when a second and third body are discovered with the same vicious signature, police realize the victims aren’t random. Instead, each man is carefully chosen for a reason known only to the murderers. It doesn’t take long for the killers to raise the ante and add a cop to their list—and one in particular is on their radar. Once their plan is in motion, Jesse McCord is chosen, and they intend for him to be the next person to die.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 1

  The wheels protested as Gail turned another corner. The wagon carrying the dead body was heavy—much heavier than she’d expected. They’d already walked a good distance, zigzagging through dark alleys in an effort to err on the side of caution. She was exhausted, but they were almost at their destination and had only one more block to go. They needed to be long gone before the sun broke the horizon and people began their morning routines.

  “Come on, Mom, you’re moving way too slow!” Gail looked over her shoulder, snarled out a whisper, and grumbled. “This whole shock-value idea was yours, and I really don’t want to live out the rest of my life in a six-by-eight-foot prison cell. Now step up your pace! I have to be at work in three hours.”

  Janet Fremont followed a good fifteen feet behind her daughter and cursed. “I’m twenty years older than you, damn it. Have a little sympathy or maybe just slow down. Either way, stop yelling at me.”

  Gail pulled off the sidewalk and made sure she and the wagon were tucked under the cover of darkness and the convenient low-hanging branches of a willow tree.

  Janet’s sneakers squeaked on the concrete until she stopped inches from her daughter’s side and sucked in a few exhausted breaths.

  “Mom, seriously? You need to keep up since it’ll take both of us to put Mr. Smith on the bench. I can’t do this alone.”

  Janet eyed the wagon with a huff as she placed the man’s dangling and already discolored arm back under the blanket. “Okay, okay, I’ll try to keep up. I guess somebody has to make sure he doesn’t fall out of that damn wagon before we get to the park.”

  Chapter 2

  Our commander stormed into the bull pen and air jabbed his finger at each of us. “You four need to get out to Bixler Park right away. Jesse, take the lead and report back to me in an hour. I have a meeting with the chief that I can’t get out of.”

  I pushed back my chair, happy to get away from the mounting paperwork on my desk that morning and be outside working a case instead. “What’s going on?” I buckled my shoulder holster, threw on my sport jacket, then grabbed my cell phone and tucked it in my pocket. I looked at Mills, Johnson, and Potter, and they mirrored my movements.

  “Nothing good, that’s for damn sure. A mother took her toddler to the park a half hour ago with intentions of spending time at the playground but found a dead man sitting on a bench instead.”

  I shrugged. “So why us? Maybe the guy had a heart attack.”

  “Not likely. The man’s fingers were removed and his teeth were crushed according to the patrol units that arrived fifteen minutes ago.”

  Henry rubbed his brow. “Shit. Isn’t that park-and-play lot only a few miles from here?”

  I crossed the bull pen to the door. “Yep, and I know the way. Let’s go.”

  Lutz yelled out as we took to the stairs. “Don and the forensic boys are heading there in a few minutes, and don’t forget to call me with updates.”

  We arrived at the park five minutes later, Frank and I in one cruiser, and Henry and Shawn in the other. The entrances to the park were already blocked with yellow tape, and officers patrolled the sidewalk to keep looky-loos at bay. After Frank snugged the cruiser against the curb, I grabbed two pairs of gloves and jammed them in my pocket as I pushed open the passenger door. To our right, Tillson and Jefferson were talking to the woman who I assumed made the 911 call. She appeared distraught as she bounced a little girl in her arms. Frank and I headed their way
while Shawn and Henry took the opposite side of the park and spoke to the officers at that entrance. As we walked, I glimpsed a figure on a nearby bench, covered with a standard-issue blanket kept in the trunks of most of our patrol cars. That had to be our vic. I jerked my chin in his direction, and Frank nodded.

  I stuck out my hand as we approached Tillson and Jefferson. “What have we got, guys?”

  Tillson took the lead. “This is Caroline Davis, the woman who discovered the body.”

  “Ma’am.” I pushed aside my jacket and exposed the badge attached to my waistband. Mills did the same. “We’re Detectives McCord and Mills. Can you walk us through the course of events from this morning?”

  She looked at her squirming toddler. “Lilly is getting restless.”

  “Sorry, but it’s necessary, Mrs. Davis. Would you prefer talking over at the swing set? Maybe Lilly will be happier there.”

  “Okay, let’s try that.” A look of relief spread across her face as she placed the child in the stroller and headed toward the playground. “Thanks for understanding.”

  I asked for a second to speak with the officers. “You guys got a statement already? Her full name, address, phone number?”

  Tillson patted the notepad that peeked out from the top of his chest pocket. “We did, but she was pretty rattled.”

  Frank spoke up. “And rightfully so.” He looked down the street. “Don and Forensics should be rolling up any minute, so keep your eyes peeled for them.” He pointed toward Henry and Shawn. “If you guys need anything before we get back, talk to Johnson and Potter. We won’t be long.”

  We headed over to the playground, where Mrs. Davis had already placed Lilly in a child-secured swing. She gently pushed her back and forth, and the toddler seemed content. The interview could go forward.

  I led with the questions, and Frank took notes. “I realize these questions will seem repetitive to you, but as the detectives assigned to this case, we need more details than what the officers asked. Please bear with us.”

  “Okay.” She took her eyes off Lilly for a second while she addressed me. “Go ahead.”

  “What time did you arrive at the park, and from which direction did you come?”

  She pointed at the entrance where Henry and Shawn stood with the officers. “I live over there.”

  “And the time?”

  “I always leave my house at eight o’clock. By that time, my husband has left for work, Lilly has been fed, and then we come to the playground for an hour before I put her down for a morning nap.”

  “Was anyone else here when you arrived?”

  She furrowed her brows. “Other than the dead man, I didn’t see anyone in the immediate area, but a guy did jog by on the sidewalk. It seems that most moms show up around eight thirty.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s because my house is only a block and a half away. That was one of the reasons we bought in this neighborhood—plenty of parks.”

  “Understood.” I glanced at the bench, where the body still sat covered. “What path did you walk once you arrived?”

  “Well, I came in over there and usually walk directly to the playground. I noticed my sneaker was untied, so I pushed the stroller toward that bench.” She grimaced, and her eyes welled up with tears. “I mean, I saw an older gentleman sitting there, but I didn’t feel threatened or anything. As I got closer, I saw something was terribly wrong.” She coughed, and her voice caught in her throat, then she let out a grief-stricken sob. It was one I recognized from years of interviewing witnesses of horrific crimes, and it often took an hour or longer before the gravity of what they had seen actually hit them.

  “Take your time, Mrs. Davis.”

  She cleared her throat and shook her head as if trying to erase the image. “His hands were folded in his lap, but a blood pool was beneath him. I could see where the blood had stained his pants. I didn’t know if I should approach him or scream for help, but in that moment, I wasn’t sure he was dead until I moved closer. That’s when I noticed his mouth was bloody and his skin was a whitish gray. I pushed the stroller out to the sidewalk and called 911. I’ll admit, I was nearly hysterical. It was far from what I imagined a man asleep or dead from natural causes would look like on a park bench.”

  “And then what did you do after calling 911?”

  “I remained on the phone with the operator and stayed where I was until the officers arrived.”

  “Did anybody come into the park while you waited, or did you see anyone watching from a distance?”

  “I don’t know. I was terrified, especially for Lilly. I just wanted to go home.”

  I pulled a tissue from the supply I always kept in my pocket.

  She reached out and took it. “Thank you, Detective McCord.” She looked over at her daughter’s bobbing head. “Can we leave now? Lilly is falling asleep.”

  I handed her my card. “Yes, go ahead, and please call if you think of anything else. I’ll have an officer escort you home if you like.”

  The right side of her mouth lifted with signs of a slight smile. “Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Not a problem.” I called out to Tillson, who jogged over.

  “What can I help you with, Detective McCord?”

  “Escort Mrs. Davis and her daughter home. It’s less than two blocks away.”

  “Sure thing. Are you ready, ma’am?”

  “Yes.” With Lilly in the stroller, they exited the park and turned left.

  I let out a long sigh. “That couldn’t have been easy to see.” I jerked my chin toward the bench, where Jefferson had taken over the watch, then I turned to Frank. “Okay, partner, let’s take a look.”

  Chapter 3

  Frank and I stood to each side of the covered man, making sure our feet weren’t near the blood that had dripped between the slats and pooled beneath him. I tipped my head at Jefferson.

  “Go ahead and remove the blanket.”

  With the blanket taken away, Frank and I moved in closer to inspect the deceased man. His skin was a sickly gray color, and he had stiffened in place, as if he were sitting there on his own accord. Leaning forward, I looked at his mouth, which was halfway open. Blood, now dried, had covered his lips and followed a path down to his chin. I pulled my pen light from my pocket and shined it into his mouth. Ragged remnants of what once were teeth—deliberately bashed to make checking dental records impossible—were all that remained.

  “Damn.” I slipped on some gloves and handed Frank a pair to put on. I was about to look closer at what remained of the man’s hands when Don, Mike, and Danny approached us.

  “Better to leave this to them.” I backed away as we briefly explained to Don Lawry, our medical examiner, what Mrs. Davis had discovered an hour earlier.

  Don tipped his head toward Mike. “Go ahead and get some shots before I start my examination. I’ll be moving in my rolling stool and don’t want it to be in your way.”

  “Yep, got it.”

  Mike snapped a dozen photographs of the deceased. On his hands and knees, he took more pictures of the underside of the bench and also the blood pool. He zoomed in on the man’s mouth and clicked off three more shots. Careful not to disturb the way the man’s hands were folded, he caught images of them—minus the tips after the last knuckle of each finger. “Go ahead, Don. We’ll take the bench back to the lab with us after everything else is complete.”

  Danny added that they would scour the bushes for anything that could be considered evidence. Frank and I took spots against a large oak tree as Don moved in to do his field exam. I called out to Henry and Shawn. “See all those older apartments?” I pointed at every street that had buildings facing the park. “Have Patrol start the knock and talks at those apartments. Somebody may have seen something suspicious out their window. We’ll pitch in when we’re done here and make sure the officers keep track of everyone they talk to. I don’t want to re-interview people they’ve already spoken with.”

  “Got it.” Henry and Shawn gathered every
available officer except the ones at the entrances. They continued their foot patrol while keeping people away.

  I looked at Don. “Whatcha think?”

  “He’s definitely in rigor. Can’t straighten out his legs, and I’m not going to try forcing them. No visible signs of what caused his death, though. Snipped fingertips and broken teeth, although extremely painful, wouldn’t kill him. There’s more here than meets the eye, meaning a tox screen is in order.”

  “How long do you think he’s been out here?” Frank asked.

  “Two to three hours, I’d say. Probably before daybreak and before the rigor began stiffening his joints. He was definitely killed somewhere else and then positioned this way just before rigor kicked in. A deliberate act so his body would stiffen in that upright position as if he was an ordinary man sitting on a park bench.”

  “Until somebody took a closer look at him,” I said.

  “That’s right, until then.” Don looked over his shoulder at his assistant, Mark Nells. “Go ahead and bring the gurney in.”

  “Right away.”

  Don stood and folded the stool. “If there’s nothing more you need from me, I’d just as soon get the body back to my office and take care of that tox screen.”

  I nodded and looked at how the bench was mounted to the sidewalk. We would probably need somebody from the maintenance department of the county park system to come out and remove the bolts since we didn’t carry maintenance tools with us to crime scenes. I made the call and was told that someone should arrive within a few hours.

  “That gives us time to scour the park and look around for security cameras,” Henry said.

  “Sure, go ahead and get started on that. Frank and I will catch up as soon as Don leaves with the body, and I still have to update Lutz.” I stepped away and found a different bench to sit on while I called our commander.