Spectre of the Storm

  It was raining hard.

The kind of rain that sent people running for any shelter they could find. The kind of rain that most people would avoid going out in. Peering out from windows and doorways a normal person would wait for it to let up before they ventured out. But Nick Spectre wasn’t your everyday normal person. He looked normal, average height, average build, average looks, but years of military training buried his humanity, and years in Special Forces made sure it was locked away. Now that he was a no longer a soldier he was trying to regain his humanity. No easy task being a homicide detective in the Chicago police department. It was easier to deal with death every day when there were no emotions to get in the way. Nights like this called for someone more than human. Distant street lights dimly illuminated a body crumpled in the alley. Nick didn’t need to turn him over. He knew it was Carlos Castillo, drug dealer, pimp and murderer. It looked like his past finally caught up with him. He had heard the three shots clearly. The sound of a .38 special was distinctive enough. He knew he didn’t have to feel for a pulse. The pool of blood forming beneath him was enough proof that he was no longer among the living. The smell of urine, garbage and vomit nearly turned his stomach. He had to push the images of the murder scene out of his head. The trail was still fresh and he wasn’t going to let a murderer get away, even if he had done him a favor. Rain pelted the back of his head as he stared down at the ground looking at the shoe prints leading away from the body. The footprints on the ground were a size 9 Nike with the tread nearly worn out. That meant the person was athletic but too poor to afford a new pair. The distance between footprints meant he was running scared. There were few people more dangerous than a frightened person with a gun. He had no evidence that drugs were involved but it was a strong possibility, that was most often the case.

 

  Nick had to move fast if he wanted to catch up but the rain wasn’t making it easy to follow the trail. The killer was making stupid mistakes. Running blindly, overturning trash cans and knocking over boxes. That told Nick that this was no pro that he was hunting. Since he had been made a detective and hit the streets he had seen too many kids go the wrong way. Part of his humanity was trying to resurface, after all, it was a drug dealer lying back in that alley with three .38 slugs in his chest. The weasel that was lying in a puddle of rain and blood had taken lives himself. Overdosed junkies, kids lying in pools of vomit from drugs laced with rat poison, hookers with their throats slit after he had raped and robbed them. The thought occurred to him that he should let this one go. Just go home and dry off. After all, someone had just saved Nick and the government a lot of trouble. Nick had been trying for months to gather enough evidence to send Castillo to prison for a very long time. But what would he do when he caught up with the killer? Would he arrest him or thank him?

 

The tracks were closer together now and that meant one of two things. Either the killer was getting tired or was feeling he was far enough away to be safe. After all, who would be crazy enough to follow them in this downpour? Suddenly a cat screamed and ran away from him making his heart skip a beat.



Nick came to a corner and took a cautious look around. No sense in surprising some scared kid with a gun and start a shootout.

  Seeing the door to an abandoned warehouse slightly ajar Nick felt certain that’s where his killer had gone to dry off. He crept up to the rusty metal door and slipped through without moving it. No sense taking a chance on alerting anyone of his presence by a creaking door. He moved out of the light of the open door and stood quietly listening. The only sound he could hear was his breathing and the rain pounding the metal roof. It was dark inside except for what little light was coming in from the windows high on the side walls. Nick was at a disadvantage not knowing the layout of the warehouse. Most likely his killer had run in here because he was familiar with it and felt safe. That much was to Nick’s advantage, feeling safe he would most likely drop his guard. But Nick was at no disadvantage in the dark. He felt as capable hunting in the dark as a leopard in the jungle.

 

He waited for a moment for his eyes to adjust while listening carefully. Off in the distance he could hear heavy breathing along with an occasional sob. He could use those sounds to move in on his suspect quickly and quietly. He could even smell the faint odor of gun powder mixed with blood. That was good and bad because it meant the suspect hadn’t ditched the gun. He would need the gun for evidence and now he wouldn’t have to retrace their steps in the rain to see where the killer had ditched it. But, that also meant he still had it with him and that made him dangerous, both to himself and to Nick. Nick didn’t fear death; after all he had faced it countless times before. But he wasn’t about to be taken out by some scared kid. Not after he had survived terrorists, snipers, guerillas and power crazed dictators.

 

Nick moved cautiously through the abandoned warehouse, carefully avoiding anything that would make noise and give his presence away. He could hear the sound of breathing getting closer but it was the sound of crying that made him stop and listen. This had to be the first time they had killed anyone. It was a sound you would never hear from someone who had killed before.

 

Coming around a corner Nick could see the silhouette of someone sitting on the floor with their knees drawn up and their head down. His full attention was on his suspect and he missed a piece of crumpled paper beneath his foot that made a slight crackling sound as he put his weight down. Nick knew he had let his guard down to make such a mistake. The back of his neck tingled as he knew what would happen next. A flash of light and a deafening roar of a gunshot echoed off the metal walls. The frightened teenager looked in disbelief, expecting to see a crumpled body on the floor, but instead seeing nothing but an empty hallway where a person had been standing before. Walking forward a few steps staring at the empty space where a body should be there was a voice from behind that said “Looking for something?” Just then Nick’s hand came down and grabbed the wrist holding the gun while he wrapped his other arm around the teen’s waist. Nick squeezed hard on the tendons in the young wrist to get the gun to drop to the floor. It took a moment but he soon heard a solid thud and he kicked the gun away. Now taking the wrist and moving it behind the teen’s back he moved his other arm up from the stomach to the neck and felt something that shocked him. He felt breasts. The girl tried to stomp on his toes, kicking and flailing until Nick picked her up off the ground and pulled up hard on her arm behind her back then swept her legs out from under her. They went down to the floor hard. When she stopped struggling he asked her, “I’m going to let you up Are you going to behave yourself? Because if you don’t we can do this all over again. Only the next time I won’t be gentle.”

 

She stood slowly and collected herself and then asked, “You’re the one aren’t you?” she asked as she wiped tears from her eyes, “The one they call the ‘spook’.”

“I’ve hear rumors that they call me the ‘ghost’” Nick retorted, “’Spook’ is slang for a North Vietnamese guerrilla.”

  He eyed the girl up and down, partly to see if she was carrying any more weapons and partly in disbelief. He had seen people of all shapes and sizes driven to murder but never a girl so young. Her long wet hair hung below a ball cap pulled down to her eyes, trying to disguise her identity. Her clothes, every bit as soaking wet as his, clung to her skin. He guessed her to be no more than sixteen, seventeen at the most. If he had seen her on the street he would never in his wildest dreams have thought she was a murderer.

“Some people say you ain’t even human the way you slip in and out unseen, unheard. If I hadn’t crumpled up all that paper and left it lying around I wouldn’t have heard you myself.”

  “I’m human enough.” Nick said as he showed her where her bullet had grazed his upper right arm, a slight trickle of blood staining his jacket.

  “Then how’d you slip around me without me seein’ you?”

  “Oh, that’s simple enough.” Nick replied. “Most people who aren’t used to firing a gun close their eyes just before they pull the trigger. You even turned your head. All I did was slip into that doorway and use the other door to come out behind you.”

  “But, I never even heard you movin’ around. You didn’t make no noise ‘til you was right behind me.” The girl said with a quizzical look on her face.

  “When you’ve spent as much time as I have in the jungle, with both two legged and four legged animals trying to kill you, then you learn to be quiet. Now, young lady, it’s my turn to ask a few questions.”

  “I ain’t answering no questions, I know my rights. Ain’t you supposed to be tellin’ me I got a right to remain silent or somethin’ like that?”

  “You just said that you know your rights, so why should I waste my time telling you?”

  “Aren’t you gonna arrest me?”

  “What makes you think you're not under arrest?”

  “ 'Cause you ain't cuffed me yet, ain't that what you cops do when you take somebody in?”

  “If you give me reason to I will. Right now I need some answers from you. What's your name?”

    “I ain't tellin' you nothin' cop.”



  She turned to run but Nick moved quickly. He swept her legs and the girl went sprawling to the floor. He moved in close, but not too close, since she could still be concealing a knife. The girl tore off her ball cap and threw it at him and for the first time Nick got a look at her face. She was a strikingly beautiful Hispanic girl, her long black hair cascading across her face and full red lips, her dark eyes flared with anger.

 

“You're not going anywhere young lady,” Nick half shouted, “and you're going to answer my questions. Either we can have a nice civilized chat here or I can cuff you, take you downtown and book you for murder. Now what will it be?”

 

  The girl put her face in her hands and began sobbing. Nick, for the first time in a long time, felt uncomfortable. He had confronted killers of all types but never one so young and never a girl. He took a few steps back and picked up the gun he had wrestled away from her moments ago. It was a snub nosed .38. Not surprising since almost anyone could pick one up on the street for a few bucks. He turned it over and as he expected, the serial number had been filed off. Opening the cylinders to check how many shots had been fired he got a surprise. All six bullets had been fired. He had heard three shots in the alley and one more in the warehouse, but where had the other two been fired? Nick walked back over to the girl as her sobbing had quieted to whimpering.

  “Now, let’s try this again,” Nick said as he tried to suppress his frustration. “What's your name?”



  The girl took a moment to compose herself and finally answered.

  “They call me Lou.”

  “Lou? Now that's hardly a name for a girl.”

  “I ain't no girl, I’m a woman, I'm fifteen years old!” Lou said as Nick saw the anger flare in her eyes again. My name's Louella but if you call me that I'll give you such a smack...” She raised her hand but Nick raised one eyebrow and his hand and she put hers back to her face to wipe a tear away.

  “Alright, Lou it is, now tell me Lou, what makes a young woman like you put three slugs into the chest of a scum bag like Carlos Castillo? I've been trying for six months to get enough evidence on him to put him away.”

  “He wasn’t a scumbag; he aspired to be a scumbag. I can't think of anybody that deserved it more?” 

  “No, come to think of it, I can't. But that's not a good enough answer. If we go around shooting all the people we think deserve it we'd wipe out half the city and most of the politicians.” Nick said with a wry smile.

 

  Lou broke out in a slight smile but then bit the end of her thumb as tears started streaming from her eyes. Nick waited patiently even though the flood of emotions made him uneasy.



“That scum bag killed my mother.” Lou managed to get the words out before she began sobbing again. In between sobs she managed to explain. She had been living in New York with her father. All she knew of her mother was a picture her dad carried in his wallet and that she lived in Chicago. They had no other family and he worked long hours as a beat cop. He didn't make much money but they managed to get by. Then one day he didn't come home. Some people in suits showed up and said he got shot and killed on some domestic violence call. They told her that she would have to go with them to get put in some home. She pretended to go into her bedroom to pack but she grabbed a couple hundred bucks her dad had in the house, went out the window and never looked back. Her mother was the only family she had so she came to Chicago to find her. She had been staying in the abandoned warehouse for a couple of months but finally found her mother. She had been working as a waitress but turned tricks for Castillo at night to make some extra money to go back to school. Now that her daughter had found her she was going to tell Castillo she was quitting. Lou had just left the apartment to get her things when she saw Castillo go in. She listened to them argue outside the door and heard two gun shots. Frightened, she ran to the stairwell and watched through a crack in the door as he left. She ran back in but it was too late. Her mother was already dead, the gun lying on the floor beside her. Probably so it would look like a suicide. She picked up the gun and followed Castillo through the rain to the alley to confront him. He laughed at her until she pulled out the gun and shot him then ran.

 

  Nick thought for a moment and knew what he had to do. He stuck the .38 in his belt and then ordered Lou to stand up. She looked at him sadly with her large dark eyes, tears beginning to well up in them again. She stood up and held her arms out for Nick to place handcuffs on them.

  “Put your arms down and take off that jacket.” Nick told her, trying to soften his voice.

  “What for? Ain't you gonna take me in?” Lou asked with a puzzled look on her face.

  “No, I'm not arresting you. But I can't have you running around town in a jacket covered in blood now can I? Take that one off and take mine and get out of here.”

  Lou took off the oversized jacket and handed it to Nick. She took Nick's jacket and put it on.

  “But what about the scumbag in the alley? How you gonna explain that?”

  “Aspiring scumbag,remember?” He corrected her, “and don't worry about that, I'll take care of it. I've been following him for months now and I've been on his case pretty hard. I'll just say that he lured me into the alley and took a shot at me. We wrestled over the gun and I shot him. You were never there. The best thing you can do is go find some friends you can stay with. Now get going before I change my mind.” Nick said trying to sound firm despite the pity he had for such a sad young woman.

  “But I got no family to go to. I don't know nobody in town. I got nowhere to go.” Lou pleaded.

  “Listen, I've got enough problems. I'm putting my ass in a sling as it is taking the wrap for this. Here, take this...” Nick said as he reached in his pocket and handed her a twenty dollar bill. 'Get a cab and take it to the YWCA. Get a room for the night. Don't stay in this dump. What you do after that isn't my problem.”

 

    Nick took one more look into her large dark eyes, tears streaming down her face, and turned to walk away. He walked out of the warehouse and noticed the rain had let up considerably. He took out his phone and called his captain. He told him the story and explained he had been chasing a witness who had fled the scene but got away. A tirade of screaming ensued from the other end of the line. Nick didn't even bother to hang up the phone, he just put it back into his pocket and walked back to the crime scene to meet with the coroners wagon that was no doubt on its way.



  Two hours passed and Nick was on his way home looking forward to five hours sleep before going back to work. An hour of being chewed out by Captain Moore until he finally lost his voice. With a promise to have a report on his desk first thing in the morning, a promise they both knew he wouldn't keep, he left. He slipped his key into the lock and walked into his apartment, but something wasn't right. A feeling that went down his spine told him he wasn't alone. Keeping his .45 in the holster but wrapping his hand around the handle he crept around looking for an intruder. Opening his bedroom door he saw a pile of clothes on the floor. Looking up he saw someone in his bed. The figure sat up and said, “I wanted to thank you for what you did for me tonight.”

 

    Lou let the sheet drop and with the light coming in from the window he could clearly see what he had felt earlier. With her long black hair cascading over her shoulders and the soft light reflecting off her honey colored skin, Nick doubted he had seen anything more beautiful. Nick put his hand up to block the view of her naked body and walked up to cover her again with the sheet.

  “There are plenty of ways to thank me but that's not one of them. Does the word `statutory’ mean anything to you?” Nick scolded her as the sheet fell down again. He grabbed it and wrapped it around her then picked her up to carry her out of the bedroom, tossing her onto the couch.

  “Now how in the blazes did you find out where I live and how did you get in?” Nick asked in a scolding tone.

  “You gave me your jacket; there was a cleaning stub in the pocket with your name and address on it. I got the super to let me in. I told him I was your niece. Besides, I want my jacket back. It's the only thing I have left of my dad's.”

  “You can have it back after I get it cleaned. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince them to let me keep it and not lock it up in the evidence room? Now you can stay here tonight but tomorrow you're going to the 'Y.'” Nick said not knowing whether to be angry or frustrated.

  “Alright, I'm sorry. You know, this place is a dump. Don't you ever clean? And can't you cook? Your freezer is full of TV dinners. You know, you need somebody to look after you,”

  “Haven't you caused me enough trouble for one night young lady?”

  “So, who's talking about trouble? I'm talking about thanking you, only in a different way. Look, I need a place to stay until I can get on my feet. You need someone to cook and clean for you. I took good care of my dad. You got an extra bed, although I almost didn't find it under all that mess.”

  “I'm still sorting things out from the move. Besides, I don't have a lot of spare time. I spend most of my time catching killers you know.”

  “Your super said you've been here over a year now. How long does it take to unpack?”

  Nick began pacing, he paced when he was uncomfortable, and this made him very uncomfortable. He finally shook a finger at her hand scolded, “You can stay tonight. We'll finish this discussion in the morning. I've gotta get some sleep.” With that he spun around and marched off to his bedroom.

  “How do you like your eggs?” Lou called out after him.

  “Over medium.” Nick answered and slammed his bedroom door behind him.



THE END