Continuation of SHOCKED

Chapt.3
48 Hours
                   


                   "Hey Joe what cha got there?"

         Detective Joe Fisk rubbed his aching eyes and ran his fingers through what was left of his brown hair as he sat back.
                   
                             "Pictures taken out at the lake case"

         He had been on the force for thirty years and had seen this type of fiendishness only once before, the Valentine Murderer.

                   "Has to be the same guy, but how?"

                   "No damn way, we fried his ass years ago. I bet it was damn kid, you know he is nuts!"          Detective William 'Bill' Traconie stated flatly. He had been Joe's partner for 10 years and his friend forever. He had worked the Valentine case with him. He remembered the effect it had on Joe. As he looked at his fellow officer, he could still see traces of the youthful glow his buddy once had. After the investigation started to change into this no feeling, deeply troubled, hard assed, wrinkled old man that sat before him. It had messed with him too. He still had nightmares.

                   "You're probably right, or some copycat killer." Joe reasoned looking back at the photographs spread out on his desk.

                   "FRISK, TRACONIE! My office now!"  A booming voice came from the opposite side of the noisy squad room.                    
                   
                   "Shit, what now! "Mumbled Joe as he stood up retrieving his brown suit coat from the back of the old swivel chair he had been sitting in.

                   "What did you do now" Bill joked with him as they walked to the door and knocked.

                   "I told him you were gay and wanted a date with him." Joe quipped back with a smile. A grunt came from the other side for them to enter.

         Opening the door, they nodded to the big man that sat behind the even bigger desk scattered and heaped with papers and folders.

                   "Come on Mike" they over heard "Cut me a break, you know as soon as I have something I'll let you know, but until then keep this out of the paper. We don't want a mass hysteria on our hands" he stopped listening to the voice on the other end.

                   "I know its news, but give us at least a few days to work some leads, and I'll give you the exclusive. Ok then, thanks Mike." and with that he hung the phone up.

                   "Hot date cap?" Bill kidded the police chief as soon as the received hit its base.

                   "No smart ass, trying to give you and your partner some time to get that nut job in cuffs, what do you got." Captain Bass leaned forward hoping for good news.

                   "Well" Joe started, "the kid is in a catatonic state, he sits in a rubber room balled up in a corner repeating ' he's back', The doc don't know if he'll ever come out of it, other than that, not much." he finished with a sigh.

                   "Damn it guys, find me something! Go through the old case file, talk to old suspects, I want something in the next 48 hours." his face turning red as he yelled. To drive his point home he slammed his hand on his desk sending papers flying to the ground.
                   "But Capt." Bill stuttered.

                   ൸ hours Traconie get out."

         All they could do was turn around and leave.

                   "Ok, What now?" Bill asked his partner.

                   "I guess we pull the file. Check on the kid and see if anything has happened there, and go back to the lake, maybe we missed something."

                   "So start from scratch?"

                   "I guess so."

         Back at his desk, Joe rifled through some of the papers he had been taking noted on.

                   "Here's the number to the hospital, Ask for Dr. Rohm, and I'll pull the file."


         Bill took the yellow post it note and began punching numbers on his phone as Joe headed for the archive room.
                   
                   "Clarkesville Psychiatric Hospital, how may I direct your call?" answered a soft voice.

                   "Dr. Rohm's office please."

                   "One moment while I connect you." The line went quiet but for a few clicks.

                   "Dr. Rohm's Office, how nay I help you?" An older sounding lady answered.

                   "Dr. Rohm please this is Detective Traconie."

                   "One Moment."

         A male voice answered the phone after a few moments of silence. Bill placed the man around 50ish.

                   "Dr. Rohm Speaking, how may I help you Detective?"

                   "Well sir I called to check on a patient of yours, Jake Tisdale. Any improvements?"

                   "No, I'm Sorry to say. "

                   "Doc, do you think it is possible... do you think him..." Bill stammered.

         The doctor felt his blood pressure rising in his face.
                   "Do I think he did it, is that what you want to know?"

                   "Yea"

                   "No Detective I don't" Hans looked down at the open file he had been going over. "I have found no violent behavior; no temper tantrums nothing that would even suggest that he could commit such a terrible crime."

                   "Sorry Doc, I had to ask" Bill replied.

                   "Wasn't you the one that brought Jake in the first
time, after his mother and father was murdered." Hans asked checking his file.

                   "Yea my partner and I found him."

                   "I thought I remembered the name, If anything changes I'll let you know"

                   "Thanks doc" the phone fell silent.


                   
Chapter 4
A Hunch



The repetitive red and green timed explosions of light from the neon sign that hung across the busy street filled the dark room even through the closed mini-blinds. Joe tossed and turned with dreams of the past on the squeaky box springs as the air conditioner hummed a gentle lullaby.
 
         Awaking with a start from a nightmare, sitting straight up he caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his face.

                   "Damn" he thought to himself.

         Getting up from the bed, he walked into the kitchen. Turning on the single light that hung over the little stained table where a case file sat spread out he fixed a strong drink of Jack Daniels with a splash of coke, sat down, lit a cigarette from the pack that sat amongst the paperwork and took a long drag. Shuffling through the papers, picture, and notes, he leaned back and let his memory take over from there. He had never forgotten the victims names Jane Cook, Melba Jenkins, Debra Chow....and the Tisdales. They never found any connection between them. Mesinger had no pattern or motive.

                   "If that bastard hadn't left that kid alive, we may have never found him, but sooner or later all bad guys screw up" he smiled to himself.

         Finishing his cocktail he headed back to bed with that thought in his head 'bad guys always screw up' soon he was fast asleep.

         While having his second cup of coffee that morning still sporting his boxers, his cell phone rang.
                   
                   "Yea" he answered after retrieving it from the counter where he had left it the night before with his gun, badge and loose change.

                   "Where you at?" Joe asked from the other end.

                   "At home, its early." he replied after taking a sip of the coffee he had been drinking.

                   "Meet me at the trail head by the lake we need to go back over it."

                   "OK meets you there." Bill hung up the phone and went into the bedroom of his one bedroom apt to get dressed.

         Pulling his 95 cutlass into traffic, he pushed his old car for all she had trying to make up time. Luckily, there was little traffic on the interstate and he made the forty-five minute drive in no time. As he turned down the dirt road, he saw Joe leaning against his car parked arms folded.          

                   "About time you got here" Joe committed with a smile as Bill walked up.

                   "Yeah. Good morning to you too asshole, you ready?"

         They followed the crooked path through the thicket, crime scean tape marking the way that lead to the cabin. Both had their eyes on the ground trying not to miss anything.
Bill broke the silence "Find anything useful in the report?"

                   "Nope, same shit."

                   "Damn I was hoping for something"

                   "Me too"
         
         After almost two hours they reached the cabin and split up searching every inch of the surrounding area.  Close to noon, Joe stopped and leaned against a tree to give his eyes a break, lighting a cigarette he looked around trying to find his partner. Throwing the match to the ground, he looked down to step on it and something caught his eye. Bending down, he moved a few leaves.
                   " Hey Bill, come take a look at this." he yelled.