Love Means ...

Chapter 27

by Bridgid

Who was this man? He had no ID on him, no wallet but an officer did find a set of keys on top of one of the washers.

"Go find the car," Bud directed the uniformed officer as he watched the medics try to pound life into the body on the floor. Another officer picked through the clothes in the dryer, dropping each item into a separate evidence bag. She cringed seeing various sizes of children's clothing. The blood in them had turned to a sick shade of brown from the heat of the dryer and the smell that came from them was a putrid sweet stench of death and dryer sheet. She gagged a few times, went outside to throw up once but managed to compose herself to finish the job, Rookies!

Officer Jerry Gaughan knew the keys belonged to a ford. He found several on the block the laundry mat was on but the keys didn't fit a single one of them. Just as he rounded the corner he spotted a faded blue Escort with bald tires and a broken antenna. As luck would have it the keys fit and he quickly grabbed his lapel mic and called the detective.

Bud answered and hurried out of the place to join Gaughan. "Did you run the tag?"

"Not yet sir."

"What are you waiting for, Christ's sake. Do it, now."

Gaughan bristled but followed the order. The tag came back to a house in Woodland Hills. The owner was a William 'Bill' McHale and the request for records went out at once.

Bud had the feeling of impending doom as the crew moved to the residence. Something happened at the McHale house but what? It didn't take long to find out. Bud and officer Gaughan entered slicing the pie. The downstairs was eerily quiet; the only signs of life came from the wall full of family pictures. Bill McHale's eyes seemed to follow them as they searched the house.

The first trail of blood was found on the upstairs landing and it led to a small bedroom with a set of bunk beds in it. Toys and clothes were scattered on the floor but they were not what stood out. The boy in the top bunk couldn't have been more than nine years old. He lie face down on a blood soaked mattress which dripped down on the victim below. He was face up and it was unmistakable that some of the pictures on the wall were of this young lad. It was hard to tell if the crimson on his chest was a mix of his and the angel who lie above him.

"Jesus Christ." Gaughan covered his face with his hand. The nightmarish scene worried him. It was the kind that ended some cops careers.

Bud thought of the child that Lonnie was carrying as he screwed up his face in disgust. He knew right then and there that he didn't have it in him, what his father had. He'd never ride a wave that could make him do something like this, never. He watched Gaughan crumble and he growled the words, "Chew it back, pal."

They moved on to another room, a girls room but it was pristine. The bed was made; everything was in its place. A pink dust ruffle lighted against the floor and a large one eyed teddy bear sat propped against the pillow at the top of the princess bed.

"What d'ya think he did with her?" Gaughan asked. "There's a teenaged girl in the pictures. This must be her room?"

Bud didn't answer. He wasn't sure it was him who did it first off. He wasn't sure what went on here. All he knew was the man said they're all dead. He checked under the bed, in the closet and in every corner but there was no one in this room. Could she be the perp?

At the end of the hall was the master bedroom and the place looked like a scene from Helter Skelter. A woman's body lay in a heap on the floor with her Laura Ashley nightgown bunched up around her waist. Her legs were battered and bloody and her throat was slashed from ear to ear. The smell of fresh kill, metallic iron laden blood filled the air mixed with the scent of Jean Nate'. There were hand prints and splatters on the wall, as if she'd put up a hell of a fight with whoever did this.

Bud stepped carefully over the body to enter the room but he was stopped by a crackle and call on his radio.

"Central to SLO William 52-16"

"White, code one," Bud responded

"Regarding McHale, William T, we have an active warrant on the subject, sir. He's been UTL for three days. Officers talked to his wife yesterday."

"What's the warrant for, control?"

"Questioning in a homicide sir."

"Standby for a land line."

Bud looked at Gaughan. "Stay here. Don't let anyone else cross this line. You hear me?"

"No problem, chief."

The crime scene team arrived just as Bud got down the steps. "I want this place taped off. No one but mandatory personnel get in. Who's got a phone?"

"I do." An ambitions tech handed her courtesy of the city cell over to him. "Got three upstairs. That's what we found so far. One unaccounted for, female, maybe sixteen." He advised the tech before he called dispatch. The call was answered at once by the dispatcher he talked to.

"Thirty-two."

"Yeah, White. Whaddayagotforme, control?"

The dispatcher shuffled some papers around before she answered. "Chief, McHale is wanted in questioning for a zero one that occurred over in central. Apparently his daughter was molested by some skell and it left her pretty messed up. She's over at Gateway psych hospital. Seems her old man had been harassing a few of the men listed on a web site that exposed child sex offenders in a kind of vigilante way, one in particular named Clyde Dixon. He was accused of carnal knowledge and indecent behavior with a juvenile. He had sex with a sixteen year old girl. Dixon had placed seven calls to 911 about McHale harassing him. He said he feared for his life. The last call came five days ago and when officers arrived to investigate, Dixon was dead. Chief, according to the report he was ... mutilated."

"Mutilated how?" Bud asked.

"Castrated and they … um ...."

"I got ya. Listen, do a cross check for me. Pull every assault, call and homicide involving prior child molesters. Pay particular attention to any ones that have the same MO as that case. Okay?"

"I'm on the job."

Bud closed the phone. The wheels were turning now. He knew of one case that fit the MO and it made him draw a sigh of relief. It's not that he didn't believe Lonnie when she said she didn't kill the perp in the park but the shadow of doubt was there none the less. He had to make this airtight and the questions of what happened to the McHale family still remained. Did William kill his family then turn the gun on himself?

"Detective White." The voice of a uniformed officer turned him around.

"What is it?"

"There's a neighbor outside, a Mrs.Kellison. She said she wants to talk to someone about the noises she heard from here this morning."

"Take me to her." Bud followed the officer outside, under the yellow do not cross tape and up on the porch of the next door neighbors house. Before he introduced himself the woman called out to him.

"Are you the one in charge?"

"Detective Bud White, ma'am. You heard something this morning?"

"There was a hell of a ruckus coming from that house. There always was but this morning she was yelling at him about the cops coming over. I guess it had something to do with that poor daughter of theirs. Shame about her, and Mrs. McHale, she was also telling him it was his turn to do the laundry."

"Did you hear anything else?"

"Banging."

"What sort of banging?"

"You know, bang, bang, banging."

"I understand. Mrs. Kellison, would it be okay if we called you for an interview?"

She primped her hair and smiled as if this made her feel very important. "Well, I guess so. Is everyone alright over there?"

Bud shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kellison. They're all dead."

"Oh my God ... Oh my God ... dead?"

Bud put her in the hands of the uniformed cop. He wasn't up to consoling her at the moment. He pulled the tech's phone from his pocket and called Addley's residence. It was a staff member who answered the phone.

"Addley residence."

"Detective White for Miss Brannigan."

"Hold please."

A few moments passed before she picked up the phone.

"Hello ..."

"Hey, baby. How you doing?"

"Bud! I'm ... okay. How are you?"

"Can't talk long. I'm at work. Listen, I just wanted to tell you something. I just wanted to say ... I'm sorry."

"Sorry, for what?"

"I needed to say it, baby. It doesn't really matter. I gotta get back to work."

"Okay. I love you. See you later, maybe?"

"Yeah. See you later."

She was innocent and he'd prove it without a doubt. His next stop would be to HQ to get more details on McHale's warrant, and then he'd pay a visit to Gateway Psych to talk to the McHale girl. Maybe she could shed some light on what went on here. Of course then he'd have the distasteful job of telling the young Miss McHale that her family was all gone. It was the second worst part of a cop's job.