Lauren Read online

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  Lachesis Publishing

  www.lachesispublishing.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Laura Marie Henion

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Cop's Daughter 2:

  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

  Epilogue

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  Cop's Daughter 2:

  Lauren

  by

  Laura Marie Henion

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  www.lachesispublishing.com

  Published Internationally by Lachesis Publishing

  Kingston, Nova Scotia, B0P 1R0

  Copyright © 2008 Laura Marie Henion

  Exclusive cover © 2008 Laura Givens

  Inside artwork © 2008 Carole Spencer

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, Lachesis Publishing, is an infringement of the copyright law.

  A catalogue record for the print format of this title is available from the

  National Library of Canada

  ISBN 978-1-897562-04-8

  A catalogue record for the Ebook is available from the

  National Library of Canada

  multiple Ebook formats are available from

  www.lachesispublishing.com

  ISBN 978-1-897562-05-5

  Credit: Giovanna Lagana, editor

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Other Books by

  Laura Marie Henion

  Cops’ Daughter: Victoria

  Cops’ Daughter: Grace

  Cops’ Daughter: Diana

  Lillian's Love

  First One In, Last One Out

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate Cop's Daughter—The Series to my dad. Your expertise, experience, knowledge, and technical support are greatly appreciated. Your love and encouragement is immeasurable. I love you!

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Cop's Daughter 2:

  Lauren

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  The moment Lauren stepped outside her front door, the heat hit her in the face. It was as if she walked into a sauna. By the time she reached her vehicle, tiny droplets of perspiration formed on her brow.

  It was a hot, sticky summer morning. Nearly 85 degrees and it was only 6:00 a.m. Today would be a scorcher, as people congregated on the streets and the day went on.

  There was no way Lauren was going for a jog this morning. Instead, she headed to the workout club she belonged to and the first kickboxing class of the day. She brought her change of clothes to the location, in midtown. At this hour, the streets bustled with early morning risers on their way to work. Lauren drove along the busy streets, absorbing certain scenes around her. Some people stopped at the local coffee shops and newsstands, while others made their way to the subway stations and mass transit.

  When she arrived at the workout club, she saw a few other cops she knew. “Hey, Phelps, you made it! What a shocker,” the instructor yelled, as he got ready to start the class.

  The instructor was brutal, and he pushed each of them past their limit. He was also a martial arts expert and Marine. They didn't come any tougher than that. He even looked the part, with his short military haircut that revealed a few too many scars, scars from injuries that must have inflicted some long lasting effects. He seemed like a nice guy outside of class, but when the session began, he was the enemy.

  Glancing around, Lauren noticed a few others, some off-duty cops making their way inside the gym. She gave a nod or a quick smile in acknowledgement, as she retied the laces on her shoes.

  The “How are ya's” and “How ya doings?” made her feel good, and part of the group, despite the fact being a homicide detective caused her to miss quite a few classes. However, others were in the same boat.

  Lauren recalled one Saturday afternoon, when she attended another detective's family party. Jose Mendez and his wife, Maria, were celebrating the christening of their first child, a baby boy. Matt was there, as well as a bunch of other cops she knew. She knew some merely by their faces alone. As big as the department was, it was like being part of a large family. Everyone seemed to have each other's backs. It was a great feeling to be part of such an organization.

  "Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks. Where ya been?” Matt, a detective who worked in the Missing Persons division, asked as he stretched out.

  "I had a few homicides, and I couldn't fit it into the schedule,” she told him, and Matt smiled.

  "Well, you're here now. You working today?"

  "Yep. I'll leave from here."

  Tony yelled out teasingly, “You two finished talking back there? I would like to start the class."

  Matt nodded ‘yes.'

  The class went for a good hour and fifteen minutes. Lauren was glad she made it today, and she felt the burn.

  She'd taken a shower when she finished, then headed to work.

  It was the middle of the week. Lauren was happy about making it to the gym every day. It had even put her in a more positive mood, despite the humidity in the city.

  She was headed to work at the 53rd Precinct, when she got the call from dispatch.

  "Yeah, what do ya got?” she asked, as the dispatcher filled her in.

  Glancing out the window, she noticed the large groups of kids attempting to open the fire hydrant. It was barely 9:00 a.m.

  The homicide commander asked her to assist in a homicide another detective had already responded to. She drove the unmarked police car to the Bronx, near the Metro North Railroad Tracks and St. Mary's College.

  She was ready to begin her day, hoping to find a lead in the latest case she'd been working on. The case had actually made the eleven o'clock evening news at the beginning of last week. As usual, it disappeared as the media moved on to more eye-catching news, and stories that were sure to increase their audience numbers and ratings.

  Lauren had made a promise to herself to stay in the positive, upbeat mood despite her present drive to yet another homicide, and probably the start of another case. She got herself in the right frame of mind. This was life as a homicide detective in the city of New York.

  She drove down the side streets, then deeper into the territory that always seemed to harbor riffraff, bums, hookers, and drug dealers. Many abandoned and stripped vehicles sat scattered around the area. Garbage coated most of the roadway and dirt covered ground along the railway tracks. Empty metal garbage barrels sat in the same spots as they did five years ago, when she first had the opportunity to visit this side of the tracks.

  In the cold winter evenings, the homeless added garbage, or whatever they could find, to the barrels and lit them on fire for warmth. The
winter was brutal for those who lived on the streets. Lauren knew every time the weather forecasters called for frigid temperatures, there would be bodies to collect by the morning. Some of the first dead bodies she saw as a rookie cop were victims of the New York City winters.

  Lauren pulled the unmarked police car alongside the patrol cars. The thoughts of winter months almost made her forget about the current heat wave. She inhaled the air-conditioned coolness one more time and stepped out of the car. It was another crime scene, another wasted life. It would be her job to figure out what happened and who did it.

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  In an instant, the coldness penetrated against her back. Her whole body ached, and her eyelashes felt extremely heavy as she attempted to open them. Her body was numb, almost as if the sensations were separate from her flesh. She immediately noticed the sounds around her.

  She heard the music playing in the background and recognized the song, although she wasn't certain of the name.

  It was an old rock and roll song, popular but not really her kind of music.

  What a stupid thing to think about at this moment. She tried to focus on an object around her, something, anything that could help her correct her vision, but the room was dark, and she couldn't focus no matter how hard she tried.

  She smelled something strange. Was it roses? She tried to take in her surroundings, and felt like she floated.

  Her mind seemed to be playing tricks on her. Were they illusions?

  She tried hard to focus, but the strength, the control, just wasn't there.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  She rubbed her eyes, squinted, then widened them, trying her hardest to focus. She saw small figures, the size of children, lined up against what she assumed was the wall. Their hair was wild. She could tell from their shapes, as well as their shadows, against the wall.

  She wondered where she was and tried to remember how she got here. The last thing she recalled was the attractive guy at the bar. She couldn't remember his face. As she tried to remember, the pounding in her head increased.

  It was as if she had a bad hangover or the beginning of a horrid stomach virus. Her stomach continued to churn, the nausea increasing as she attempted to regain her composure.

  Her mind spun out of control. She wanted to hurl.

  "That damn music. Stop playing that damn music!” she cried out, but there was no response.

  The song continued to play over and over again.

  "You're mine ... and we belong together ... yes, we belong together ... for eternity ... eternal ... eternity."

  She wanted to cover her ears with her hands, but as she tried to move them, she seemed to be doing it in slow motion.

  Suddenly, there was a bright light illuminating the dark room.

  She tried to adjust her eyes to the light. As the door opened, a tall, thin figure stood there watching her.

  Her heart pounded inside her chest. Her body shook—the fear enormous inside. She blinked her eyes once, twice. Was he moving toward her?

  He rocked back and forth.

  No.

  He danced as he made his way closer to her.

  The small child-sized figures she couldn't make out earlier were now clear as day.

  They were anatomically correct dolls. Females with long, wild hair, set up in sexual and compromising positions, or just chained against the wall. Some wore full-leather get ups, with links of chains that attached to their waists and wrists with handcuffs. She shook her head, in both fear and confusion.

  He hummed to the music then began singing the words.

  "You're mine ... and we belong together ... yes, we belong together ... for eternity ... eternal ... eternity."

  * * * *

  Lauren Phelps stepped out of the car, only momentarily paralyzed by the excessive heat. It seemed worse down here under the tracks, surrounded by garbage. An instant later, her phone vibrated against the front pocket of her dark dress pants. The small sensation traveled down her thigh right into her short, black ankle boots. She was shocked she actually enjoyed it.

  I need a social life. She checked the number.

  Her dad was calling. She'd have to get back to him later. Right now, the wicked stench of a dead body that lay sprawled out in a ravine, by the side of the train tracks, required her full attention.

  All who hung out down here were the low lifes of society, at night, and young hoodlum kids looking for some kind of adventure, when they cut school.

  Lauren glanced over at the two twelve-year-old boys, who now sat on the ground near a patrol car.

  They didn't look too good.

  They'd been the ‘lucky ones’ who found the body, and, according to one of the patrol officers, they'd been sporadically throwing up their insides for the last fifteen minutes.

  Maybe this would be enough to get them to stay in school? Secure a better future, and maybe you won't end up like this guy.

  Lauren laughed, as Tom the lieutenant took the opportunity to scare the crap out of the kids, by saying something similar to what Lauren just thought.

  "Hey, you, listen to me and listen to me good. Stay in freaking school or you could wind up like this guy. Got it?” he stated in his toughest voice, with the meanest look on his face.

  The boys looked convinced right now, but she knew better than anyone all it took was hanging out with the wrong people, making the wrong friends, or just one stupid decision, to change their minds.

  She silently prayed those two kids would never forget today.

  Tom turned around. Lauren watched him, smirking, already anticipating the response to her presence.

  "Hey, Phelps, this must be my lucky day. Out of all the detectives to get this one, they send you. Someone is watching over me.” Tom held his hand over his heart and laid on the drama well.

  Standing in the dreadful heat made her antsy. It felt hotter, and it had to be pushing 90 degrees by now. She couldn't help but miss the AC, back in the unmarked patrol car.

  Smiling at the lieutenant, she winked, then followed him to the body.

  Lieutenant McNulty was a big man and a little overweight, but it suited him. He was bald, tough, and covered with multiple tattoos. A few of them showed through his perspiration-soaked white dress shirt.

  He looked at her as they walked side by side, still expressing his gratefulness the commander sent Lauren.

  "I'm honored ... I'm truly, truly honored.” He bumped her shoulder with the side of his arm.

  Lauren laughed. “I was in the area, that's all, but I'm glad you're so happy, Lieu. So what do you need from me?” A few patrol officers eyed her while securing the crime scene.

  Tom moved closer, and then took out his handkerchief to wipe his brow.

  "Let's see, how about you and me, candlelight, dinner at my place?"

  "How original,” Lauren barely responded. She was used to this game she played with Tom. He had taken her under his wing about five years ago, after her promotion to Detective. Homicide investigation was part of the normal conversation in her house when she was growing up, especially since her father was a local detective in River Point, upstate. He was good at his job and had learned from the best himself.

  Even Lauren had the opportunity to meet the famous ‘Murder Cop’ from N.Y.C. Geberth was his name, and she attended and completed numerous of his seminar courses.

  Tom smiled. He probably noticed how serious Lauren was as she observed the crime scene.

  She watched what everyone did, and made sure no one made a mistake.

  "Hey, gorgeous, this is all yours. I'll just supervise a bit on this one, seeing how I'm the lieutenant and all. Don't worry. Everyone's doing what they're supposed to be doing."

  "Sorry, Lieu, force of habit, I guess. So it looks like he's been here for a few hours, throat's been slit, he's fully clothed, and from here, it doesn't look like any other injuries have occurred. So what do you think?"

  "He's a bum, roaming the streets. He probably just pissed another bum
off, and you know how it is down here, kid, life's a bitch."

  "And then you die."

  "Exactly. But, because I can see that look in your eyes, we're going to have the coroner do a full autopsy and cover all our bases."

  "Good, because things aren't always as they appear,” Lauren stated, and Tom smiled.

  "You sure I can't talk you into that dinner?” This time, a few patrol officers who stood around grunted as if he should just give up.

  Lauren laughed, then gave him a light punch in the arm.

  "You mean a lot to me, Tom, you know that? So why screw things up? Besides, I already know all your annoying habits, and more importantly your track record with women."

  Tom put his hands up in defense. “What record?” He tried to say it with a straight face, but couldn't. Instead, he laughed.

  "I know you really well, too, Lauren. Work, work, work, and always having something to prove."

  A patrol officer interrupted their conversation. “Hey, Lieutenant McNulty, we got this guy over here who says he saw someone talking to the victim last night."

  Both Lauren and Tom glanced toward the guy, a fellow bum who looked like he just finished a bottle of whiskey.

  Lauren memorized his appearance.

  Smudges of dirt and grime scattered around the darkness of his eyes, his cheeks, and neck. His shoulder-length hair looked as if it had been combed with a pork chop, and his clothing was more appropriate for winter months.

  Like most homeless people, he was more than likely afraid to use the free services of the homeless shelters. He was safer on the streets.

  As soon as he started talking, Lauren smelled the alcohol on his breath. It filled the air, which was so thick, one could cut through it with a knife. Sandwiched in-between was the stench of his body odor, due to the lack of any type of hygiene whatsoever.

  Lauren wiped the small drops of perspiration from her forehead, hoping he didn't come too close. The thought of catching another smell formed a small lump in her throat. Normally, such things didn't bother her, but for some reason, this guy did.