Page 41 of Unhallowed Murder
Lieutenant Veronica Woods sat at the back of a federal courthouse, despite the fact she didn’t need to be present. She’d testified a few days before, but today was the sentencing. She was usually okay with finding out after the fact, but she needed to see and hear the conclusion. She needed to see Griffin led away, needed to see the look in his eyes when he heard that he would never again be a free man.
She wasn’t terribly surprised when Agent Graham sat beside her. He’d had to hand the case off to a serial killer unit, but he was emotionally invested in it, too.
“Where’s your team?” Graham asked.
“Where’s yours?”
He shrugged. “Working on leads for other cases, which is where I should be, but I needed to see this.”
“Same answer.”
“Yeah.”
Ramirez and Flores had already been sentenced. Ramirez had received eighteen months for his part in the bribery scheme, though Ronnie expected he’d be released close to the six-month mark if he kept his nose clean, since the judge was clear he was eligible for parole. Flores, however, was going to be in a cage until he was an old man, because the judge had been just as clear that he wouldnotbe eligible for parole for at least forty years. Flores received eight years for attempting to bribe a federal employee, with another six years added on because the bribe included drug trafficking. He got another twenty years for rape, and then twelve more years for threatening gang rape if she didn’t stop talking to law enforcement. Threatening furthergreat bodily harmduring the commission of an assault carries a longer sentence then merely offering money as a bribe. With the addition of a few smaller offenses, Flores’ total sentence ended up being a few months shy of fifty-eight years. He was twenty-four at sentencing, and he’d be inside until he was atleastsixty-four years old.
“Tigre’s the only one we couldn’t make charges stick to. The old man should call himself Teflon.” He’d been arrested more times than she’d wanted to count, and had never plea bargained or been found guilty.
“You didn’t show up for Flores’ sentencing,” he noted.
She shrugged. “Flores is most certainly a criminal who deserves every year the judge gave him, but he isn’t…” She looked away, unwilling to let Graham see whatever emotions she might let slip out. “I rarely use the word evil, but Griffin…” She shuddered.
“You recognized while he was confessing that his actions didn’t follow that of most serial killers,” Graham noted. “Only a few of his victims were killed in the same manner. He didn’t have a set procedure. Every murder was different — drowning, strangulation, fed to a crocodile while still alive, gunshot wound to different body parts, a knife to the heart—”
“Right,” Ronnie interrupted, “so while most serial killers are forever chasing the thrill of the first kill, some of his later kills were actually a bigger thrill than his first. However, he didn’t see it as a thrill, but as his way of avenging God and punishing sinners, which…”
The courthouse doors closed, and the room went silent. Ronnie took a deep, cleansing breath. She’d discovered and then been assigned number seventeen, and there wouldn’t be an eighteen. He would never kill another innocent woman because she’d fuckingstoppedhim.
The judge talked about how a court proceeding with a signed confession was usually merely a formality, but that they’d needed time to document each murder — even those that happened in other countries, because the women lived here. Met him here. Expected to return here.
He thanked everyone for their patience, and then turned hisattention to Griffin.
“Sir, you had a good job, a good wife, a nice house. When you assaulted your wife, you’d already been to anger management classes twice. You knew you had a problem, but you chose not to deal with it.
“Your decisions to murder were precise, calculated. The choices you made are despicable. You’re of above average intelligence, and you clearly worked through how to stay off of law enforcement’s radar.”
The judge shook his head. “This case has once again brought to light the challenge of the people society have forgotten. Those without family, without friends who’ll check on them. That you met six of them at various churches, where lonely people tried to connect with others, is especially heinous.”
The judge talked another five minutes before he mentioned Ronnie, and she felt eyes turning to look at her, because the judge’s gaze practically bored through her. “Lieutenant Woods, I have no idea how you managed to hold it together for the marathon confession, but you are made of some mighty strong stuff. For every person who makes me fear for our future, I find ten people who show me we’re going to be okay, and you, Lieutenant Woods, are one of those people. Thank you for fighting for the victims, even when no one else cares about them. Thank you for giving me hope for our future.”
Ronnie tipped her head down and back up. Speaking wasn’t appropriate, so it was all she knew to do.
The judge talked another ten minutes, detailing Griffin’s crimes and naming every victim except for the onethey could never put a name to. Many of them had family after all, and the families were there, finally getting closure.
And then, finally, the part Ronnie had waited for — the death penalty, which absolutely didn’t mean he’d be killed, because the federal government hadn’t executed anyone since 2003, but it meant Griffin would never see more than an hour of daylight per day for the rest of his godforsaken life.
* * * *
Ronnie bought more than a few rounds of drinks that evening — not that Josef would actually let her pay for them, but she’d have bought them even if it’d been out of her paycheck.
She wasn’t usually terribly extravagant, but she needed to show her team how much they meant to her. How much she appreciated them.
When her overprotective vampire had learned her team frequented the bar in this particular historic building, he’d bought the building and the bar. She’d wanted to throttle him for it, at first — she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
However, she’d eventually had to admit it was nice to be able to cut up and let loose without having to watch her back. The bouncers, bartender, and waitstaff were all werewolves or cats, and they all knew they were to protect Ronnie and “her cops” above all else. Ronnie had argued with him the civilians needed protecting, but Josef wasadamant she’d have a safe place to let loose and chill out with her people.
Tonight, she polished off her second burger at close to ten o’clock, stood, and said her goodbyes. Despite the fact she told them she’d be okay, Myers still walked her to her car.
“Josef is due back tonight, right?”
