Caribbean Fire

by Rick Murcer

  Her nerves began to untangle, somewhat.

  “That sounds like routine, but why didn’t Mum call us?”

  “You know they didn’t want to bother you with something if it wasn’t serious, and this wasn’t . . . until a few hours ago.”

  The worry factor bounced high again. She felt like a damn yoyo.

  “Go on.”

  “Stacie was in a private room with an even more private waiting area. We didn’t find him for twenty to thirty minutes after it happened, and then it took us another hour or so to put together what may have happened.”

  “Find who?”

  “I’m sorry, Chloe, there’s no other way to say this. The cop assigned to investigate the carjacking was found in the private waiting area with a bullet in his head.”

  “Good God, man. Right in the hospital?”

  “Yes. We have no idea of any motivation. In fact, it’s probably not related to Stacie and her family at all.”

  “Again, what’s this got to do with my family?”

  “We’re not totally sure it does. Haley Rose, Jen, and Ian were the last ones in the room, as far as we know. Since the hospital doesn’t have security cameras, we don’t know when they left or when the shooter might have entered the room. Listen. This probably has nothing to do with Stacie and Jen. This guy made some enemies, so we’re looking into everything.”

  “So they could have been long gone, before the killer entered the hospital, or—”

  “Left with the killer? Not likely, but we have to ask, right? One other possibility is that Haley Rose shot the cop for being a dick, which he was. We tossed that one out.”

  “I think that’s a safe bet. Stacie or none of the nurses heard anything at all?” asked Chloe, already preparing to call Manny and then get back to Lansing.

  “Not a thing. No one saw or noticed anyone coming or going. It’s actually kind of strange, but then again, people walk around with their heads up their asses or glued to their damn smartphones and wouldn’t notice an alien invasion. Okay, rant is over. You didn’t answer my question.”

  Glancing at Barb, Chloe answered, staying as calm as she dared. “I’ve been trying to call Mum for twenty minutes or so. I’ve left messages. Damn it. This isn’t funny. I’m going to call Manny, and we’ll—”

  Chloe’s phone vibrated and then rang with the Lady Antebellum song Jen had set up as her personal ringtone on both hers and Manny’s phones.

  “Frank. Hold on. Jen’s calling.”

  “Jen. Are you all right? Are Ian and Mum okay? Where are you? What’s going on?”

  “Ahh. Well, which question should I answer first?”

  If this was what it was like when your kids didn’t call home when they were supposed to, she wasn’t letting Ian out of the house until he was twenty-one—and no driver’s license, ever. Yet, she hadn’t heard too many sounds in her life that had brought her more instantaneous relief.

  Thank God.

  “All of them.”

  “Okay. We’re, like, at the mall shopping. Granny’s phone died, but she thought we should call because you and dad were probably worrying about stuff. We’re all fine. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Well. I couldn’t reach Mum and . . . you’re right, why wouldn’t you be?”

  “You sound a little upset. Is everything all right with you?” asked Jen, her voice calm, even.

  Chloe frowned. Then let it go. Jen was usually high energy on the phone, but she probably could, just like her daddy, tell Chloe’s emotional state and was keeping things low key.

  “I got a call from Frank Wymer, the Lansing detective that works with me, and there was an incident at the hospital where Stacie is staying.”

  “You know about Stacie, huh? That so sucks. That guy must be a real ass. An incident? Like what?”

  Trying to decide whether she wanted to worry Jen and Haley Rose or wait to talk to Manny first was the hardest decision she’d had to make in weeks.

  Barb seemed to know what was going on and slowly shook her head.

  But Chloe thought differently, instinctively.

  “Someone was attacked in the hospital near where you all were visiting, and Frank was wondering if you three were okay. And if you saw anything that could help them.”

  “No, we didn’t see anything weird other than the hair of the girl who was working behind the counter at the food court. Talk about a mess,” said Jen.

  More relief. Jen was joking around.

  “Can I talk to Mum and Ian, maybe, if he’s awake?”

  “Just as I was dialing, Ian had one of those diaper explosion things, you know? So Granny took him into the restroom. I can have her call later, okay?”

  “That will work. Make sure she charges that phone, and don’t let her forget. Thanks for calling Jen. I love you.”

  “No problem. Love you too, and tell Dad I love him and to call when he gets the chance. Bye.”

  Jen’s phone cut out, and Chloe took her phone from her ear.

  “What was that?” asked Barb.

  “A misunderstanding.”

  Chloe touched another button on her phone and found Frank’s call.

  “Hey, Frank. That was Jen, and they’re fine.”

  Silence.

  “Frank?”

  There was a snort and Wymer answered, his mouth obviously had just been full of something. “Sorry, Chloe. I took time to eat lunch.”

  “In one minute?”

  “I’m good. So everything’s peachy?”

  “Yes. Jen said they were at the mall shopping.”

  “Then I won’t bother you anymore. Enjoy yourself.”

  “Thanks, Frank, I will.”

  She hung up thinking about the last thing Frank had said.

  Only Chloe wasn’t at all sure she was going to enjoy herself. Jen’s call had eased her tension, but what if Frank was wrong? What if someone was stalking her family?

  Looking at her screen for a long moment, she finally scrolled down to Manny’s number and hit the call button.

  **********

  Preston snatched the phone from Jen’s hand and then sat her down on the hotel’s horribly smelling bed.

  “Ya did good, girly. I almost believed ya myself. Good thing too. If you’d made a mistake, BANG, no more little brother.”

  “You’re such a creep. You get off on scaring us? You’re going to get yours. Karma, you know?” hissed Jen.

  Without any hesitation, he backhanded her. She felt the blood flow inside her mouth as teeth and flesh collided and her head snapped backward.

  “You should be scared, and don’t talk to me about karma, you little shit. I got some saved up, don’t ya know. Now turn around.”

  She did as he asked, not caring for another swat. Her anger burned deeper as she twisted and held out her hands. She envisioned them around his throat.

  He worked quickly and then, with one last yank, drew her ropes tighter than before.

  She winced but refused to call out.

  “What are going to do with us?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. But for now, I want ya to stop talking while I visit your granny and brother. There ain’t much room in that bathroom, so they’ll be needing to stretch.”

  Titling his head, he leaned toward her. His eyes were wide and as cold as anything she’d encountered in her life.

  “I don’t owe ya nothin’, lass. I’m here for one reason. Remember that if ya get the urge to be brave.”

  With that, Ennis Preston ambled toward the locked bathroom.

  CHAPTER-48

  Standing on the side of the small, two-lane dirt road, Manny looked toward the fading sun, slowly shaking his head. No one had seen it all, although he believed he’d come extremely close months ago with the body staged as a mummy in that Las Vegas hotel room.

  The semi-charred remains of the taxi entombing the two victims was just one more reminder of what people were inexplicably capable of doing to each other.

  The killer had shot both vict
ims multiple times. While what was left of the man and woman was far from pretty, the fire was extinguished before scorching the car entirely, leaving enough of each person to positively identify them. He wasn’t sure of the relationship of the driver and the seventh victim, but it was probably a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time for the driver. Chalk up victims seven and eight to what seemed to be a never-ending stream of bodies caused by an out-of-control fantasy.

  Damn it.

  If he could only figure out this sick bastard.

  Exhaling, he sent the guilt packing. This wasn’t his fault, no matter what the inner demons wanted to convey. He wasn’t the killer here.

  “This is nuts, Manny. I don’t get this at all,” said Sophie.

  She’d moved up beside him, along with Belle. He hadn’t really noticed until she had spoken.

  “That’s two of us,” said Belle. “And it’ll be awhile before I get the images of the inside of that car out of my mind.”

  “Make it three of us,” he said. “Good luck with that, Belle. Good luck.”

  The faint smile appeared and disappeared on her striking face. She’d figured that out in quick fashion.

  “More wine and soft music will help. At any rate, this scene reeks of desperation. These killings are way off the beaten path with his modus operandi,” said Belle.

  “I agree with both of those assessments. The question is what transpired for him to go that route?”

  “Because he’s a psycho bitch that’s out of control?” said Sophie.

  “There’s that,” said Manny.

  “Dean and Alex are going over the car, along with Munoz’s folks, so maybe that will tell us something. I have my own thoughts, however,” said Belle, reaching down to rub her knee.

  “Fire away,” he said.

  “Okay, hear me out. Maybe, somehow, when the killer wasn’t paying attention or thought she was incapacitated, she got away from him. This taxi driver, being a Good Samaritan, just happened along to pick her up. The killer couldn’t have her getting into town, so he had to take them both out, you know?”

  Manny nodded. “Great deduction. I was thinking that the driver was probably in the wrong place at the right time, so that makes sense. If you tie in the scrapes and scratches on the part of her body that wasn’t scorched, a reckless jaunt through this island’s underbrush adds up.”

  “So explain the bullet holes in the windshield,” said Sophie. “Wait, never mind. The killer obviously shot through it, but what I mean is . . . how did the unsub know the seventh victim was in the back seat?”

  “I’m not sure, Sophie. I’d hate to think it was a lucky guess because the roads are pretty secluded at this time of night. Maybe he saw the driver help her in the car and looped around the mile block. Actually, if that happened, it was fairly clever. If I saw a vehicle fling up behind me like a bat out of hell, I’d be pretty desperate to make sure I wasn’t caught by the maniac in that vehicle,” said Manny.

  Belle added, “Someone coming from town would certainly be less disarming. The driver wouldn’t even be thinking of that car as a problem. Plus, shooting someone from the front would have been an easier task. You know what else? I said it before, but don’t you believe this unsub is becoming bolder or maybe desperate?”

  “I do. No matter how secluded this area is, he took a serious risk doing what he did. Putting the bodies in a raft at the beach of the resort was less dicey because he did it under the protection of the night. This was in broad daylight. But maybe he had no choice.”

  “That sounds right. He could also be trying to, like Sophie said before, wrap this up. To be done. Even if that included a chancy situation.”

  “Maybe. I just can’t get a handle on why he’s been so erratic for the last thirty-three hours, other than the desperation angle? Anxiety about what?”

  “Getting caught?” said Belle.

  “Yes. I suppose that could be it.”

  Sophie raised one hand and the other followed as she spoke fluently and in total rhythm with the movement of her hands. “Just to eliminate one more thing, there is no way this was random, right? If it’d been arbitrary, then why burn the vehicle? I’m not sure your theories are right on, but you’re close. So now what?”

  “Good question. You heard Munoz confirm that all of the people working on the two dig sites were accounted for, one way or another. Our profile led us to five dead-ends and another almost worthless set of circumstances, other than an unknown motivation for killing off a Mayan-relic trafficking ring that doesn’t, at least so far, amount to any true leads to the killer.”

  “Do you know how that sounds?” asked Sophie. “It makes it seem like we’re going to totally screw up this vacation because we can’t solve this case with what we have.”

  Manny did know how it sounded.

  So far, since he’d joined the BAU two years prior, they only had two cases he would call unsolved. Both involved circumstances where, like this one, evidence-gathering had been limited by the environment. And motivation had been difficult to establish. Could this be number three?

  What am I missing? Where is the key to this thing?

  “Sorry for the out-loud thinking. This one just stinks,” said Sophie.

  Josh, Dean, and Alex arrived, Munoz a step behind, talking on his satellite phone, their faces puzzled. Interesting how Dean and Alex took on the same sort of expressions the longer they worked together.

  Alex wiped at his sweating forehead with his prosthetic left hand.

  “Well, we might have a couple things to work on. We found traces of tire tracks that could belong to the SUV that rammed this car from the front at about a forty-five-degree angle.”

  “SUV?” asked Belle.

  “Yeah. The tire tread tells us that. Also, there was silver paint transfer from the vehicle to the taxi. We have a database for that as well, so we’ll get those pictures shipped to Quantico as soon as we get back into cell phone tower range,” said Josh. “We just have to pray that the SUV wasn’t stolen.”

  “We found a few more pieces of evidence to examine, including a footprint, but we’ll need a lab to work from. It could be a long night,” added Dean.

  “That sucks,” said Sophie.

  “Working late?” asked Dean.

  “No. Well it does, but no cell reception? That’s why I’m not getting any Words With Friends notifications,” said Sophie, pulling her phone from her purse.

  “You play that game?” asked Alex.

  “Hell yeah. I never lose.”

  “Oh, it’s on. When we get back to town, I’m going to challenge you. What’s your handle?”

  “Queen Sophie, peasant. And bring it. I’m going to whip you like a red-headed stepchild.”

  “She’s good,” said Dean.

  “She’ll need to be,” answered Alex, crossing his arms.

  “Can we work this case first?” asked Josh, shaking his head.

  Manny ran his fingers through his hair. “So we can’t receive or make calls out here?”

  Munoz shook his head. “I’m sorry. There just aren’t many places to put towers out here. Mostly because the population is sparse and not worth the money, as of yet, to the cell phone companies. We are Mexico, and this is a small island.” The satellite phone was in his hand resting at his thigh. He raised it. “That is why I possess this.”

  “Who were you talking with?” asked Manny, glancing at his own bar-less phone.

  “My office in Mexico City. They confirmed the last segments of information we had on Professor Emmerson’s team. None of the people on his team could have been the killer because we firmed up a check of cell phone records with providers. None of Professor Emmerson’s team members had contact with the victims on the list for over six months.”

  Munoz sighed. The inspector looked older than when Manny had met him just two days ago. They all did.

  “Unless the evidence Alex and Dean have gathered pans out, we’re not in a great position for leads,” said Manny.


  “We will canvas the roads leading into town in hopes that someone saw the damaged SUV. You all know how that can go, however,” said Munoz.

  Here they were again.

  Manny scanned the circle of talented cops with incredible experience and a degree of technology at their fingertips that could lead them to the killer—but most likely wouldn’t. He thought this man was too smart to knowingly use anything that would incriminate himself.

  This man understood science. Yet he seemed to be driven by a force Manny couldn’t deduce totally. Given the mixed signals of his death spree, Manny wasn’t sure the unsub knew what that force was anymore either. Had this killer’s mission become somewhat muddied? Was he feeling guilt that he hadn’t anticipated?

  Some men and women believe their purposes to be noble, like Caleb Corner had in San Juan, but become enchanted with the power of life and death. They then tap into a primordial lust that was better buried.

  He again ran his hand through his hair as the warm breeze blew against his face.

  That didn’t quite fit here, did it? This was different. It was almost like the unsub worried about not finishing what he started. As if he was going to disappoint someone.

  He also had a firm grasp on how to—

  Wait. Belle had said something that caused him to rethink a sentence Emmerson had said and Munoz unknowingly repeated.

  “Inspector,” said Manny, grasping his arm.

  “He speaks. How was this trance session?” asked Sophie.

  “So that was it?” said Belle.

  “Oh yeah. I’ve seen better though.”

  “Better?”

  “Listen up, you two . . . you six,” he said. “Inspector, you said no calls for the last six months, right? Did you mean none of these people had really spoken to each other for that length of time? Or did they all talk six months ago? Or something in between?”

  Munoz’s scowl told him that the inspector was totally puzzled by the questions.

  “The report said no contact for six months. I didn’t ask for details.”