Seven Bridges

by Ciana Stone

  "Not for me. You know that. But I needed to understand what your end game is here."

  "To help this Unit, however I can, and to put an end to my monster."

  Leo nodded. "That's all I needed to know."

  "Is it? Don't you want to know if I'm doing this for justice or revenge?"

  "Do you know which it is?"

  "I do. It's neither. I'm not qualified to determine what merits as justice for what this monster has done, and I don't believe in revenge. But I do believe it's right to stand up again, and if possible, put an end to evil and those who would do evil against the innocent."

  "Not just capture, convict and imprison, but to end. You said that twice."

  "Yes, I did."

  "So, you are telling me that your need for – what, retribution– sanctions the taking of a life?

  "Not at all. I'm saying the need to keep this monster from killing more people validates the need to end him. He is beyond redemption, without remorse, and no one in this country should have one single dime of their tax dollars spent to keep him alive. Not even for a day."

  It hurt Leo to hear the sincerity in her voice. She wasn't putting on an act. She was hunting to kill. It saddened him, made him feel that something beautiful and pure had been lost, something that couldn't be replaced.

  "What happened to your light, Izzi?"

  "What do you think is guiding me, Leo?"

  "Light? The light calls for blood?"

  "You're putting words in my mouth. I didn't say that. I said, end him. And the only way to end that kind of darkness is to drag it kicking and screaming into the light, where its evil is revealed. Not just to us, but to him. And that will end him. The darkness will be destroyed, and that corrupted soul will be taken by the light, and no more evil can come from it."

  Leo felt the hair stand up on his skin at her words, and at the way her eyes went white. He looked at Gib, and for a moment, they just stared at one another. Finally, Gib shook his head and ran his hand down the sides of his mustache and chin.

  "Do you know how to drag him into the light?" Leo asked.

  "Not yet, but in time I will. Anything else?"

  "No. Not at the moment."

  "Okay then," she stood. "Are we ready to go see who this man in the car at the bottom of the ravine is?"

  "Are you sure it's not our Unsub?" Gib asked.

  "Absolutely," she replied and headed for the door.

  Gib looked at Leo, who shrugged and followed her. After a moment, Gib did as well.

  Chapter Nine

  Tupelo, Mississippi

  Izzi opened the door of her room and held it for Gib to enter. As silly as it would seem to others, she didn't like being the first person to enter a hotel room. Having Gib cross the threshold first helped to dispel the energy from previous occupants. She knew he wasn't convinced that energy existed, but she was, and lucky for her, he didn't complain or try to make her feel embarrassed about it.

  Gib checked everything, the closet, bathroom, and the door to the balcony. They'd already deposited his luggage in his room, which adjoined hers, and he'd unlocked the interconnecting door from his side. Now, he unlocked the door from her side and opened it.

  "Thank you," she walked in, pulling her luggage.

  "You don't have to thank me. Do you want to change or get something to eat before we leave to view the scene?"

  "Actually, yes. I'd like to change into slacks. Can you stay and talk to me while I do?"

  There was a moment's hesitation that caused her to pause. "If it makes you uncomfortable–"

  She didn't stop to think that the year since they'd been together had changed things enough that her changing in front of him would be an issue.

  "I wouldn't use that word exactly," he answered and then smiled. "But seeing you take off your clothes definitely has an effect."

  Izzi smiled in relief, and as he took a seat in the chair beside the bed, she hoisted her pull-along onto the bed and teased. "Careful, SAC Foster. You could get a girl worked up with all that flattery."

  "No flattery, just fact."

  This time when she looked at him their gazes held, and she felt heat suffuse her skin. To cover her sudden self-consciousness, she opened her bag and took out a pair of black jeans. Izzy sat to take off her boots, then stood and slid the skirt down, aware Gib was watching and that she had only a pair of pantyhose and lace underwear on beneath the skirt.

  "Do you ever wonder if the original profile of my monster is wrong?" She asked as she peeled off the pantyhose.

  "What makes you ask?"

  "Just a thought." She slid the jeans up her legs and fastened them. "I know this Unsub has been discussed at length time and again, but on the way here, I was thinking. I was seven when he came to our house, and I remember a grown man. At least his size was, and the sound of his voice. It wasn't a young man or an old man, but a man, maybe like my dad, but then again older, or maybe younger."

  "And?"

  Izzi fished a pair of socks from her luggage and sat to put them on. "So, let's say, for the sake of argument, he was – what, forty, when he came to my house. That was twenty-five years ago. He'd be sixty-five years old now."

  "We've considered that. Many times, as you well know."

  "But never thought to reassess?" She picked up her skirt, shook it, and then walked over to the closet to take out a hangar for it.

  "Why would we?"

  "Because I wasn't abducted by an old man in 2018. Because the person who is committing the crimes now, the one who's been killing people for at least the last eight years, is not an old man. Think about his victims. Some were women of size. And strength. He wouldn't have had such an easy time overpowering them."

  Izzi returned to the bed, closed the suitcase, and took a seat, facing Gib.

  "He would if he's big enough," he argued.

  Izzi nodded and crossed her legs Indian fashion. "I remember my mother getting shoved into the room where Donny and I were playing. I could see him behind her, or at least his head in that scary black thing that covered his whole head. I could see down to his lips over her head."

  Gib leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees. "And your mother was what, five-five?"

  "Five-six according to the coroner's report."

  "Okay, so if she was five-six and you could see from his lips to the top of his head, he'd have to have been around six feet?"

  "Give or take an inch. And he wasn't huge, not big like you, or even tall and thin like Leo. He was more like Dennis or Galen. Average size, not big, not fat, just normal."

  Gib nodded. "I see your point. If the Unsub is in his sixties, and even if he is still in reasonably good health, he'd have a tough time manhandling some of his victims. Like this last one. She was five-ten, a hundred and forty-nine pounds, and in good shape. She coached girls' basketball at the middle school, and was a regular at the local gym."

  "Exactly. So how did he overpower her so easily? From the looks of her body, she put up a fight. There are a lot of defensive wounds, so many it makes you wonder if he didn't walk away pretty beat up. Wouldn't that gain notice? From someone?"

  "All good questions, and we'll put them to the team," he said and stood. "But for now, we need to get moving. Anything you need to do before we leave? Want to go down to the café and grab some food to eat on the way?"

  Izzi shook her head. "The last thing I want is a full belly to go visit a crime scene."

  "Good point. Okay, I'm group texting the team. Want to head downstairs?"

  "Sure."

  She grabbed her shoulder bag that contained her wallet and personal belongings, phone, and iPad, and then grabbed a short wool jacket from her luggage.

  Gib finished texting and opened the door for her. Izzi stopped at the door and looked up at him. "Can I confess something to you?"

  "Anything."

  "I'm a little scared."

  "Of?"

  "Being at the scene."

  "It's not the first time you've visi
ted a crime scene."

  "No, but it's the first time I've visited one of his since … you know."

  "Since you were kidnapped and held captive and I was stabbed and nearly died."

  Izzi nodded. Gib took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "If you find yourself getting overwhelmed, just walk outside. Text me if you need reinforcement."

  "Thank you."

  "What are friends for?"

  His smile helped to ease her as much as his touch.

  Crime scene –New Allenton

  The county sheriff had two deputies waiting for them, along with an investigator from the MBI, the Mississippi Bureau of Investigations. Everyone piled out of the van as soon as Galen, who'd volunteered to drive, stopped at the end of the gravel driveway.

  Izzi sat there for a few moments, looking at the house. Leo looked back and saw her, then retraced his steps. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes, fine."

  "Then why are you sitting here?"

  "Just waiting."

  "For?"

  "There's a lot of people gathered in front, getting ready to go in. A lot of energy and emotions, expectations, and questions. It's too much to filter through. At least for me. I thought I'd wait. Once everyone goes in, maybe I'll walk around outside and see if anything strikes me."

  "Want some company?"

  "Do you want to keep me company?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Then yes, thank you."

  When Leo smiled at her, Izzi felt that connection between them, the bond of friendship, and a shared past. "While we have a moment, I wanted to say thank you," she said.

  "For what?"

  "Kindness, friendship, passion – teaching me that sex without love is empty, and sex with love is a thing of beauty. Showing me that caring continues even when passion ends and for nearly dying to try and keep me out of harm's way. I'm sorry if anything I did hurt you or your family, Leo. That was never my intention."

  She saw the glisten in his eyes and reached for his hand. He smiled and blinked several times. "You always have had a way of getting to me. And I told you a long time ago that you never have to thank me or say you're sorry. You risked just as much for me, and if anyone is responsible for hurt to my family, it's me."

  "But you're okay now, right? You and Margaux? And Ayanna?"

  "Yes, we are. And by the way, thank you for befriending them. They're always so delighted to hear from you, to get a card, and those care packages you send are always a hit."

  "I like them. They're good people, and Ayanna is really something, Leo. The best of you and Margaux just shines in her. You should be proud."

  "We are. But enough of that. Tell me about you. How are you? Really?"

  "Making it," she answered honestly. "And better since Gib showed up. Ironically, the thing I was running from was the thing I needed the most and now I realize that. I'm ready to find this monster, Leo. And this time, beat him."

  Just then, Gib motioned for Leo. "Sorry," Leo apologized. "You ready to join?"

  "Not just yet, but you go on. He obviously needs you."

  He smiled and hurried toward Gib. Izzi saw him pass Galen, Tamara, and Dennis, who were standing together with the MBI officer. Galen spoke, and Leo stopped. A moment later, everyone looked in her direction, then Leo continued to where Gib waited.

  Izzi was surprised when Galen walked away from the group and over to where she sat in the van. "Are you hesitant to go inside?"

  "Hesitant?" She looked at the house and then at him.

  "It's as good a word as any. You don't have to, you know."

  "But I need to."

  "Why?"

  "To feel if it was really him."

  "You think that's possible?"

  "I know it is."

  "But you don't want to."

  "I do, but – well, maybe I'm just chicken."

  "I don't think that's a description anyone would ascribe to you, Isabelle."

  Surprise number two.

  "Well, thank you. So, what do you think?"

  "I think I'm ready to get to work."

  "Catch a killer?"

  "I'm always ready for that. You think we can?"

  "Not today."

  "Why?"

  She considered it for a moment. Galen had not always been supportive of her insights, and he made no effort to hide the fact that he didn't put much stock in psychic intuition, but he also had always listened and considered what she had to say, even if he turned around and discounted it.

  But this was a new time, and she was no longer inexperienced and hesitant. Besides, it was long past time for her to trust herself and him. "I can't tell you. I just know that nothing's clear today, and I think that's how he wants it."

  "Care to elaborate?"

  "Yes, but let's walk," she said as she watched everyone file into the house.

  Izzi led the way down the drive and into the rutted gravel road that ran in front of the house. "Did you notice there are no houses in sight of one another?"

  Galen frowned, looked one way, the other, and then back at her. "You're right. I honestly hadn't paid attention."

  "And no one who's been interviewed could remember seeing a car in the driveway or parked on the side of the road."

  "That doesn't mean there wasn't one."

  "Or that there was," she said as she turned and started back the way they'd driven to reach the house. Something was pulling her in that direction, some intangible thread of energy.

  She could hear Galen's footfall a half a step behind her and feel his curiosity, but it didn't interfere. The energy stopped pulling but didn't disappear. Izzy looked around, unsure what direction to look or what to look for.

  She blinked as it hit her. "Look," she pointed. "Across the road. Is that a path?"

  Together they crossed the road. Sure enough, a beaten path led away from the road, and down the hill, to disappear into the trees. Just two feet off onto the path was a footprint. They looked at it and then at one another.

  "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Galen asked.

  "That maybe he didn't drive in?" She turned and started back in the direction of the house.

  "And that if we follow this path, maybe we find out whether the dead guy in the car is a copycat killer or our Unsub played a new game with us."

  "I'm betting on the latter."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because he likes to constantly remind us that he's smarter."

  "And does this make him smarter?"

  "That depends."

  "On?"

  "On whether we find something he didn't mean for us to find or if he's covered his tracks so completely that we're just a pack of puppies chasing our tails while he sits back and smiles."

  "I don't particularly like the puppy imagery."

  Izzi chuckled. "No, I don't imagine you do. But then you're a little like him, aren't you?"

  "Me? How?"

  "You like being the smartest one in the room."

  "Doesn't everyone?"

  "Good point."

  She stopped when she reached the gravel sidewalk that led to the front door. "Are you ready?" He looked from her to the house.

  "As I'll get. Let's do this."

  "After you."

  She nodded, pulled on a pair of gloves, and took a step. Izzi felt it when she crossed the threshold. It was like pushing through a membrane. There was resistance, and then suddenly, she was surrounded, enveloped in the pain and fear that'd seeped into the walls and floors and ceiling. It permeated everything in the house and got stronger with each step she took.

  By the time she reached the bedroom, she could barely breathe.

  "Iz?"

  Gib took her hand and tried to steer her back from the doorway. "Are you okay? Maybe you should–"

  She knew he was trying to help and loved him for it, but it wasn't what she needed. His concern added to her anxiety rather than diminishing it. He didn't think she could handle it. She wasn't strong enough. This was a mistake.

  Do
ubts can be contagious. She couldn't let his doubts become hers. So, she drew on her reserves and pulled away from him. "I'm fine, Gib."

  "Iz–"

  "Fine. Seriously. Just let me do this my way, okay?"

  "Yes," he nodded. "Of course. If you need me…"

  "Thank you," she gave his arm a brief squeeze then stepped into the bedroom.

  Oh god. It took every ounce of her will to take another step. No, please. Please, oh, God, please. Don't hurt my children.

  Izzy put her hand to her lips, to keep any sound from emerging. She could hear the cries of the children: the wail of an infant and the terror of two older children. Not old enough to understand but old enough to know the horror they were trapped in.

  She felt in the pocket of her jeans for her worry stone and formed a fist around it as soon as it was in her hand. Even through the glove, she could feel the stone grow hot. The air in the room seemed alive as if it possessed substance. It was like a bowl of water that shook, rippled, and waved when touched or impacted by an outside source.

  Images appeared and vanished, too quickly to recognize, and in such rapid succession, they made no sense. Izzi didn't try to make sense of any of it. She now understood what she was experiencing. The residual energy of what had happened. It was stored here.

  Show me. She stopped trying to make sense of it and stepped into the energy. That's when everything went quiet and still. Izzi wandered the room slowly, stopping after one step to look, smell, and listen. The crime became clearer, a movie that played in her head, horrible and inhuman.

  Her heart beat faster.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead, ran down the middle of her back. She was so close. So close to touching his essence, to knowing him. As if reaching for something physical, she extended her hand and touched the door of the closet where empty handcuffs hung from a hook screwed into the surface. They were encased in a plastic bag that had been taped closed.

  She didn't need to touch them. Just the door. One more step and she was close enough to place the palms of both hands on the door.

  Pain the likes of which she'd never imagined, seized her, stabbing into her chest with enough force to rob her of breath. She couldn't get her lungs to work, couldn't inhale. Couldn't see. Oh god, she was blind.