Seven Bridges

by Ciana Stone

  "I suppose."

  "And you could have a dozen phone numbers if you wanted."

  "But, I don't."

  "Why?"

  "Wow, nosy much?"

  Izzi would have taken offense if he hadn't smiled and added. "Just jerking your chain. I guess I've had my fill of beautiful on the outside, and either empty or narcissistic on the inside."

  "That's harsh. Do you really believe beautiful women are that shallow?"

  "I think they can be. I don't believe it's a hard and fast rule that applies to every pretty woman."

  "And what if one of the women here was destined to be the great love of your life?"

  Galen chuckled. "Now that would be a miracle."

  She almost asked why but decided against it and slowed her pace as they drew near the street.

  It was roped off, with police and emergency vehicles cluttering the pavement. But it wasn't the vehicles or the swarm of people that had her feeling a sudden sick dread. It was the tarp-covered body on the street.

  Izzi stopped five feet from the body. People around her talked, took photos, spoke into their radios, and milled around. She just stood there, feeling energy swirl around her from everyone present. It was a mishmash of emotions, ranging from those who were excited to be part of what was happening to those who wished they were anywhere but there.

  Izzi looked at Galen to find him watching her. "Can I see her?"

  "Come on," he took her arm and suddenly all that eddying energy, all the noise– it just vanished, and for the space of a breath, there was nothing but calm and silence. It was remarkable. Shocking. And more welcome that she could have expressed

  "Thank you," she let him lead her to the body.

  When Galen released her, all the noise and chaos returned. But she was centered again, and so it didn't throw her mentally off stride.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  She nodded, and he knelt to pull back the tarp. Izzi staggered, and he bounded to his feet to support her. Once again, she was enveloped in a cocoon of calm. "Thank you," she murmured and then knelt beside the body.

  Were you afraid?

  The answer Izzi received was not from the victim. Not that she'd expected one. Nor had she expected the voice that did answer in her mind. The fact that he'd heard her unnerved her to no end.

  You already know the answer. Why ask the question?

  Izzi wasn't about to acknowledge him. "Cause of death?" she asked Galen, who knelt beside her.

  "My guess would be that gaping hole in her chest."

  "Not the fall?"

  "I'm betting she was dead before she left the roof."

  Izzi looked up at the building. "Can we go up there?"

  "If you want."

  "I do."

  "Can I ask why?"

  Her first inclination was to make up a plausible excuse, but she owed him honesty. "I want to see if I can pick up a particular energy."

  "What particular energy?"

  That wasn't a question she was ready to answer. "Ask me after I've gotten a look around."

  "Fine."

  Keeping secrets, my love?

  Izzi felt her fingers curling into her palms until her hands were white-knuckled fists. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. The last thing she wanted him to realize was how it terrified her to think he was somehow involved in what had happened here today.

  She needed her wits about her to ignore him so she could have a clear head. Her gaze swept over the scene, searching for Gib. As a rule, she was stronger when he was near, but she knew how worried he'd been about her returning to work with the team, and she didn't sense his usual well of calm.

  That thought had her suddenly looking at Galen. Aside from Gib, she'd never felt swathed in stillness. Not until today. Until Galen touched her. To say it was remarkable was putting it mildly. It was a complete shock, particularly since she and Galen had never been close.

  Why would he provide such a deep well of calm and sense of safety? Did it have something to do with her not being able to read him aside from superficial thoughts? She was curious and growing more so each time it happened.

  She lost herself thinking about it, and he remained silent until they arrived at the door that opened onto the roof. She reached for the door handle, but he took her arm and stopped her. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't understand what it is you really do or hear or feel, but I've seen the effect it has on you, and I have to ask. Are you sure about this?"

  "I am. I need to. But I also need a favor."

  "What?"

  "Stay close? Sometimes touch helps shield me from things that are too difficult."

  "You got it," he reached around her and opened the door.

  The moment they walked out onto the roof, she was hit with it. Turmoil, confusion, hurt, and anger, all jumbled into a chaotic blend. She followed the trail of energy, letting impressions come and go like quick flashes of motion clips of a video playing in her mind, one on top of the other, sound and light mixing and blending with such force that her brain struggled to simply take it in.

  And then she came to the edge of the building where a sniper's rife lay with an evidence marker beside it. There was also a cartridge. One. She'd fired once. Izzi looked out from the building, and suddenly she was taken by a vision.

  Everything was ready.

  She was ready. As ready as she could be. She thought this time would be easier. It wasn't. Why was she doing this? Was this the price of love? Of passion?

  What kind of love was that?

  She turned away from the sight of the city beneath her. She'd pack up and leave. He'd never know. She'd find a way to excuse herself. Keep him. Keep him? That was funny. She'd never had him. He had her.

  Her eyes closed as memories of his touch wrapped around her, making her weak with longing. If she didn't do this, she'd lose him.

  "You're not going to disappoint me, are you, love?"

  Eyes that were closed popped open wide. She'd not expected him to be here. That both excited and terrified her.

  "Show me your talent, darling," he said from behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her, steering her back to her weapon.

  She had no strength to argue, no will to refuse what he wanted. With skill born of practice, she took her place, looked through the eyepiece, and waited for the moment. She didn't have to wait long. She zeroed in on a blonde woman and smoothly pulled the trigger.

  "Brilliant," he said from behind her as she watched blood and brains blow from the opposite side of the woman's head from the bullet's entry.

  She turned to face him with a smile rising on her face, eager for his praise. When the pain hit, digging deep into her body just below her diaphragm and then shooting up, she couldn't even gasp.

  Izzi yanked herself back from the vision, surprised by the revelation, horrified to realize he hadn't lied. This was his game. "Oh god," she looked at Galen. "Where's Gib. I need Gib."

  "On my way," she heard his voice in her earpiece.

  "Tell me what's happening," Galen said. "Isabelle, talk to me."

  "Can't. Not yet." She wasn't lying. She had to let the rest of the impressions she'd receive rise to the surface. She needed to make sense of it, search it. If he'd been here, if the woman saw him, then maybe she could get a glimpse of his face.

  Not yet, my love.

  Not until we finish the game.

  Her control slipped, and the thought was out before she could stop it. What game? What do you want?

  Why to end them, dear one. All of them.

  Everyone you care for, everyone you've lusted for or loved. I'm going to end them all. And then, well, then you'll be mine.

  His voice made her twitch, and she reactively reached out for the closest human contact.

  Galen. She took his hand, and he turned to look at her. "It's okay," he assured her.

  "No, it's not," she blurted. "Not at all."

  "Because?"

  "He's here, Ga
len. He's here. He's the one who killed her."

  "He who?"

  "The Seven Bridges Killer."

  "Isabelle, that's –"

  "Don't say crazy. This is his kill. His game."

  "Game?"

  She almost didn't say it, but she wouldn't leave Galen hanging with that anxious expression on his face and the sense of dread she felt coming faintly from him. "He's changed the game. This is all his doing. I'm betting we'll find something to prove she was doing this for someone. A man. He used her as his weapon."

  "But why?"

  "To prove we can't stop him. Can't beat him."

  "You're saying he sees this as a game?"

  "I am."

  "And what are the rules?"

  "I don't know, but I'm guessing it's survival."

  "Whose?"

  She paused for a beat, then answered. "Ours."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Atlanta, Georgia

  "Okay, spill," Galen slid into the driver's seat of the car and turned to look at Izzi, who sat in the back seat.

  Izzi watched Gib, who stood beside the car with the police chief. "On?" She turned her attention to Galen.

  "That comment you made on this game being about our survival."

  "Oh, I will, but can we wait until Gib and Leo are in the car?"

  "Sure."

  Neither one of them spoke again. Leo walked over to where Gib and the police chief were standing, and after another minute or so, the chief shook hands with him and Gib, turned and left. Leo got into the front passenger seat, leaving Gib the seat beside Izzi in the back.

  Gib reached over to squeeze her hand as soon as he was in the car. "You okay?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  "Why did that yes not sound like a yes?"

  Izzi noticed Galen turn his head and saw his reflection in the rearview mirror, looking at her. "Something is off about this shooting," she looked at Gib as she answered.

  "Such as?"

  "Several things," she angled toward him as much as the seat belt would allow. He seemed to sense her discomfort and took her hand, this time hanging onto it.

  Gratitude made her feel a little weak. She wished she could share what she felt with him, let him know how his touch comforted her, how his strength gave her courage. She'd love to share all that with him, but if she could, would he then also see her terror?

  The idea that her monster was hunting them filled her with a sick dread. Not as much for herself as for him and the others. She knew the barbarism her monster was capable of and had no doubt he'd top his own acts of brutality.

  She was scared for the people she loved and didn't know how to stop the monster from his quest. From what he called his game.

  As if sensing her fear, Gib spoke gently. "If you're not ready, this can wait."

  Izzi didn't think she'd ever be ready but knew the longer she waited, the harder it would be to speak the words. It was the equivalent of yanking out a splinter. Just take a breath and do it.

  "No, I need to tell you. When the cheerleaders were being escorted from the stadium, I heard him."

  "Him?"

  "The Seven Bridges Killer."

  "As in for real, or psychically?" Leo asked.

  "The latter."

  "What did he say?" By now, Leo had turned to look at her.

  "Just before the cheerleader was shot, he said, "If you're smart, you'll kiss pavement, my love," and after she was shot, he told me where the shooter was.

  "What, exactly, did he say?" Galen asked.

  "He said "MLK and Forsythe, Isabelle. They better hurry. I feel the need to end this particular game," She nearly blurted out that he'd somehow managed to hear her thoughts when she wondered if the shooter had jumped, but held back that bit of information. She'd tell Gib later, in private. It wasn't something she wanted anyone else to know.

  "Why would he do that?" Galen asked. "Give you that information?"

  "I told you before. This spree killing isn't what it seems at all."

  "Then what is it?" Leo asked.

  "It's a game. His game."

  "I'm not following." Leo looked from her Gib.

  Gib. immediately echoed Leo's comment "I need you to be specific, Iz."

  She nodded. She'd been trying to stall until all the pieces had clicked in her mind. "Here's what I can tell you with certainty. The woman who died today, the shooter? You won't find evidence that points to a motive. Not in her history or her present life. What you may find, if we're lucky, is something indicating she had a new man in her life.

  "A man she was desperate, and I do mean desperate to please. She hadn't ever felt that way about anyone. She was obsessed with him. When he said he had a way she could prove her love, she jumped at the chance."

  "Hold on."

  Izzi looked at Leo, and he continued. "This is something you picked up from the rooftop?"

  "And the body," Izzi answered.

  "Continue, please," Gib said and shot Leo a look she read to mean, be quiet.

  "I picked up a lot of flashes, memories, feelings. After the first murder, he rewarded her. Spent the weekend with her, cooked with her, watched movies she wanted to see, danced in the kitchen while they prepared meals. And they had amazing sex. The best she ever had. He could be gentle or rough, vanilla, or kinky. Whatever she wanted, and she wanted it all."

  "Can I interrupt?" Galen asked.

  Izzi looked at Gib, and while he didn't look pleased, he agreed. "Fine."

  "Thanks. So, you picked up all this, but it doesn't tell us how she planned or executed her kills. Nor does it tell us why."

  "You're right. And she didn't plan it. He did. She just followed the plan he laid out for her, and her success earned her a reward. At least it did, to begin with."

  "And today?" He asked.

  "Today wasn't for her. She was, after all, just a means to an end. He killed her for his own pleasure. The spectacle of it was for us."

  "Meaning?" Gib asked.

  "Meaning he wants us to know he's changing the rules of the game. He'll continue to kill or to plan the kills, but from now on, he'll be hunting very specific quarry."

  "I suddenly feel like I'm going to hate the answer to this question," Galen said. "But what quarry?"

  "Us."

  "Us? As in the people in this car?"

  "And the rest of the people on the team," Izzi looked at Gib. "He's hunting the people in the BAU. And what makes that more frightening is somehow he's found a way to watch us."

  "Oh damn," Leo groaned. "Is this a repeat of 2012?"

  Galen cut a look at Leo and then in the rearview mirror at Gib. Gib muttered a curse under his breath. "Son of a bitch."

  When he looked at Izzi, she knew what he was thinking. Her own mind was hurtling back in time. To 2012. The year the Seven Bridges Killer almost killed Leo.

  2012

  In all the time since she first started as a consultant with the BAU in 2008, Izzi had never taken part in a stakeout. She wasn't sure if she was excited or scared. Maybe it was a combination of both. Usually, when she worked with the BAU it was at Quantico, going over the evidence, visiting crime scenes, and in the case of witnesses or survivors, speaking with them to gain impressions or information.

  This was her first time in the field, and she was ridden with anxiety, fearing she would somehow screw up.

  She sat in a waiting room on the second floor with a BAU agent, Fiona Metcalf. Both wore comm units, and she could hear the conversation between agents as they took up positions in the hospital.

  They were here in hopes of stopping a serial killer suspected to have killed five patients with lethal doses of drugs. After months of exhaustive work, they thought they had uncovered the identity of the killer. A nurse who only worked occasionally, filling in for staff who were on vacation or out sick.

  So far, he was on duty during every murder. Gib convinced the hospital to call the nurse, explaining they needed him immediately due to a member of the staff suddenly falling ill.
They cooperated, and the suspect was due to report within the next half hour.

  Izzi felt the tension. It was almost like the hum of an electrical wire vibrating fast and hard. Time seemed to tick by slowing, leaving her free to let her mind wander.

  Since the day Gib first came to meet her, he and the members of the BAU had been part of her life. She often worked one or two cases a year with them, and thanks to that working relationship, she was able to coax them into giving guest lectures at the university where she taught.

  She and Leo's short-lived affair had not prevented them from being friends, or her developing a friendship with his wife, Margaux, who Izzi liked and enjoyed spending time with, along with his daughter Ayanna.

  For someone who'd spend most of her life alone, she found herself thinking of the members of the Unit as a kind of long-distance family. Gib's wife, Diana, had certainly made her feel welcome and treated Izzi like one of her own whenever Izzi was at Quantico.

  Izzi loved Diana, and thought of her as a friend, but not as a mother figure. That was probably because if she did, she'd then have to think of Gib as a father figure, and what she saw in him was anything but fatherly.

  To her shame, she'd had a crush on him since the day they met, and time had not dimmed it. But if there was one thing she was good at, it was hiding her feelings, so as far as he knew, they were friends and nothing more.

  "Hey," Galen entered the room, interrupting her thoughts. She realized he was addressing Fiona. "Any chance someone can listen in on our comms?"

  "You mean someone in the hospital? Security, maybe?"

  "Can you head for security and check it out? This guy isn't showing up, and local PD says he's not at home. Gib wants to make sure he hasn't somehow tapped into our comms."

  "I'll grab Ken and head for security. You going to keep Izzi company?"

  "Sure," he agreed.

  Fiona hurried from the room, and Galen took a seat across from Izzi. "Sense anything?"

  "No. Why would you think this substitute nurse would be able to tap into our communications?"

  "We're just covering all the bases."

  "Well, that's smart. Are you sure he's not in the hospital?"

  "No one has seen him, and he hasn't logged in."

  "Then maybe he –" All at once pain stabbed her, breath-stealing, body-doubling-over pain. "Leo!"