2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane

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2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane Page 12

by Carolyn McCray


  He scrambled into the alley, his back against the rough wall. Trying to get deeper into the alley and away from the gunfire, Kent found a dumpster and took refuge behind it as a tank, yes a tank, rumbled by.

  What the hell? He’d only been dead for a few days and suddenly they were under martial law?

  Cops in full assault gear trotted down the street, their guns up and ready to fire.

  Kent had been embedded in enough military units to know that was not how it was done.

  The world had gone mad.

  A young man who might have been saved was dead on the ground because some yahoo got trigger-happy.

  Kent needed to get out of there before he got drawn into the madness.

  Discretion was the better part of valor. Right?

  CHAPTER 11

  Nicole avoided any other officer as she weaved her way through the back hallways of the stationhouse.

  She had waited a shade too long between feedings.

  Getting into her Mustang, she withdrew her hand from the front of her soaked blouse. It was okay. Her brother had gotten really good at getting breast milk out of her clothes.

  She gunned the engine, then sat there listening to her car’s engine purr. Down the parking lot, she watched Ruben and Glick get into the captain’s SUV. A pang of guilt hit her. She should be with her partner, but her breasts had something else to say about that.

  Nicole drove home, enjoying the cool air through her open window. It also helped dry off her shirt. The indignities of motherhood.

  Pulling into her garage, Nicole didn’t bother looking around for Kent. He said he would be here. He would be. Besides he couldn’t exactly show his face.

  By the time the automatic garage door closed and she arrived at the door that led to the kitchen, her father was already there, his cheeks a rosy pink. That was not good.

  “What kept you?”

  “My partner is being framed for mass murder,” Nicole sniped back. She wasn’t a teenager coming home late from a party.

  “The baby has been fussy for the last hour. He wouldn’t take the bottle no matter what we tried,” her father explained.

  She knew from experience that there was nothing like a baby’s cry to set your teeth on edge. Despite her crappy day, Nicole tried to be sympathetic.

  “It’s okay, Dad, I’ve got it now.”

  “You really should name him at some point,” her father retorted.

  “I have, it is Logan,” Nicole answered, not thinking how that might affect her father.

  His face sagged, showing his age.

  “I’m sorry, Dad, but I just couldn’t choose your name…” She had to gulp before she lied bald-faced to her father. “Not with Kent dead and all.”

  Within moments, her father’s usual non-plussed expression took over. The guy was the poster-child for stoicism. “I understand.”

  Of course, he did. If he knew the origin of the name, Nicole was certain that he wouldn’t be. But that was okay. He never needed to know.

  As she entered the house though, her brother frowned. “Logan, such an interesting name.” Damn it, Peter, of course, would know the origin of the name.

  Nicole flashed him that “don’t you dare say another word” look. She knew plenty of her brother’s secrets. He’d better not bust her now or it was about to get ugly around here.

  Her brother just gave her back that look of “now I’ve got something on you.” And wandered off into the kitchen.

  She could hear the baby fussing upstairs which made her breasts ache even more. “I’d better get up there. Give me a half an hour, okay?”

  Her father nodded, heading to the living room. There must be some sports game on somewhere in the world.

  Taking the steps two at a time, she headed up to her bedroom. She entered to the full-on scream of her baby. She rushed to the crib, picking her son up even as she feared her eardrums would burst.

  “Shhh…” she said, bringing him up against her chest.

  Logan, however, wasn’t at all interested in being comforted. With his tiny little hands, he pawed at her shirt. Like father, like son. They both knew what they wanted from her.

  She sat down in the nursing chair her father had assembled and unfurled her nursing bra. Logan was a good latcher and started suckling immediately. While her right breast was relieved her left one throbbed angrily. She had to switch Logan over before the left one burst.

  The baby didn’t seem to mind which breast fed him as long as the milk flowed.

  Nicole didn’t flinch when a hand gently caressed her shoulder.

  She knew who it was.

  Her recently dead husband.

  “He’s perfect,” Kent whispered against her skin before he kissed the nape of her neck.

  She smiled, looking up.

  Her husband had a rather large black eye. She simply raised an eyebrow.

  “An errant cholo. Nothing to worry about,” Kent explained.

  Funny thing, she wasn’t worried. Maybe it was all the oxytocin released by breastfeeding, but she felt like she was floating on a nice fluffy white cloud of happiness.

  Kent reached out and cupped his son’s head. “He’s got your eyebrows.”

  Normally Nicole probably would have elbowed her husband. Instead, she chuckled. “And he’s got your belly button.”

  “So true,” Kent said before he kissed her on the forehead. “No matter what we do from this point forward, Logan is the single best thing we’ll ever do.”

  Nicole smiled in the glow of her husband’s affection. It was so seldom he allowed actual emotion to show, that she was determined to soak up every nanogram of his love.

  Logan finally slowed his nursing and drifted off to sleep.

  She went to lift her baby when Kent intervened. “Let me.”

  Like a pro, because of course Kent would be amazing with babies, Kent put Logan up to his shoulder, rocking him gently as he burped their boy. Her husband then gently placed the baby down into his bassinette.

  He turned to her with that look. She knew the look. Normally she enjoyed the look. Their love-making was always…well, adventuresome. But four days after giving birth?

  Give her a break.

  “Kent…”

  He strode forward, leaned over and kissed her. It was equal parts passionate and tender. Most unusual for him.

  “Kent, seriously, I’m not up for anything more than a nap.”

  “Trust me,” Kent purred like her Mustang’s engine. “Get on the bed.”

  Nicole seriously doubted if she could have gotten herself out of that nursing chair, but Kent practically lifted her out of it and set her on the bed.

  “Roll over,” Kent urged.

  While she had done a lot of this during the later stages of her pregnancy, Nicole certainly wasn’t in the mood tonight.

  “Kent.”

  “Trust me,” he said, helping her turn over.

  Nicole expected a lot of things of her husband, but him massaging her lower back was not one of them. Not a sensual, come on, baby, massage, but a real one. He was working his thumbs into her muscles.

  She groaned, letting out a breath, allowing him to dig deeper into her over-tight muscles.

  This was better than sex. No, it was way better than sex.

  The relief of the tension that had been building in her lower back was nearly orgasmic.

  Kent swung a leg over and straddled her rear. Again, there was absolutely nothing sexual about the maneuver. It was to gain the best advantage to sink his thumbs into the fascia over her sacrum.

  His hands had never been put to better use.

  Even though this was a massage, the sounds escaping her lips were definitely X-rated.

  She had never loved her husband as much as she did right now.

  Then the door burst open.

  * * *

  “Oh gawd, oh gawd,” Joshua squealed, as he tried to cover his eyes and spin around at the same time. “I thought I might get some nipple action, but dam
n…”

  Kent was over Nicole. Looked like some backdoor action to Joshua.

  “Whoa there, pervazoid,” Kent said, rising. “Just giving her a massage.”

  Well, that was super disappointing. And here he had his phone already to document the moment.

  “See?” Nicole said sitting up. “Fully clothed.”

  Just another disappointment that Joshua was going to have to live with.

  “And what in the hell are you doing in my bedroom, Joshua?” Nicole hissed.

  “I’ve got news,” Joshua announced.

  “Shh!” Nicole urged, jumping out of bed and rushing over to the bassinette, rocking it. “I swear if you wake up the baby…”

  Joshua retreated a step, nearly out of the room. Nicole was intimidating enough. Now that she was a momma bear? Holy crap.

  Kent walked over. “Grow a pair, Joshua.”

  Nicole spun around. “You too!”

  For all his talk, Kent raised his hands in surrender to his wife. The profiler urged Joshua off to the side. “What do you have?”

  “I haven’t logged it. I figured you would want to be the first to hear it.”

  Kent nodded for Joshua to start.

  “First off all, the victims are related. Two uncles, a mother and her son.”

  “Do you have their identities?” Kent asked.

  “Yes, but that isn’t the big news.”

  Kent cocked his head as Nicole joined them. The baby was still blissfully asleep. “And?” Nicole asked.

  “They were all injected with ultra pure heroin.”

  While Nicole looked confused, Kent smiled, went to clap then obviously thought better of it, but spun on his heel doing a little victory dance.

  “What?” Nicole asked.

  Kent smiled wider than Joshua had ever seen him smile before. “Our girl got bored.”

  Joshua nodded. “The heroin’s chemical signature is exactly the same as the prostitute victims.”

  Nicole’s frown deepened. “So she graduated to mass murder?”

  Kent shook his head. “No, she’s taken on a partner to up her game. Finally, she’s made her first critical mistake.”

  * * *

  That was the problem with serial killers. They were always chasing the high. And when they couldn’t get it the regular way, they had to expand their horizons which usually got them into serious trouble.

  “But why would she bring in a partner?” Nicole asked. “She was getting away with it.”

  “Honestly, the only way we usually catch serial killers is when they mess up like this.”

  His wife nodded. “I know that, but why her? Why now?”

  “I think she’s been bored for a while, but it took my death to trigger her to reach for a bigger, higher golden ring.”

  Nicole sat down hard on the bed. “So you brought these deaths about?”

  His wife always struggled far more than he did with the practical side of his job. Serial killers, well, they killed. With him there or not. “She eventually would have evolved, Nic. Now she has left her flank open. We can catch her now.”

  Joshua looked at Kent with the persistent look of awe and jealousy. “You said she made a mistake in taking on a partner?”

  “The only killing partnerships that usually work are formed before or around the first kill. Usually the killers are genetically related as well. They grew up together so their psychopathology is similar. To bring two killers with evolved signatures together late in the killing cycle is usually a recipe for disaster.”

  “I saw the crime scene,” Nicole stated. “Her partner is highly evolved. This wasn’t his first rodeo.”

  Joshua showed his tablet. “I’m searching now for similar MOs in the tri-state area.”

  Kent shook his head. “Go national. I think she searched far afield for her partner. She wouldn’t want us to track her by tracking him.”

  The morgue attendant typed on his tablet, obeying Kent’s instruction.

  “Why frame Ruben?” Nicole asked.

  “I think it is part of her pathology. Part of her escalation. She wants the police intimately involved in the crime. She thinks I’m dead, so she can act with impunity.”

  “Because none of us are good enough to catch her?” Nicole demanded, her arms crossed over her rather ample chest.

  “Whether or not it is true, that is what she thinks, at the least,” Kent reflected back.

  * * *

  Ugh. Kent’s own intrinsic arrogance was bad enough. Now a serial killer agreed with him? He was going to be insufferable.

  Her husband clapped loudly. “This case was interesting before, but now it is downright fascinating. I am so glad I am dead!”

  Before she could reprimand him, he put his finger to his lips, using her own logic against her. She couldn’t exactly yell at him if her purpose was to keep the room quiet.

  Like she said. Insufferable.

  Her husband turned to Joshua and in a much lower tone, whispered to the morgue tech. “I need to see that crime scene.”

  This would so much easier if the profiler was officially alive, but he wasn’t, so sneaking around was how it was going to be.

  She grabbed her coat, but Kent shook his head. “Nic, you’ve got to get some rest. I’ll handle it from here.”

  Nicole went to argue, but her weary bones just ached so badly. “You’ll call if you find anything of interest?”

  Kent gave her that look. Don’t ask him to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

  She turned to Joshua. “You’ll call me?”

  “You know it, Detective,” Joshua eagerly agreed.

  “I’m holding you to it,” Nicole reminded the attendant.

  Kent opened the door, made sure the coast was clear, then the two men stole out into the night.

  Motherhood truly had changed her. A year ago, she never would have been left behind. But right now with swollen feet, sore breasts and a headache to take down King Kong, Nicole wasn’t the least bit upset that she got to crawl into bed instead of going back to that hellhole of a meat factory.

  Trusting that her husband, even dead, could keep the city safe for one more night, Nicole, still fully dressed, collapsed down onto her bed.

  Of course, that was when Logan decided to fuss. He was like this. He liked to have his seconds before he went down fully to sleep.

  Half-unconscious herself, Nicole picked up her son and sat down in the nursing chair.

  She wasn’t sure if Logan or she fell asleep first.

  CHAPTER 12

  Ruben sat in the interrogation room. Being it was Internal Affairs, the space was larger and more freshly painted than the rooms back at his station.

  The room was crammed with people though. His union rep, lawyer and three IA investigators.

  They thought he was a big fish. They could bust a fellow gold shield for mass murder. They had a hard on for him. This case could make their career.

  Too bad he wasn’t guilty.

  For the most part, Ruben let his lawyer or rep field the questions. He wasn’t one of those hot heads that yelled at the investigators or got all bothered over the accusations. It was IA’s job to be insulting and rude, crashing into his life, upturning it, looking for any signs of impropriety.

  Ruben had none. He might not have been Kent’s intellectual equal, but by God, he was far more moral than the profiler. Ruben had no skeletons in his closet.

  IA could dig for as long and as deep as they liked, they would find nothing.

  So he let them chatter. Calling him every name under the sun. Which the killer deserved. They were just aiming their words at the wrong man.

  He took the time to review the crime scene in his head. The horror had etched each and every gruesome detail into his brain. So there was an upside to the fact that he couldn’t “unsee” the butchery.

  That crime scene took some serious psychosis and strength. They were looking for an adult man. There was just no way could a teenager have the strength, either physica
l or emotional, to do what the killer had done.

  Ruben was certain that Kent would know a hell of a lot more about the killer via the crime scene alone, but Ruben wasn’t the profiler and he was glad for it. Ruben was happy he couldn’t follow the killer down his sick rabbit hole.

  No, for better or worse, he solved crimes the old fashioned way.

  He checked his watch. It was the middle of the night.

  “Are you going to arrest me?” Ruben interrupted the interrogation.

  The lead investigator frowned. “Perhaps.”

  Ruben’s lawyer, Sonya Rodriguez, shook her head. “Sorry, that wasn’t a multiple answer question. Yes or no?”

  The older man sighed. “Not at this time.”

  Sonya pushed back from the table, the metal leg of her chair scraping loudly on the floor. “Then we will pick this up at a more decent hour tomorrow. Let’s say ten a.m.?”

  There really wasn’t anything the investigators could do if they weren’t willing to arrest him, so everyone rose.

  Ruben put his hand out to each of the IA detectives. “I know you’re just doing your jobs. No hard feelings.”

  “Maybe for you,” Hollings grumbled, but shook Ruben’s hand.

  Whereas Kent would have made some kind of stinging barb as he left, Ruben just turned and followed his union rep and lawyer out with his dignity.

  * * *

  Kent stood at the door of the meat packing plant.

  He’d had to step over several piles of police vomit to make it this far. Normally, he would have called the men wimps, but even his stomach did a few flips at the sight.

  And most of the bodies had been removed. All that was left were a few bone fragments sticking up out of the grinders. CSU was coming back in the morning to pull the machines off the counter and take them back to the lab intact.

  “Well?” Joshua asked. “Anything?”

  “Oh so much,” Kent answered.

  The gorier the better when it came to serial killers. The more elaborate and gruesome the killings, the more information for him.

  “There’s significant overkill,” Kent said, as he picked his way toward the meat grinders.

  “Ya think?” Joshua snorted.

  Kent turned on his heel to face the surprised Joshua. “No, I mean I would have been aware of a killer anywhere in the world with this MO. I think the man has been in jail or a psych ward for quite a while. This is his first killing after years of being locked up.”

 

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