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

by Carolyn McCray

  “No, look,” Nicole urged, pointing again to the matchbook.

  The blue and white paper proudly announced the final karaoke battle, scheduled for tonight.

  “Do they really think we’d not realize this was a set-up?” Ruben asked.

  He knew the serial killers were arrogant, but come on.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  * * *

  “No,” Glick said.

  “But --” Nicole pressed.

  “I said, no,” Glick repeated, moving some papers on his desk. She wasn’t so sure he was actually doing anything useful, but it gave him something to do rather than look her straight in the eye.

  “But --” Even Ruben tried to get into the conversation, however Glick leaned back in his chair and pushed his eyeglasses up onto his forehead.

  “Do I need to get a dictionary out to explain the definition of ‘no’?”

  Nicole took in a deep breath. Coming at Glick head on when he was in this kind of mood was a waste of time.

  “Can I ask you sir, why you won’t allow Ruben and I to go undercover at the club tonight?”

  “It isn’t obvious?” Glick replied, using the back of his hands to rub his eyes. He was looking older and older, even with Kent in prison.

  “But we know it is a set-up. We need to have a presence at the contest.”

  Glick waved away her words like they were confetti. “And we will, just not you two. The cultists have seen you. They know who you are.”

  “Exactly,” Nicole said, pushing forward in her chair. Her ass was barely still in the seat. “They invited us.”

  “Usher, Harbinger, whatever,” Glick said. He was having as hard a time with her name change as she was. “Your husband is in prison. You have a small baby at home. Why don’t you just sit this one out?”

  “Sir, I couldn’t agree more,” Ruben said, throwing Nicole under the bus as quickly as he could. “But all the more reason for me to go.”

  “And Torres,” Glick said turned his attention to Nicole’s partner. “When did you get so suicidal? This is a trap. We know it is a trap. So let’s avoid the trap.”

  Ruben shook his head, scooting further back in his chair.

  “But you are, at the least going to have people undercover inside, right?”

  Glick sighed, glancing over to his Zen sand garden. It looked like the man had been working it quite a bit lately.

  “Of course,” Glick said. “And you guys can be in the van. Just not in the bar, are we understood?”

  It was the best they were going to get.

  “Yes, sir,” they both replied.

  * * *

  Kent shuffled along behind the other prisoners as they were escorted from the yard back to their cells. Lunch apparently was coming to a close for the general population.

  Now the protected population would go into the mess hall and eat while the rest of the prisoners enjoyed the sunny afternoon. After that, Kent could feel a nap coming on. With the new baby and his unusual working hours, Kent was finding prison a nice, relaxing break. If only they would leave him alone. He really didn’t need enforced “outside” time.

  While they weren’t manacled, they still slowly trotted along as if they were. The first sign of institutionalization Kent supposed. He glared at a few guards as he passed the inner gate. Which one of them had let those Aryan prisoners out in the yard to give Kent the most vague warning ever?

  Who had betrayed his job? It would be good to know. Kent had cash to throw around and having a guard under his thumb might be nice.

  “Don’t think I owe you,” Kent whispered to Martin as they entered their dull gray cell block. “I could have taken them.”

  “No doubt,” the man replied sounding awfully full of himself. “But if you’d whooped their asses, you would been put in solitary. And where would I be without my new playmate?”

  Kent rolled his eyes. “Glad someone is enjoying himself.”

  Martin chuckled. “Please, you’ve come around. Yesterday you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

  True, true.

  Serial killers and their constant need for affirmations. Seriously the most insecure lot in the world. Which right now was working in Kent’s favor. At some point, and looking at the way Martin was gloating, the guy would give away his secrets.

  Then it would be Kent’s turn to gloat.

  He was really, really, really looking forward to it.

  * * *

  Nicole tapped her toe against the steel floor of the surveillance van. This was stupid. She and Ruben should be in there. Glick, while a great Captain, sometimes made the wrong call, and this was one of those times.

  She could feel it in her bones. The killers were lurking, waiting to make their play. And here she was sitting in some stupid windowless van with a “we can root your clog, on call twenty-four hours” sign pasted on the side.

  Like Debbie Downer couldn’t spot a surveillance van a mile away?

  “Nicole,” Ruben said, setting his hand on her knee. It wasn’t a romantic gesture in any way. The contact didn’t feel like he wanted to stir up old feelings. His palm just felt annoyed. “Please.”

  “Fine,” she snorted back. Even she was getting tired of tapping that foot. Jimmi and Joshua glanced over, but then their eyes darted back to their task at hand. Neither wanted to hold her gaze. Not when she was in such a mood.

  Part of her frustration. No, most of her frustration wasn’t really with Glick. It was with the fact Kent was in prison. He never would have listened to Glick. Never. Kent would be in that club right now, sussing out Debbie Downer, breaking the case.

  Doing what he did best.

  “I can’t take this anymore,” Nicole said, rising from her rickety chair.

  “Hey, if you need to go home to be with Logan, we would all totally understand.”

  Of course Ruben would understand. That was just the kind of guy he was. An “in the deepest recesses of the box” kind of thinker.

  “No, I mean, I can’t stay out here.”

  She headed toward the back door. Ruben caught her upper arm. “Nikki, Glick was pretty damned clear he wanted us out here.”

  Yes, she knew what Glick had said. What he had ordered her to do. But her gut was telling her something entirely different.

  “Stay here, Ruben, but I’m going in.”

  * * *

  Ugh, how much Ruben hated it when Nicole decided to pull a “Kent” and go all rogue.

  He really should call this into the Captain. He really should be doing a lot of things, instead he rose to join Nicole. No matter all that had happened between them and to them, they were still partners. He would still have her back, no matter what.

  Joshua went to ask a question, but Ruben held up a finger. “Just play it cool.”

  Which neither of the J’s was very good at, but Ruben could only hope. “If the Captain calls. We stepped out for a bite to eat.”

  “Of humble pie?” Jimmi asked.

  Ruben pointed directly at the Asian tech. “Cool, all right?”

  Joshua’s head bobbed up and down, but Jimmi’s lips were frozen in a frown. Ruben would deal with him later. No matter how this went, Ruben was probably looking at least a week’s suspension, without pay. Kent might be able to get away with crap like this, but not Nicole and him. Once Glick found out about this little off-script adventure, they would both be busted.

  Oh well, Ruben thought as he shut the van’s back door behind him. After being kidnapped by your psychopath fiancée, getting your chops busted by your Captain really wasn’t all that big a deal.

  “Hold up,” Ruben called out, trotting to catch up.

  “Don’t Ruben. I’m doing this,” Nicole snapped back.

  “I know,” Ruben replied, pulling up next to her. “I’m coming with you.”

  The irritation on Nicole’s features melted into something, not kind, definitely not appreciative, but at least not quite so pissed off at him.

  “All right, then.”
>
  They headed to the front of the rather long line to get into the club. It was the city’s newest hot spot.

  The bouncer put a hand up. “Sorry, you’ve got to go through the line just like everyone else.”

  Nicole slid her coat off to reveal a cocktail dress to end all cocktails dresses. It was low-backed, and by low-backed, Ruben meant it stopped just shy of being obscene. With a long glittering chain trailing down her backbone. And the front? Um, yikes. Ruben gulped and had to avert his eyes. Clearly the dress had been bought before Nicole started breastfeeding. The fabric barely contained her cleavage.

  The bouncer looked Nicole up and down, then unhooked the red velvet rope and allowed her passage. Nicole walked through and headed into the club. Ruben went to follow her, but the bouncer backed him off.

  “Sorry, dude, but we’ve got enough of your desperate type in there.”

  Ruben shouldn’t have been surprised. He didn’t have Kent’s sultry features. Instead he pulled his badge.

  “Oh, sorry, man, go on through,” the bouncer did a one-eighty on his attitude.

  Well, if you didn’t have the looks, you’d better have something up your sleeve.

  Ruben’s senses were assaulted as he walked into the club. Strobing lights, backlit wine bottles and a swatch of dancers on the floor made it hard to focus on any one thing. The music boomed with enough bass to satisfy Meghan Trainor. Which was seventy-five percent more than Ruben would have liked. The vibrations were forcing his spleen to bounce up and down to the beat.

  Not exactly a pleasant sensation.

  All and all this was exactly a type of target that Debbie Downer couldn’t resist.

  * * *

  Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off of Nicole for very obvious reasons. Two of them as a matter of fact.

  “Seriously, dude,” Jimmi said. “You are going to break the zoom feature.”

  Joshua ignored his friend. When Nicole put on a show, he watched.

  “What would Kent say right now?”

  “Kent isn’t here,” Joshua reminded Jimmi as he searched for other angles on Nicole and made sure they were recording them all.

  “You are so weird,” Jimmi grumbled and went back to doing facial recognition on all of the guests. There were three female undercover officers in there. All of whom could take some fashion tips from Nicole. And another two male undercover officers. Both of who were staring at Nicole instead of working the other patrons at the bar.

  Joshua had heard of The Rabbit Hole before, but thought the buzz was all hype and there was nothing Joshua hated more than a pretentious club, but The Rabbit Hole really was the real deal. The music was indie, without leaning hipster. The DJ was solid. Adding just enough of his personality to the mix without overshadowing the music.

  For once, Joshua wouldn’t have minded going into the field. Especially if Nicole was wearing that dress.

  “We’ve got movement at the back door,” one of the male officer’s stated over the speaker.

  Jimmi swung one of the security cameras in that direction. Sure enough two older patrons entered the bar. Joshua didn’t recognize either one of them. Jimmi quickly flipped through the footage that they had from previous crime scenes.

  Still no match.

  “I think… I think…” Jimmi stammered. “I think those are real old people.”

  “What?” Joshua asked, double checking Jimmi’s work. But it was true. Two, truly elderly people just walked into the hippest club in the city.

  What the hell?

  That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Startling both Jimmi and Joshua, the back door burst open and Glick entered the van. His eyes scanned the empty chairs. There was no reason to exchange words. Glick knew instantly what was happening.

  He sat down in one of the vacant seats. “So, catch me up.”

  Jimmi pointed to the screen. “We’ve got two seniors who just entered through the back exit.”

  “You mean young people disguised as old people?” Glick asked.

  Joshua shook his head. “No, by all biometric readings, they are actual old people.”

  Glick glared at him. “You mean elderly?”

  Right. Glick was getting pretty gray himself so he was a little twitchy around the “old” word.

  “Yes, yes,” Jimmi clarified. “They are genuinely advanced in age. That isn’t make-up and wigs.”

  Glick studied the screen for a few moments. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “No, no sir,” Joshua said. “We don’t think it is.”

  * * *

  Nicole flashed a little cleavage around. Kent had taught her well. Her left breast really did have magical properties. She just had to hope she didn’t leak any milk. Now that would be awkward, given the limited amount of fabric in this dress.

  Ruben was on the other side of the bar. Between them and the undercover cops, they pretty much had a good view of all the exits and bathroom doors.

  “Apparently you don’t seem to remember what a direct order is anymore,” a voice, a very familiar voice came over Nicole’s earpiece.

  “Sir,” Nicole whispered, but Glick cut her off.

  “Don’t bother. And don’t approach the new elderly couple in the back. I’m coming in.”

  There was nothing, absolutely nothing Nicole could do about her captain coming into the club. She glanced over the bar to find Ruben glaring at her. Yep, she’d gotten them both into it.

  But Glick out in the field. Nicole didn’t think the man had been out of the office on case since Plain Jane. And at that he was well announced. To just show up on a case? Unheard of. He must have had a sense that she might go rogue.

  She hated to disappoint her captain, but she had to follow her gut. Now she could see how Kent could get himself in so much trouble. She guessed with him in prison, she had to pick up the slack.

  That thought brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. Glick might be pissed, but Kent would be proud….whenever he got out of jail.

  * * *

  Ruben watched as Glick entered the club. To say he stuck out a bit was to say a polar bear had just walked into the desert.

  From his suit, to his haircut, to his walk, Glick was all cop, all the time. He was everything that Ruben aspired to be. And here he’d gone and followed Nicole into insubordination. She was his siren. He’d tried to fight it, but it was no use. Where she led, he would follow. Right into Glick’s bad graces.

  The Captain had a scowl on his face. Just one more thing to set him apart of the rest of the club goers. Everyone else was on a high. Either chemical or dance induced.

  Glick pretty much made a beeline to the elderly couple in the back of the club. They had set up about as far away from the speakers as they could.

  Ruben surveyed the rest of the club. It seemed like an average Friday night. No sign of the Downers.

  Glick spent a few minutes talking to the couple, then led them to the back door.

  Ruben kept his head down as his Captain walked over to him and took up the seat to his right.

  “They were given VIP passes anonymously and given free drink vouchers.”

  Ruben nodded. “So a diversion?”

  “Maybe next time, you’ll listen to me,” Glick stated.

  Yes, maybe next time he would. Either they spooked Debbie Downer or did exactly as the serial killers wanted, showing up at the club.

  “Any word about another hot spot hit?” Ruben asked.

  Glick shook his head, calling over the bartender. “An Old Fashioned, please.”

  The goateed bartender looked the Captain up and down. “Fitting.”

  Waving off the young man, Glick turned back to Ruben. “They are toying with us.”

  Ruben couldn’t argue.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have sent Kent to prison.”

  Again, Ruben couldn’t exactly argue.

  * * *

  Joshua hated to eavesdrop, but um, it was kind of his job. Glick was giving Ruben one of his patented, “
you need to learn to stand up to Nicole” speeches. Like that was going to change anything. Ruben was about as whipped as a guy could get and they weren’t even a couple.

  Besides, Joshua noticed that Glick wasn’t over there talking to Nicole. It might have been all that exposed cleavage. Joshua knew he wouldn’t be verbal if he sat across from her.

  “You going to work or what?” Jimmi asked, his typing sounding almost like a melody.

  They were tasked with running down who had delivered the VIP passes to the older couple. First they had to clear the older couple, make sure it wasn’t a ruse, but they were squeaky clean and had only recently moved to the state. They were about a thousand miles away when the first Debbie Downer murders occurred. Plus, for half the murders they were at their church’s nightly bingo game. Only the offer of free liquor had tempted them away from their game.

  Everything was turning up dead-ends. Just like every other Debbie Downer lead. The cult had sacrificed two members just to set up a fake crime scene. How messed up was that?

  Pretty messed up, and Joshua had seen a lot of serial killers.

  “How is Kent?” Joshua asked. In the van they didn’t have nearly the same screen space as they did back in the media lab. Kent’s live feed had to be relegated to the back burner.

  Jimmi brought the cell feed up on the main monitor. “The usual.”

  Joshua gulped. To see his idol incarcerated nearly tore his heart out. They had to get him out of there. If for no other reason than to stop Debbie Downer. And make his sleep a little lighter.

  A door opened and shut in the front of the van. There was a metal partition between them and the cab which housed their driver and shotgun officer, who was literally carrying a shotgun.

  Then the van revved to life.

  “What the --”

  Jimmi and Joshua were thrown off their seats, as the van peeled out away from the curb.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Help!” a shout pounded into Nicole’s ear. The scream was cut off halfway.

  Nicole stood up abruptly, making the man she had been chatting up spill his drink on himself. “Joshua!” It had to have been Joshua. The only other person she knew who could scream that high-pitched was little Logan.

  Ruben and Glick were up as well, heading to the front exit. The undercover officers rose. Everyone headed to the front of the club when her call gave no response.