Kiss Me, Kill Me lk-2

by Allison Brennan

  “Hi, Jill. It’s Special Agent Suzanne Madeaux from New York. Can I ask you a few more questions?”

  “Sure.”

  “During our investigation, we’ve been looking into the past relationships of each victim, to see if there is any connection. You indicated that Alanna didn’t have a boyfriend, or anyone who made her uncomfortable, when she was killed, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about a past boyfriend?”

  “I told the detective that none of her boyfriends were mad at her or anything.”

  “Were you aware of Alanna’s relationship with Wade Barnett?”

  “Yeah, but why? You don’t think he killed her? Wade?” She sounded skeptical.

  “When did they first start seeing each other?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” she said slowly. “Is it important?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I think they met that summer Alanna stayed with her cousin. Alanna was really secretive about it, probably because he was so much older.”

  Suzanne counted back. Alanna would have been seventeen, Barnett twenty-three.

  Jill continued. “I know they were really serious when we first moved to New York, about a week before classes started. Like for two months they were inseparable.”

  “Do you know why they broke up?”

  “No.”

  “You were her best friend.”

  “She wouldn’t talk about it.”

  “A witness told me he cheated on her.”

  “Well, cheated how?”

  “Had sex with another woman?”

  “That wouldn’t bother her.”

  Suzanne didn’t believe it. “Her rich, handsome, older boyfriend cheating on her wouldn’t have fazed her?”

  “They had a sort of open relationship.”

  “You’re going to have to explain that.”

  “Well, an open relationship means-”

  “I know what an open relationship is. Why did you qualify it with ‘sort of’?”

  “At the parties they went to, people had sex with strangers. It was just the thing, and Alanna and Wade used to play these sex games. It’s like they were both addicted to it, but they still loved each other. But they had an agreement that it was open only at the raves.”

  “So if he had sex outside of a rave then that was cheating.”

  “Yeah. But Alanna never gave me a reason for the breakup specifically. I think she was hurt, whatever it was, then she convinced me to go to the Haunted House. And that’s-” Jill’s throat hitched. “But Wade sent her this letter and apologized for being a jerk.”

  “You read the letter?”

  “No, just a couple lines.”

  “Do you have it? Is it with Alanna’s things?”

  “She tore it up. Oh! She said something when she threw the pieces away. She said she could tolerate a lot, but not lying.”

  “That helps, thank you.”

  Suzanne wrapped up that call, then talked to Jessica Bell’s roommate. Lauren had heard Jessica mention she knew Wade Barnett, but she’d never met him and didn’t think that Jessica was involved with him.

  She tried Alanna’s cousin Whitney Morrissey, but her voice mail came on. Suzanne left a message, giving her cell phone number since she planned to be in the field, and looked at the clock. It was already after four and she had a hundred things to do. She saw a text message on her cell phone from Sean Rogan. Damn, he’d called her while she was eating lunch and she’d said she’d call him back. That was two hours ago.

  We’ll meet you at your office.

  She dialed his number.

  “Rogan.”

  “It’s Suzanne Madeaux. Sorry, I’m about to leave-I should have called you back. I have interviews all day; just tell me over-”

  He interrupted. “Lucy and I will be there in ten minutes. You’ll want to see what we found.”

  Irritation flared, but she tried to keep it out of her tone. “Sean, I appreciate your help, but unless it’s directly related to the Strangler investigation, it’s going to have to wait.”

  “It is. See you in a few minutes.”

  He hung up. She stared at the phone, then slammed it down in the cradle.

  “If you break another phone, Facilities is going to charge you,” the squad secretary said as she approached Suzanne’s desk.

  “It’s justified,” she said.

  “You have a call from Washington on line four. It sounded important.”

  “Thanks. Oh, call down to security and tell them to escort Sean Rogan and Lucy Kincaid up when they get here. They’re apparently coming by with information they won’t tell me on the phone.” Her phone rang and she picked up the receiver again, looking at it carefully to make sure she hadn’t cracked it. “Agent Madeaux, Violent Crimes.”

  “Agent Madeaux, this is Assistant Director Hans Vigo from D.C. I hope this isn’t a bad time?”

  Suzanne automatically said, “No, of course not,” while her mind raced through all the reasons why an assistant director would be calling her, and why the name Hans Vigo sounded familiar. She had evidence at the lab on not only her current case, but several others; she had a case going to trial in three weeks and was awaiting expert testimony confirmation; then there was … Hans Vigo. Profiler. Lucy Kincaid had mentioned him yesterday.

  All that ran through her mind in less than five seconds.

  Vigo said, “I’ve been reading about your serial killer investigation and wanted to offer my assistance if you require it.”

  “Um, great, thanks.” She was flustered by the call, but recovered quickly. “We have a suspect in custody, and I’m confident that BSU can handle any psych profile we might need for trial.”

  “Of course, we have a terrific team down at Quantico. They told me you’d requested a profile a few weeks ago.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t have lot of my evidence at that time.”

  “Lee told me there wasn’t enough information for a good profile, but if you have additional evidence now, please send it down.”

  “Dr. Vigo, may I ask why you have an interest in this case?”

  “I had a call this morning about it, and it’s unusual enough that it intrigued me.”

  Suzanne moved from simmering to boiling anger, but tried to keep it out of her voice. “Would that call have been from Lucy Kincaid?”

  She must not have done a good enough job, because Vigo’s tone changed slightly from friendly to formal. “Ms. Kincaid called about another matter, and told me she was in New York.”

  Just how connected was this young wannabe FBI agent? “And talked about my case? With all due respect, Dr. Vigo, I have ten years’ experience working cases just like this one, and I have one of the highest clearance rates in the Bureau.” She didn’t want to sound defensive, but she did. She backtracked a bit and added, “I appreciate your insight, and Ms. Kincaid seems like a smart woman, but if I fly off in ten different directions at once I’ll never be able to logically put this case together.”

  “I agree,” he said. “I’ve looked at some of your cases, and your methodical approach to serial murders is outstanding. I certainly prefer such a straightforward method of investigation. Nine times out of ten it gets you exactly where you need to be to close the case.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She didn’t have to wait long for the but she expected-even though he didn’t use the word.

  “Occam’s razor-specifically, the principle of parsimony-suggests that the simplest explanation is more often the correct one. In crime analysis, we’ve seen this proven time and time again-and it’s why we look first to the husband when a wife is murdered, or to a male relative when a child is molested, for example.

  “Behavioral science-profiling-works because we have a long history of crime and punishment in this country,” Vigo said. “We can look at what has occurred in the past and why, and coupled with our knowledge of human psychology determine-with amazing accuracy-the most likely victim type, or killer, in violent crimes,
particularly serial crimes.

  “In some cases, a killer defies conventional wisdom,” Vigo continued. “We focus on the obvious because in our training, the obvious is usually correct. When a woman is raped, we look to male offenders. When black women are killed, we look to a black offender. When four young women are killed at a party, we look to a male offender who knew all of them.”

  Suzanne responded slowly. “Are you suggesting that I’m wrong about my primary suspect?”

  “No, of course not. Clearly, Wade Barnett had the means and opportunity, and because he knew all four women he likely has motive, even if it’s unclear without more evidence or a confession what that might be. I’d just suggest that while you’re continuing to put together your case against him, you also continue working with the assumption that he’s innocent.”

  Suzanne didn’t quite know what to say. “Dr. Vigo, my methods have never been questioned by headquarters. Perhaps you should be talking to my supervisor.”

  “I’m so sorry, Agent Madeaux, I didn’t mean to sound critical. And sometimes I’m a bit tactless-I should have considered that we haven’t worked together before, and calling you up out of the blue must seem like I’m taking over the case. I’m still getting used to my title-titles make me nervous.”

  “Do you think I have the wrong guy?” she asked bluntly.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  Suzanne’s mood turned dark. “I’ll send you everything I have, Dr. Vigo.”

  “Thank you, Agent Madeaux.”

  “I guess I should thank you.”

  “I’ve been wrong before.”

  He didn’t sound like he was wrong often. “I’m not releasing him.” She didn’t think she was wrong about Wade Barnett, but one thing Vigo said had stuck with her.

  We look to a male offender who knew all of them.

  Offender. There was nothing in Wade Barnett’s background that showed violence against women. Not one accusation of rape or abuse, or a dismissed case. He was known to be a ladies’ man, a different woman on his arm all the time. Yet Suzanne couldn’t forget the photo mug of Barnett and Alanna Andrews that he kept in his drawer.

  On the other hand, why didn’t he come forward? He had to have known the girl he had once cared about was dead.

  “Of course not,” Hans said. “Keep him where he is. He may be guilty.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “I appreciate your taking my call, Suzanne. If anything jumps out at me when I receive the reports, I’ll call you.”

  She gave him her cell phone number and hung up.

  Suzanne didn’t know what to make of the conversation, and didn’t have time to think about it because security buzzed her to say that Rogan and Kincaid were here and where would she like to put them?

  Her ego wanted to tell the guard to lock them up, but instead she said, “Conference 22C.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  As soon as Lucy stepped into the conference room, she knew something had happened to change Suzanne’s attitude. She was cool and off-putting, and Lucy wished she knew why. Was it because Sean hadn’t asked if they could come by? Lucy didn’t think that was a good enough reason, considering that when they’d called earlier, Suzanne had promised to call back in thirty minutes.

  Still, this was a complex case and she was busy, and if Lucy understood anything about cops after living in a family full of them, it was that they didn’t like to be bossed around. And Sean could be bossy.

  So Lucy started the conversation off by saying, “We’re sorry to drop in like this, but we think the information we found might help.”

  Suzanne nodded. “By all means. I’m yours.”

  Her easygoing tone contradicted her physical tension. Sean noticed; it was a subtle shift in his own posture that Lucy didn’t think Suzanne noticed. Suddenly, Lucy felt that she was in the middle of a silent battle.

  Sean said, “A Hunter College student found Kirsten Benton’s cell phone at the abandoned warehouse during the party. He forgot about it and found it this morning. I retrieved it, and I talked to him about Kirsten. In the course of our conversation, I asked if he knew who Wade Barnett was. He did, and confirmed that he was at the Sunset Park warehouse the night Jessica died. He left around three a.m. with an unknown woman.”

  Suzanne nodded. “So I understand that you interviewed a witness about my primary suspect in a capital murder case.”

  Lucy’s stomach flipped.

  Sean said, “You could say that, but it was ancillary to my search for a missing minor.” He slid over a copy of Kirsten’s text messages from the thirty-six-hour period before Jessica was killed. “I downloaded her text messages and put them in chronological order along with other facts, including phone calls she’d made. Read the last two pages.”

  Suzanne picked up the packet, skimmed the opening pages, then read where Sean indicated.

  Suzanne frowned. “Is this accurate?”

  “You noticed the change in messaging.”

  “It’s obvious.”

  Sean nodded. “Someone else sent Kirsten that last message. And that person only knew her by her Party Girl name.”

  Lucy said, “We know she used the name whenever she came to New York-both Josh Haynes and Lauren Madrid knew her only as Ashleigh. But Jessica knew her real name.”

  “Maybe they were in their roles?” Suzanne said, though by her tone she didn’t believe it.

  “I think it’s clear that this gives you a good window for time of death,” Sean said.

  Suzanne didn’t say anything, but made a few notes on the packet.

  Lucy said, “In Kirsten’s message to her ex-boyfriend on Thursday, she said that there was something about the text that was wrong, and I think even through the haze of whatever drugs she was on, she noticed that Jessica called her ‘Ash,’ that it wasn’t written in their usual shorthand.”

  “Thank you,” Suzanne said. “Is that it?”

  Lucy nodded, but she was antsy. She thought that Suzanne and she had gotten off to a good start yesterday, and then this morning she was talking about dinner. “We’re sorry to take up so much of your time. You’re obviously busy, so if we need to cancel dinner to pitch in and help, we’d be glad to.”

  Suzanne looked confused for a moment, then said, “Look, I appreciated your help yesterday. We’re working two different cases that happen to overlap. I can’t tell you to stop looking for Kirsten Benton, but apparently you have enough clout to bring in the brass over my head.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sean said.

  Suzanne stared at Lucy. “She does.”

  It came clear to Lucy. “You called Hans and he told you I discussed the case with him. I wasn’t second-guessing-”

  “I didn’t call Washington. When I arrested Barnett this morning, getting a profile of a killer I had in jail was the last thing on my mind. But now I have to. I have dozens of potential witnesses to interview, but when an assistant director at national headquarters calls and asks for something, however nicely he does it, I have to spend my time putting it together.”

  “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know Hans would call.”

  “Hans? Really? You’re on a first-name basis. You could have clued me in earlier that you have connections.”

  “Any connections I might have aren’t important. I didn’t try to pull one over on you. I’m not even an agent.”

  “Yeah, but you act like one. I’d love to have your help because obviously, you two know what you’re doing. But I got blindsided today and feel like a damn rookie again.”

  “Please believe me, Suzanne, I didn’t know Hans was going to call. I wish he hadn’t.”

  Suzanne let out a long, pent-up sigh. “I’m glad he did,” she said, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “I don’t think I’m wrong about Wade Barnett, but-I’m not one hundred percent convinced he’s a killer. I have thirty-six hours to get convinced, because he’s going to be arraigned on Monday, and if he’s guilty, I have to
convince the U.S. Attorney to remand him into custody. No judge is going to let him sit in prison for lying to me. We could push and get a conviction, but he’s not going to do time for it. If he’s guilty, I don’t want him on the streets. But if he’s not guilty, I need to find the killer before someone else dies.”

  Sean said, “I’ve served as a civilian consultant in the past. I have clearance; you can contact Washington.”

  Suzanne considered his offer. She said to Lucy, “Do you know what Dr. Vigo needs for a profile?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “I need to make a call. Stay here.” Suzanne walked out.

  Sean turned to Lucy. “You didn’t tell me you talked to Hans about this case.”

  “Something was bothering me about it, and Hans knew exactly what it was after I explained everything.”

  “What?”

  “That suffocation is a feminine way to kill.”

  “Which means what exactly? That a woman is the killer?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Hans agreed that while the murders were intimate, they weren’t sexual. There was no violence.”

  “No violence?” Sean questioned.

  “No excessive violence. The victims were weak, compliant. The killer held them while they died. And that’s the other big red flag.”

  “Why?”

  “Because whoever killed those women watched them die. Suffocation isn’t quick.”

  “Shit, that’s sadistic.”

  Suzanne returned with a dark, curly-haired female in her late thirties. “This is Andie Swann, the best of the best on our Evidence Response Team.”

  Andie rolled her eyes. “I pay Suzanne for compliments.”

  “What? In beer?” Suzanne laughed. She tossed Sean and Lucy two badges. No photo, but their names were printed on the cards. “Now if you need to take a leak, you don’t have to call in security to escort you. Andie is going to babysit you, however, because I’m responsible for these files. She’s also smart and has been my evidence coordinator from the beginning of the joint task force, so pick her brain.”

  Lucy asked, “What do you want us to do?”