The Mirror Stage (The Imago Trilogy Book 1)

by J. J. Stone

  After joining the BAU, Dade had quickly risen to “right-hand man” status with lead agent James Deacon. As soon as he joined the team, Dade had felt an unspoken understanding between him and the lead agent. They were both around the same age, had the same work ethic, and had similar backgrounds. They even looked somewhat similar. Both men were Caucasian, over six feet tall and physically fit with strong facial features. Their only difference was personality. Dade had never met a stranger in his life. James was more concerned with solving cases than acting civilly.

  Dade sensed that this certain character flaw was about to rear its ugly head as he and James stood in the morgue waiting room. They had been waiting there for nearly half an hour while Tina’s family identified her body. Dade had winced when he heard Tina’s mother’s faint yet distinct wails as she viewed her daughter rooms away. Even after almost eight years with the bureau, those cries still made his blood run cold.

  James, on the other hand, seemed genuinely put off by how long the family was taking in the viewing room. Dade wondered if today was going to be the day he lost his job for decking his insensitive superior.

  The wide double doors swung open and the coroner gently ushered Tina’s parents out into the waiting room. Dade tried not to look at the mother.

  “As soon as the FBI releases Tina’s body, we’ll notify the funeral home,” the coroner said to Tina’s father.

  The father cast a slightly irked look at James and Dade. “How long is that going to take?” he hissed.

  Dade felt his fist clench in his pocket as he braced himself for James’s response. Thankfully, the coroner herded the parents to the exit before James had a chance to reply.

  “I’m sorry about the wait, gentlemen. You never know how long identifications might take,” the coroner said as he motioned the two agents further into the morgue.

  “Have you completed the autopsy yet?” James asked as they entered the chilly morgue locker room. Tina’s body lay on a table in the center of the room, covered in a crisp white sheet.

  “Just this morning,” the coroner replied as he pulled back the sheet from Tina’s face. “I’ve sent everything into the lab, so I should have test results back in the next seventy-two hours.”

  Dade lifted one corner of the sheet with a gloved hand. “How beat up was she?”

  “Pretty badly. Substantial bruising all over her body. Her left wrist was fractured, she’s missing almost all of her fingernails, and her jaw was broken on the right side of her face. There is evidence of sexual assault. I wasn’t able to locate any DNA evidence, unfortunately.”

  “How badly did the water contaminate evidence?” James asked.

  The coroner shook his head. “She wasn’t in the water very long. Maybe an hour or so before she was found.”

  James pulled on a glove and tilted Tina’s head to the side. “Were her injuries antemortem?”

  “From what I can tell right now, yes.”

  James squatted down next to the table and tilted his head slightly. “What do you make of this mark behind her ear?” he asked the coroner.

  Dade bent down behind James to get a better look. “It looks like some kind of scratch. Almost like an animal did it.”

  James shook his head. “The marks are too precise.” He looked up at the coroner. “Did you look for any animal hairs or claw fragments?”

  “I didn’t need to. These marks were made by an instrument, not something biological.”

  James bent the top of Tina’s right ear down and studied the marks. He tapped his teeth together and stood after a few moments. “I wonder ...” he murmured.

  Dade studied him, trying to gauge whatever was racing through James’s head. “What’re you thinking?” he asked.

  James ignored him and nodded at the morgue lockers on the wall in front of them. “Did any of the others have marks like this?”

  “Not that I could see,” the coroner replied, “Honestly, though, I almost didn’t see the marks on her,” he motioned at Tina, “One of my assistants saw it.”

  James’s jaw tightened and Dade prepared for the string of profanity about to spill from his boss’s mouth. “Well, let’s check,” was all that came out from behind James’s slightly clenched teeth. Dade struggled to hide his surprise.

  The coroner nodded and set about opening all the other victims’ lockers. After examining the other victims, James yanked off his gloves, tossed them in the trash, and pulled out his phone.

  “Got something?” Dade asked.

  James ignored him as he put the phone to his ear. “Brenda, it’s me. Tell Miss Brandt I need her to come down to the morgue,” James said. He listened to Brenda’s response and mild fury crept into his eyes. “Well, tell her she’s not in a position to be drawing boundary lines. She’s an analyst. Get her down here as soon as possible.”

  “Miss Brandt?” Dade asked as James shoved the phone back in his pocket. “What happened to getting Janice out here?”

  “Janice is still recuperating from her surgery, so I needed to get a replacement,” James replied.

  Dade scanned James’s face for any sign of worry about Janice Otto, the team’s usual analyst. Nothing.

  “Is Janice going to be all right?” Dade prodded.

  James shrugged at him, clearly annoyed at his persistence. “She’s fine. It was just knee surgery.”

  For someone who shares hotel rooms with her, you could show a little concern, Dade chided in his head but outwardly just nodded.

  James frowned at him for a moment then pulled on a new pair of gloves.

  _____

  “You know you need to let Dean Bridges in on what you’re doing, right?” Tiffany asked as she and Ada carted their lunches down to Ada’s office.

  Ada groaned. “I didn’t even think about that.” She tossed her fast food bag onto her desk. “I mean, I’m just reviewing files and doing some research. Does he really need to know about that?”

  “Look, I know the dean still scares you,” Tiffany said, nimbly deflecting the pencil Ada sent flying at her head, “but this isn’t some minor little side project. This is a federal investigation.”

  “I know, I know,” Ada sighed. She took a swig of her soda and pulled a french fry from the bag. She chewed it thoughtfully as she stared off into space.

  “I’m actually pretty jealous that you get to do this,” Tiffany confessed as she unwrapped her chicken sandwich and took the first bite.

  Ada’s brow rose. “Jealous? Why? It’ll probably be like grad school all over again.”

  “I don’t know. I mean how many opportunities do we get to actually put all this,” Tiffany tapped the side of her head, “to good use?” She took another bite of her sandwich and gave Ada a coy smile. “Not to mention, you get to hang around attractive FBI agents.”

  Ada pulled a disgusted face and nibbled another fry. “One, I’m doing this because I want to get Tina’s family some answers.”

  Tiffany sobered at that and nodded.

  “Two,” Ada said quickly, trying to lighten the mood, “I’m going to be sitting at home doing all this ‘analyst’ stuff. And three,” she waggled a fry at Tiffany, “of the FBI agents that I’ve met, none would be categorized as ‘attractive.’” At that, she popped the fry in her mouth.

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Please. I know exactly who James Deacon is. I actually watch the news.” She couldn’t move fast enough to miss the second pencil rocketing her way. It smacked her in the shoulder but she continued on. “He’s hot, even you can’t deny that.”

  “Well, his personality kills any shred of attractiveness.” Ada washed the fry down with a quick sip of her drink. “Seriously, Tiff, the man is a Grade A douche.”

  “They’re often the most fun,” Tiffany said coyly.

  “I’m going have to disagree with you on that one,
” Brenda interrupted suddenly.

  Tiffany and Ada simultaneously flinched and tossed startled looks at the agent. Ada glanced at the clock and then groaned. “Brenda, I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time.”

  Brenda held up a hand and walked into the room with a stack of impeccably labeled files. “I brought copies of everything I figured you’d want to look at first.”

  Ada took the sizable stack from Brenda. “Yay, homework.”

  Brenda smiled and turned slightly to Tiffany. “For the record, I never said this. But Ada’s opinion of Agent Deacon is pretty spot on.”

  Ada chuckled. “See?” Brenda was fast becoming less of a pain.

  Tiffany shook her head sadly and balled up her empty sandwich wrapper. “Personal experience, Agent?” she asked Brenda.

  Brenda chuckled. “No. No way. I’ve just been around him long enough to have an educated opinion.”

  “Mmhmm, OK,” Tiffany mused. “Well, I’ll let you two talk. I need to get my notes together for Historical Lit class.” She paused on her way out and looked at Brenda. “Tiffany, by the way.”

  “Brenda,” the agent greeted.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Brenda. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Tiffany waved to Ada. “Try to have some fun!” she called on her way out.

  “Sorry about her. She doesn’t really have a filter,” Ada said. She motioned Brenda to take a seat then began digging through the first file. “So, what do you need help with the most?”

  Brenda scooted to the edge of the chair she was sitting in and crossed her legs. “Well, it’s not in that pile,” she said.

  Ada gave her a curious look. “OK?”

  “I know you’ve already stated your feelings on the matter,” Brenda said, “but I’m afraid you’re going to have to make an exception to your ‘no on-the-job’ rule.”

  Ada slapped the file shut and placed it back on the pile. “Why?”

  “Agent Deacon wouldn’t say. He and Agent Wylan are at the county morgue and Agent Deacon requested that I bring you down there to check something out.”

  Morgue. Ada despised the word and hated the actual place even more. “Surely he can just send me pictures or something,” Ada said. “There’s no reason I need to go all the way down there—”

  “Besides the fact the lead agent of the BAU asked you to come?” Brenda demanded.

  Ada packed up her satchel. “I highly doubt he asked. Stomped his foot and ordered, more like.”

  Brenda had no reply. She watched Ada slide her laptop into her bag. “So, that’s a no?” She wearily pulled out her phone.

  “Tell him he can email pictures, and I’ll look at them as soon as I get home,” Ada said. “And if that’s a problem, he can call me.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Brenda stood and followed Ada out of her office.

  _____

  It was almost midnight. Brenda’s neat pile of FBI folders was now a disheveled mess strewn across Ada’s bed. For the past four hours Ada had poured over every document. Her brain and back were insisting she call it a night. She rubbed her burning eyes and ran through her mental to-do list. Student papers sat neglected in her satchel. She couldn’t remember if Tiny had gotten a dinner. She couldn’t remember if she had gotten a dinner. Her mind was unable to process anything other than the four murders littering her bed.

  Ada had settled on her bed four hours prior not really sure what she was even looking for. She had never seen a case in its infancy. She’d done hours of in-depth, hands-on research while in college, but that was of closed cases and just to write a few papers. Now, lives had been lost, more lives were at stake, and she had a part in figuring out how to get a step ahead of the killer. “Daunting” did not even begin to describe the weight pressing down on her mind and shoulders.

  Her phone buzzed, and for a moment Ada had no idea where it was. She finally found it under a folder of crime scene photos. She opened the text message.

  I just emailed you a few photos from Agent Deacon. You owe me big time. I didn’t know veins could pop that much on a human head.

  Ada was quickly learning to appreciate Brenda’s sense of humor. She felt a momentary pang of guilt at placing Brenda before the firing squad that was James Deacon’s temper.

  Groaning as she stretched out her cramped legs, Ada slid off her bed and retrieved her laptop. She climbed back onto the bed as she opened the laptop and pulled up her email.

  Brenda’s email was waiting with a zip file of images. When Ada unzipped the file, images of carved flesh suddenly filled her screen. She shut her eyes for a moment, caught off guard. Snapping back into analyst mode, she leaned toward her laptop screen and studied the markings.

  Within a few minutes of studying, it dawned on her what the markings might be. She picked her phone up again and called Brenda.

  “That was fast,” Brenda answered, the fatigue evident in her voice, even over the phone.

  “I have an idea of what the marks might be.”

  Brenda cleared her throat. “You would have a breakthrough right in the middle of my very short sleep break.”

  Ada felt a tug of guilt again. “I’m sorry. I just looked at the photos, and I wanted to let you know what I thought. I didn’t know how important my analysis was.” She could hear herself rambling.

  “Well, let’s hear it,” Brenda said. “What do you think the marks are?”

  Ada pulled up one of the images and double-checked before replying. “They look like tally marks. Like the killer is keeping a running total of victims.”

  “That was Agent Deacon’s thought, too. Any idea why this guy is putting them in a different place each time?”

  “He has to have a reason. Maybe to throw off the coroner? Honestly, I’m not sure. I just know that those definitely look like tally marks.”

  “Which strengthens the connection between victims.” Brenda paused for what sounded like a yawn. “I’ll let Agent Deacon know.”

  “Don’t you get tired of having to say ‘Agent’ all the time?”

  “I try to be professional at all times.” Brenda chuckled. “It does get old, though.”

  “Well you don’t have to be all uptight around me,” Ada replied. “I won’t tell on you.”

  “In that case, I’ll let Deacon know what your thoughts are. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me tomorrow.”

  Ada closed her laptop lid and tossed it to the other side of the bed. “Oh joy,” she sneered.

  “Have a good night, Ada,” Brenda said as she ended the call.

  Ada grinned and tossed her phone next to the laptop. She took in the chaos around her and let out a heaving sigh. “This is nuts,” she muttered.

  _____

  “To finally getting the man of your dreams!” Bethany shouted to Melissa as she and her small circle of friends raised their shot glasses in unison then tossed them back in one gulp.

  Melissa, recently engaged to her high school sweetheart, blushed and smiled at her friends. “You guys are the best. Thanks for coming down here to celebrate with me.”

  Everyone was quick to lean in and blow air kisses at the bride-to-be. Keeping at the edge of the group, Lana Rames sipped at her water and made sure to keep a smile plastered on her lips. Jealousy had threatened to rear its ugly head more than once so far. So what that Melissa was marrying the man of Lana’s dreams? That’s how the cards had fallen. Time to buck up and be an adult.

  Bethany stepped up behind Lana and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Thanks for being a team player,” she whispered, as if reading Lana’s mind. “I know Melissa is thrilled you’re here. And I’m sure David appreciates you keeping your little secret from his fiancé.”

  Lana threw a glance at Melissa, who was downing another shot. “You really don’t think David ever told her about me
and him?”

  “I doubt it. I mean, it was just a couple of weekends, Lana, not a big deal.” Bethany noticed the downcast look on Lana’s face. “Right?” she pushed.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Lana breathed and downed another gulp of water.

  Bethany could see the pain in Lana’s eyes and felt bad for the poor girl. “Hey, I was coming over here to tell you,” she placed her hand on Lana’s chin and turned her head toward the center of the night club, “that you have an admirer.”

  Lana caught sight of someone leaning against a wall across the room. His face was hidden by a ball cap, but he was definitely pointed in her direction. “Really?” Lana asked, unsure.

  “Um, yes. He’s been looking at you since we got here,” Bethany said. She nudged Lana up out of her seat. “Go say hi!” she said, giving her a playful shove.

  Lana shot Bethany a dirty look but steeled herself then weaved through the crowd toward the mysterious man.

  Bethany watched as Lana walked up to the man. The two started talking and within a few minutes they were walking out of the club. “Get it, girl,” Bethany called out to Lana.

  Lana snuck Bethany a small wave as she and the man walked out the front door.

  _____

  “It’s so nice out tonight!” Lana said, trying to start up some kind of conversation. This guy was not much of a talker. He had urged her to step outside, maybe to somewhere quieter so they could talk, but hadn’t said much since they’d left the nightclub.

  “Yeah, it is,” the man muttered. He walked with his hands dug deep in his pockets, his head down slightly.

  “I just realized I never told you my name!” Lana exclaimed, “I’m Lana.”

  The man tilted his head toward her and Lana caught sight of a stubble-covered chin and pointed nose. The street lights were dim and the ball cap threw a shadow over his eyes. “John.” he replied.

  “Nice to meet you, John,” Lana grinned. She surveyed their surroundings for a moment. The sidewalk was oddly deserted and the shoddy street lamps aided the increasingly ominous vibe. “Where are we walking to, exactly? You said something about a pub?”