by Trisha Wolfe
The air is alive with tension as the sudden, stark silence charges the room.
“Avery Johnson is a top medical examiner in her field. She’s worked with the ACPD for more than five years, and what’s more, she’s family.” A rumble of acknowledgement flows through the room. “We’re bringing her home.”
Quinn adjusts his stance, getting into his leader mode. I have to admit, he’s good at it. “Avery disappeared sometime between the night before last and early this morning. She’s presumed to have been missing for at least ten hours. We know the next twenty-four hours of this case is crucial. Therefore, we do not sleep, eat, drink, piss, or shit until we have a break in this case. And we’re going to follow Agent Bonds’ profile to the letter.” He glances over at her and nods.
My heart jumps into my throat as Sadie takes the floor. She’s tiny compared to Quinn, but every inch of her radiates authority. She’s wearing the dress she had on last night, with my leather jacket zipped up to conceal most of it.
“The UNSUB we’re hunting was once part of a partnership,” she begins. “A killing team. He built his original identity on the foundation of that bond, and therefore feels out of sorts working alone. It’s the reason he devolved so rapidly once he started the killing cycle again. He’s seeking a connection with another individual in which he can rebuild that team dynamic.”
Her gaze settles on me for a brief second, her eyes harboring the truth of her words. The UNSUB has already found someone to try to form that relationship with. Sadie. This has all been to gain her attention, and in a warped manner, her approval. In some morbid way, this guy looks at it like foreplay. My back teeth grind.
“He was dependent on his mentor, and the loss of that relationship caused an upset which manifested in identity confusion,” she continues. “His methodology evolved as he tried to discover his own style without a teacher. We see that result in his copycat approach to an ideal serial killer.”
A hand goes up, and Sadie nods to the officer. “Why did the UNSUB select the Blood Countess, Agent Bonds? There’re so many other serial killers to choose from. Do we have insight into a connection there?”
My discomfort reflects Quinn’s tense form.
Sadie lifts her head a notch higher. “That’s a question of the chicken and the egg.” At the confused grumble echoing around the room, she clarifies. “Did the UNSUB first select Bathory to emulate, then seek out a connection? Or did he search within our department first to establish a correlation?” She takes a breath. “Truthfully, I’m not sure. The only thing I know positively is that he is a narcissist who must control his environment. My knowledge and expertise on the Bathory murders gave him the foothold he needed to build upon. Once that connection within the department was made, he used it as his narcissistic supply. What better way to garner attention than to tap directly into the source?
“Pathological narcissists have a grandiose sense of self. Their need for admiration outweighs their every other need, and their lack of empathy means others will suffer because of it. Our UNSUB is a malignant narcissist who seeks omnipotence, and will attempt to achieve this by any means. He must be in control. Therefore, our authority is a direct threat to him.”
Notes are jotted down while this information resonates.
“The UNSUB is comfortable in victims’ homes, as well as outside in the open. He’s a psychopathic sexual sadist who uses a victim’s home—her place of shelter and safety—against her to dominate her in her own element and increase her fear.
“This particular deviant offender is organized and methodical, but because he needs to be seen in a god-like manner, he suffers to maintain his own delusion. He’s structured his world by a set of rituals that he must fulfill to keep his delusion sound. His fiction involving the Countess Bathory ties him to this department, and the abduction of Avery—an insider to us—stresses his desire to overthrow what he views as the ultimate authority and make it his own.”
Another hand goes up. “Where do we start looking?”
Sadie rolls her shoulders. “Offenders who suffer from this specific narcissism are prone to work in economics, politics, and even medicine. Pathological or malignant narcissists are also drawn to careers in law. Such as lawyers…or law enforcement itself.” Tension thrums heavily among the body of officers. “Because of his inside knowledge on the workings of this department, it’s not an assumption that he has direct access. Either to someone here, or as a member himself.”
Of all people, Detective Carson speaks up. “But couldn’t he be obtaining his information from the leak? I mean, just about the whole world has insider knowledge now thanks to that.”
Carson. That smug asshole feels he’s above raising his hand. If anyone in this department fits the profile, it’s that douchebag.
Sadie seems to agree as she cuts her eyes at him, but she quickly checks herself. “If he’s not working directly with the ACPD, then yes, he could likely be in contact with the leak.”
Carson jumps in again. “Then if we find the leak, we can locate the UNSUB, right? Why aren’t we profiling the leak, Agent Bonds? Seems just as logical.”
“Our effort is best spent on discovering the identity of the UNSUB, Detective Carson. We need all focus on him and bringing Avery back alive.” She presses on before Carson can interrupt. “Which leads us to the next leg of this investigation. Deducing what we know from his previous partner.”
“Wait,” Carson says, standing. “We have this information? Since when?”
“Since now.” Quinn moves to the forefront. “There’s already a team working the angle of this suspect. Due to the leak in the department—” he eyes Carson “—this task force is on a need-to-know basis as new information develops.”
Quinn clears is throat. “The UNSUB is suspected of being involved with the serial killings that went cold two years ago in Roanoke. I have a packet for each member of the task force that elaborates on this profile and the evidence we need to uncover to determine the UNSUB’s identity.”
“Is the UNSUB still in contact with Agent Bonds?” another officer asks.
Quinn goes to answer, but Sadie intercepts the question. “Yes. We’re going to continue to use this tactic to keep communication open about Avery’s condition.”
“That’s it, people,” Quinn says. “Most of you already have your instructions. The rest proceed to the front to get your assignments. We’re going to get this sadistic perp, and we’re going to save Avery. Get to work!”
The room breaks apart in a chaotic but orderly fashion, every person hustling to get back on the case. I move toward the front of the room. I’m not on the task force. I’m the furthest thing from a cop there is…but I’ll do whatever I can to help Sadie. I know Quinn and the others have her back, will do everything in their power to keep her safe during this—but they’re also working within the law to do so.
If it comes down to it, they have to make their choices according to regulations, and that could complicate their duty. My only duty is to Sadie.
She will take every risk to save her friend, and I will take every risk to make sure she walks away alive. Quinn and Carson can measure their pricks along the black and white sideline for all I care. I won’t hesitate when it comes to her.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Carson says as I approach. “We’ve got a fucking leak, but we’re just letting suspect civilians have inside access?”
Quinn directs his attention on me. “He’s providing information on The Lair.” He looks at Carson. “And he’s your new informant. He’s riding with you to bring in suspects.”
“What?” I say.
“The hell?” Carson follows up.
My chest ignites. The thought of separating from Sadie signals a huge red flag. “I’m not leaving Sadie.”
“I don’t like it. But maybe it isn’t such a bad idea,” Carson says with a slight smirk. “Keep him in custody where I can keep an eye on him. Plus, I need him to bring in his brother.” He sends me a sidelong look.
“Who just suddenly up and vanished.”
“No,” Sadie cuts in. “Colton can’t be out there. For once, Carson’s right. The UNSUB is using whatever and whoever to get to me. I can’t chance Colton getting hurt.”
Quinn runs a hand through his hair and groans. “It’s the only way to cover every angle without giving up our leads.” His gaze is hard on her, and I can see the understanding in her eyes as it hits.
Her connection to all of this is already in question. The less people who know about it, the better for her. “I’ll go,” I say. “I’ll go wherever and do whatever if it helps. But I’m not being used to setup my brother.” I give Carson a menacing glare.
Carson scoffs. “Still protecting him, huh?”
“You’re a fucking idiot. You know that, right?” I step toward him, but Quinn pushes between us.
“Knock that shit off. We don’t have time for vendettas, Carson. Just work the fucking leads.” He slaps a packet against Carson’s chest. “I want the surveillance at The Lair scoured. Anyone on those top levels that doesn’t belong, that doesn’t have access, I want that footage. And I want the whereabouts of those two members you flagged logged and questioned, Colton.” He glances from me to Sadie. “Bonds said the UNSUB might’ve been at the club last night. Prove it. Get me a fucking clear image of this bastard.”
“Detective Quinn?” Carson says, drawing Quinn’s full attention. “I worked this case for a long time. I have suggestions on the profile that doesn’t match with what Agent Bonds is suggesting.”
Running a hand down his face, Quinn sighs. Then he waves his hand, prompting Carson on.
Carson straightens his back. “Agent Bonds wants to keep communication open with the UNSUB. But according to her own profile, this is feeding his narcissistic supply. It’s empowering him. We should shut down all communication with him.”
Sadie and I share a look. We know exactly what happens when the UNSUB loses contact with her, and right now—with Sadie’s friend at his mercy; as much as I want to agree with Carson and stop this sick fuck from contacting Sadie—that can’t happen.
“We can’t get a trace on him, anyway,” Carson continues. “He’s only using it for recognition. He won’t hurt Avery without an audience, right? And by supplying him with a direct link to this department, we’re giving him that audience.”
Sadie turns to Quinn, completely dismissing Carson. I let a smile slip.
“In theory, he’s right. But in this instance? He’s utterly wrong. The hostility the UNSUB exudes when he’s ignored suggests he’ll retaliate. He may have no plans to kill Avery…he could only want to bait me…but we could trigger an explosive reaction that endangers Avery if we kill communication.”
With a nod, Quinn says, “I agree. We’re not doing anything to jeopardize Avery.”
Carson crosses his arms. “All right. Then me and rope boy are bringing in Julian as soon as possible. That’s one way to knock a suspect off the list for sure.”
My jaw ticks as I grit my teeth. This new desire to defend my brother is disturbing. I’ve spent so long loathing him; I feel I’m the only one allowed the right to make accusations against him.
“If that’s the only way to eliminate him as a suspect,” I say. “Then I’ll find him. If he’s here at the station, then he’s not anywhere else.”
A tight smile pulls at Sadie’s lips. “Colton needs a phone. Something to stay in contact with us at all times since the techs confiscated his.”
As Quinn beckons a tech over to get Sadie’s request underway, I link my fingers through hers and pull her close. “This is for you,” I whisper. “I don’t give a damn about Julian.”
She frowns. “I know. But clearing him will also clear any connection Carson is trying to pin on you.” She kisses my cheek. The feel of her soft lips on my skin sparks a fiery pang in my chest.
“Promise me,” I say to her.
Her features fall.
“Promise me you’re only using it as a tactic. That you won’t actually try to meet this sadistic fuck on your own.”
With hesitation, she nods. “I promise that I won’t…not right now. He’s not falling for it anyway. There’s too much coverage and surveillance. He can’t chance giving himself away like this.”
I release a breath. “Be safe.”
“You, too. Anything you uncover, send it here. You and I will go over it.”
Her implication is clear: we’re the main targets, and we have to stay ahead of everyone else.
I turn toward Quinn with a warning ready on my tongue, but he says, “You don’t have to say it. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“I know.” I stare him straight on, letting my eyes speak for me. If anything happens to her, I’ll end you. Then I say to Carson, “Lead the way, detective.”
He scoffs. “Fucking hell. If you end up being the UNSUB, I will kill you dead.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Ditto.”
4
Pieces
Sadie
Pressure builds behind my eyes, around my forehead, at my temples. It’s the physical manifestation of the weight bearing down on me—the pressure to connect all the pieces and save Avery.
I glance down at my phone, check the time. I imagine I can hear the ticking of the clock counting down the hours. The minutes. The seconds. But it’s all in my head. Right there with the mounting pressure.
I hit my office quickly to change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt I had stashed there. Quinn thought it’d be a good idea to change, get comfortable for the long day ahead of us. It’s almost as if I can’t think for myself. I hate this feeling. Completely disoriented. It’s like…if I can just uncover one clue, just pinpoint the abduction site, then I can connect the rest of this puzzle.
And so that’s where we start. With the clock ticking, Quinn and I begin at the one place we know Avery always to be. Her lab.
“What is the last communication you had with her?” Quinn asks as he sets up the standing UV lamp. He brought his laptop with us and is conducting the search and comparison against the department while I attempt to determine the abduction site.
You would think that an M.E.’s lab—being equipped with every type of forensic equipment at the ready—would be the perfect environment to mount an investigation. It’s the exact opposite, however. As Quinn switches on the lamp, the light illuminates a massive amount of substances. From the blood of previous victims, to every other conceivable body fluid.
I close my eyes for a second as the pressure nearly doubles me over.
Shaking off the forming headache, I say, “I spoke with her the night before last. Right here.”
“About?” At my sigh, he adds, “Sadie. We have to do this. You know we have to go over every detail.”
“I know.” Taking a look around, I let my gaze scan the room, seeking anything out of place. It’s like a clustered science fair maze. I was terrible at science. “I asked her for a favor. I needed a workup on some rope. She said she’d make it her first priority.”
Quinn adjusts his forensic glasses. “A comparison for Colton. To clear him.”
“Yes, Quinn. To clear him…or to damn him. I always pursue the truth.”
“Hey,” he says, pausing his task to meet my eyes. “I’m not judging you. I would’ve done the same in your position.”
I let a wan smile steal across my face. “Anyway. I don’t think she had time to look into it.” I pull the letter from my back pocket. “Her assistant gave me this yesterday.” I unfold the note. “Sadie, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to complete your request. I’ve come down with something, but I promise to work on it as soon as possible. Trust your gut…until I can get you some answers. Avery.”
“What time was the letter delivered to you? By who?”
“A lab tech…Simon. Right before I left the station yesterday morning.” I press my fingers against the bridge of my nose. “Presumably, she wrote it the night before…or very early in the morning.” I slip on a pair of g
lasses. “She did tell me she wasn’t feeling well when we last spoke.”
Quinn braces his hands behind his head, going into his deep thinking mode. “So she writes a note with instructions for it to get to you before she heads home. That doesn’t sound like Avery. Even if she was ill, why not just call you?”
I shake my head. “She was working late that night. Maybe she left it at the lab because it was too late to call, and she didn’t want to be bothered the next day.”
“Why not text?”
I tilt my head. “What are you getting at? I can see Avery writing a letter. She’s pretty old-school. Not more so than you, but she appreciates the simpler times.” I inwardly smile, remembering her fussing over a computer error one day in the lab.
“All right,” Quinn says. “If that checks out, then she had to be abducted shortly afterward. I think we should head to her house and help CSU conduct the search.”
I scan the letter again, looking for any signs that she wrote it under duress. “I took her advice,” I say as I spread the note out on the table. “She’s the only one in her field who would ever say such a thing. ‘Trust your gut.’” I shake my head and almost laugh. Then I glance at Quinn. “Well, maybe except for you.”
He squeezes out a tight smile. “Forensics doesn’t leave much in the way of trusting your instincts. It’s all about the facts.”
“Right. And she is the best.” I angle the letter to catch the UV light. “If she was on to something, it makes sense the UNSUB would want to stop her. It’s the only reason—other than to hurt me—I can think of as to why he took her.”
The light sets off fingerprints—presumably Avery’s—on the note. I take the bi-chromatic powder from my kit and dust the prints, then lift them carefully with tape.
“You really think he was bold enough to abduct her here rather than her home.”
Placing the tape on a card, I mark the evidence and then repeat the process with another print. “Do I think he’s bold enough? Yes. And it makes sense. He wanted me kept away from the department the night I watched over my mother. I thought then it was because he didn’t want me to interfere with Colton’s interrogation. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe he had Avery in his sights all along.”