by Dee Davis
Harrison hit a key on the computer, and a second photo came up next to the first. “As you can see, when I adjust for darkness and switch to black and white, it could easily pass for nine years ago. Even the tree is similar enough to provide doubt.”
“And besides,” Madison said, “even nine years ago, anyone could have taken a photo at the scene. It was a busy block in Marble Falls, Texas. And although the actual scene was closed off, the street wasn’t.”
“So if our killer took the shot, he could have taken it any time after the murder,” Drake said. “And it would still look as if he’d been there in the moment.”
“Or it’s possible someone else took it, and somehow our killer got his hands on it,” Madison offered. “Finding something like that can often act as a trigger.”
“Then we’re saying it’s a copycat.” Avery’s words were a statement, not a question.
“I think it’s possible.” Madison absently rubbed the top of her belly, clearly ordering her thoughts. “There are definite similarities between this murder and the ones committed by the cyber killer. Particularly the ritual, which for both apparently involves two stages. The bedroom where the victim was sexually assaulted and killed. And a second scene in the cellar where the victim was strung up crucifixion-style. But there are also definite differences.”
“Like?” Simon asked, leaning forward, palms on the table. An ex-SEAL, Simon was a cut-to-the-chase kind of guy.
“Well, for starters,” Tracy said, “the knife wounds from your vic were administered postmortem. The cyber killer used his scalpel to inflict torture. Every slice was designed to produce maximum pain without threatening death.”
“Sadistic bastard,” Drake mumbled under his breath.
“And then some,” Madison agreed. “But Tracy’s right. That kind of act, that kind of anger, isn’t something that goes away. If he were back, I’d expect the anger to have escalated, not diminished. And certainly not to have disappeared altogether. There’s pleasure derived from postmortem disfigurement, but it’s not the same as the kind elicited from torturing someone.”
“And in addition to that,” Tracy said, “this unsub slit his victim’s throat in a way that guaranteed instant death. Sara died within seconds. The cyber killer, on the other hand, had refined his cutting so that the victim bled out slowly in an effort to continue the torture. There were also two other deviations physically.”
“The original killer gained access to the women’s homes without any sign of forced entry,” Harrison said.
“Which means he had social skills our new unsub is lacking,” Tracy added. “According to my preliminary examination, I’d say that Sara Lauter was drugged. I’ve ordered a tox screen to confirm, but the signs are pretty clear.”
“So the only way he could subdue her was to drug her.”
“It seems likely.” Tracy nodded. “And there’s one more big difference. The original killer raped his victims. It was a power play. A way to show his dominance. But this guy isn’t into that.”
“But Sara was sexually assaulted,” Hannah said. “I saw it in the report.”
“Yes, she was.” Tracy nodded. “But not in the usual way you think of rape. The vaginal tearing and bruising of the labia indicate that Sara was assaulted with an inanimate object. Something fairly large with a sharp end.”
Hannah swallowed rising bile, her mind conjuring the image of the bright young woman she’d had in class.
“I’ve got people at the scene now, checking to see if maybe we missed something. But my guess is that the unsub took whatever it was with him. This guy was nothing if not careful.”
“Jesus, I can’t believe we’re sitting around talking about this stuff.” Simon blew out a breath and pushed back from the table, arms crossed as he studied Tracy and Madison. “How the hell do you guys deal with this kind of thing day in and day out?”
“Same way you deal with the fallout from terrorism, drug cartels, nuclear bombs—all the things you’re called upon to handle.” Madison shrugged.
“Point taken.” He nodded, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Okay, so we’ve got the differences in the way the abduction, torture, and killing were handled. What else?” Avery prompted.
“The original killer was organized,” Madison said. “He planned his attacks with meticulous care. Researching the right victims and the perfect surroundings.”
“Meaning what?” Drake asked.
“Each of the women was taken to a house with a cellar. We believe this was a crucial part of his ritual. Part of his fantasy, if you will. Something happened to him involving a cellar and each time he killed, he was replaying or rewriting that incident. It took planning to find women who fit the victimology and then to find the right houses with cellars.”
“Victimology? Are you talking about the type of women he chose?” Simon asked.
“Yes,” Tracy said. “It’s almost as important to understand the victims as it is to understand the unsub. Maybe more so when you consider that the commonalities between victims can tell you a hell of a lot about the killer.”
“And the cyber killer picked young women. Midtwenties. Brunettes. Right?” Drake asked.
“Someone’s been doing their homework,” Harrison noted. “And yes. That’s the basic profile. In addition, they were also all successful. They came from an upper-middle-class background. They all lived alone and within roughly a fifty-mile radius just slightly north of Austin.”
“His comfort zone,” Hannah said.
Harrison nodded. “Which is another major difference. If it were the same guy, he’d be a hell of a long way from home.”
“Which isn’t unprecedented but certainly isn’t the norm,” Madison added. “Anyway, my original point was that while the cyber killer was highly organized, this guy is presenting mixed signals. On the one hand, he’s shown evidence of planning, and he’s meticulous about removing trace evidence that could tie him to the scene. But there are also some signs of spontaneity. Maybe even in choosing the victim. And if it is a copycat, it could be that the planning isn’t really his own.”
“You mean that he’s just following a template and improvising along the way.”
“It seems possible,” Madison agreed.
“And if you consider the differences in their victimology,” Tracy said, “it only makes it seem more certain that we’re talking about someone other than the original killer. Sara Lauter was a good five years younger than the original victims. She’s a college student. She lived in a dorm. She had a serious boyfriend. She basically isn’t his type.”
“And then there’s the video footage,” Harrison said. “That’s totally new. And clearly aimed at garnering attention—preferably from the authorities. The cyber killer wasn’t interested in attention like that.”
“But he sent emails, right?” Simon asked.
“Yes. But just emails. No visual. And in all five instances, we didn’t even find the emails until after the fact. In this case, it’s pretty clear the killer wanted the video to be found and broadcast.”
“So why not send it to the paper or the police? Why send it to Tina?” Hannah asked.
“There’s probably an element of fear involved. But something as graphic as what he sent was bound to be brought to the attention of someone in authority. In this case, Hannah.” Madison smiled at her, the gesture making her feel guilty for her earlier thoughts. “The killer’s flaunting his power. He’s giving us enough to solve the mystery but not enough to save Sara. And of course, if he really is basing his killing on the cyber killer’s work, then we can’t ignore the possibility that Tina is the next target.”
“Except that we’ve made it next to impossible for him to get to her,” Simon said.
“True,” Madison nodded. “But that may only serve to increase his determination. Men like him live to outmaneuver and outplay.”
“Should have been on Survivor,” Harrison quipped, in an effort to lighten the mood.
Hannah smiled, meeting his gaze, relieved when he grinned in return.
“You’d be surprised, actually, how many of the people portrayed in the show actually do exhibit signs of personality disorders.” Madison shrugged. “Although so far, no serial killers.”
“That’d certainly up the ratings,” Drake suggested with a wicked smile. “So what else do we know about our guy? Besides the correlations or lack thereof to the cyber killer.”
“We know that he’s operating alone,” Harrison said. “The film angles indicate a tripod, which means he didn’t need anyone to run the camera.”
“He’s white,” Madison continued. “Moderately educated. Probably a loner. He’s had some knowledge of anatomy and medical procedure but he isn’t a doctor. And he most likely has experience with computers and video equipment.”
“The forged email and the streaming video.” Drake nodded, as Avery rose to answer his phone.
“It’s also possible he was in the military or has a background in hunting,” Tracy continued. “That would explain his expertise in cutting a throat. And he’s going to be big. Strong. Sara wasn’t a large woman, but getting her subdued and transported, even drugged, would have taken muscle. Not to mention stringing up her body the way he did.”
“As we said before, he’s an organized killer, but with a modicum of spontaneity. Probably proving that he’s still fairly new to the game, although he’ll have had at least some experience,” Madison said. “Finding the house where he kept Sara implies an extensive knowledge of the area around Sunderland.”
“And he’s most likely got some connection to Texas and through that, the cyber killer,” Harrison said, trailing off, pain radiating across his face, the conversation obviously hitting too close to home.
“Right,” Madison continued, clearly recognizing Harrison’s discomfort and coming to the rescue in a way Hannah could not. “Either directly or possibly through secondary sources. Like newspaper accounts or police files or both. The bottom line, here, is that in all probability, we have a serial killer on our hands. One who is most likely copying the cyber killer. Maybe even believing that he’s continuing his work. And bottom line, he’s going to strike again.”
“Sooner rather than later,” Avery said, snapping his phone closed, his expression grim. “That was Reid. The killer’s sent Tina another video.”
CHAPTER 11
I really shouldn’t have opened the damn thing,” Tina said, chewing the inside of her lip. “But this time it wasn’t from Princeton. It was from you.” The girl looked apologetically over at Hannah. “I thought maybe you’d found something new, so I just opened it without thinking.”
“I didn’t send anything.” Hannah shook her head, her gaze moving from Tina to Harrison.
“I’m checking,” Harrison said, looking up from his computer. They were back in the Fischer Hall conference room, Reid situated near the door to keep watch. Madison and Hannah were sitting with Tina, who was looking incredibly shell-shocked. Not that he blamed her. “I’ve got the phone connected to my computer, and I’m in the process of copying the mpeg. I’m also trying to trace the source of the original email, but this guy’s using proxy servers to disguise the search.”
“But it didn’t come from me?” Hannah asked.
“Not literally, no,” Harrison shook his head, his eyes on the map displaying his search as he pinged off various servers. “Jesus, he’s utilizing one in Belarus and another in Western Australia. This dude’s good.” He frowned at the screen, hitting a key to stop the action.
“What is it?” Hannah asked as she rose to stand behind him. He could feel her breath on his neck, making it more difficult to concentrate than he cared to admit. Which was frustrating on too many levels to count.
“The message does appear to originate from your account,” he said. “The IP through Sunderland.edu.”
“Shit. So he hacked me?”
“Maybe. But more likely he just mirrored the IP. Sort of the same as using proxy servers.”
“But why me?” Hannah asked, confusion playing across her face.
“No way to know for sure,” Madison said. “Unless we can catch the bastard and get him to tell us. Most likely it was someone he knew Tina would trust.”
“So he’s watching me?” Tina asked, her voice coming out on a squeak.
“Not necessarily,” Madison assured her. “It’s far more likely that he just hacked into your email account. Both Professor Marshall and your contact from Princeton would have been listed there. And if he got into your emails, it’d be fairly simple to figure out your relationships with both of them.”
Tina nodded, clearly not convinced.
“Look, these men like to play off your fears. But to do that, they have to reach you first. And in this guy’s case, he’s trying to do it through these videos. And for them to work, you’ve got to open them, so he needs to be sure that they appear to be from trusted sources. People you’d have faith in.”
“In my case, that’d be my professors,” Tina said.
“Exactly,” Madison nodded. “And after he hooks you into opening the thing, he clearly expects you to share what you find. That’s probably the whole point of sending them in the first place. He needs validation.”
“So I’m just a means to an end?”
“It seems that way,” Madison agreed. “But we really don’t have enough information yet to know for sure. Maybe we’ll find something here. Did you watch the whole thing?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t. I just closed it as fast as I could and called Professor Marshall.”
“I think considering the circumstances, it’ll be all right if you call me Hannah.” She smiled, reaching out to touch Tina’s shoulder.
“Wow.” Tina laughed, the sound strangled. “I’ve always wanted to be on a first-name basis with my professors, but this wasn’t exactly the way I’d envisioned it.”
“I know. And you’re being really brave about all of this,” Hannah said.
“Well, I’d just as soon opt out of the whole thing, if you don’t mind. I didn’t look at the video because I didn’t want to see it. I’m still having nightmares about that man and… and Sara.” She stared down at her hands.
“Look, sweetie,” Hannah said, dropping down in the chair next to Tina, swiveling it so that she was facing her. “I know this is really scary. Hell, it scares me, too. But Madison here is really good at what she does. And the best way we can help her is to provide any information we can.” She took Tina’s hands and waited until the girl raised her eyes. “And since this man, whoever he is, seems to have targeted you in some way, it follows that you may be in a unique position to help.”
“But I don’t know him. I don’t. No one I know could have murdered Sara.” Her voice broke on the name.
“If he does know you, Tina,” Madison said, coming to sit on the other side of her, “it doesn’t mean that you know him. These kinds of predators don’t make friends easily. It could just be someone you came in contact with in a casual way. But for whatever reason, he wants you to know what he’s doing. And if you let him get to you, then he wins.”
Hannah nodded. “She’s right, Tina. This is all about power. And as long as you don’t give in, he’s not going to get it.”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t want that son of a bitch taking anything from me. So if it helps, I’ll stay. And I’ll watch the video.” She nodded, sucking in a big breath. “But, Dr. Marshall… Hannah… you’re going to be here the whole time,” she said. “Right?”
“Absolutely, I’m right here. And so are Madison and Harrison.”
“Okay, then, you think you’re ready?” Madison asked gently, pushing to her feet.
“Yes.” Tina squared her shoulders clearly trying to rein in her fear.
“I’m assuming, now that it’s downloaded onto your computer, you’ll be able to project it up there?” Madison tipped her head toward the large monitor on the back wall of the conference room.
It was grainy. Like the other video, the shadows masked most of the scene. This time, however, unlike before, the camera wasn’t stationary. It was moving. Almost point of view. A piece of wooden flooring. Maybe a porch. And then a painted wall. Everything was shot in black and white, which made it even harder to make out details. And this time, there was sound. Slow, rhythmic breathing, accentuated by the occasional creak of the floor.
“He’s moved inside somewhere,” Hannah said, narrowing her eyes as she studied the video.
“A hallway from the looks of it,” Madison nodded. “But he’s being careful not to give anything away. He’s playing with us, I think.”
“At least he doesn’t seem to have a victim,” Harrison noted, as he multitasked, watching the video and still trying to trace the source of the email.
“Yet,” Madison said, then frowned, clearly regretting her choice of words as Tina cringed.
“I think it’s a kitchen,” Tina said, frowning at the grainy image of tile and the edge of something wooden. “But it’s—” Her voice was cut off by the sound of a scream, as a hand filled the screen, and then an elbow, followed by what looked like a dark woven material of some kind. The scream stopped abruptly, followed by a grunt of pain and what looked to be a struggle.
Hannah winced, and Tina had hidden her eyes.
“What’s that?” Madison asked as she studied the screen above them. “Right there, and then again there.”
“It looks like hair,” Harrison said, freezing the screen and enlarging the frame.
“Human hair,” Hannah added, her voice barely audible. “I think it’s braided.”
Harrison hit a key and the video resumed as something flashed across the screen and another scream erupted—this one clearly feline.
The camera, or the person holding it, shifted, a white cat coming front and center—pupils dilated as it leaped forward, hissing, claws bared.