by Robin Mahle
Katie chuckled at the suggestion. “No. Not yet. But if things start to go south for you at the FBI, I’m sure I can find a place for you here at the good ol’ SDPD.”
That brought much needed laughter for both of them. “I’ve gotta go, Katie. It was really great to hear from you and I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“No problem at all, Nick. You take care of yourself and be safe.”
Nick ended the call just as the agents arrived. “You ready to go?” he asked them.
4
KATIE’S OFFICE WAS tucked away at the back of the station, near the lab. She coordinated her efforts with the other evidence technicians and forensics and didn’t often leave her little hole unless it was to see Marshall. He was a senior detective now and had a big office, surrounded by windows just opposite the bull pen. A few of the junior team answered to him and Katie had grown pretty fond of the place and the people who worked there.
Still, she took pause at Nick’s offhanded remark. The idea that she could be involved in such important cases was appealing. But she could never leave the family she’d come to know so well here in San Diego. And the thought of leaving Marshall; well, that just wasn’t going to happen.
A painful cramp had taken hold and she cringed, placing her hand over her stomach. It was to be expected, according to the doctor, whom she was scheduled to see again later this afternoon. More blood would be drawn to determine if the treatment was working. Treatment. It didn’t seem like an appropriate word for what was happening inside her.
The past few days had been uncomfortable and awkward with Marshall. It seemed he was unsure of how to respond to the situation and it had been unsettling for him as well as for her; neither wanting to acknowledge what was happening.
The situation had breathed life into the past and created a force that began tearing away at the walls Katie had erected around the painful memories. The thoughts wanted free of their confinement; free to spread in her mind like a disease, killing off the good memories, replacing them with the blackness they carried.
This latest blow, losing a pregnancy she hadn’t realized she’d wanted, had to be pushed behind those very walls. The problem would be in opening the door to force them through. It would prove difficult to keep the rest at bay. So for now, ideas swirled and anger raged at what was happening and she hadn’t the courage to lock them away.
Katie approached Marshall’s office to find him still buried in the Markham investigation, although most of the files had been turned over. Captain Hearn was still on his case about coordinating with the community leaders regarding the home in which the girl had been found. Nearly a week had passed and it was still taped off, mainly because the second victim, the one who hadn’t survived, still had not yet been identified and forensics was searching for anything in the home they might have overlooked.
“Hey, can I come in?” She leaned in his open doorway.
“Yeah, of course.” Marshall looked up from his computer screen, his cheeks lifting at the sight of her. “What’s up? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, not really, but right now wasn’t the time to bring up the elephant in the room. Katie sat down in the orange chair opposite Marshall’s desk. The department had “upgraded” its décor, although she felt little comfort in the mid-century modern revival piece of furniture. “I just got off the phone with Agent Scarborough.”
This seemed to pique Marshall’s interest. She noticed his eyes widen for just a moment.
“Really? Did he call you?”
“No. I called him. Marc asked me for a favor. He wanted some information on that Highway Hunter guy they’re all looking for right now.”
Katie made no secret of her friendship with Marc Aguilar. Marshall knew they often spoke. It seemed he’d finally relinquished any dubious feelings he might have felt in the past regarding the man. “So what did Marc want? An exclusive with the FBI?”
“Well, yes, sort of. He wanted me to ask if Nick was on the case and, if he was, did he know if the killer was heading our way.” A slight cringe briefly crossed her face as a cramp took hold once again. She shifted in her seat and continued, “He’s just looking to get a scoop on it before anyone else does.”
“So is this the deal? Does he know anything yet? Nick, I mean.”
“If he knows, he’s not saying. It’d be nice if he could give us some kind of profile on the guy, though. Don’t we get to know what they know, just to give us something to look out for, should a victim turn up in our jurisdiction?” Katie noticed a half-grin playing on Marshall’s face. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s just that you sound an awful lot like me.” Marshall turned serious for a moment, placing his forearms over the top of his desk and leaning in. “You sure you don’t want to go for detective? Okay, so you’d have to put in some time as a patrolman, but you’ve got time in already, pretty much. I mean, CSI is great, but you could be amazing as a detective.”
Katie tilted her head. “That would mean we’d be working together almost exclusively. I think you’d tire of me always hanging around. Home, work. We’d never be apart.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
Genuine. That was one trait in many that she loved about Marshall, but he had hidden meaning beneath his words. A meaning that she wasn’t sure he even picked up on. It had become so automatic, he probably didn’t know it was there. Protection. He had engulfed her in it for such a long time and while it was certainly well-meaning, she just might disappear entirely if it continued. She would simply become a part of him and lose herself.
“Oh, I think eventually we would get on each other’s nerves. Besides, you know how much I love the research. You’re the best investigator I know and I think that work is best left to the professionals.” She stood up to leave, another cramp piercing her stomach. This time, a noticeable flinch ensued.
“It still hurts?”
“Not really. I promise, I’m fine.” Katie moved towards the door. “I’m going in later today for more blood work. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
She was halfway into the corridor when Marshall spoke.
“Hey.”
Katie turned.
This time, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you.”
She smiled, her lips mouthing the words. “I love you too.”
***
The big screen televisions in the bar were showing the Chargers football game, but Edward hadn’t taken much notice. He wasn’t much for football, and since he was from Colorado, even if he was, his support would go to the Broncos. He preferred hockey and that was about as likely to be shown in a bar in San Diego as Canadian basketball.
After a few failed attempts, he managed to get the attention of the bartender and raised his empty bottle of beer, signaling he was ready for another.
A quick nod from the guy behind the bar and he was off again, tending to the other patrons who had bellied up to it on this cool Thursday night.
“You get me one too?” Shaun Hudson, a curly-haired, blonde kid who had latched onto Edward in recent months pulled up a stool.
“I didn’t think you were gonna show. It’s been an hour.”
“Sorry, man. Got caught up at work.” He waved the bartender over. “Mich Ultra, please.”
“Sure. And you were the Guinness?” He pointed to Edward.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about the wait. I’ll get ‘em now.” The man disappeared behind the large glass display of liquor bottles and beer taps.
“Shit, man. I asked him for another beer like ten minutes ago,” Edward said.
“It’s ladies’ night. Place is always packed. Must be nice to get drinks for a friggin’ buck just because you got a vag.” Shaun cast a glance to the three women hovering at the end of the bar.
“Yeah, well, you need them to keep drinking, my friend, if you stand any chance of picking off one of those three.”
“
Fuck off, dude.” Shaun nudged an elbow in Edward’s direction.
They laughed the way men do when they think they’re being clever.
“Seriously, though, man, you got my shit?” Edward was finished with the niceties. He had business to tend to.
Shaun tossed a look at the bar entrance. “In my car. I still don’t know what you need with that chick’s file. I copied all of it, but I gotta tell you, at first glance, I didn’t see nothin’ that would be worth anything.”
“Don’t you worry about it. I got my reasons.” Edward took a swig of the beer that had finally arrived.
“She’s cool and all, but you know what happened to her, right? Been through a lot of shit and she’s got that cop-boyfriend.” Shaun poured half the bottle of beer down his gullet. “Guess it’s none of my business. We square now?”
Shaun had come to know Edward through a mutual set of friends. Edward was nice to the awkward and lanky twenty-something since they had met almost a year ago. Since then, Shaun had sought the advice of the older, more experienced student. Career advice and, more often than not, advice on how to handle the fairer sex, something with which the kid had little to no experience. But it was Edward’s help on a more recent matter that Shaun had found himself indebted to the man. A situation had arisen in which Shaun required some financial assistance. Edward was all too willing to help out, in return for something of substantially more value to him than money.
Shaun was about to deliver the goods. He worked part time at the school, in the registration office, and pulled the file of a certain someone with whom Edward had desired to become further acquainted, if he stood any chance of taking her from her cop-boyfriend.
“We’re square.” Edward retrieved his wallet and pulled out a twenty.
“Dude, I just got here. You’re leaving?”
“Got a date tonight.” His phone was sitting on the bar top and he quickly checked the time. “I’m late as it is. Where’s your car? I wanna get the file.”
***
Edward slicked back his dark hair and tucked it behind his ears. The loose waves grazed his shoulders. If he was going for a Middle-Earth slash Game of Thrones look, he’d achieved it. The girls always liked his thick locks, especially when he wore them long. He figured it must have been a “bad boy” kind of thing that they liked. Whatever the reason, it served his purpose.
The knock on the door could only be coming from Lindsay. Right on time. Edward liked her well enough, for a good lay at least. Other than that, he held no real affections for the younger girl. The woman he’d wanted was, as of yet, unattainable, but that would change soon enough.
He’d followed Katie’s story on the news and something about her demeanor, her strength had spoken to him in a way he’d never experienced before. It was an interview she’d done shortly after she’d gotten out of the hospital that had moved him to take the necessary steps ensuring he could be nearer to her.
So far, Edward couldn’t bring himself to do much more than say hello on occasion and ask a question or two about her work. He’d tried to engage her on a deeper level, but she was always rushing out of class. He hadn’t really yet found the nerve to talk to her. The other night, as he walked alongside her after class, he’d finally managed to ask her out for a drink, just a friendly coffee, but she’d turned him down.
Still, he hadn’t lost hope yet. After his date tonight, he’d planned on studying the file Shaun had pilfered from the school. He didn’t know how he would use it exactly. Maybe just find her weaknesses – grades or whatever – and use them to his benefit. He regretted having to resort to such measures, but Katie had left him little choice.
Edward opened the door to a smiling Lindsay, standing at the top of the landing. His second-floor apartment was small, but located near the school and the girls didn’t mind it so much. Of course, the sort of girls he went out with weren’t as discerning as his Katie. “Come in, please.”
He removed her coat and took in her slender figure, which was tucked nicely inside the short black dress. “You look very nice.”
She turned to face him, looking seductive and needing to please, the way a young woman who hadn’t quite found herself yet often did. “I bought it today, just for our date.”
***
On return to Edward’s apartment, after yet another expensive dinner, he’d anticipated a little foreplay, then a roll in the sack, but as he began to kiss Lindsay, she started to pull away.
“I’m sorry. I really should be getting home. It’s late and I’ve got an early class tomorrow. I had such a great time tonight, Eddie, really.” She began to reach for her coat, which lay tossed over the back of the small grey sofa in his living/dining room.
“You’re leaving?” He expressed his displeasure at this unexpected turn of events by placing his hand over the coat, blocking her from retrieving it.
“I know. I’m so sorry, babe, but I can’t afford to let my grade slip any further in that class, and I’ve got to get some sleep tonight.”
He removed his hand from the coat, but reached for her arm, squeezing it tighter than he realized.
“Ouch. Eddie, that hurts. What’s wrong with you?” Lindsay’s face was masked in surprise and more than a little discomfort.
He quickly released her arm. “I’m sorry. Please, I—didn’t mean to…” Edward yanked her hair back and pressed his lips hard against hers, working to part her lips with his tongue.
She pushed him back and he nearly stumbled over the dining chair. “What the fuck are you doing, you fucking asshole?” Lindsay brushed past him and got to the door in a matter of seconds.
Edward regained his footing and wasn’t far behind. He pressed his hand against the partially opened door, slamming it shut and looked down at her. His frame towered over hers. “By the way, it’s Edward, you fucking bitch.” He pulled the door open and stood aside.
5
THE SCENE WHERE the woman had been found the other day by a field hand had already been secured when Nick arrived. Small flags marking the spot where she had been located dotted the area. The woman’s body had been moved to the coroner’s office and what remained was an imprint of her small frame and flags marking the trail in which she’d been dragged off the main highway.
Word was spreading quickly about the so-called “Highway Hunter,” and this victim had fit the bill. The other victim had also been placed in a manner that left exposure to the elements.
No clothes, face up, and a V carved from the chest to the navel and back up again. In the center of the carving lay flowers; dandelions, to be exact. The victim’s fingers were laced together over the chest and the dandelions placed firmly between the thumb and forefinger.
Those little details had been left out of the media and Nick wondered, had they known about them, might they have tagged the killer with another, more suitable nickname? It only took a matter of days for them to coin him the “Highway Hunter,” although he attributed the quick headline to the fact that it had otherwise been a slow news day in Virginia and the national media picked up the sound bite with ferocity.
The Richmond woman had last been seen at a gas station a few miles from where she’d been found. Nick was still waiting on the surveillance video, but the local police had been having trouble with the proprietor of the station. It seemed the owner didn’t want to admit his facility might not be as safe as one would expect. Standing here now, looking down on the flattened spot shaped like a body, he knew this case was going to get much worse before it got better and if he had to be the one to put pressure on the owner, then that was the way it would have to be. It was becoming apparent this latest victim wasn’t going to be the last.
***
After spending the better part of the morning standing in sticky grass, studying every inch of the scene, Nick now sat at his makeshift work station in the field office, his laptop displaying the FBI seal bouncing around the screen like a pinball; the screensaver. He stared at the monitor as he replayed the conversation with t
he coroner, regarding the latest victim. They still needed the DNA tests to come back, but it appeared as though a similar implement had been used to make the carving and it also appeared that the body had been located somewhere else for several hours before being dragged to the spot where she was discovered. The wound had coagulated in much the same way as the previous victim’s in Richmond. Nick figured the killer didn’t want to soil his vehicle with blood.
“Did I catch you at a bad time? You look like you’re in deep thought.” Agent Dwight Jameson popped his head through the doorway of the conference room where Nick still sat in silence.
“No, not at all. Come on in.” Nick’s team had arrived as scheduled. He had worked with Jameson for the better part of six months and had developed a good rapport with the man.
Agent Jameson had also proven to be a good friend in recent weeks since this case was assigned, although his name always seemed to bring to mind the whiskey brand, or maybe it was just that Nick hadn’t had a drink in eight weeks and was partial to the Irish malt. “What’s going on?”
Agent Jameson dropped a file onto the table. “It’s the surveillance video from the gas station in Richmond.”
Nick swelled with excitement. “Great! Let’s see what we’ve got.” He opened the file and found a small flash drive. “I swear if they make these things any smaller, we won’t be able to see them anymore!” He plugged the tiny silver square into the USB drive and waited for it to load. “Have you seen this yet?”
“No. Just got it in from Richmond police.” Jameson pulled up a chair.
Nick waited patiently for the files to load. He spotted the video file icons and clicked on the first one. “These are labeled by the time of day?”