by Deanna Chase
"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because you just learned your brother is a homicidal maniac who killed your parents and untold others?"
"There is that."
"Luc, I need to speak with you." Claude said.
Jon-Luc turned and noticed his friends mouth set in a grim line.
"Jake, I've got to go," Jon-Luc said while staring at Claude.
"Call me the minute you find your girl," Jake added.
"You got it." Jon-Luc hung up. "What is it?"
"They found Demetrius."
"Does he have Angie?"
"Not exactly."
A shock of fear ran through Jon-Luc.
30
Although loath to ask, Jon-Luc did anyway. "What have you learned?"
"The guys processing the tunnel found Demetrius's body. My guess is you didn't search the entire underground."
Jon-Luc let out a pent up breath. "No, when I got to the kitchen, I stopped. How long has he been dead?"
"About twenty-four hours. His throat was cut."
"That means Michael really is our killer." Jon-Luc filled Claude in on his conversation with Jake.
"The Seine Slasher is your brother?"
"Yeah, lucky me." Jon-Luc shook his head. "I'd like Dysfunctional Families for $500, Alex."
"And I thought my family was screwed up." Claude rolled his eyes.
The car came to a screeching halt at the double doors of the hotel. Several police cars were already there. Some stood empty, lights still flashing. When they entered the lobby, they were intersected by a uniformed cop who addressed Claude. The entire hotel was crawling with cops, but Angie had not been found. They did find a cop who'd been knocked out and was missing his gun.
"Have they done a room-to-room search?" Jon-Luc interrupted.
Claude turned to him. "That would not be possible."
"Why the fuck not?" Jon-Luc paced, his adrenaline on overdrive.
"We would need a warrant. The manager would not allow us to search each room without one. This is a prominent hotel, with many influential guests who do not wish their privacy be disturbed. It would be difficult to convince an investigative magistrate without probable cause. We need evidence."
Jon-Luc stopped pacing in front of Claude and glared at him. "What kind of evidence?"
"Maybe a witness who saw her taken, or being dragged into an elevator. Something."
"What about the security cameras?" Jon-Luc asked.
"Already checked. At this point, we have nothing," Claude said in an infuriatingly calm voice.
"We don't have nothing. I know she's in danger, I feel it." Jon-Luc thumped his chest with his fist.
Claude placed a hand on Jon-Luc's shoulder. "We will find her, my friend."
"Fuck that. I'll start knocking on doors myself while you get your fucking evidence." Jon-Luc took off toward the stairs, but before he knew it Claude was in front of him, both hands on Jon-Luc's chest.
"Do not make me arrest you," Claude said sternly.
Jon-Luc pulled up short and stared into Claude's eyes.
"Well I'm not standing around here with my thumb up my ass," he ground out.
Angie awoke with a splitting headache and moaned. She was on the floor of a vehicle and couldn't move her arms or legs.
"The bitch awakes."
The tarp draped over her impaired her vision, but she knew the voice. "Michael?"
"Cha-ching. We have a winner!"
"What's going on?" The haze in her brain began to lift and Angie realized she was hogtied. The bindings around her wrists were tight and her fingers tingled.
"You just couldn't take a hint, could you?"
"Huh?"
"The dog shit?" he laughed.
"That was you?"
"Pretty funny, huh? I got the idea after seeing this woman pick up after her mutt. She was looking for a trashcan and I offered to take care of it for her. She was so honored she'd found a real gentleman. It worked on my college roommate. He switched rooms immediately when I did that to him. But you didn't leave."
"Why would I? It was a childish prank."
"It was not childish!" he yelled.
Angie flinched. This guy's crazier than bat shit.
"Then you moved onto the grounds, getting even closer to Lissette. She loved me like a son. I knew when she died she'd leave me everything. Me!" He screamed the last word. "Then you came along and I was all but forgotten. Everything was Angela this and Angela that," he said in a singsong voice. "Made me want to puke.
"That's when I knew I had to get serious. So I slaughtered that rabbit and left it for you to find, as a warning. If you didn't leave, that's what I'd do to you. But instead of running away, you moved into the goddamned house and started fucking my brother!"
Angie shook her head. "Luc is your brother? But you don't sound the same, you have no accent."
"Damn straight. When I got to NYU I wanted to blend in, not sound like some stupid hick. So I hired a tutor to give me diction lessons."
"Why didn't he recognize you?"
"He ran away before I was born. I don't even know if he realizes I exist. But he will, I've made certain of it."
"Has anyone found her phone?" Jon-Luc asked the cops standing around watching them.
Claude barked an order and the men scrambled.
"Her phone is on. When I call the number, it rings. You can trace it," Jon-Luc told Claude.
Claude made a call. "The number?" Jon-Luc looked it up and gave it to him. Then paced again as he waited for news. Was she being held in one of these rooms? Or are they on the move?
Jon-Luc's vision changed. He was driving a vehicle in traffic somewhere in the city. "Hey big brother, glad you could join us."
"Chauvin? How did you know I was here?" Jon-Luc couldn't believe he was talking in his head to his brother, the killer.
"Because I'm the one who called for you. I want you to watch when I kill your girlfriend like I did the woman from the plane."
"How did you know about her?" Jon-Luc wanted to hear it from him.
"I've been able to see through your eyes for awhile now. You've led an interesting life. I've learned a lot from the serial killers you've chased. Oh, and nice digs. You really scored hooking up with that old man. You're welcome, by the way."
"For what?" What the hell would he be grateful to this asshole for?
"I'm the one who killed him in that robbery gone bad. I read in the paper you inherited his entire estate. Not my intention, of course. I actually just wanted you to suffer."
Jon-Luc felt as though he'd been sucker punched. "Why? What have I ever done to you? I don't even know you!"
"Oh please, Jon-Luc the fucking saint. You may not have been physically in the house I grew up in, but your spirit never left. From the moment I was able to realize it, mother mourned your absence. I came upon her one day sitting on her bed, crying. She was going through a box. When I got closer, I noticed photographs, a pair of baby shoes. I asked about them and that's when she told me about you. Her firstborn." Chauvin's voice dripped with malice.
"I never knew." Jon-Luc choked up. She'd loved him after all.
"Getting sentimental are we? Don't bother. I burned it all. I snuck in one day and found the box. I even located your birth certificate and destroyed it as well. But that didn't stop her hero worship. Later I found the box filled with newspaper clippings and articles printed from the internet, all about the famous FBI profiler, Jon-Luc Boudreaux, and all the bad guys you'd put away. That's why I sent for you."
"Sent for me?"
"You were under the impression the idea of coming to Paris was yours? That's rich," he said with contempt.
"What do you mean?" Jon-Luc asked.
"I put that thought in your head. Jeez, you're even dumber than I thought. You think it's just a coincidence you're in the same city as me? I brought you here. I wanted to see if the almighty profiler god could catch me, but even when I took you along on my kills, you still didn't have a clue."
"
You've known I could see through your eyes the entire time?"
"Of course, I choose what I want to share, not you."
At his words, a chill ran the length of Jon-Luc's spine. His brother had forced him to watch as he butchered those women.
"Didn't you notice I never let you see where I live? I only shared the good stuff. I wanted to gauge your reaction. I hoped, like me, you'd enjoy witnessing life being snuffed out. But no, you're the pathetic loser I always thought you'd be. Instead I relished the times you flinched and squirmed, it added to the excitement. I must say, I truly enjoyed being able to share my hobby with someone." Chauvin laughed, the sound evil.
"So what's your plan now?"
"You mean after I make you watch me kill your girlfriend?" The sinister laugh followed. "I'm going to kill you, dear brother. After that I have one more loose end and I'll be done. Then Melody will be avenged."
"So the reason you've massacred all these women is revenge for Melody, I thought as much. But what was she to you?"
"Beautiful, sweet, kind, Melody. I loved her like I've never loved anyone in my life. Kind of like the way you feel about the stupid cunt I have in the back. I planned on killing her anyway, but the fact that you care about her makes it all the more delicious. I get to kill two birds with one stone. Ha ha, I crack myself up."
"Did Melody feel the same about you?"
"Of course!" The words screamed through Jon-Luc's head and he grabbed his temples. "You doubt me?"
"Luc, what's wrong?" Claude's voice floated through the air from a great distance. He was torn between answering his friend, or his brother. He didn't know how long he'd have the connection with Chauvin and he needed to glean as much information as he could.
Jon-Luc addressed his brother. "Then why did she kill herself and leave you?"
"She didn't leave. She's sitting next to me right now."
"Ah, but can you touch her, kiss her?"
"Of course," Chauvin said with certainty.
"How is that even possible?" This perplexed Jon-Luc to no end. He'd never had the ability to touch one of the spirits who'd haunted him. Then again, his little brother seemed to have more abilities than Luc had. He couldn't discount a thing.
"So you plan to live happily ever after with a ghost?"
"What the hell are you talking about? Melody is not a ghost, she's flesh and blood, like you and me."
Chauvin had lost all grip on reality, which made him more dangerous than any other killer Luc had hunted. It made him more unpredictable.
"Tell me where you're going. You can't kill me if we're in two different places."
"Right. So you can bring in the cavalry? I'd rather find you, big brother."
Then the connection was severed. Jon-Luc found himself standing in the lobby of the St. James & Albany hotel, Claude staring at him. Concern etched his features. Luc lowered his hands from his head.
"What is wrong? You looked like you were in pain, but you wouldn't answer me," Claude said.
"Chauvin has Angie and he plans on killing her."
"How do you know?"
"I just had a very informative conversation with him. Come on. We have to go." Jon-Luc grabbed Claude's arm and steered him toward the exit.
Claude followed. "How did you manage this?"
"In my head. He found a way to talk to me through my mind."
"Where is he now?"
"He's driving, he has Angie in the back of an SUV. It's gray."
"Did you get the license plate?"
"No, how are we doing on that trace?"
"I'm waiting-" Claude's cell phone interrupted, "Send it to my GPS." He tucked his phone away and slipped into the car.
Jon-Luc did the same, after slamming the door, he asked, "Do they have a line on the vehicle?"
Claude started the car and pointed to the screen between them. "That red dot is them."
"Shit, they're on the other side of the city and moving at a good clip. How will we catch them with all this traffic?"
31
"I have a picture of him on my phone, let me send it to you," Jon-Luc said.
A moment later Claude said, "Got it, I will send it on to headquarters so they can distribute it." After pocketing his phone, he snagged the police radio and in rapid French barked orders. Jon-Luc understood enough to conclude he'd called all units to the vicinity of the red dot, describing the vehicle as best he could and informing them the driver's photo would follow shortly.
After hanging up the mic, Claude hit the siren and flashing light, then took off. Jon-Luc leaned forward on pins and needles as he watched the progress of the vehicle that held Angie. Out of nowhere a man's voice filled the car, a siren blared along with it through the speaker. He had eyes on the vehicle, the dot on the screen sped up.
Claude found a gap in the traffic and floored the accelerator. Jon-Luc flew back in his seat, then fumbled for the belt. He listened to the chatter of several excited men as they chased the vehicle, now known to be a silver Mercedes Benz SUV Class GLK registered to Lissette Marie Beauchamp.
"She probably has so many cars, she doesn't even know it's missing," Jon-Luc said once they heard the news.
"Oui," Claude said, distracted.
Several men started yelling at once. "What is it, what's happening?" Jon-Luc couldn't understand a thing as they shouted over one another.
"They have lost the vehicle," Claude explained.
"Lost? How the fuck can they lose it? The car is stopped. We can see it right there!" Jon-Luc tapped the screen.
"No. That is her cell phone. He must have figured out that is how we found him, so he dumped it."
Jon-Luc hit the dashboard. "Shit!" His body flopped back in the seat.
"Do not worry, they are in the general area where they last saw the SUV. Someone will pick it up."
Jon-Luc heard a malevolent laugh in his head. "What's wrong, big brother? Aren't you having fun?"
"You sick son-of-a-bitch. We will find you," Jon-Luc said aloud.
"You forget, I'm calling the shots," Chauvin replied.
"Yes, we will," Claude said at the same time.
"He's back, Claude. He's talking to me."
"In your head?"
"Yes"
"Can you see where he is?"
"No, I only hear him."
They drove for ten long minutes before that changed. Jon-Luc was in the killer’s body in a wooded area, huffing and puffing. He searched for signs of something that gave away his position, but nothing stood out. The trees were in full fall mode, the colors a spectacular mix of yellow, orange, and red.
Angie came into view as she dropped to the ground in front of him, the killer, his brother. Her arms and legs were tied in back. She was out cold. Jon-Luc was certain she was not dead, because he knew Chauvin wanted him to witness the deed. He needed an audience. At least he'd learned that much about his sibling.
"Glad you could join me," Chauvin's cocky voice sounded in his head.
"Leave her alone, Chauvin, this is between you and me."
"That's where you're wrong. The fact that she is your little chickadee is just an added bonus. I've been wanting her gone for some time."
"What did she ever do to you?"
"She fucked up my plans with Lissette. I'd been working on that bitch for quite awhile. Charming her with my poor orphan act. Being the perfect son and heir to her fortune. Doing everything she asked and more to win her favor.
"After all, she had no one to leave her riches to, it might as well be me. Then this bitch came along. At first she was no threat, but the more she wormed her way into Madame Beauchamp's good graces, the bigger a pain in the ass she became."
"You can't know what Lissette had planned. Maybe she did put you in her will."
"Oh, I know, big brother. I overheard her talking to her lawyer. She set it up that Angela Henderson was to inherit the bulk of her estate, naming her the heir apparent. So obviously she has to die. I will not have all my hard work wasted."
"But the authorities know who you are. You won't get away with this, so it's a moot point. Kill me instead. You can get your revenge that way," Jon-Luc pleaded.
"Oh, I'll kill you too. Don't worry about that. But she needs to die in the most imaginative way possible. When I'm through, even her own mother won't recognize her. This one is personal, this one's for me. She fucked with the wrong guy."
A knife appeared.
Jon-Luc's heartbeat ratcheted up. "Claude, I've got visual. He's in some sort of park. It's wooded. I can't see anything of use to indicate where."
"Can you see the river?" Claude's voice came at him.
"No. Just a lot of trees. But if he's keeping true to form, the river can't be far."
"Okay, keep watching and report if anything changes."
"I have no choice." Jon-Luc gripped the armrests tight. He was helpless, all he could do was observe while Angie was in the hands of a deranged killer.
"I'll start checking the parking lots of the nearest parks for the Mercedes," Claude said.
Jon-Luc heard Claude speaking French and knew he was alerting the cops to the latest development. He was not a religious man, but he figured asking God for help at this point couldn't hurt. "God, I know we haven't talked for some time, but if you protect Angie now, and help her make it out of this alive. I promise to help those in need, in your name. Amen."
The killer’s hands came into view. He turned the unconscious Angie on her side and cut the zip ties binding her wrists and ankles, then rolled her onto her back. Dressed for the show in evening attire, her royal blue garment shimmered in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the heavy branches above. She looked serene, just a beautiful woman sleeping in the forest. Under other circumstances, the image would be considered lovely.
A hand gripped the hem of her dress and the knife appeared once more. Jon-Luc cringed as the sharp blade ate its way up toward the neckline swiftly. Easily. Hands pulled the material aside, revealing a black lacy bra and matching thong. Jon-Luc couldn't stand watching Angie in such a vulnerable state.
"Stop. Please. I'll do anything you want. I beg you. Just leave her alone." Jon-Luc knew deep down his words were meaningless to their intended target, but at this juncture they were all he had.