Stone's Mistake

by Adrian J. Smith

  “Where are we ordering from?” Lollie asked.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want to get you back to my bed and do this all over again.”

  “That’d be perfect.”

  Lollie sat up slightly, but Samantha didn’t move. Pressing one more kiss to Lollie’s lips, Samantha reached down to the foot of her car for her shirt. She shoved it over her head, awkwardly moved to button up her pants, and grinned the entire time.

  “We’re leaving your car. We’ll come back for it.”

  “Okay.” Lollie tugged up her own pants.

  Stepping out of the vehicle, Samantha pushed Lollie into the side, reminiscent of when they’d met earlier in that very same parking lot. Lollie had to force Samantha away from her, and she licked her lips, looking from Samantha’s eyes to her lips to her chest and back again.

  “Bed?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.” Samantha moved away from her, awkwardly, before she headed around the car and got into the driver’s seat.

  Lollie got into the passenger seat and buckled in while Samantha drove. The entire drive home, Lollie whispered exactly what she wanted to do to Samantha as soon as they were going to make it inside. Samantha almost forgot to step on the gas at a stop light she was so distracted by Lollie’s descriptions.

  Lollie had to gently remind her to go. They were about halfway there, when Lollie gave in and leaned over, once again unbuttoning Samantha’s pants and slipping her hand down between Samantha’s legs. Groaning, Samantha’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel and shifted her butt on the seat to give Lollie better access.

  “All day, huh?”

  “Yes,” Samantha answered on a breath. “Didn’t you?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this since I met you, to be honest. You’re so beautiful, so strong, so confident. It’s a glorious mix to witness.”

  Samantha’s cheeks tinged red with a blush, and Lollie’s chest warmed. The rest of the drive home, Lollie did her best to torture Samantha as best she could. She didn’t come before they made a mad dash for the apartment, but as soon as they were inside, their clothes came off, and they spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other.

  Chapter Eleven

  This was the part of her job that she loved the most. It wasn’t the most glorious part or the part she got credit for outside of the office, but diving deep into the research, into looking for connections in behavior, that was where her true love was. Morgan scoffed when Pax sat next to her with a paper cup in his hand. She shook her head at him.

  “I gave you a washable cup for a reason.”

  He shrugged. “It’s dirty.”

  “So wash it. Save the planet a little. Yeesh.” Morgan turned to her computer. She’d been scrolling through old murder cases in the area, searching for another connection to their woman. She waited rather impatiently for a call back from St. Louis about the credit card charge. She’d already called them twice waiting for a response, and they were not getting back to her.

  Morgan tapped her pen rapidly on the top of her desk as she hunched over staring at her computer screen. The caffeine swirling through her veins was almost too much, and she knew she’d over done it that morning. She’d contacted the humane society about a cat, but other than they had a bunch for her to look at, she hadn’t made it any further in her quest. She’d chugged an entire pot of coffee before she even left her tiny apartment and another pot after she’d arrived.

  Her knee bounced up and down, hitting the top of her desk. It wasn’t until Pax gripped her arm and sent her a glare that she stopped. “What?”

  “What is with you today?”

  “I dunno. Something about this case. It’s confusing me. There’s like no sign of this woman anywhere.”

  “Still sure it’s a woman.”

  “Yes.” Morgan turned on him. “Women can be serial killers too, just as much as men.”

  “I’m aware, but this one…you’re sure?”

  “Yes.” Morgan rolled her eyes and glanced at the computer screen. “Why are you so sure it’s a man?”

  Pax paused and pursed his lips. His dark eyes locked with hers. “Men are more likely to be serial killers. Statistically speaking.”

  “I know that.”

  “This person has killed each time by strangulation. It would take a lot of strength for a woman to be able to do that.”

  “You don’t think I could strangle you?”

  He narrowed his gaze.

  “Seriously. Do you think I couldn’t take you on?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Misogynist.”

  “Not the first time I’ve been accused of that.” He leaned in his chair and crossed his arms over his large chest.

  Morgan shook her head at him and focused on her computer briefly before she turned on him again. “I’m sure it’s a woman. A man wouldn’t fit the profile.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not a violent death. The violence happens afterward. It’s calculated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Licking her lips, Morgan pulled out each of the photos of the victims they knew about. She set them in a line in front of Pax so he could see each one. “Here, this one has one stab wound to the heart. It would have been fatal had the victim still been alive, but strangulation.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Here again, stab wounds. This time three to the heart.”

  Pax shook his head.

  “This time four.”

  “I still don’t get it.”

  “She’s counting her kills.”

  Pax’s eyes burned a hole in hers. Morgan raised her eyebrows at him and nodded. He swallowed.

  “She’s literally counting her kills. We’re missing the second one. There might be a first one too, before she started all this—” Morgan waved her hand over the table “—but we’re definitely missing number two. It’ll only be a matter of time before number five happens.”

  Pax slipped the photos over so he could look at them more clearly. “Calculated, yes, but you’re going to have to do more convincing of me for it to be a woman.”

  “You’re too bullheaded. So far there is no male DNA at any of the crime scenes.”

  “They’ve hardly even gotten through the samples yet,” he countered.

  Her phone shrilled sharply. Morgan twisted toward it, pulled it up immediately, and shoved it to her ear.

  “Stone.”

  “Special Agent Stone?”

  “Yes, this is she.” Her heart rapped in her chest as she prayed for an answer from St. Louis.

  “I’m calling from St. Louis Bureau.”

  Morgan grinned. “Did you find anything?”

  “There’s no cameras in the area of the restaurant, unfortunately. The owner wasn’t able to give me a description of the individual either. Sorry I don’t have much better news.”

  Clenching her jaw, Morgan stared aimlessly in front of her. “Was there any description of a vehicle or have you found the rental car, yet?”

  “We haven’t. There’s a lot of cars in St. Louis, ma’am.”

  Morgan held her tongue as much as she didn’t want to. She had to play nice with the man, but good Lord, the macho attitude was over the top that day. She swallowed and took a breath. “I’d appreciate an update if you find anything.”

  “Will do, ma’am.”

  Morgan hung up, thankful to get off the phone with him. Pax had been watching her the entire time. “That didn’t look like it went well.”

  “They didn’t find anything, and I’m pretty sure they’re not that interested in finding my rental car, either. Sometimes I hate relying on locals.”

  “Sometimes you love it.”

  “Shush. Not today.” Morgan gave Pax a gleaming smile and went back to her computer. She desperately needed something she could dig her teeth into and run with. Having a profile for a serial killer was good, but it wasn’t much unless she had leads. “You finish the financial
s?”

  “Yeah, but there’s no connection between the victims at all other than our killer.”

  Sighing, Morgan rubbed the bridge of her nose and sipped at her now cold coffee. She grimaced as she swallowed. “Any idea where our killer may have met them?”

  Pax shrugged. “Could be anywhere. First victim went to a grocery store, a diner, a coffee shop, work, and church all within the week before she was murdered. Second—”

  “You mean third,” Morgan interrupted.

  “Sure, the third one, Katie Jenkins. She went to work, a coffee shop, a grocery store, a nail salon, a hair salon, and the movies the week before she was murdered. The third one just the grocery store and work.”

  “So she’s meeting them at ordinary places, which basically gives us bubkiss.”

  “Bubkiss?”

  “Again, shush, I’m being nostalgic. Leave me alone.” Morgan smirked. “Coffee shop is similar.”

  “Yeah, so is work. Two of them were teachers.”

  “Different schools, districts, and states, though.”

  Pax shrugged. “Still a connection.”

  “Kind of. Not a strong one.” Morgan reached into her pocket and fingered her phone. She had an idea to call Wexford and see what she thought of everything. She seemed to have a brain for the case, but she wasn’t sure after their last encounter if Wexford would even answer the phone, or if she really wanted to call her and bring something up both would rather leave behind.

  “What are you thinking?” Pax asked.

  Morgan shook her head. “That I need more information. That I really want to go to St. Louis.”

  “We could.”

  “Taylor would never approve that, not with only one credit card hit and no car. If we found the car, maybe.”

  Pax nodded his agreement and turned to his computer. “I’m going to work on this trafficking ring. At least we’re making progress there.”

  Snorting, Morgan knew he was right. She had little to nothing on her murderer. She needed something hard, some good evidence as to where she was, but it was as if her killer was a ghost. She made no impact, had no residence, had very little connection to the women other than they were lesbian or at least swayed in that direction of some sort, and Morgan really didn’t want to start a panic within the community.

  She switched to rewatching her interview with Dimitri one more time. He had been very helpful to them, and she had no doubt he would testify once they brought Mr. Jimmy in. Pax had narrowed their suspect list of who Mr. Jimmy could be to only a handful of people. They were strongly looking at a man who lived in the DC area, who had some traces to trafficking cases of old and certainly had the funds to keep it going under the radar if he wanted.

  “I’ll be right back. Need a refill.” Morgan picked up her mug. She turned at the break room, filled it, but instead of going to her desk, she took a left and headed for an empty conference room.

  She couldn’t even sit down, her nerves were running like mad. Morgan paced the room back and forth, flipping her phone from side to side. She wanted so badly to make the call, to hear Fiona’s voice again, to ask her for her help and her opinion on at least the two murders she knew about.

  Nervously, Morgan pulled up Fiona’s contact information. She stared down at the number and shook her head. Instead, she called Amya. It rang three times before it switched to voicemail. Cursing inwardly, Morgan stared down at her phone. She didn’t dare call anyone else in her family. Amya was the one with the least amount of issues and drama, but she was also the only one who cared to listen to Morgan’s own drama.

  Pursing her lips, Morgan held her thumb over Wexford’s number one more time. Clicking it, she wrinkled her nose and brought the phone to her ear. She listened as it rang. And rang. And rang. Fiona’s sweet voice filled her ear. “You’ve reached Detective Wexford. Leave a message.”

  Short, simple, and to the point. Morgan hung up before she could leave a message and then immediately regretted that decision, but she wasn’t about to call Fiona a second time. Her heart had enough damage to it already. Morgan checked her watch, noted the late hour, and decided it would be best if she headed home for the night. With her hot cup of coffee in her hand, she went to her desk and piled all her paperwork together. She issued a curt goodbye to Pax and walked out the door.

  As soon as she got home, she dumped her files onto her kitchen table and laid them out so she could see it all. The first murder, a blank spot for the second one, third, and fourth. There had to be a strong connection between them somewhere.

  Standing up and stretching her back, Morgan pulled off her jacket and her shoulder holster, setting them on the back of her couch. She let out a breath and ran her fingers through her hair as she stared down at the crime scene photos and the evidence she had in front of her. Licking her lips, she walked around her table and stared at it from a different direction.

  Each woman was murdered either during or shortly after sex. Morgan really wished she knew which, because it would give her strong insight to the mind of her killer. There was no sign of breaking and entering, so they’d known the assailant. They’d met her somewhere, willingly brought her to their place of residence.

  Rubbing the back of her knuckles over her lips, Morgan grimaced. Katie had fought back pretty good. They had their killer’s DNA. It was being run through their systems to see if there were any familial matches, but that could easily take weeks if not close to months. There were no drugs in anyone’s systems. Alcohol in victim one. Each house had alcohol in it.

  Morgan swallowed as she leaned over the table. “What the hell is drawing you to these women? It’s not like you’re going to a damn gay bar to find all the lesbians.”

  Clenching her teeth, she jerked when her phone rang. Pulling it out of her bag, she smiled at Amya’s name, but she didn’t answer. She was knee deep in her case, and she wanted to focus on it by herself for a few more hours before she took a break.

  Her alarm went off at midnight. Morgan gathered up all the papers with nothing new to break the case. She had just about memorized every piece of evidence she had, but she had no new epiphanies that night. Shoving the papers into her bag, Morgan stripped the rest of her clothes and left a trail behind her as she made her way to her small bedroom off her living room.

  She got to her bathroom, naked, and stepped under the hot spray of water. She hated not being able to break a case, not being able to get into her perp’s head. It was like she was missing the big picture of everything. Morgan knew this woman was only in it for the basic necessities, to find food and shelter and perhaps even love, but she was unsuccessful each time. The cases that had been found, she didn’t use the stolen cards except the once. Morgan wouldn’t be surprised if she’d ditched them somewhere.

  But the knives. She’d almost forgotten about the knives. Somewhere this woman was keeping the knives she used to stab her victims. She collected them like trophies. Morgan let out a breath. She didn’t stay under the hot spray much longer, wanting to put in a full day of investigating the next day and wanting to make sure she was thinking clearly when she did it.

  After double-checking the locks on her doors, Morgan slid under the covers naked. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what her perp looked like, what she smelled like, what she was thinking every time she went to find a new woman to murder, what she was thinking as she strangled them. Shivering at the last thought, Morgan turned on her side and willed her mind to shut up and let her go to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pax bounced in his shoes waiting for Morgan. She hadn’t really slept the night before, the details of the case churning over in her brain as she laid restlessly in bed and begged for the sandman to show face. She was shit out of luck, though. So when she showed up and Pax looked like a kid in a candy store, she sent him a funny look.

  “Take it you didn’t check your email when you woke up,” he commented.

  “No. I chugged coffee. Which I need more of. Why?”

  He
grinned. “I’ll wait for you to set up.”

  “Coffee?”

  With snark, Pax left her vicinity. Morgan dropped everything on her desk and shoved her files onto her desk top. She rolled her chair out so she could sit properly before hitting the power button on her desktop. It was still slowly booting up when Pax came back with a paper cup filled with coffee.

  Morgan narrowed his eyes at him. He shrugged. “Your cup is gone.”

  “My…shit, I brought it home to wash it and completely forgot.”

  “Guess you’ll just have to kill the planet today. You see it yet?”

  “No. My computer is taking a day and a half to load. Just tell me.”

  “No.”

  Pax plopped down into his chair, turning so he could look over her shoulder at her screen. Morgan glanced at Taylor’s office before she pulled up her email. In it were several unread ones, but one in particular that had her attention. It said, “Please read” in the subject line.

  “This one, I’m assuming.” Morgan opened it up.

  It was a case file from three months ago. She opened the attachment and was gobsmacked. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

  “I just got it.”

  Morgan didn’t bother to look at him. She focused on the case in front of her. It was their second victim. Just as she had suspected, this woman had been stabbed twice in the heart post-mortem. The medical examiner’s report was thorough. Strangled first and then stabbed—hyoid bone broken. She was left in her bed and found three weeks later.

  “Holy shit,” Morgan repeated, words not coming into her brain.

  “I know, right?” Pax commented next to her.

  Morgan shook her head. “How did we not find this case before?”

  “Because someone plead guilty, so it’s not an open case.”

  “You’re shitting me. Who was it?”

  “Some man—” he emphasized the second word “—who claimed he was in love with her. I think he was her neighbor or something.”

  “But it took three weeks to find her?”

  “Stench.”

  “God, I can’t imagine.”