[Harbinger 01.0] Plain Jane

by Carolyn McCray

  They had been analyzing Archie and his friends for an hour. Long ago they had watched Rebecca go to bed. He was rapidly running out of ways to keep Nicole close. Plain Jane had never struck so late, let alone inside someone’s home. He was more of a snatch-and-grab kind of guy.

  Kent made sure to do his ten-point check of the perimeter before pointing to Archie’s shoe. “Now tell me that isn’t a metaphor for male impotence.”

  Nicole nudged him in the ribs. Even that contact felt good, then she leaned away from him and looked around the car. “So why are we in the neighbor’s car?”

  “Look at this angle. You could not buy better positioning.” Kent continued, happy to have another topic to keep her near. “The rear entrance to her house has a motion detector flood light. The yard to the right has a Jack Russell that doesn’t like men. The yard behind hers has a hot wire up for a Labrador, which means the only access left is the frontal portal into the house. Hence the car.”

  “Did you get permission before you—” Nicole interrupted herself. She must have already known the answer. “Never mind.”

  They sat in silence. A silence that stretched on. A silence that needed to be filled before it became awkward. He went to speak, but Nicole was already there. “Kent, I think we need to…I want to…”

  How Kent wished he could hear all of her needs and wants, but off to the left there had been the slightest movement.

  “Did you see that?”

  Nicole’s head spun to look out the window. “What?”

  “Don’t look over there,” he chided. “Feel over there. Use your peripheral vision. Bring that subconscious into play.”

  “Is there movement down that alley?”

  “Yes.” A knot formed in his stomach.

  “Maybe it’s just a tarp caught in the wind.”

  Shaking his head, Kent opened his door. “No. I’ve checked it out already. That was definitely someone moving.”

  He had to give Nicole credit. She didn’t miss a beat. Pulling her gun, she got out as well.

  “You take the front,” Kent instructed as he made his way to the alley.

  CHAPTER 61

  Ruben caught up with the blue team, his backup squad, at the staging area behind Nancy’s garage.

  Stikle, the squad leader, looked behind Ruben. “Where’s Usher?”

  “Called away.” Ruben tried to be brusque enough to halt any inquiry, but one of the squad, a younger guy, snorted.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Excuse me?” Ruben turned. His ego wasn’t in the mood for a ribbing, especially from the Harbinger fan club.

  The younger cop shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Ruben turned back to the Stikle. “All right. We have to let him break in, but we are not, and I repeat, not going to let him hurt her. Understood?”

  “Just give the word.”

  He took the proffered night vision goggles. The trench coat was approaching from the west, the opposite side of the house from Nancy’s bedroom.

  From this angle, he looked just like the man in the video footage, or was that wishful thinking on his part?

  Glancing back, Ruben wasn’t surprised that Nicole was nowhere to be seen. She might have set out to get coffee, but Ruben knew his partner had found something else.

  ***

  Gun drawn, Nicole cautiously made her way to the front door. She lightly tapped on the glass. “Rebecca?”

  No answer. She knocked again.

  Then peered into the windows. The house was dark.

  ***

  Kent kept low to the ground as he made his way down the alley. It was clear. No sign of a break-in.

  Keeping to the shrubs, the profiler made his way to the back door. A loud clunk from inside the house caused Kent to drop to a knee. He waited. Silence.

  The profiler studied the lock. It didn’t look like anyone had tried to pick it, and he had seen Rebecca double-check it before she went to bed.

  Still, Kent reached out and tried the door.

  Unlocked.

  “Shit.”

  ***

  Nicole knocked again. No answer. She knew Rebecca had locked the door, but still she tried it.

  Unlocked.

  “Shit,” she whispered to herself as she whipped out her cell phone. Nicole hit the number one speed dial. Ruben. Her call went to voice mail. No backup.

  She opened the door and stepped inside. “Rebecca?”

  ***

  Ruben watched as the hooded man jimmied the window. This was too perfect. They had him dead to rights. You would be able to eat off this bust, the arrest was going to be just that clean.

  The man pried the window open and slipped in.

  “Move!” Ruben announced and his squad fanned out, covering the exits, storming the house.

  ***

  Kent checked a closet. Clear. He continued down the hallway toward the bathroom. Was that a sound?

  Was there a struggle? The profiler’s pace quickened as the noise got louder. “No!”

  ***

  Nicole heard Kent’s cry and the sound of a muted shout. Without looking, she dialed the number to the station as she ran forward. She didn’t even wait for the person on the line to identify himself. “Usher at 1503 Windham Road, I need backup, and I need it now!”

  ***

  Glass shattered inside the bathroom, but the door was locked. Kent pounded on the door. “Rebecca!”

  Backing up, he kicked the door with full force, splintering it off its hinges. In the dim light, all the profiler could see was a smashed mirror and blood streaking the walls.

  “Rebecca!”

  Throwing back the shower curtain, he found nothing.

  A sound from his left brought him swinging around, aiming at the new threat. But it was only Nicole.

  “Damn it.”

  ***

  Nicole spotted the blood and pushed past Kent into the master bedroom. They were too late. Again too late.

  “Rebecca!”

  A whimper from the closet caught their attention. She and Kent shared a look. The profiler backed up a step and to the side, aiming at the door.

  Lowering her weapon, Nicole jerked the door open. She found the brunette crumpled on the floor.

  “Oh, Rebecca,” Nicole nearly choked on her tears.

  ***

  Kent couldn’t move as he looked over Nicole’s shoulder at the downed woman. That was five. Five women he had failed.

  How in the name of all that’s holy had he failed again?

  The meter maid’s frame rattled. Had Nicole moved her? Then the brunette began sobbing. If she could cry, she could breathe.

  Rebecca was alive.

  ***

  Nicole pulled Rebecca up to check for injuries. Except for a slash on the hand and a nasty scrape across the neck, the brunette was unharmed.

  All that blood, yet she was still alive.

  Bawling, but alive.

  Behind her, Kent checked the room for Plain Jane as Nicole rocked Rebecca back and forth.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  ***

  Kent tossed the bed. He pulled the dresser away from the wall. No perp. A breeze moved the curtains away from an open window. He ran over as sirens sounded in the distance. Sticking his head out, Kent scanned the backyard. Nothing. No one. Plain Jane had gotten away, yet again.

  “Bastard!” The profiler slammed his fist against the windowsill as he shouted at the empty night.

  ***

  Ruben ran full tilt as a scream echoed from the bedroom. Bursting in, he found it wasn’t Nancy’s cries of distress, but the perp’s.

  Glick slammed the suspect against the wall again. “Did you really think we’d leave her here for your sick game?”

  Hands quivering, Ruben got out his cuffs. The ruse had worked perfectly. Hours ago they had snuck Nancy out of the house and left Glick here as their inside man. They had him.

  They had Plain Jane.

  With a snap of his wrist, Ruben cuffed
the sicko.

  “Good work,” Glick commented.

  Ruben shook his head. “No, sir. It’s your bust.”

  “We’ll split it,” the captain said as he patted him on the shoulder, then looked around. “Where’s Usher?”

  CHAPTER 62

  Nicole rocked the brunette back and forth, murmuring reassuringly, as the sirens got closer and closer.

  “It’s okay, Rebecca.”

  Kent had disappeared into the bathroom.

  “You’re safe, I promise,” Nicole continued.

  Rebecca finally lifted her chin. Her face streaked with tears. “Nicole?” The brunette swallowed. “What are you…?”

  She smoothed back Rebecca’s damp hair. “I should have told you. I’m not a writer. I’m a detective.” Nicole met her eyes. “Rebecca, I need you to tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t…” she stammered. “What?”

  “We think it was Plain Jane who attacked you tonight.”

  For the first time Rebecca seemed to focus, pulling her nightgown tighter around her shoulders. “He… He grabbed me from behind. Tried to cut my neck.” She showed her the large, red hand-sized splotches and shallow cut. “But I… I lashed out…” As if she had not noticed the wound before, Rebecca looked down at her cut hand. “I missed him but hit the mirror. Shattered it. There was glass everywhere, then…” Groaning, the woman doubled over, rocking again. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God…”

  Nicole held her tight. “You’re safe, I promise.” She waited until Rebecca’s sobs abated.

  “I need to know, though, did you injure him?”

  “No. He just ran off.”

  “Ran off?” Nicole looked up to find Kent standing just behind her. “Did we interrupt him?”

  The profiler shook his head. “Nope. He’s desperate. He would have tried, just like last night.”

  “Then why did he leave?”

  Kent tossed an item to Nicole. She caught it in midair, then turned it over. It was a pregnancy test.

  “It’s positive,” she realized, catching up.

  “I don’t understand,” the brunette said, half-dazed.

  Nicole hugged Rebecca. “You’re pregnant.”

  “I know. I mean. That’s what I was doing—”

  The brunette melted into tears, clutching Nicole as if her very life depended on it.

  “He couldn’t take a womb that was already in use.”

  Nicole’s phone rang, startling her. The caller ID showed it was her partner.

  Brusquely, she answered. “I need you over here.”

  She couldn’t believe her partner’s answer.

  CHAPTER 63

  By Nicole’s tone of voice, it could only be Ruben on the other end of the line. “What? No, but we—”

  Harbinger knew it wasn’t good news by the blotches appearing on Nicole’s cheeks. She nodded several times, then obviously interrupted Torres.

  “We’ll be there as soon as we’re—” Nicole listened, teeth clenched, then finally, “Okay, okay. Be there in ten.”

  “More drama?” Kent asked as EMTs rushed into the room and quickly extracted Rebecca from Nicole.

  The detective pulled him aside as the medics tended to Rebecca’s wounds. “They caught him.”

  “Who?”

  There was a gulp before she answered, “Plain Jane.”

  “Where?”

  “Over at Nancy’s house.”

  That didn’t make any sense. Nicole must not have heard Ruben correctly. “But there is no way the killer could have made the thirty blocks in less than ten minutes.”

  Any relief from finding Rebecca alive had completely drained from Nicole’s face. “He did not. Plain Jane hit Nancy’s house, not here.”

  Kent backed away as the EMTs loaded Rebecca onto a gurney. “No way. No how. This was Plain Jane.”

  “We need to head over to the station—”

  “I can smell him, Nicole. Smell him. Just feel this room. He was here. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you?”

  Nicole looked away. “They are taking the suspect in for interrogation. I suggest if you want answers, we should head over there.”

  He watched Nicole head to the front of the house. Kent looked around the dim bedroom one last time. He would go with her. He would look at this supposed suspect, but his confidence was unshaken.

  The killer had been here tonight.

  Of that, Kent had no doubt.

  CHAPTER 64

  Ruben sat across from Plain Jane.

  The Plain Jane.

  The city’s worst serial killer in recorded history.

  Sure, he had captured other murderers. Interrogated dozens of them. Extracted confessions from many of them. But he’d never actually been this close to a bona fide serial killer before.

  It wasn’t quite the heady experience he had expected.

  The guy looked like any other suspect. Maybe a little calmer than most, but still his eyes darted toward the door. Perps were always the same. Even though this one had declined counsel and signed his waiver, the creep still expected someone to come through that door and save him.

  But the door stayed closed. Ruben let the guy stew for a bit. He let the drab gray cinder block walls press in. Let the guy study the cracked paint and that long red smear behind Ruben. It looked like clotted blood but was actually an old ketchup stain. They left it there for the effect.

  For the same reason, Ruben had turned off the room’s heater. The northern storm’s cold air was quickly seeping through the walls and single-paned windows. The perp’s respiratory rate increased the longer Ruben just sat there. Let him get cold. Let his balls retract up into his belly.

  They had him dead to rights on the break-in and even attempted murder. The DA could take this case to trial right now and have the jury come back with a guilty verdict in two minutes flat.

  No, that’s not what this interrogation was about. It was about the other seven women. Joann, Claudia, and all the rest. For that they were going to need some solid forensic evidence, but even better, a confession.

  Without Nicole here to play the good cop, he’d have to take a stab at it himself. Build rapport with the guy. He had studied enough texts, including Harbinger’s, on interviewing serial killers to know the stock barrage of questioning was not only unnecessary, but put them at the disadvantage.

  Most serial killers wanted to tell their stories, you just had to give them their venue. Make them think you cared enough for them to share.

  It galled Ruben. Cut across the grain to soften his tone, but he needed to show as much finesse as Harbinger. Even more.

  “Martin. Can I call you Martin?” Ruben began.

  The perp shrugged.

  “Martin, where’d you get the scalpel?”

  “It’s mine.”

  “Obviously. Your prints were all over the handle,” Ruben commented. This was one interrogation he was going to relish. Even more so once Harbinger arrived. Let the profiler sit in the galley and watch for once. “Well, Martin, where did you get it?”

  “A friend.”

  “Really? Because according to your neighbors, you don’t have a lot of friends.”

  “That’s not true!”

  Ruben watched Martin’s eyes dart. This interrogation was going like clockwork. Now that he had gotten a rise out of the perp, Ruben needed to cajole him. “So? Prove them wrong. Who’s your friend?”

  “A buddy. He works on Farmshire Ranch.”

  Ruben couldn’t help but allow a small grin to form. He had been right this whole time. It had been an equine handle all along. Kent was going to eat crow for a month.

  CHAPTER 65

  Kent held the door open for Nicole, obviously surprising her with his newfound manners. When working a case, his gentlemanly skills usually suffered. Oh, who was he kidding? He never held much stock in chivalry.

  Bending her head slightly in appreciation, she passed into the observation room, which looked like those in any other precinct. Really it was
just a narrow hall looking over two one-way mirrors

  Glick was the only inhabitant, and he didn’t even bother to look over to know who came in. “Good thing one of you stayed at Nancy’s.”

  Nicole looked down, but Kent didn’t give a shit what the captain thought. The profiler was here to confirm that Ruben hadn’t accidentally hit the serial killer jackpot, then head back out. Clear his head. Completely wipe the slate clean of all preconceptions and find a new bead on the killer.

  Plain Jane had given over so much of himself in the past few days. So many clues. So many tells. The genesis for his uterus craving. The fact that he could not take a ripe womb.

  So much, yet Kent still grasped at tendrils of smoke. After he dismissed this suspect, he would go back to the beginning. The profiler would do some very specific research.

  Arriving at the one-way mirror, Kent stared at the so-called “Plain Jane” killer. The guy scratched at his palm, eyes darting back and forth like he was watching a tennis game.

  “So this is the mastermind that killed over thirty women?” Kent asked no one in particular.

  “Plain Jane,” Glick proudly announced.

  Kent chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

  Nicole fired him a look, but he just chuckled as he turned toward the exit.

  “Don’t you even want to talk to him?” Nicole asked.

  “We caught him dead to rights breaking into Nancy’s house,” Glick chimed in. “Scalpel in hand.”

  Kent sneered. “Do you really think that’s what a prolific serial killer acts like under interrogation? They’re cold as ice or warm as a peach on a spring day. They’re not nervous or worried or even the slightest bit out of sorts. They’re more in control than the interrogator.”

  She took a step closer. “You say that all the time, but couldn’t one be different? Couldn’t one act just like Martin to throw us off?”

  “How do you think Dahmer convinced the cops to give him back his captive? Do you really think he stood there with shifty eyes and itchy palms? Or Vansalez talked his way out of a speeding ticket with three torsos in the backseat?”

  Even though he was answering Nicole, he glared at Glick. This was a waste of time. Kent didn’t need to go in there and prove Martin wasn’t Plain Jane. The evidence would do it for him while he was out actually catching the killer.