by Karen Rose
There was silence between Deacon and Adam, heavy and awkward.
Deacon cleared his throat. ‘Where is Greg?’
‘I couldn’t leave him at your house, so I brought him with me. I sent him to the hospital cafeteria with the cop who was guarding Arianna’s room, just in case the punk from his school finds out where he is and tries to make more trouble. What the hell happened? Greg wouldn’t tell me. How was Dani threatened?’
Deacon gave him the quick version, feeling more helpless every time he told it.
Adam shook his head. ‘Why didn’t Greg come to me first? I could have helped him.’
Deacon shrugged. ‘You haven’t exactly been around for the past month.’ He hadn’t meant it to come out sounding like an accusation. Did I? Honestly, he was too weary to know for sure.
Adam’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘Now you know how we’ve felt for the past fifteen years.’
Deacon flinched. ‘That’s not fair and you know it. I tried to get custody of Greg before and Jim always fought me. Should I have just kidnapped him?’ He shook his head, unwilling to go on. ‘Never mind. I’m here now, and I’m trying to do the right thing.’
‘You’re right. You did try. I’m sorry. What is the right thing for Greg?’
‘I truly don’t know. He did it for the right reasons, but he knowingly broke the rules.’
‘And now Agent Pope’s family has to live with the consequences.’
‘That I’m not so sure about.’ Deacon told him what he and Bishop had discussed.
Adam’s expression became openly cynical. ‘Are you saying that you think Pope was stabbed by the killer we’re looking for, with the same knife the high-school kid just happened to have shown half of Greg’s school? The killer who has shot every other victim thus far?’
Deacon’s defenses rose, but he kept his cool. ‘It’s what I’m suggesting. If Combs is involved, he used a knife on Faith. And this killer did slice at least one victim’s hamstrings. Plus, Arianna is proof that he cuts his victims. You don’t agree that it’s at least a possibility?’
‘I think it might be a little convenient. And detrimental to Greg. He needs to own up to the consequences of his actions, not have you trying to get him off the hook.’
The accusation stunned Deacon. ‘Buy into the possibility of this killer stabbing Pope or don’t, but do not question my integrity.’ The breath he drew filled his mouth with the taste of disinfectant, reminding him that he was standing outside a victim’s room in the ICU ward. Stick to business. Sort through all the personal shit later. Brusquely he flipped through the to-do list he’d stored on his phone. ‘Have you determined when the tracker was placed on Faith’s Jeep?’
‘I was in the middle of that when I got the call about Agent Pope,’ Adam replied, also tensely businesslike. ‘I’ll go finish it now.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see you in Isenberg’s office for the debriefing.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Adam said, and walked away without another word.
Deacon flagged down a nurse. ‘May I use a landline, please?’
She pointed to an empty room. ‘That one is unoccupied, but that could change on a dime.’
Closing himself into the small room, Deacon called Isenberg to give her a heads-up on his theory about Pope’s murder. He didn’t want to blindside her and he certainly didn’t want her to react like Adam just had. Although if she did, it wouldn’t hurt nearly so much.
Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 11.45 P.M.
He went straight to bed. So damn tired. He’d spread himself too thinly this time. He never should have grabbed Corinne, not until he’d been sure that Faith was dead. But he’d been so frustrated that morning after the fire in Miami. Everyone had poured out of that building like rats from a sinking ship. Except for Faith. Because she hadn’t been there.
He felt a twinge of pain in his jaw and realized he was grinding his teeth again. Faith should be dead already. Years ago. But she just wouldn’t die. He’d returned home so agitated, his temper raging almost past his ability to cage it. He couldn’t lose it. When he did, he did stupid things. So he’d grabbed Corinne. Just to take the pressure off.
Which had turned out to be just as stupid. He should never have taken her. And when things got crazy, he should have just killed her and buried her with the Earl Power guy and that damn locksmith.
He frowned. And the boy. A trespasser. A squatter. That’s right. He’d shot him and buried him with the other two. He shouldn’t have forgotten about the boy that quickly.
I’m just tired. A few hours of sleep would re-sharpen his mind. It was good that he hadn’t killed Corinne, he reminded himself. She was going to be his bait for Faith. And once he’d drawn Faith out into the open, he’d kill both women, snipping off the worst of his loose ends.
That left Roza. He eyed his bedroom, kept neat as a pin by Jade for ten years now. But Jade had become too old for him. Roza would soon be old enough to take over her responsibilities. When that time came, he’d dispose of Jade and bring Roza here to serve his needs.
‘Jade!’ he thundered. ‘Come here!’
She appeared a minute later, stumbling and sleepy-eyed. ‘I’m sorry. I fell asleep.’
‘Have I had any calls?’
‘No. None.’
‘Good. I need to get some rest. If anyone calls, tell them I’m not here. If anyone knocks, do not open the door. If it’s the police, you are still not to open the door, but come and wake me immediately. Are we clear?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, sir. But . . . what if the police have a warrant? And guns?’
‘They can’t get a warrant. They have nothing on which to base it. I will sleep now. When I wake, I expect steak and eggs.’ He needed the protein to give him energy. ‘That is all.’
‘I’ll keep everything quiet so that you can rest.’
‘See that you do.’ After she’d left, he got up and double bolted the door. Then he stripped out of his clothes and added them to the garbage bag that held what he’d worn as he’d dealt with the man whose home he’d borrowed.
And that kid too. The punk. See, memory’s good. No worries. He could remember every moment of killing that boy. No quick shot in the head for that punk. Au contraire.
What. A. High. That was his drug of choice. When this was over and he’d found somewhere to begin again, he’d include a few punks like the one he’d butchered today. He enjoyed the women, but there had been something satisfying about showing that kid who was boss.
He set his alarm, stretched out on his bed, and let himself drift into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cincinnati, Ohio, Wednesday 5 November, 12.35 A.M.
‘This is your desk?’ Greg asked, disappointed. ‘It’s . . . boring.’
‘That’s because most of our work is boring,’ Deacon said, pulling out his desk chair for Faith. ‘The past few days have been unique.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Faith murmured as she sat down.
They’d come straight from the hospital, the interview with Arianna taking so long that Deacon had had to rush to get to Isenberg’s debriefing without dropping off Greg and Faith first. Not that he knew where he would have taken them. His house was still a crime scene.
He needed a safe place for them to stay tonight. He wanted a soft bed for Faith and he wanted to sleep in it with her. He’d gotten a short catnap while Bishop and Faith had been in with Arianna, but it hadn’t been long enough to blunt the edge of his exhaustion. Had they not just interviewed their only witness, he would have called it a night already. But Arianna had given Bishop information that needed to be disseminated to the team.
He needed to stay upright and lucid a little bit longer.
‘Just sit tight,’ he said. ‘I’ll get this debriefing done as quickly as possible. And Greg, if you think about touching a computer, I’ll . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Just don’t go there.’
Greg ducked his head. ‘I won’t,’ he said sullenly. ‘Jeez, D.’
Deacon squeezed his brother’s shoulder before turning for the conference room, where Isenberg, Tanaka and ME Carrie Washington were already waiting, all three looking as tired as he did.
‘You got the victim’s statement?’ Isenberg asked as he and Bishop sat down.
‘I did,’ Bishop said. ‘Where’s Kimble?’
‘I don’t know. He called me to talk about your theory, Novak.’
‘And?’
‘I told him what I told you: it bears looking into. He wasn’t exactly pleased.’
Bishop’s expression went dark. ‘What am I missing here?’
‘Adam didn’t agree with my take on Pope’s murder,’ Deacon said. ‘He thinks I’m trying to get Greg off the hook.’
Bishop’s mouth fell open. ‘That boy needs help. And I’m not talking about Greg.’
Isenberg tapped the table. ‘We’ll get started without him.’
Deacon nodded at Bishop. ‘Scarlett, you first. What did Arianna tell you?’
‘She was blindfolded and tied to a metal table until the girl, Roza, released her. She said that he always wore gloves, which is probably why we haven’t found any usable prints. He had a lot of knives and he used them on her. Inside and out. He raped her at least twice. It might have been more, but she could have been too drugged to remember. He’d tell her that he’d killed Corinne and he’d tell her how. He’d play her tapes of screaming. And then he’d tell her that he’d lied. That Corinne was alive, and that how much torture she endured would depend on how much Arianna fought him. He went back and forth, several times.’
‘He was trying to break her,’ Deacon said.
‘Exactly. Dr Fallon agreed. She was quite good in the interview, actually. We should consider using her in the future. She pulled things from Arianna’s memory that I might not have been able to get on my own, because Arianna’s had bad experiences with cops. He’s local, we’re pretty sure. He’s a baritone and slightly nasal, about six feet tall and broad-chested. But soft.’
Deacon frowned. ‘Soft?’
‘“Not buff.”’ Bishop used air quotes. ‘She said that after he shot her, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the van. She was fighting him at that point. The drug hadn’t completely kicked in. She said she hit him with her fists and he didn’t have muscles. Which, unfortunately, crosses all of our big guys – Combs, Keith and Stone – off the list.’
‘How reliable is that sensory memory, though?’ Washington asked. ‘She was drugged.’
‘I know, and I agree. I’m just telling you what she said. She said there was some kind of flashing light toward the end and he got very freaked out. She heard what she thought was him putting his knives in a toolbox. She also heard him moving glass jars and muttering, “No one will get my things.” She said he’d been confident and cruel up until then, but just before he left he sounded like “a homeless crazy guy”.’
‘“My things” could be his collection – his souvenirs,’ Carrie said. ‘Have you found them?’
‘No,’ Tanaka said. ‘We’ve been looking for bodies. Luckily, we’ve found none outside.’
‘Well that’s something, at least,’ Deacon said. ‘What about inside?’
‘Dr Johannsen and her assistant wanted to check the outside of the property first. They’ll come back tomorrow for the basement floor.’
Isenberg gave Tanaka a nod. ‘Good news there. Anything else from the victim, Scarlett?’
Bishop’s reply was interrupted by the door opening. Adam came in carrying a box under one arm. He gave Isenberg a nod and sat down at the far end of the table. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
Isenberg gave him a long, long stare before turning back to Bishop. ‘You were saying?’
‘That Arianna was most worried that he’d sexually assaulted her and didn’t use a condom. She didn’t want a pregnancy or STD to follow her for the rest of her life as a constant reminder.’
‘How did she know he didn’t use a condom?’ Isenberg asked.
Bishop scowled. ‘Because at one point he untied one of her hands, held a knife to her throat and made her put him in. He told her that she wanted it. That she liked it.’
Deacon kept a lid on his temper. ‘Sonofabitch. If he kept his victims long enough and did that often enough, he’d have them believing it. He knows victim psychology very well.’
‘He must, because he gagged her so that she couldn’t bite him and bound her fingers so that she couldn’t scratch or grab. He kept telling her she was a fighter, but that he’d break her. That he hadn’t enjoyed himself so much since he “did the cop”.’
‘Deputy Simpson,’ Isenberg said, her jaw hard.
Bishop nodded. ‘Arianna wasn’t sure if he’d really abducted a cop or he was just trying to prove how macho he was. Being tough seemed to be important to him. She considered the fact that he seemed threatened by her to be a compliment. It’s how she got through that particular assault.’
‘Gutsy,’ Isenberg said. ‘It’ll help her make it. Anything else?’
Bishop checked her notes. ‘Yes. He was hairless in his groin, chest and legs. Smooth as a baby’s butt. She wasn’t sure if he was hairless on his head because he didn’t force her to touch him there. She thought he must have waxed.’
‘Makes sense,’ Deacon said. ‘He might not have worried about dropping hair in his own basement, but he wouldn’t want to drop any for Forensics to find while he’s grabbing his victims. What else?’
‘Wait,’ Carrie said with a puzzled frown. ‘Let’s go back to the sexual assault. Did the live victim’s rape kit test positive for semen? Because none of the deceased victims’ kits have so far.’
‘No, it didn’t.’ Bishop rubbed her forehead. ‘It was positive for sexual assault, but not for fluids. Dammit. Now her story doesn’t hold together.’
‘Maybe he didn’t ejaculate,’ Deacon said.
‘According to her, he did, or he was an amazing actor.’
‘He might orgasm and still not ejaculate,’ Carrie said. ‘It’s something else to note.’
‘What are the causes in those cases?’ Deacon asked. ‘It could be a lead.’
‘Certain illnesses. Certain drugs. Certain kinds of surgeries, because they damage the nerve pathways that control flow. I can make you a list.’
‘Do that,’ Bishop murmured. ‘Imagine the freedom that would allow him, if he could rape women without a condom and still have no chance of DNA being linked back to him.’
Carrie nodded. ‘Not ejaculating semen could be quite a perk, but also a curse. Just like women can feel incomplete if they can’t conceive, the inability to impregnate can make men feel incomplete. My old roommate from med school is an infertility specialist,’ she added when they all stared at her, the men wincing. ‘Shop talk over wine.’
‘I don’t want to have wine with you,’ Tanaka muttered.
Carrie’s lips twitched. ‘One thing you should consider is that just because he doesn’t ejaculate doesn’t mean that he doesn’t produce sperm. It might mean simply that his body doesn’t have a way to get it out. Every so often, a few will escape. And there are some drugs that help this along. Like pseudoephedrine.’
‘Allergy medicine?’ Isenberg asked. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously,’ Carrie said. ‘The other MEs and I only did standard swabs on the first six victims we examined. Now that I know this, we’ll go back and look more closely at those six and pay special attention to the remaining four. We may get lucky. Or he could have just been a good actor and wanted Arianna to believe he was finishing.’
‘Which means he’s an impotent little prick,’ Bishop said. ‘But at least that eliminates Arianna’s fears about pregnancy for now.’ She sighed. ‘He was trying to get her to scream, especially at the beginning, but nothing worked so he tried an electrical probe. She was ashamed, but we couldn’t believe she held out as long as she did. After she screamed the first time, he went back to the knives, which he seemed to prefer. Importantly, he cut that torture session s
hort, because something – or someone – disturbed him enough that he left a little while later.’
‘Faith,’ Deacon said. ‘He must have seen her at the cemetery with his cameras.’ He frowned, something nagging him. Something was missing. ‘You said he left a little while later. How much later?’
‘Maybe fifteen minutes? Arianna said that he was slicing into her skin, and she thought she saw a flashing light at the edge of her blindfold. Then she didn’t feel or hear him at all for a minute, and she thought he left because she heard the door close. He came back a few minutes later, and that’s when he packed what she thought were the knives into his toolbox. After that she slept. She doesn’t have an idea of times, but he came back and bellowed for Roza. After that, he didn’t come back for a long time.’
Deacon realized what he’d missed. ‘He didn’t follow Faith. He went back down to the basement. We assumed that’s how he knew which hotel she was in, but he didn’t follow her. So how did he know where she went?’
‘He had to have already put the tracker on,’ Bishop said. ‘But that doesn’t make sense either. If he was tracking her, how did she surprise him like that? She’d been driving for two days. Surely he would have seen her coming.’
Adam spoke up. ‘He had to have found her sometime before nine A.M. Monday morning, because he didn’t attach the tracker to her Jeep until then.’
Cincinnati, Ohio, Wednesday 5 November, 12.55 A.M.
Faith fired up her laptop, eyeing the door to the conference room uncertainly. Wondering what was going on in there, because Deacon and Bishop had been gone for a while. Wondering what the hell to make of Adam Kimble, who was broody one moment, then decent the next.
‘What?’ Greg asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. It’s just that your cousin confuses me a little.’
Greg’s bi-colored eyes darted to the office door. ‘He’s been like that since D came back, almost like he’s jealous, but he got Deacon the job. So I don’t get it either.’
‘Adam got Deacon the job here? With Lieutenant Isenberg?’ Elbows on Deacon’s desk, she propped her chin on her fists. ‘Tell me all,’ she said conspiratorially.