The Harbinger Collection: Hard-boiled Mysteries Not for the Faint of Heart (A McCray Crime Collection)

by Carolyn McCray

  Kent’s eyebrow went up. “So did he wash her down, or had she just taken a shower?”

  Nicole shook her head. “It wasn’t him.” She leaned even closer, taking a sniff. “There’s a hint of chlorine.”

  “Chlorine?” Joshua repeated.

  Nicole nodded. “I think she’d gone swimming earlier tonight.”

  Kent reached out his hand and helped her down from the dumpster. After brushing off the stray gum wrappers from her pant leg, she looked up into his eyes.

  “You see some significance with that?” he asked.

  Nicole was hesitant to speak her theory. It felt odd to have an insight before Kent. Like it couldn’t be true if he hadn’t noticed it already.

  “Spit it out,” Kent said.

  Before she could, Ruben entered the crime scene. “Starting without me?”

  “That’s what she said,” Kent muttered under his breath.

  Nicole elbowed him. “Just thought you’d like the time off.”

  “So you didn’t bother to call me about another body?” Ruben said, his cheeks flushed.

  “We figured Paggie needed the company,” Kent said, making Ruben flush even more.

  “I can take care of my own relationships, thank you.”

  Kent shrugged, nodding toward Nicole. “Evidence to the contrary.”

  She stepped between the two men. A common occurrence, unfortunately.

  “Ruben, just like the others, there probably isn’t going to be any evidence left behind.”

  “Yet, here you two are,” Ruben said. “I expect this juvenile crap from him, but you? Aren’t we still partners?”

  Nicole felt stuck in the middle, literally. But hadn’t she made her choices? “We are. I swear, Ruben, no offense was meant.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Kent interjected.

  The profiler really did not help in these situations. She could see Ruben’s hands ball up into fists. The last thing they needed was a physical encounter between these two, again.

  Luckily, Joshua was just socially maladjusted enough to not feel the friction.

  “So, you were saying, about the chlorine?” the morgue assistant asked.

  Now it felt even more awkward to state her opinion. She had another person to be humiliated in front of. But she wasn’t a schoolgirl, and this wasn’t her first rodeo. She had to buck up.

  “Obviously Tosha, our newest victim, was an avid swimmer. My guess is she had a membership to a club that she used frequently.”

  Unlike herself. Nicole had been remiss recently, not going to the gym. Honestly, since breaking up with Ruben she hadn’t been as consistent, but after hitting on that woman at the gym to practice her seduction skills, she’d been downright absent from there. Another thing she needed to buck up. If she saw the woman again, she would just need to deal with the consequences of her actions.

  “How do you know that?” Ruben asked.

  “The blonde in her weave has a hint of green. That’s chronic chlorine exposure.”

  Nicole glanced over to the profiler. No wonder he was so messed up. Having to think and act like a killer took its toll. But now it was Nicole’s turn.

  “Anyway, we know that Trudy wasn’t just a streetwalker—literally. She had a treadmill at home. She walked at least ten miles a week.”

  “And?” Ruben asked, but Kent’s eyes darted back and forth. He clearly was already processing her theory.

  “Annabelle was a bicyclist. Victim number three ran marathons…”

  “So they were all athletic,” Ruben stated. “But not the same sport, or even the same gym.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Kent mumbled in agreement. “A wallflower that is athletic, now that is a specific type.”

  That’s what Nicole had thought. One usually thought of a wallflower as being soft, unassuming, yet each of these women had been dedicated to a sport.

  “Very interesting,” Kent muttered. “That changes everything.”

  Nicole knew that she shouldn’t take such pride in surprising Kent, yet she did. So seldom did he leak out praise, you kind of had to take it to heart when he did.

  “Impressive,” he said. “I don’t know if I would have made that connection.”

  Again, pride beamed in Nicole’s chest. Maybe she would become a profiler herself one day.

  “Where’s Yvent?” Ruben asked. Speaking of the profiler in training.

  “Sabbath,” Joshua said. “Personally, I think God wants us to catch a killer more than meditate, but hey, that’s just me.”

  Only Joshua would say something so incredibly politically incorrect. Not that she didn’t agree with him, but say it out loud? Not very likely.

  “What do we do with this information?” Ruben asked.

  Kent’s eyes seemed bright and sharp in the dim light. “Nothing tonight. Any wallflower worth her salt is home in bed.”

  “What about tomorrow, then?” Ruben asked.

  “I already had the instinct to go to a college library. It felt like wallflower central, but now that I know she is also an athlete? Priceless.”

  “He also hasn’t taken a woman that enjoys the same sport twice,” Nicole mentioned. “As of now, he’s pretty much taken the common sports.”

  “Which means a college, with its plethora of collegiate activities, would be the next step,” Kent agreed.

  Nicole couldn’t help but notice that Kent had already honed in on an extremely viable location before he even had a clue about the sports angle.

  This was why she put up with all of his eccentricities.

  “So,” Kent said to Ruben. “We are going home to our own extracurricular activities. Want to tag along? Take notes?”

  Okay, it really was a good thing he was the best profiler in the world, or him baiting poor Ruben like this would so not go over well.

  “Kent, stop it.”

  “What?” he said in feigned shock. “I’m just trying to help.”

  * * *

  Nicole elbowed Kent. You’d think his left fourth rib would get used to it. She did it often enough.

  “Whatcha guys up to now?” Joshua asked.

  Kent’s first instinct was to say go home, but then a thought struck him. “What weekend is this?”

  Nicole frowned. “May 8th.”

  “No, I mean what happens on Monday at most campuses around the country?”

  “Finals!” Joshua chimed in.

  Kent winked at the odd morgue assistant. Even he deserved a gold star on occasion.

  “What has that got to—” Nicole stopped herself. “The one time when wallflowers might be up late…”

  “Studying hard at the library,” Kent said, touching his finger to his nose. She’d hit it perfectly. “Would you like to join me?”

  “Would I?” Nicole said, taking his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Joshua waved as they walked away. “No worries, I’ll stay here sorting through trash until McGregor decides to show up.”

  “You do that!” Kent encouraged as they headed to her Mustang. For the first time on this case, Kent felt truly hopeful. He was starting to get a real feel for this guy’s type. The athleticism revelation helped fill in many of the blanks. And it helped to significantly narrow the victim pool. This guy had looked hard and long for his specific phenotype. Which was good. The more specific the serial killer’s victim, the easier it was to intersect him. And, let’s be honest, searching through a bunch of coeds was certainly more pleasant than his usual trolling grounds. Not that he was going to share that little insight with Nicole.

  CHAPTER 10

  Nicole had to suppress none too happy memories as she entered the university’s library. She wasn’t all that good at school. She got good grades, but that was more by brute force than by any kind of actual smarts.

  She’d worked for each and every “A” she’d ever gotten. The number of hours she’d spent in the library was by no means voluntary, and the amount of caffeine she’d ingested? Let’s just say she wouldn’t b
e surprised if one day she had kidney failure.

  Glancing around at the various students with their heads down and noses in their books, she found it hard to believe that anyone did this by choice. She glanced over to the profiler, who looked as if a library was a foreign land. Of course, Kent had sailed through college. He didn’t even go to class, let alone the library. Just one more reason for people to hate him. No one liked it when something came easily to someone else, especially when they flaunted it.

  And if she were being honest, there were times it pissed her off how seemingly effortlessly everything came to him. Of course, there was a cost to that gift. She knew how hard it was for her to barely skim the surface of a serial killer’s twisted thoughts. Kent was usually neck deep in them. Like now, she could tell he was hunting already. He’d dropped her hand. His pace slowed, and his gaze lingered on those they passed. The profiler was weighing each and every one of them as a possible victim.

  Nicole tried to do the same. Who would she pick? Which once of these students would arouse the killer’s interest?

  They all looked so similar, though. There were so many college sweatshirts in here that it looked like a sales kiosk. Just about every girl wore a neat ponytail and had a huge jug of coffee beside her.

  The only ones that Nicole could immediately eliminate were the one with a dragon’s tail tattoo along her neck and another with pink highlights in her hair. Other than that, the women seemed interchangeable. Some had glasses, some didn’t. But the killer didn’t seem attracted to or repulsed by eyewear.

  Kent, however, guided them through the maze of tables to the back left corner, where he sat down. “Grab a book.”

  “Right,” Nicole said, snatching a large volume off the re-shelving stack. It was bad enough that they were far outside the age range of the rest of the students, they didn’t need to be looking like they were loitering, as well.

  Sitting down, Nicole opened the book and thumbed through it.

  “Well?” Kent asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Have you picked your favorite?”

  Nicole had barely surveyed the students, let alone settled on one. Why, oh why was Kent always so far ahead? Honesty was the only way through this. “No.”

  The profiler pushed up his sleeves. “Okay, let’s work it through.”

  Nicole both loved and hated these times. She hated having to be walked through situations like a child—however, it was an opportunity for her to see inside of Kent’s mind. And the guy was pretty good looking, but it was his brain that set her on fire.

  Her gaze passed over the library. “A hint?”

  “If the haystack is too big, then figure out a way to make it smaller.”

  That wasn’t so much of a hint as it was a challenge. There was a mixture of blondes, brunettes and redheads. However, the killer had targeted each. It didn’t seem to be so much hair or eye color, but something else.

  “Target the largest common denominator,” Kent suggested.

  That would have to be attire. The sweatshirts. Then it hit Nicole. “He wouldn’t pick someone with a lot of school spirit. That would be too forward a characteristic.”

  Kent nodded sagely. “See how easy it is?”

  Without his prompt, Nicole wasn’t sure if she’d have ever made that connection, but now that he brought it up, it made perfect sense. Now that they had eliminated three quarters of the women studying, Nicole focused on the handful left.

  There were five women who were sitting alone. One had an engagement ring, so that took her off the list immediately. The rest had that lonely, single look about them. When the front door opened, none of them looked up. They were not expecting anyone to join them.

  “The one at the front?” Nicole suggested. She had the vibe of the other victims.

  “Listen to yourself,” Kent said. “The one at the front?”

  Nicole sighed. Of course not the one at the front. Wallflower wouldn’t want anyone that bold. He was looking for someone in the middle of the pack.

  “Which eliminates the woman at the far back corner?” Nicole asked.

  Kent nodded. “He doesn’t want an outlier.”

  That left only the two women in the center of the library. Each looked equally nondescript. It sounded horribly un-politically correct, since beauty should come from within, but Nicole struggled to study them. Her eyes kept slipping over them and wanting to look at the stunning blonde near the checkout desk.

  Patting her hand, Kent reassured her. “Don’t feel bad, we are hardwired to appreciate beauty.”

  How had he even known she was struggling? Unless he was himself. How did that make her feel?

  “Did you know that babies will look at pictures of stunning women longer than their own mother? It is that genetically baked into us to seek out attractive women. This is both baby boys and girls. Interesting, eh?”

  “It does explain a lot,” Nicole agreed.

  “Like reality television,” Kent said with a smirk. “Now, which of these two is our woman?”

  Nicole got back down to it, but she couldn’t decide. “They seem like identical Wallflower material.”

  “Really?” Kent said. And, by his tone, she knew she was missing something. Something big. “Would you sit where the one near the copier is?”

  Nicole looked to the woman. She had her back to the door. “Never.”

  “Exactly,” Kent said. “She doesn’t have very refined self-protective skills.”

  “Easier to stalk and catch…” Nicole said.

  Kent pointed “his” phone at the woman and took a picture of the woman near the copier, then took a picture of their other possible victim.

  * * *

  “Yo!” Jimmi answered, a whole lot more chipper.

  “I just texted you a couple of pictures. They are students at the university. How quickly can you get me their personal info?”

  “Depends,” the tech said. “Do we have a warrant?”

  “Of course we do,” Kent lied.

  “For real?” Jimmi pressed.

  “When have I ever lied to you?”

  “Um, just every time I’ve ever asked you if we had a warrant,” Jimmi responded.

  “Nicole is on the other line getting one,” Kent admitted. He liked it so much better when Jimmi just blindly believed him.

  “Have her text me once you’ve got it,” Jimmi stated.

  The tech had gotten so touchy after getting exposed to a possible multi-million-dollar lawsuit. The guy needed to get thicker skin.

  Nicole clicked her phone shut. “The warrants are in the works. Now what do we do?”

  “Arrange for round-the-clock surveillance of our girl,” Kent said. “But we need people who look like college students. Anyone who looks even vaguely like law enforcement is going to scare our guy off.”

  Nicole frowned. “That could take a while to find someone to fit the bill.”

  Kent cocked his head in that way that he did when he thought she wasn’t thinking hard enough. “Come on, I think we both know someone who doesn’t look at all like law enforcement.”

  * * *

  Joshua nearly dropped his phone into some old spaghetti sauce.

  “Yes, yes, of course I’d love to stalk her!” Joshua nearly shouted, causing everyone at the crime scene to turn their head toward him.

  “Please, just ignore him,” McGregor said. “Don’t encourage him.”

  “I mean provide surveillance,” Joshua corrected himself. “I’ll be right over!”

  He didn’t care who stared as he hopped over the side of the dumpster and pulled off his stained booties.

  “Who’s going to help me with the body?” McGregor asked. “Or does ever-so-special agent Harbinger expect the body to levitate at his command?”

  Joshua pointed to two uniformed officers hanging around the periphery of the crime scene. “Load the body for him, okay?”

  The two men looked to one another. Clearly they wanted to say no, but equally clearly,
they were rookies. Rookies didn’t say no to anyone for anything.

  Joshua snapped his fingers. “Now.”

  The two rushed over to the dumpster. He’d learned a thing or two from McGregor. Say something with enough disdain and force, and you usually got your way.

  Joshua sniffed himself. He was a bit ripe. Perhaps he should go home and take a shower. But then he realized that he was supposed to be acting like a college student. He pretty much smelled like stale pizza his entire six years on campus.

  So forget the shower. He was pitch perfect for the assignment.

  He checked the weapon at his hip. Okay, so it wasn’t a gun, but it was an uber-powerful Taser. More than enough to take down Wallflower.

  Young criminalists dreamed of a big break like this. To be intimately involved in a serial killer case. Normally, Joshua took satisfaction in being there with the victims during the autopsy, but this one, just like the others, would be super boring. Joshua needed to be where the action was.

  It was just his nature.

  To think, out of every person on the department, Kent had picked him. Take that, Yvent. He might be Kent’s protégé on paper, but it was now clear who Kent’s favorite truly was. He had started to worry that the bond that he and Kent had, beside the fact that they were both deeply in love with Detective Usher, was starting to fade. Now he knew it was as strong as ever.

  Joshua’s phone vibrated. The text read, “Stop gloating and get over here.” Even though it came from Ruben’s girlfriend’s phone, Joshua knew it was from Kent.

  He just got the profiler that much.

  * * *

  Nicole watched as Joshua kind of shuffle-swaggered his way into the library. He gave a nod in their direction. The librarian put her hand to her nose as he passed by.

  “Are you sure Joshua is up for this?”

  Kent just shrugged at her concern. “He’s an obsessive borderline sociopath.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Nicole said.

  “What? That’s exactly what we need for this job. At least the first shift of it.”

  Joshua strutted over to the magazine rack, picked out one on muscle cars, then headed to a table, where he proceeded to sit down and put his feet up on the table.