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

by Carolyn McCray

  “And who were the away teams playing on each of those nights?” Kent asked.

  “St. Mary’s High School,” Joshua answered without hesitation. “And they won each of the games. Other cities, where they lost, there were no rapes or murders.”

  Joshua really was quick at catching on. By the frown on Nicole’s face, she wasn’t too thrilled that the odd tech was way ahead of her.

  “And just look at that pattern,” Kent said. “They are so desperate not to kill inside of their geographical area that they have simply painted a bull’s eye as to where they are located.”

  Again, this all seemed too obvious to Kent.

  Why wasn’t it obvious to everyone else?

  “So we are looking at St. Mary’s football team?” Nicole asked. “Trying to find the pack that did this?”

  “What pack?” Glick asked.

  Kent sighed. He really didn’t have it in him to explain that concept again. He nodded to Nicole and she filled in the room as to who they were looking for. It took her a good ten minutes—possibly the longest ten minutes of Kent’s life.

  Glick’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got to be careful when you go in. All of the city’s elite’s children go there. Tread carefully.”

  “When do I tread any other way?” Kent demanded.

  Then the room broke out into laughter.

  Okay, maybe he deserved that.

  * * *

  Nicole chuckled softly as Kent was still busy protesting. “What?”

  “Let’s go home and get a nap in before the school opens,” Nicole suggested.

  The rest of the group was dispersing as Kent followed her out. “When have I stepped over the line?” Kent demanded.

  “You don’t even know where the line is,” Nicole responded. “And you are just trying to bait me, and I am not rising to the occasion.”

  “Fine,” Kent said. “What time does the principal get in?”

  “From the website, it looks like 8am. I think we should be on his doorstep when he arrives for work.”

  “Agreed.”

  Nicole stopped in her tracks. “What? You ‘agree?’ When has that ever happened? You don’t want to drag me out to an all-night retro speakeasy or illegal street race? You don’t even want to go after Lucky 37?”

  Kent shook his head. “No, we’re going to need our rest.”

  “Why?” Nicole asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  “Because Lucky 37 doesn’t know, despite how smart he is, that I am going to clear this case in twenty-four hours. It might be a long twenty-four hours, so we need to get our rest now.”

  From just about anyone else, that would have sounded like hubris. However, from Kent, it was pretty much fact.

  “So, when do we get the invites?” Joshua asked as he crossed the bullpen to stand next to them.

  “What invites?” Nicole asked.

  “Um, awkward. To your wedding?” Joshua asked. “Kent did propose at the funeral, right?”

  Nicole could swear that everyone looked to her ring finger. Which, of course, was bare.

  “Didn’t the guy even get you a ring?” Ruben asked.

  Okay, Nicole was having a hard enough time with this all. She didn’t need Glick giving Kent the stink eye.

  “Yes, a beautiful one, but it’s out being sized.”

  That was a lie, but she didn’t want to have to stand here and explain her existential angst at why she didn’t want to put it on.

  “So?” Joshua prompted. “A date, have you set a date so that I can put it on my calendar?”

  Kent shook his head. “We’re playing that one by ear. But, Joshua, you will be the first to know.”

  That seemed to please the morgue attendant—however, Ruben was the one who looked like the cat that had eaten the canary. He seemed far too pleased with himself. He clearly knew that all was not right in paradise.

  Damn him.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kent really hadn’t gotten much sleep. He was way too wired. Having an open case like this where he couldn’t immediately rush into the investigation always left him restless.

  Now they were finally on the move. A quick trip through a drive-thru for breakfast and Nicole’s prerequisite morning coffee, and they were on their way to the high school.

  As Nicole pulled the Mustang up to the campus’s curb, Kent was a little surprised how different this high school looked from the one he had attended. First off, at his, there weren’t tall iron gates. Second off, they didn’t need an armed guard at said gate. And they certainly didn’t have a metal detector to get through. The way the students were patted down was more thorough than at LAX airport.

  What the hell happened to the school system that they needed this kind of screening? Damn.

  Nicole got out of the car, unsnapping the gun at her hip. As they approached the guard, she flashed her badge and handed him her gun, then went through the metal detector. The guard turned to Kent.

  “Your weapon?”

  “He doesn’t carry one,” Nicole said.

  The guard’s eyebrows went up, but he waved Kent through the metal detector. He passed with flying colors. Nicole hooked her holster back onto her belt. “The way to the principal’s office?”

  The guard pointed to the left and they set off in that direction.

  Students bustled past, either carrying extremely heavy backpacks, or those without backpacks, simply carrying their iPads. Kent could guess who was more likely to find gainful employment in the next decade.

  Soon they reached the principal’s office or, as it was called, the “Administrative Complex.” A secretary—sorry, “administrative assistant”—sat behind a large “U”-shaped desk. It looked like three or four people used to work back there, but after budget cuts, the workspace was down to one. Maybe the cuts had been for all the wrought iron fencing, or the state-of-the-art metal detector.

  She looked about as harried as a high school’s administrative assistant should. “May I help you?”

  Nicole showed the woman her badge. “Yes, we’d like to speak with Principal Fregler.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked.

  Nicole looked down at her badge again. “I think that’ll do.”

  The woman snorted. “Please. Do you know how often we have police show up? I asked if you had an appointment.”

  Nicole didn’t get knocked back, though. She came at the woman with equal intensity. “I have five high school girls raped and murdered, so again, I think we don’t need an appointment, unless you’d like me to tell the press how uncooperative your school has been?”

  The administrative assistant blanched and shuffled some papers before buzzing the principal. “Alan, there are two detectives here to see you.”

  Interesting. Calling her boss by his first name. Did that mean that “Alan” had a laid-back, new-age approach to management, or did it indicate a more personal relationship between boss and secretary?

  Kent loved these little mysteries almost as much as he loved solving the bigger, overlying crime. How much people told him in a few short sentences truly was staggering.

  Take Alan Fregler. The man came out of his office looking ready for the beach. He wore light linen pants and, Kent believed, Birkenstock sandals. His shirt wasn’t quite Hawaiian, but looked like it was from somewhere in the South Pacific or, at the least, from the Tommy Bahama collection.

  The guy tried to exude a calm, unconcerned air, which, of course, belied the whole armed-guard-outside-the gate reality.

  Plus, Alan’s clenched jaw told Kent he was not nearly as Zen as he wanted everyone to think. The principal knew something was wrong. Did that have anything to do with the murders? Too soon to tell, but this guy was hiding something. Something big. Good to know.

  The principal and secretary exchanged a look. She tilted her head to the phone, but he gave a super subtle shake of the head. Obviously, Nicole picked up on the little exchange.

  “Feel free to call the district’s lawyer
if you like,” Nicole said. “If, of course, you think you need to.”

  Alan swallowed hard. “No, not at all. Why don’t you come into my office?” he said as he swept his hand toward the door. Did that pseudo charm work on other people? Or was he used to not being called on his crap because he had a chiseled jaw and perfectly salt-and-peppered hair?

  The guy looked like a cross between George Clooney and Matt Damon. Like they had a full-grown love child.

  Which worked for Kent. Most attractive people were less accustomed to being put under pressure. They tended to buckle much quicker, since life had just come too easily for them. They weren’t accustomed to having to actually work through a problem. Not when they had that one-hundred-watt smile at their disposal.

  Alan sat down behind his desk. Kent was surprised. He half expected that Alan was the “I’ll sit on the edge of my desk so that we are equals” kind of guy. As a matter of fact, Kent was certain that if he interviewed the staff and students, he would find that ninety-nine percent of the time Alan did sit on the edge and exude empathy.

  Now, though? He sat behind his desk in an attempt to play up his superiority and to put some distance between them. However, he had guessed wrong.

  “Have a seat,” he encouraged.

  Nicole, though, put her palm down on her holster. “I’d rather stand.”

  That was his girl. She knew a power seeker when she saw one.

  Alan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. They hadn’t said a word yet about what the crime was, but the guy was already in trouble.

  Nicole looked to Kent to start, but he shook his head. He was going to let her handle this one. A dominant female seemed the best choice here. Every time Nicole bore her stare into the principal, the guy shifted again.

  “We have five high school girls brutally raped and killed, and it is looking like your school may be the source of the perpetrators.”

  “May be?” the principal shot back. Oh, yeah, he was looking for any way out of this. Most people would have been more stuck on the whole brutally raped and murdered part.

  “We are early in the investigation, however all evidence is pointing to this school being the source.”

  “I’m… I’m, not sure how I can help you.”

  “Really?” Kent said, jumping into the conversation. A little alpha male seemed appropriate here. “Because I’m pretty sure that you are thinking of a set of boys just perfect for this crime.”

  “No, I mean… No…” Alan sputtered.

  “And since you didn’t give them up right away, I can only assume that these boys are important to the school and its stature. Let me venture a guess and say they are on a sporting team?”

  The man’s face went white as his full lips trembled. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Hmm… that’s odd,” Kent said. “Because as soon as I said that, your eyes flickered over to that football trophy case.”

  If at all humanly possible, the man’s face drained of even more color. Now his skin had an almost blue cast to it. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

  “I think… I think I will wait for our lawyers before we speak further.”

  “Good idea,” Kent said. “Because once those victims’ families learn that the school knew ahead of time that you had dangerous students and did nothing about it, I can smell a multi-million-dollar lawsuit coming your way.”

  As the man’s eyes dilated, Kent knocked his knuckles against Alan’s desk. “But, hey, thanks, you’ve been a great help.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Nicole walked alongside Kent as they headed to the football field. They didn’t exactly need direction, since the stadium loomed large on the other side of the campus and the typical football sounds—shouts, grunts, and yells carried on the wind.

  She was pretty proud of herself back in the principal’s office. If Kent’s reaction—allowing her to conduct most of the interview—was any indication, she’d read “Alan” correctly. And once Kent got his claws into him? She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d wet himself just a little bit. That surfer-dude persona just didn’t stand up to Kent’s laser-focused interrogation.

  More than likely, the district’s lawyer was on his way, so they needed to get to the football field before then. She quickened her pace across the grassy quad. Kent had no problem keeping up.

  The grass gave way to gravel, which gave way to pavement as they passed mobile home units, which served as classrooms. Times really had fallen hard on the school. And by all of the football booster signs and banners all around the school, football wasn’t just a sport, it was a vital income source for the school. That was more than likely why the principal nearly stained his shorts when Kent suggested the players may be the killers they were looking for. There went his ATM machine.

  Kent led the way through the tunnel that led into the football stadium’s interior. For a moment, they were in near darkness, their only guide the pinpoint of light at the end. Her eyes hurt from the near full dilation, then full constriction as they walked out onto the sunny field.

  The scene looked like a professional NFL practice field. The ramming machines, the sleekly designed uniforms. This was so far beyond the level of most high schools, it was ridiculous, but the team had won State for three years in a row. Guess this is what it took.

  So these football players would be treated as royalty at this school. The coach saw them from across the field and trotted over right after he yelled at a player to hit the blocking machine harder.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re a closed practice field.”

  Nicole pulled her badge out. “I’m Detective Usher, and this is Special Agent Kent Harbinger, BAU division.”

  She always added that part, but more than likely, if anyone called Washington, they would disavow any knowledge of Kent. For now, though, it helped back the football coach off. If these kids were treated like little princes, this was their king.

  “I’m sorry, what do you need?”

  Kent pointed to several students. “We need to speak to him, and him, and him.”

  “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to go to the office and wait for their parents to come in.”

  “No we won’t,” Kent said flatly. “You are a private school that has a zero tolerance policy for drugs and violence. Because of this, all parents must sign a waiver giving up their rights to be present at any police interviews. All we require is a school official to be present, which is you.”

  The coach seemed none too happy that Kent knew the school’s policy. Plus he’d already been trapped in a lie, so he didn’t look very comfortable.

  “So why don’t you call the boys over?” Kent prompted.

  The coach had no other choice but to comply. Anything else would be akin to hindering an investigation. The players in question trotted over, taking off their helmets.

  “You’re the quarterback?” Kent asked, even though there had been no indication of that from the practice field. The kid had been hitting the machines just like his teammates. “And captain of the team? Reggie Halfort?”

  The kid nodded twice. Nicole looked for any insignia or patch that indicated the player was captain of the team. His number was fifty-two, which didn’t seem very captain-like. How had Kent known? Maybe he’d researched ahead of time—which didn’t sound very Kent-like.

  Kent jumped right into the questioning. “Where were you all last night?”

  The player shrugged and looked away from the coach. “After we won, we went out to celebrate.”

  “Which included?” Kent asked.

  “Partying?”

  “Drinking?” Kent prompted.

  Reggie looked down at his feet. “There may have been a keg or two.”

  “You know underage drinking isn’t allowed,” the coach growled.

  “Which he gave up pretty easily, didn’t you, Reggie?” Kent said. “I find when someone admits to a lesser crime—which, come on, he knows you aren’t going to do anything ab
out—it is usually to cover for a larger crime.”

  Reggie’s cheeks flushed. “How dare you…”

  “Me?” Kent said. “You raped and killed five girls.”

  Nicole put a hand on Kent’s arm. “What my colleague means to say is that we need proof of your alibi. We need to know exactly where you partied. We need to see empty cups with your DNA to be able to clear you.”

  Kent pulled his arm away. She almost reminded him of what Glick had said about treading carefully, but that would probably make the profiler push even harder.

  “Yeah, how about you talk to my dad’s lawyer about that,” Reggie said, tossing the football between his hands.

  Kent went to open his mouth when a smaller teen stumbled out onto the field, dropping a large water bottle. The plastic cracked and the gallons of water spilled out onto the field.

  “Smooth move,” Reggie sneered. “And you want to be on the team? Why don’t you go try out for something more your speed, like girls’ gymnastics?”

  Nicole waited for the coach to say something, but when he didn’t, she piped up. “I thought the school had a zero tolerance policy on bullying, as well?”

  “What?” The coach said. “The kid is a klutz.”

  Perhaps the first step in implementing a non-bullying policy would be to actually explain to the staff what bullying was. Then, maybe it could be enforced.

  Kent reached his hand out and the coach looked at the appendage suspiciously before finally shaking Kent’s hand. “I have to say that everyone at this school has been so incredibly helpful. Thanks.”

  The coach looked downright shocked as Kent pumped the man’s hand up and down. Then the profiler turned on his heel and headed toward the exit.

  “Yes, thanks, and we’ll get in touch if we need anything else,” Nicole said as she hurried to catch up with Kent.

  “What was all that about?” Nicole asked. “They didn’t tell us anything.”

  * * *

  Kent loved Nicole even when she said such incredibly naïve things as that. “Are you kidding me? Reggie practically confessed. He is the pack leader—now we just need to prove it.”