Faces of Evil [2] Impulse

by Debra Webb

  Oh, and she couldn’t leave out the old lover label. She and Burnett had been a couple all through high school and college. Since Jess would be the only female deputy chief, she had unquestionably gotten the job by sleeping with the boss. Didn’t matter that the last time they had succumbed to that particular weakness was ten years ago.

  That she had helped find those girls had earned her Sheriff Griggs’ respect if no one else’s. Then again, he and the others would in all probability see her as responsible for this.

  She was responsible.

  Guilt and fear coiled more tightly, separating her from everyone around her with those invisible yet fierce emotions.

  The Player never took a second victim until he was finished with the first.

  Twenty-four hours. That cold, harsh reality echoed in her brain. That was the approximate amount of time Lori Wells had left to live.

  “Twenty-four hours?”

  Jess started at Burnett’s question. Didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud. Just another reminder of how easily she drifted into one distraction or the other these days. “Nothing.”

  Maybe he would change that aspect of his MO, too.

  If they couldn’t find him fast – and they wouldn’t unless he wanted to be found – Detective Wells’ only hope was a shift in his well-documented MO.

  “This isn’t one of his typical crime scenes, is it?”

  Jess braced, focused on ensuring her voice was steady when she spoke. One more excuse was all he would need to yank her off this case for her own protection.

  “Not at all.” Get that quiver out of your voice, Jess. “There’s generally no indication anything untoward happened. Certainly no evidence of any kind.” With effort she pushed aside the memory of the blood on the floor and the wall and concentrated on what she knew, what she could do for Lori – Lori, dammit.

  Not Detective Wells. Lori Wells. A friend she wanted to know better, to share experiences with. Jess hadn’t bothered with friends in a long time.

  Damn Spears.

  Burnett waited for her to go on. He watched for the weakness that would prove his theory about her not being able to handle the undeniably personal aspects of this investigation.

  Keep it together, Jess.

  “He sedates his victims to ensure complete cooperation. We discovered it in his last victims – Ketamine. With the injectable form, if the dose is right it works fast and doesn’t last too long. Gives him the time he needs.”

  “Is she – Belinda Howard – is she alive?” The hope in his voice never made it to his eyes. “There’s not that much blood in there.”

  “He doesn’t usually make the kill at the scene of the abduction.” Jess almost laughed. “The way his MO is changing, I’m not sure I can say either way with any real accuracy. At this point I’d have to conclude that it depends upon if he has a use for her. He,” she dragged in a steadying breath, “disabled her with the Ketamine, probably, made an incision of some sort to get the blood flowing and left his message.”

  Just to get Jess’s attention. The vic wasn’t even his type. None of this was logical, unless she set aside the profile she’d built over five years of intense study, and acknowledged that every step he’d taken this time had been about her. Getting to her, making her squirm. Generating desperation.

  “Where does this put Wells on the food chain?”

  Jess swept a wisp of sweat-dampened hair from her face. “Without exception,” the words she needed to say got trapped on a lump in her throat, “he disposes of one victim within twenty-four hours of taking the next.”

  Burnett didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he moved on from the topic, as if lingering there too long was more than he could manage at the moment. “Hogan called.” Burnett surveyed the street. “He went to the floral shop personally. Interviewed the two women who work there.”

  Jess held her breath.

  “It was him, Jess. Spears walked in and made the purchase with cash. Gave a generous tip for the delivery. There’s no security video but both women identified Eric Spears as the guy.” Burnett shook his head. “He waltzed right into a downtown shop and bought those flowers.”

  Jess closed her eyes. What the hell was he doing? Was he after her or just in the mood to torture her from afar? Was he so damned sure of himself after the fiasco in Richmond that he was no longer afraid of getting caught no matter how careless his methods?

  She opened her eyes, blinked to clear those graphic images from past cases attributed to the Player. There were things she had to do. “I need to call my sister before she hears about this some other way.”

  The media hadn’t found their way here yet but that would happen soon enough. Mostly she just needed some space. A minute or two to pull herself together without Burnett hovering.

  “Then we have to talk.”

  She’d expected that sooner. Like maybe on the way over here. The Bureau was up to something that wasn’t going to be fun for her.

  No surprise there.

  Jess made her way to where they’d parked and climbed into Burnett’s Mercedes, then closed out the world. The temperature inside the vehicle was stifling. She didn’t care if she melted. Her hand shook as she rummaged through her bag for her cell. Lily answered on the first ring. It took a minute to convince her sister that Jess wasn’t buying a house. Several more minutes were required to calm Lily down and coax her to listen after she learned her friend had been abducted. Suffocating became less desirable, forcing Jess to open her door since she didn’t have the keys to power down a window.

  “Lil, just stop and listen.” Five or so seconds later, her sister complied. “I know you probably won’t understand what I’m about to tell you, but I need you to listen carefully.”

  Another round of ranting about the dangers of Jess’s job and Lily finally gave up and lapsed into silence.

  “This killer is doing everything different this time.” A gray sedan rolled up the street, moving slowly. Another of those aggravating frowns furrowed Jess’s brow. “You and your kids aren’t safe at your house. I need you to agree to go away for a while.”

  Lily did what she always did. She insisted they were fine. A police officer and an FBI agent were there with them twenty-four/seven. Why was Jess doing this? Why didn’t she come stay with them? Why did this awful man take Belinda?

  Why? Why? Why?

  Still distracted by the sedan, Jess tried to listen to her sister and watch the car pull into the drive at the crime scene. Strange. Maybe another detective or one of the deputy chiefs she’d met earlier.

  Her sister hammered on about how leaving their home was out of the question. She insisted Jess was being reckless as always. That the case mattered more to her than her own safety.

  In the driveway, next to Howard’s BMW, the sedan’s doors opened and three men emerged. Burnett didn’t move toward them, an indication that he wasn’t exactly happy at the arrival. And that he knew their identities. He waited for them to reach his position on the sidewalk with no welcoming body language.

  Had to be Bureau. . . the suits gave them away most every time. Not to mention the way they walked in perfect step. One turned slightly in her direction. Manning. Yep, just as she thought. He sort of stood back as if the other two were senior.

  “Turn around dammit,” she muttered.

  Lily yelled her name and Jess hauled her attention back to the conversation. “No, I wasn’t talking to you. What did you say?”

  This was Lily’s daughter’s last summer at home before college. Lily wanted that time spent in the house where her daughter grew up.

  Jess squinted to get a better look at the suits. One seemed familiar. His posture. . . the way he walked. She snatched off her glasses and swabbed at the sweat on her face with the back of her hand. The familiar suit turned far enough for her to see his profile.

  Gant.

  What the hell?

  Her frustration shifted to Burnett. He might not have expected them to show up here but he knew Gant wa
s in town and hadn’t told her.

  Then we have to talk.

  Her sister’s voice droned in her ear, yanking Jess from the troubling scenario building in her head.

  “Lily, you listen to me,” Jess snapped. She didn’t have time for her sister’s naïve civilian attitude. “Pack your bags because you and the kids are leaving that house today! No arguments. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  Jess hung up while her sister still railed at her. She tossed her glasses onto the dash and dug for her sunglasses. It wasn’t that she was surprised at Gant showing up. It was the idea that he hadn’t called her. Technically he was still her superior.

  She jammed the shaded eyewear into place and grabbed her bag. Why would he contact Burnett without talking to her first?

  Mad as hell and a whole litany of other negative things she didn’t have time to mentally list, Jess climbed out of the SUV, slammed the door and strode toward Burnett, Gant and his two-man posse.

  The dark eyewear Burnett wore didn’t disguise his dread as Jess neared. His lips formed a grim line and his broad shoulders sagged just a little. He knew what was coming and he wasn’t looking forward to her reaction.

  As she stepped up onto the sidewalk, Manning moved toward the house, but Gant and the other man – Agent Clint Wentworth – didn’t bother. What was Wentworth doing here? Why wasn’t Taylor or Bedford with Gant? Those two knew Spears almost as well as Jess.

  Wait. . . wait. . . wait. Wentworth wasn’t with BAU. He was OPR.

  Jess squared her shoulders against a groundswell of apprehension. “I wasn’t aware we were having a reunion.”

  Supervisory Special Agent Ralph Gant gave Jess a nod. “Harris.”

  “What’s going on?” Might as well get to the meat of the matter. “Wentworth, you felt compelled to bring your investigation all the way to my hometown? How thorough of you.” The inkling of apprehension vanished and indignation took its place. Somehow she had thought her years of hard work meant a little more than this.

  Gant looked from Jess to Burnett and back. “Chief Burnett is aware of our agenda here and he is cooperating for the good of all concerned.”

  Oh, this just kept getting better and better. “You’re running a separate, parallel investigation. Chief Burnett briefed us on the Bureau’s position.” He just left out the part about OPR coming along for the ride.

  “We are,” Gant confirmed.

  “Well, then,” Jess gave a nod, “you’ll be interested to know that we have two more witnesses who positively ID’d Eric Spears in this case. Inside,” she hitched her head toward the house, “you’ll find another message of a similar nature to the others he has sent to me since my arrival in Birmingham.”

  Gant appeared to evaluate the information. Wentworth, on the other hand, wasted no time tossing out his own opinion. “Since we have no sense of the message inside, we really can’t address your assessment. As for the others, every text message sent by this unsub leads back to a prepaid phone registered to you, Agent Harris, and operating in this area. It’s hardly evidence that we’re dealing with the Player or Eric Spears.”

  “Tell us something we don’t know, Agent Wentworth. We determined the source of his text messages days ago.” She resisted the urge to suggest he needed to catch up. “We also know that means nothing except that he’s trying to get my attention.” A blind man could see that motive.

  “Jess,” Burnett said, drawing her frustration from Wentworth to him, “we’ll go over all this back at the office.”

  So he did know about this other. . . whatever it was!

  “Chief Burnett,” Gant advised, usurping the tirade Jess was about to launch “certain aspects of the information I passed along was a professional courtesy and for your information only in your capacity as chief of police.” He glanced at Jess. “Agent Harris is still in the service of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I am her direct supervisor. I will brief her on what she needs to know when she needs to know it.”

  “And when exactly will this briefing take place?” Jess demanded. She’d kind of like to know what was going on, too. Beyond the obvious, of course. The Office of Professional Responsibility was investigating her. No surprise there. Any time a case went so far south and garnered so much media attention, there was an investigation to determine any possible failure on the agent’s part.

  “When we confirm or rule out certain aspects of our suspicions,” Gant answered, “we will brief you then. Until that time, you will remain on administrative leave. Chief Burnett insists upon your involvement in his investigation against my recommendation.”

  Jess held up both hands. “Spears contacted me. This new game he’s decided to play somehow involves me.” She planted her hands on her hips, shoving her bag behind her. “With all due respect, sir, the notion of taking me off the investigation is not only imprudent, it’s illogical.” She kept the part about it being totally stupid to herself.

  “At this time, we can’t conclude that these actions have been set in motion, much less carried out, by Eric Spears. There are legal ramifications to pursuing that end without corroborating evidence. It’s our position that BPD should broaden the focus of their investigation.”

  “Did you talk to Spears? Confirm his whereabouts?” Jess demanded, despite recognizing that he had a valid point. There were elements in both abductions that certainly suggested this could be the work of another unsub. But she knew it was Spears.

  Like you knew it was him before?

  She banished the echo from her head.

  “His personal assistant claims he’s out of the country on business. Bangkok,” Gant said with visible reluctance, “but there’s no passport verification that he left the country. We are attempting to confirm his movements.”

  Jess scoffed despite the trickle of uncertainty that endeavored to undermine her resolve. “Then you can’t substantiate where he is at this time. That’s convenient.”

  “As true as that is, you cannot confirm he’s here. All I’m suggesting is that we approach this theory with a little more objectivity,” Gant urged, “I’m on your side here, Jess. No one wants a repeat of what happened in Richmond. Do us all a favor, take a breath and step away from this investigation before things escalate.”

  Good grief! How could her walking away make things better?

  Burnett tore off his sunglasses and stared straight at her. “Jess, do you intend to accept the position I offered you this morning? Officially accept it?”

  They had talked about that. But with the Spears situation. . . she wasn’t sure he really wanted to go out on that professional limb. Following through on that job offer could blow up in his face. Even if he were having second thoughts, Burnett was far too honorable to take back the offer. Jess didn’t want him to become another casualty of her crashing career.

  “As I said,” Gant countered, “for now, Harris is still my agent.”

  “Give me an answer, Jess,” Burnett pushed, ignoring Gant. “The offer stands if you’re interested.”

  Burnett was dead serious. She knew better than to ignore the warning he was flashing with those intense blue eyes. There was something big she didn’t know. Whatever it was, he was worried.

  Jess rammed her hand into her bag, grabbed her cell phone and tapped a few keys. She hit send and smiled up at Gant. “I’m not your agent anymore. I resign.” She turned to Burnett. “I officially accept your offer, chief. When do I start?”

  “Now.” He thrust out his hand. She accepted his firm shake. “Welcome aboard, Deputy Chief Harris.”

  Gant stared at the screen of his cell. “You can’t resign with a text message.”

  “I just did.” Jess hauled her bag higher onto her shoulder. “If you’re ready,” she said to Burnett. “I’m done here.”

  “Your resignation will not terminate my investigation into your recent conduct,” Wentworth warned.

  Jess didn’t bother with a response. She marched back to the SUV and climbed in. This time she didn’t shut h
er door until Burnett got behind the wheel and started the engine.

  When he’d pulled away from the curb, she adjusted the AC vents and asked, as politely as her frustration level would allow, “Can you tell me now why I just quit my job, besides the fact that Gant is an idiot and Wentworth obviously thinks I’m a lunatic?”

  The job was down the toilet anyway. The technicalities of whether she would resign or they would make her miserable were all that had remained. But she had expected the actual separation to go down a little differently. A hint of professionalism would have been nice. There were forms, debriefings.

  She’d just bypassed all that with a one sentence text – in English with the proper punctuation.

  “I planned to tell you after the briefing but then the flowers arrived.”

  When Manning hadn’t returned right in the middle of the briefing, she had known that this was bigger than the Bureau merely offering support.

  Things were about to get ugly.

  Truth was, things had already gotten ugly. Spears was at it again and the Bureau was still doing damage control after his last murder spree.

  She was as culpable in that one as Gant or any of the rest.

  Two news vans rolled into the cul-de-sac. She and Burnett had gotten out of there just in time.

  “The Bureau thinks there’s some kind of bizarre personal link between you and Spears.”

  Talk about a punch to the gut. Jess twisted in her seat to stare at his profile. “Are you serious?”

  “Just before he was released last week, Spears suggested you had an interest of some sort in him beyond the investigation. Gant blew off the idea. But last night, there was a homicide related to a break-in in your neighborhood. One of your neighbors was murdered. Your house was vandalized.”

  Her eyebrows lifted with surprise. One of her neighbors was murdered? She wanted to ask which one but he likely wouldn’t know. She doubted she would know the name herself. She was never home long enough to get acquainted with her neighbors. And that was irrelevant. What mattered was that another innocent life had been taken. Another wave of anger slammed her.