The Pretty Ones

by Robin Mahle

  “You know what I mean. Don’t get me wrong, it is really good to see you, but you know you’ll always be my friend and we can see each other any time you’d like.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what’s behind this? Why do you want BAU to take this on?”

  “Not just BAU. You. I think it’s you who should help them out with this one. Forgive me, but you probably have more experience than LAPD does in this type of case.”

  “Don’t underestimate their abilities and their expertise. They know what they’re doing, Marc. I can assure you of that.” She paused for a moment. “Is it just for ratings? A better gig? I mean, if we’re going to be honest, then let’s be honest here. You owe me that much.”

  “Partly, yes. As I said before, I’d like to run better stories. But I don’t want it to sound as though I’m using our friendship.”

  “Aren’t you, though?” She felt bad for laying it on the line and wished she hadn’t said it at all.

  “I don’t mean to be. I really don’t. I need your help. That’s what it boils down to.”

  “But you don’t.” She leaned over the table. “You can run on this yourself. You don’t need me involved. It’s a story. A sad one, but it’s a story.”

  “No way would they run it unless either the feds were involved or a whole lot more people were being killed. Look, it’s a shitty business—journalism. I’ve known that for years, but it is what it is and I want to be better than that. I want to do real stories that have real meaning to people.”

  “I understand that, I do.” Kate stopped to consider his request. “And I know you’re not trying to take advantage of my position because, honestly, I have zero clout.”

  “But it isn’t just that. You do have a knack for certain things. I’ve seen you in action. Whether or not you want to admit it, you do have some innate ability to solve puzzles. Find clues that would otherwise be overlooked.”

  “Okay. You’ve buttered me up enough. I’ll talk to my SSA.”

  “Agent Scarborough?”

  “Yes. I’ll talk to him. See what he thinks. But I have to follow the rules here. You understand?”

  “Of course. I’d never ask you to bend the rules for me, Kate.”

  “Sure you would.” She smiled again as their food arrived. “Now, can we talk about something else? Who’s this woman you’re living with and will I get to meet her?” Kate dipped a spoon in her soup.

  “She’s great. And yeah, I’d love for you to meet her.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  College football games were broadcasting on every screen in the bar, but Nick had his eye on only one. Nebraska. His Cornhuskers were winning against Illinois and they were doing well in their division this season. Saturdays brought with them a certain elation for Nick and today appeared to be going much the same.

  “Hey, buddy.” Dwight approached from behind and placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

  “Hey. There you are. Take a seat.”

  “How’s the Huskers doing this year?” Dwight pulled out a stool and sat down. “Penn State isn’t doing shit right now, but I’m holding out hope.”

  “Not bad. What are you drinking?” Nick asked.

  “Just a beer for me, thanks.” Dwight noticed his colleague’s half-empty bottle. “How long you been here? Sorry I’m late. Had to take the kids back early. Their grandmother is celebrating a birthday and Megan wanted them to be there, so I gave up my time.”

  “You two have to be the easiest-going divorced couple I’ve ever known.”

  “We have our moments. Trust me on that.” The bartender handed Dwight a bottle of Sam Adams. “Thanks.” He took a swig and turned his attention to Nick again. “So what’s going on? I’m glad to see you’re getting out and about these days. That’s an improvement. How’s um—you know.” Dwight tossed a glance to Nick’s beer.

  “Okay. I’m managing.”

  “No disrespect. I just…”

  “None taken, man. I appreciate your concern. You have every right to be and I know that. I guess I’m doing all right.” He began to tear at the label on his bottle. “You know Friday at our team meeting?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to tell you something then, but I just didn’t know how.”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “You know I had that meeting with the section chief?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “They want me to come back. Be their senior unit agent.”

  “What? Are you serious? That’s great—isn’t it? I mean, it sucks for us, but man, that’s fantastic for you. That’s what we all want, right?”

  “I guess.” He held Dwight’s gaze. “It’d mean leaving the team. Leaving you and Kate.”

  “Well, I guess that’s true, but shit. It’s a hell of an opportunity. We’ll be fine.”

  “Nothing’s set in stone yet. I’m up for consideration only and it wouldn’t take effect until the beginning of January. It would mean leaving a position open for you at WFO. You know I’d recommend you for that in a heartbeat, right?”

  “Of course. And I’d be grateful if it came to pass, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. Yet for some reason, you seem hesitant. And I can only hazard a guess as to why.”

  Nick turned away, sheepishly drinking his beer until the bottle was empty. He raised a finger to the bartender.

  “I’ve known for a long time,” Dwight said.

  Nick regarded him as though he’d just cast an aspersion.

  “Don’t give me that look. The hotel? Hell, even before that, I suspected, but I kept my mouth shut because no one was getting hurt. But that all changed a few months ago, didn’t it?” Dwight took another drink. “You guys have a lot of history. There’s no denying that. You helped her through her grief. She helped you through your breakup. It’s no surprise—to anyone. And now, you’re thinking, well, if I take the job, I won’t see her; won’t work with her, and she’ll move on. And you know what? You’re probably right.”

  Nick remained silent while his partner and friend, whom he hadn’t realized had been fully aware of the situation, offered a gentle reprimand.

  “Kate has shared things with me. Things that still haunt her, goals she’s striving for. We talk. But there’s one topic we don’t discuss and that’s you. I thought you might’ve played a part in her breakup with Burgess, but I never asked her about it. Not my place. And if she wanted to share it with me, she would have. Point being, this has to stop. It’s not good for either of you. You need to either shit or get off the pot.” Dwight downed the rest of his beer.

  “You think I haven’t told her how I feel? I did. And she still walked away.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. She never said anything.”

  Nick peered again at the football game and noticed the score. “Ah hell. I missed a touchdown.” He turned to Dwight. “So I guess that was what I wanted to tell you. That, depending on how things go, I might be moving on. But I think if it happens, it’ll be a good thing for you. You deserve to be running the show over there. You’re one of the best agents I’ve had the pleasure to work with.”

  “Hey now. You don’t need to grease me up if you’re looking for a letter of recommendation. You know damn well I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Detective Sharpe glanced away from his computer screen at the officer standing in his doorway. “What is it?”

  “They brought the body in. Thought you might want to take a trip down to the morgue.”

  He rose from his chair and pulled his jacket off the back of it. “Let’s go.”

  Within minutes, they’d arrived at the ME’s office and were escorted to view the body of the woman Sharpe had been standing over only hours earlier in the park.

  “Jesus, man. Have you even gone home yet?” the officer asked.

  Sharpe only shook his head.

  “No one can fault you for lack of dedication.” A door was just ahead. “This is it.”

  “I k
now.” Sharpe followed behind the officer and approached the medical examiner. “Dr. Hahn.”

  “Detective. You’re looking well.”

  “No need for fabrications, Dr. Hahn. How far have you gotten?”

  “I’ve just finished with the photographs and removing the bags from her hands and feet. I’ve scraped under her nails too. So far, everything points to this young woman as being the victim of the same person as the previous victims, I’m afraid.”

  “I figured.” Sharpe wasn’t intending to be curt, but he hated wasting his time and especially here in the morgue. “What about the face?”

  “We’ll send samples to the lab for confirmation, but I suspect we’ll find the same makeup used.”

  “What is it about this perp and makeup? Why is he playing dress up?” the officer asked.

  The detective rubbed his chin, which had grown stubbly from the long shift he was pulling. “I don’t know. Maybe he feels guilty about how he destroyed their bodies. Maybe it’s a fetish. Right now, I don’t know shit because we have no goddam leads. No one knows what this person looks like. We assume it’s a male based on your findings, Dr. Hahn. But other than that, we have no idea who this guy is or why he’s doing this.”

  “He might have left us a clue on this victim and that’s what I’m here to find out.” The doctor began pressing down on the woman’s chest with his razor-sharp scalpel as he slid it along her torso.

  CHAPTER 5

  After considering how best to approach her current predicament, Kate decided to rip off the Band-Aid and just ask. Uphold the promise she’d given Marc and ask Nick if he would allow her to make contact with the LAPD, whether they wanted her to or not.

  And with two coffees in hand, Kate now stood in the doorway of Nick’s office. “Morning. You have a minute?”

  “Sure, come in. Have a seat.”

  “I thought you might need one of these.” She handed him the coffee.

  “Wow. Thank you. You have a good weekend?”

  “Yes, thanks. That’s kind of the reason I’m here.”

  “Oh? Everything okay?” He sipped on his drink.

  “I went to New York to visit Marc Aguilar.”

  “Really? Haven’t heard that name in a while. How’s he doing?”

  “Very well. He’s an anchor for CBN. Mostly nights. But he wanted to talk to me about a case out of California—LA.”

  “Why? What’s happening in LA?”

  “There’ve been some murders in South LA. Not the usual drug or gang-related ones. Three women have been found. No leads, from what I gather.”

  “Okay. What’s that got to do with us, or Aguilar, for that matter?”

  “He thinks we should reach out to LAPD and offer assistance.” She failed to mention Marc specified her involvement. “There are some characteristics to this case that point to serial killings of a particularly unusual nature.”

  “As if any of them are normal.”

  “Good point. But by that, I mean whoever’s doing this is making up these women’s faces, maiming their bodies, and leaving them on display in very public settings.”

  Nick closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled a breath. “Okay. I’m failing to see how this would involve us, though. Has LAPD been looking for federal help?”

  “No. And that’s the problem. I think Marc wants to take the story national and he wants our—my help doing it.”

  “I see. He hasn’t changed much, has he?”

  “He’s got good intentions. What I’m asking here is, do you think it’s appropriate to reach out to the detective in charge and offer our help?”

  “Depends on the detective. And, we haven’t ventured out west in a while. I’m thinking it’d be better suited to the LA field office.”

  “What if I could help? And of course, I could also consult with the LA office. I’ve been thinking about specializing in profiling. I’ll be finished with my probation in a matter of weeks and it’s an area I’ve always been interested in learning. Frankly, I have unique experience in the matter.”

  “That you do.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “How much do you know about the case? What did Marc tell you?”

  “He sent me the police reports he got from a former colleague in LA. I reviewed them on Friday and then again yesterday after I got back from New York. The first thing that came to mind was that because the unsub carefully applies makeup to his victims, to me, that says he’s attached to them in some way. He cares for them; wants them to look pretty.”

  “Out of guilt?” Nick asked.

  “Possibly. I don’t know yet.”

  Nick studied her for a moment before continuing. “If this is an area you’d like to consider, then maybe it would be a good idea to reach out to the detective. I don’t know if you’ll get a bite, but it can’t hurt to ask. I wouldn’t count on ASAC Campbell letting you fly out there just yet. I would suggest a few phone calls, Skype, whatever to make contact and get a feel for the case, again, assuming they want our help. It wouldn’t be any different than the cases we discussed last week from offices that were asking for consults.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you letting me pursue this. I don’t know how much I can help Marc. Maybe not at all, but this one’s different. Not like anyone I’ve come across—yet.” Kate rose from her seat and turned to leave.

  “Kate?”

  She stopped and spun back around. “Yes?”

  Nick was silent for several moments, holding her gaze, appearing ready to speak. “Let me know how it goes.”

  “I will.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The front door opened with a quick swoosh and the kids ran inside, dropping their backpacks to the floor.

  “You two better get back here and hang those up before your mom gets home.” Andre dropped his keys in a bowl kept on the end of the breakfast bar. He pulled off his tie and began to walk upstairs to change. It was his night to get the kids and start dinner while Dina worked second shift at the clinic. But she would be home within the hour and expected the kids to have their school uniforms hung up and their homework finished. She ran a tight ship.

  Andre pulled on his sweat pants and t-shirt before checking to see that the kids had changed. “You have any homework tonight?”

  “No, Dad,” Amber said.

  “Okay.” He watched as his daughter switched on her small television and began watching cartoons before closing her door and making his way back down the stairs.

  Ty sat in the living room, TV on and cartoons blaring while playing with his tablet.

  “You have homework?”

  Ty looked at him with guilty eyes. “Yeah.” He slumped down from the sofa and walked into the hall to get his backpack.

  After a few moments returning emails from his cell phone, Andre decided he’d better get dinner going. Dina would be home soon. Tonight was taco night. He wasn’t much of a cook but could manage the simpler meals while his wife often ventured into more upscale cooking. And that usually resulting in the kids not eating at all.

  He stood over the stove, skillet sizzling with browning meat when he heard the front door open. Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the tile floor until she appeared in the kitchen, wearing her green scrubs, the dry cleaning slung over her shoulder.

  “Hey, baby.” She draped the clothes over a barstool. “How was your day?” Dina moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his cheek while he still stirred the meat.

  “Fine. How was yours?”

  “The usual. Did about a dozen ultrasounds and gave a lot of flu shots. It’s that time of year.” She walked back toward the pile of clothes. “Oh, hey, the dry cleaner said he couldn’t remove some sort of grease stain from one of your dress shirts.”

  Andre stopped stirring. His mind’s eye flashed images of him placing his work clothes in a bag and tossing them into the back of his Honda. He must not have pulled the drawstring closed enough.

  “Andre?” Dina placed her hands on her hips. “Did you h
ear what I said?”

  He broke free from the memory and turned to face her with a smile. “That’s okay. I’ve got plenty more. Why don’t you go get changed? Dinner will be ready soon.”

  The table was set and dinner was being served. “If you eat both tacos, you can have dessert,” Andre said to Ty as he placed the plate in front of him. “Same goes for you, Amber.”

  He sat down and crunched down on his own taco. The television was on in living room, where they had a clear view from the dining area.

  Dina turned as the news story appeared. “I can’t believe that.” She returned her attention to Andre. “You hear about that? I should change the channel.” She looked at the kids before standing and reaching for the remote that sat on a side table in the living room. On her return, she continued. “Those poor women.”

  “What women?” Ty asked.

  Andre cast a stern glance. “Never mind. Just eat your dinner.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Detective Sharpe, thank you for taking my call.” Kate sat alone in the conference room and made the call with Nick’s blessing.

  “What can I do for you, Agent Reid?”

  “I know how busy you must be right now, so I’ll keep this brief. You’re handling the investigation into the murders of women in South LA?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I wanted to reach out to you and offer any assistance you might need on the case. I work under the resident agent of BAU Unit 4 in Washington.”

  “That’s a very long ways from here.”

  “It is, sir, but with your blessing, I’d like to possibly take a look at your case files?”

  “Agent Reid, we have this situation under control and currently have no need for the FBI’s help. I appreciate your concern, but we’re handling things just fine over here.”

  “Of course, and I certainly don’t mean to imply otherwise. However, I have a unique perspective in these matters and am beginning to focus my efforts on profiling the likes of the person you’re dealing with now.”