Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Clint’s smile disappeared. He gripped Lynn’s arm, giving her an imperceptible shake of his head when their eyes locked momentarily. He nodded at Reeves. “I only wanted the cards on the table, Sam. We’re in until the end. You two didn’t even follow the advice I gave you up at my place, did you?”

  Reeves shook his head no, staring down at his feet. Clint held out his hand.

  Reeves gripped Clint’s hand as Labrie caught up. “Thank you. Anything you need or want, I’ll get you. Just help us catch these things!”

  Lynn put her hand on Reeve’s arm. “I like your passion, homeboy. Can I ask you something just for the record? Did-”

  “I made the calls to the Federales,” Sam stated, meeting Lynn’s inquisitive gaze, releasing Clint’s hand and letting his fall to his side. “I don’t care if you eviscerate me after this ends. If you can help Clint set these fucks up for us to get, I don’t care what you do to me.”

  A smile spread slowly on Montoya’s mouth, continuing slowly to her eyes as she glanced over at Clint and then back to Reeves. “Well hell… me and CD will out monster the monsters for you, and no charge on the ledger. Like I said… I like your passion. Want a blow job to seal the deal, cowboy?”

  Labrie gasped, Reeves took a step back while Dostiene laughed, shaking his head.

  Lynn clapped her hands together. “You two are adorable. I’m hungry. Take us to lunch and fill us in on what’s happened since Zorro came down to rescue me.”

  * * *

  They ordered their meals and ate in relative quiet, having driven up to Lordsburg, NM to the closest restaurant, called Kranberry’s Family Restaurant, which was over a two hour drive from the Antelope Wells crossing. Montoya had driven while Dostiene slept, enjoying everything about the barren landscape, the car, and being free for the first time in over six months. Now, she ate hungrily, noting how wrung out the two FBI Agents across the table from them looked. After the meal dishes had been cleared away, Reeves sipped his coffee as if contemplating how to begin. Montoya did it for him.

  “Okay, they’ve killed again. Let’s start with how you two see these killers,” Montoya asked. “Tell us what kind of profile you envision fits them.”

  “We believe them to be two or three men in their late thirties to late forties,” Labrie replied. “They’re blue collar or unemployed with feral cunning, but very little formal education. We believe they were abused by a female authority figure – a single mother, aunt, grandmother, or even in a shared foster care home. There would be incidents of petty crime and animal abuse in their backgrounds. Although they have mimicked letters and positions used by other serial killers in the area where the original crimes were committed, they also threaded in elements of the satanic cult murderers called ‘The Ripper Crew’ from Chicago. They severed the breasts of their victims.”

  Dostiene sipped his iced tea, his face a mask of concentration until Labrie mentioned ‘The Ripper Crew’ and severed breasts. He smiled. “Okay, now I know where you two went around the bend and forgot everything we discussed when we worked together.”

  Reeves leaned forward, his palms on the table. “Fine. We’re listening now. What the hell are we missing?”

  “The breasts,” Montoya piped in, getting a nod from Dostiene. “You two fixated on the one element those fucks threw in there as bait, and built your whole goofball profile around it. You fit your present day killers’ round peg into those satanic barf-bags’ MO square hole.”

  “No way!” Labrie argued. “I’m telling you we-”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Janie… she’s right!” Reeves shook his head angrily and stood up. “I have to get some air.”

  They waited in silence, finishing their beverages, until Reeves returned ten minutes later. Dostiene reached over to pat Montoya’s knee. Reeves sat down and folded his arms.

  “Lay it on me, Clint.”

  “They’re just killers to me at this point, Sam. They’re the total opposites of what you and Janie are thinking. I’m thinking different backgrounds, brilliant, and some shared experiences that drew them together. I bet Lynn here can guess the shared experience.”

  “College,” Lynn answered right away. “Long term relationship, so I’m figuring some degree taking years of postgraduate work. These yuppies have money, high earning jobs, recreational time, and have formed their own sadistic circle jerk.”

  “But Clint-”

  “Forget the numbers, Janie,” Clint waved her off. “I explained to you and Sam over and over on the cases we worked, that you have to stop focusing so heavily on the crimes and profiles. You have three completely different areas where these serial killings have been supposedly mimicked… that you know of. Let’s look at what you and Sam worked on – profiles. When these loonies started, I’ll give you a pass. When they took their act on the road, you and Sam should have caught them, or at least identified them.”

  “They’re the traveling monster corps, girlfriend,” Montoya added. “I bet you’re right about ‘The Ripper Crew’ mimic job, but you let it infect your whole investigation. I’m being serious. Did you check flight lists out of the areas and cross them with supposed strangers sharing the same hotel or possibly the same room at the hotel?”

  “Once they started baiting you, the startup time was established,” Dostiene continued for Lynn. “When the mimicked serial killings stopped-”

  “We would have had departure times,” Janie whispered. “Sweet Christ in heaven… it’s been there right in front of us the whole time. They weren’t traveling, setting up new identities, and taking their time before starting another serial killing spree.”

  “They were on vacation,” Reeves mumbled, elbows on the table, and head in hands. “The cold blooded bastards take their vacations together.”

  Reeves leaped to his feet, fists clenched. “C’mon, Janie. We’re dumping the car and flying back to San Francisco. We’ll take San Francisco and reach out to our office in LA to work the ‘Hillside Stranglers’ cases. Can you two take the first area we were aware of here in New Mexico?”

  “That sounds good, Sam,” Clint replied. “Send the New Mexico files to my Internet Drop. They started in Albuquerque, right?”

  “That’s right,” Janie answered. “They killed five young coeds over the space of two weeks, which we will include all details about, especially the dates. I’ll send word to our Albuquerque field office letting them know to give you anything you want – same with the local PD. Thanks, Clint.”

  “I’ll make sure you and Sam get to look these youngsters right in the eye. If you want, we’ll take them somewhere and let Lynn mimic her serial killings on them.”

  “Oh hell yeah!” Lynn laughed. “That’s good… Clint. We’ll find them and tuck them away for a long winter’s nap.”

  Sam smiled for the first time. “Don’t tempt me. Let’s go, Janie.”

  Janie followed Sam, but glanced back at Montoya for a moment. “Would you do that?”

  Montoya let the happy face drop. The sheer menace she projected stopped Labrie in her tracks. “In a heartbeat, girlfriend.”

  “Uh… okay…” Labrie turned away and hurried to catch up with Sam.

  Lynn turned, smiling brightly at Dostiene, who had been suppressing laughter with some difficulty. “Did you like my killer face?”

  “Yeah, baby, that was very entertaining, not that you wouldn’t do it. Those killers really screwed those two up. If we catch them, the only way they’ll be looking them in the eye is on a slab at the morgue. Before I was sent packing after your case, I had them thinking about logistics instead of people.”

  Lynn covered Clint’s hand excitedly. “We have to hurry up to Albuquerque. I want to get a lead before they do. I bet we can crack this sucker wide open in no time. What do you think, CD, three or four killers?”

  “Four’s too many. I’m figuring three, and at least one’s a woman.”

  “Why don’t you like to think of gender?”

  “I do eventually,” Clint replied. “On
your case, Reeves and Labrie tore the rape victims’ family’s lives apart, looking for a vigilante. Even after I’d helped them nail a bunch of other cases, they wouldn’t let loose of the ‘Death Wish’ type profile. You hit guys all across the country. Granted, you left a bloody calling card, but you robbed them blind. The vigilante types don’t steal. Robbing their target would be impure. Not for you. No guy, even a serial killer would have done what you did. The act wasn’t angry. It was methodical. I knew you weren’t flying into town. You were too smart for that.”

  “Damn you! Rattling all that off makes me look stupid. You knew I was a woman, a psycho instead of anger driven, a stranger to the marks because I robbed them, and you knew I wasn’t flying because you suspected I was on a budget.” Montoya patted Clint’s cheek. “You love this stuff. You just shuffle in like Andy from Mayberry, and then start gluing the pieces together, you prick! There must have been one last piece that let you find me so you could watch Taylor get it.”

  Clint sat up. “Hey… oh… Laredo told you.”

  Montoya giggled while wagging her finger at Dostiene. “You watched the whole thing but didn’t take me in. How come?”

  Clint lifted a hand in a dismissive gesture. “No one was on my neck yet. When I picked out Gradowsky as your next target, I knew I’d have to take you in. My FBI partners were getting ready to blow. If there’s anything they hate worse than innocent victims getting murdered, it’s scum sucking rapists and murderers getting offed before the taxpayers spend millions on convicting them to keep the bloated Justice Department on the public teat.”

  Montoya laughed. “Okay… okay, how’d you figure out Taylor and Gradowsky?”

  “I didn’t. You were throwing a dart at a select group of large cities, not the marks. Your MO was young victims brutally raped and murdered with their killers getting off on a technicality. That reduced the available target list. Then I factored in wealth, and one last tell – size. You liked the big ones.”

  Lynn frowned, sitting back with her arms folded. “Now you’re pissing me off. What the hell do you need me for? You’re like a criminal Brainiac.”

  Dostiene put his arm around Lynn. “Don’t be like that. I did pour over a lot of street level video, looking for a like vehicle in different cities, at different crime scenes.”

  “Shit!”

  “I got a license plate, I got your name, and then I found you with Taylor. I put a GPS tracker on your Accord. I didn’t have to figure out Gradowsky. I just waited for you to pick him out.”

  Montoya whipped up her right hand with the index finger and thumb a millimeter apart. “You’re this close to getting cut, CD! This… close!”

  Instead of moving away, Clint grabbed her hand before she could pull it away. He kissed her fingers. “I need you on this, baby. I know they have old money, parents with legal teams, and a thousand people who would swear they’d never do anything so heinous. You’re the bait for the trap so I can execute all three of these turds.”

  Montoya grinned. “Oh baby, you know what I like. You need me to get all the way strapped down waiting to get my tits cut off.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Yeah, and if you’re late, I get mutilated.” Montoya pouted her lower lip out. “Would you leave me if I get a tit cut off?”

  “Never, baby.”

  “Don’t I get to play at all?”

  “I’d have to wound one, and that would be even more dangerous,” Clint reminded her. “I’ll do it if you want.”

  “I want.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Female. The one who looks to be enjoying it the most,” Lynn answered. “Maybe I can set them up to be drugged before I end up strapped to the table. Then I can play with all three. We need to get moving to Albuquerque.”

  “We’re not in a competition.”

  “Says you.” Lynn stood up. “On your feet, soldier! Hey… those two deadbeats stuck us with the tab.”

  Dostiene chuckled. “Just noticed that, huh?”

  Clint gestured to the waitress who came over smiling. He stood up and gave her a hundred dollar bill when she handed him the check. “Keep the change.”

  The waitress’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Sir.”

  On the way out of the restaurant Lynn hip checked Dostiene, but only ended up bouncing off and almost running into an oncoming restaurant customer.

  “Damn it, Clint,” Lynn whispered, rubbing her hip while limping to keep up. “What the hell? Are you made of cement? You know you just ruined that girl for serving with that tip. It’s a terrible precedent.”

  “She deserved the tip. We got our meal on time, just as we asked for it. She didn’t interrupt our conversation, and she filled our drinks when we needed them filled. What more was she supposed to do?”

  Lynn grabbed his arm with a gasp of happy surprise. “I knew it. You were a busboy, waiter, or something like that way back when. Oh, I so got you, CD.”

  Dostiene kept walking, grinning at being set up so easily. “I let my guard down for five seconds and you nail me. I waited tables once long ago. There… you happy?”

  Montoya practically skip stepped at his side. “Oh, I so am! I want to know everything about you. If we’re getting married, having kids, and making cupcakes together, I need to know every detail.”

  Clint held the door for her with a smile. “I don’t think so.”

  Lynn pointed at him as she walked by. “You owe me for deducing you were a server.”

  Dostiene followed her out, laughing as he walked. “I have to admit, I haven’t had this much fun with anyone. You are special.”

  Montoya turned back into his arms. “I know you’re joking around but we were meant for each other.”

  Clint cupped her chin with his right hand. “I don’t know, baby. Think about it. Picture our first fight as a couple. The next morning I’m looking to sing soprano in the Vienna Boys Choir and Tonto rips your throat out.”

  Dostiene pats her cheek and walks on.

  “I…I could change,” Lynn called out after him, smiling when she sees his shoulders shaking in amusement. “I know. You could chain me up after a fight!”

  Clint is now laughing uproariously as he unhitches Tonto’s leash from the post in the shade, and picks up the portable dog bed. After giving Tonto the leftovers from his meal, Clint dumps Tonto’s water dish. “See, it wasn’t so bad out here in the shade, huh?”

  “So, where do we go first?”

  “The nicest hotel in Albuquerque, baby.” Clint gestured for Tonto to follow and led the way to their vehicle. We stay in style from now on.”

  “CD! Don’t you go soft on me. I want to nail the killers before those FBI profiling nitwits. We need to get there and hit the local PD’s database for-”

  “Hold on.” Dostiene gripped Lynn’s shoulders, smiling down at her. “We have a state of the art notebook satellite computer, permission from Langley to join forces with this task force, and a password to anything Langley can hack into. Why the hell should we interact with the local forces of justice? Oh… I get it… you want to screw around with the locals with authority.”

  Lynn slapped the side of Dostiene’s face lightly. “Yeah… kinda. You got a problem with that, CD?”

  “I guess not. You want to stroll in there all dressed up like the TV show criminal groups do and demand a task force room and the whole nine yards, huh?”

  Montoya’s lips tightened into straight lipped angst. “Yeah, I do! Let’s have some fun. You know the rumor mill will have me outed as a serial killer. Think about the looks we’ll get when I stroll in with you at your side.”

  “On one condition – you stay calm and professional through all their rantings. Not one snide remark or faceoff. Deal?”

  Lynn sighed, turning toward their car. “Deal. I need to go shopping if I’m to look the part though.”

  Dostiene grinned. “Of course.”

  Chapter Seven: Killer Trail

  The desk sergeant stared back at Dostiene w
ith undisguised hostility. Clint had his FBI ID held up after revealing the initial revelation as to why he and Montoya were there. Montoya, dressed in her new black skirt to the knee, low black heels and white blouse, hair tied tightly back into a bun, was the picture of a professional in law enforcement or business. Dostiene wore his own conservative men in black ensemble.

  The florid faced, thinning haired desk sergeant, looked over Dostiene’s credentials carefully, although it was obvious he had been expecting them. He handed the ID back. “You like working with serial killers as partners, huh?”

  Dostiene glanced over at a smiling Montoya, and then nodded. “Yeah, she’s a hell of a lot better than some I’ve had.”

  The desk sergeant leaned forward over the counter, his fists clenched. “You think this is some kinda’ joke, Agent Dostiene?”

  “Nope. I think it’s the best chance to catch a host of murderous swine who think it’s a joke to torture and maim women. If you have a better idea, please state it. If not, please show us to an area where we can work. We have some ideas to research I believe may bring this murderous chaos to an end.”

  Dostiene’s demeanor impressed the older sergeant. He stepped back for a moment, gathering the folders he had been assigned to give them when they arrived. He looked up finally and stuck out his hand. “I’m Dominic Pantera, Sir. If you two can catch these monsters, I don’t care what you have to do.”

  Clint smiled as he gripped Pantera’s hand. “We will catch them, Dom. Guaranteed.”

  Pantera looked into Dostiene’s eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah… I believe you will. Follow me.”

  Pantera led them to a small office through a gaggle of frowning police personnel. The room was equipped with a computer and desk with chairs. “The password has been encoded already into this station. Anything not in the files I gave you can be accessed on the search line in the computer. Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Dom,” Clint replied. “We’ll keep you updated as to our progress.”