“Who is she?” Jamie demanded. “I need to know who she is.”
Serena’s BlackBerry beeped. She punched a button, then looked up. “I think I can help you out there. Jazz just emailed me. Her name is Lisa Dupre. Nineteen years old, she disappeared just after New Year’s last year.”
“And died a few weeks? months? later,” Jamie muttered. “If she died only four to six months ago, he kept her a long time.” The thought nauseated her.
Dakota blew out a sigh. “Connor, you want to take the family?”
“I want to be there,” Jamie ground out. No, she really didn’t, but this girl’s poor family … what they must be going through.
“What?”
“I need to be there for them. In case they have any … questions. Unfortunately, they won’t like the answers.”
Dakota and Connor exchanged a look. “Jamie, they don’t need to know what their daughter suffered.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. They’ll know she had a bad ending, they don’t need to know the extent of it.”
“Will you give them my card? Tell them to call if they need to? I’ll be … careful with my answers to whatever they ask.”
Dakota paused, then held out a hand. “Sure.”
Jamie pulled a card out of her lab pocket. She kept some in there just in case. Dakota took it and slid it into the back pocket of his khakis.
Connor pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll give them a call and let them know. They may want to see her.”
Serena shook her head. “They don’t want to see her like this. I’d try to talk them out of that.”
While Connor did the dirty work, Jamie studied the slash on Lisa’s throat. Once again he’d used enough force to hit the bone. “So much anger,” she whispered.
Serena looked at her. “Why do you have the answers?”
Jamie let a deep breath slip out between her lips. “Because whoever killed her tried to kill me eleven and a half years ago.”
The woman blanched, her classically beautiful features twisted with shock. “What?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Care to share?”
“Not really. Maybe sometime. Does she have any broken bones?”
Serena studied Jamie but didn’t push. Instead, she gestured to the wall where she’d hung x-rays. She pointed to the wrist. “Broken in three places. But healed back pretty well.”
“He put a cast on her.”
Not bothering to ask Jamie how she knew that, Serena moved on to Lisa’s leg. “Here. A broken leg. The bone split in a couple of pieces. This part looks like it healed nicely, but there’s a chip missing here.”
Studying the x-rays, Jamie felt a chill move up her spine. She could have been looking at her own. “He used a baseball bat on her legs. Just enough force to break the bone, not shatter it.”
A swiftly indrawn breath from behind her made her look over her shoulder. Dakota’s eyes pierced her. “A baseball bat?”
Shoving all of the emotions that wanted to bubble to the surface deep down into a safe place, Jamie nodded. Dakota winced and Connor’s jaw went rigid.
Serena continued. “See this? The ulna. Broken in two places.”
“She fought him.”
Connor stepped forward. “Can you find any prints on her skin?”
Serena shook her head. “No, but I’ve scraped her for some trace evidence. I’ve also gone over her clothes with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Find anything?”
“Nothing yet. We’ll see.”
Lila stuck her head in the door. “Family will be here in about five minutes.”
A collective sigh echoed around the room.
Then Serena moved to cover Lisa’s body. Jamie decided it might be up to her to convince the family they didn’t want to see how Lisa ended up.
An hour later, Dakota marveled at Jamie’s skill in handling the shattered parents. She’d convinced them they didn’t want to see the remains of their daughter, and by the time they left, they’d decided on cremation.
Jamie had stood in the hallway and watched as Mrs. Dupre sobbed into her husband’s shoulder. They’d walked to the elevator clinging to one another, grieving the loss of their eldest child. Then Jamie had turned to Dakota and said, “You’re right. They’re better off not knowing.”
“I’ll give them a couple of hours to do some processing, then Connor and I will head over to the house to ask them some questions.”
They all needed a break from the intense emotions running through the room and had decided to meet at Flannigan’s. Jamie declared she didn’t really have an appetite, but decided she’d like the company.
Dakota was glad. He felt she needed to get away from the lab for a while. Samantha managed to get away and join them, as did George Horton.
Monica, a waitress they were all on a first-name basis with, approached them with a smile. Her spiky purple hair didn’t move in her trek across the floor. Today she had on a nose ring and four earrings in her left ear. “My favorite group is back.” She eyed George with a flirtatious smile. “And a newbie. Welcome.”
Offering her a small smile, George nodded. “Thanks.”
Jamie asked, “How’s school going, Monica?”
“It’s going. One more semester and I’ll be done. I graduate in December.”
“That’s great. You’re going to make a fine teacher.”
Monica smiled and took their order. After she left, Dakota turned to George. “Do you have anything you can add to your profile on this guy now that we’ve got another body? I’ve got the team at Quantico doing a profile workup too, and everything you’ve said has coincided with what they think. So far, it looks like we’ve found three of his victims. If Jamie’s right and he’s branding each one, we’re up to seventeen. That’s a lot of missing bodies.”
George shook out his napkin and placed it across his lap. He studied his fingers, then said, “I would say this guy is in his mid-thirties to early forties. Probably well educated. Physically strong. He’s probably something of a loner but can fit in well in social situations. He’s learned to adapt, be comfortable anywhere.”
“Why do you say that?”
George spread his hands. “Well, think about it. If he hadn’t, there’s no way he would still be walking the streets of our fair city. Someone would have caught on to him by now. He would have slipped up and made some kind of mistake.” His lips twisted. “From what you’re telling me, his crimes have been darn near perfect.”
Dakota shifted. “Not perfect. No one’s perfect. Which means there’s evidence out there, we just have to find it.”
“Be that as it may, I think he’s going to be a tough one to nail down.”
Unfortunately, Dakota felt like George was probably right.
Samantha took a sip of water. “What about his background. How he grew up? His home life?”
“Well,” George shrugged, “of course this is all based on an educated guess, but I would say he suffered a horrible childhood, was probably abandoned by a parent, and most likely suffered continuous abuse that messed up his mind.”
Dakota snorted. “I understand that children who are abused often follow the pattern and become abusers themselves, but my dad was about as bad as they come and I didn’t grow up killing people.”
Jamie twisted the napkin between her hands, her eyes on some faraway spot across the restaurant. When her mind registered his comment, she snapped her gaze in his direction. “I didn’t know that.”
He felt a flush creep up into his neck and jaw. “I don’t usually go around announcing it. But my point is, my dad had a pretty heavy hand, knocked me and my mom around. I had some rocky teen years, but that didn’t turn me into a killer.”
George shook his head. “I’m not talking about that kind of abuse. I’m talking about stuff that you can’t wrap your head around but that he thinks is normal.”
“Because it’s all he knows,” Jamie off
ered with a frown.
Samantha shook her head. “I’m not buying that. If he thinks it’s normal, he wouldn’t try to hide it. He’d be doing this stuff out in the open. Doesn’t the fact that he’s hiding his crimes suggest that he knows it’s wrong?”
“Not necessarily. He thinks what he’s doing is the norm but understands that not everyone holds the same beliefs that he does. He understands the fact that he could go to jail for what he’s doing, but he feels justified in going above the authorities’ heads, so to speak, in order to accomplish his goals – whatever those may be. It’s possible he thinks he answers to a higher power.”
Connor nodded. “Okay, so we have to stop him before he finds victim number eighteen.”
George glanced at his watch.
Dakota asked, “Are you in a hurry? We usually just kind of take our time over lunch since we all work weird hours.”
“No, I just have an appointment in about forty-five minutes.” “You work on a contract basis for the department, right?”
“Right. I do a lot of consulting. And I worked out a deal with the powers-that-be that I could use the office at the hospital to meet with clients I see in my private practice. That way I don’t have to keep up with two locations.”
“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.”
George smiled. “I think so. At least for the ones that don’t mind coming into the same area as the morgue. And the ones that do mind …” He shrugged. “I manage to work around that.”
Monica approached the table with a tray bearing food … and a small white box decorated with a black ribbon.
Dakota eyed it, wondering who it was for. The waitress saved it for last, placing it in front of Jamie beside the plate of food.
Jamie looked up. “What’s this?”
“Some man asked me to deliver it to you along with your food. Said he wanted to surprise you, that you were very special to him and you’d know who it was from.”
Dakota tensed, all senses on alert. He slid out of the booth and stood, eyes darting to the entrance to the restaurant. “Who? Where is he?”
Monica set the tray on the table behind her. A frown pulled her eyebrows to the bridge of her nose. She looked around. “I don’t see him.”
Jamie still stared at the box as though it were an angry rattler poised to strike.
George set his hamburger down. “What’s going on?”
Dakota’s eyes narrowed. “Describe him for me.”
“Um … kind of average looking. You know. Black hair with some gray, probably forty-something.”
With that paltry description, Connor motioned he’d go searching while Dakota handled the restaurant.
He raised a brow to George. “Bomb?”
“You think?” He rolled his eyes. “Or it could be some kind of booby trap as soon as you open it. A poisonous spider? A deadly powder?” George frowned. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit?”
“Maybe.”
Jamie stood, hands shaking, but calm on her face. “Then we need to get everyone out of the restaurant.”
At the seriousness of their reaction, George’s eyes went wide. “It’s not really big enough for a bomb, is it?” he asked as he backed away from the table.
“Who knows? What I do know, I don’t like. A mysterious man delivers a package to someone who might have a stalker? That smells hinky to me. Let’s evacuate, and if we’re wrong, face the consequences later.”
Samantha pulled out her leather case that held her badge and FBI credentials. The one-inch blue letters on the upper half of the leather wallet drew stares of all kinds as she started going table to table asking people to leave in an orderly manner; explaining that they had a situation that needed to be handled.
Patrons exited, questions floating on the air, murmuring amongst themselves, several grumbling about having their meal interrupted.
Jamie and George followed the crowd out onto the sidewalk. Officers arrived, lights flashing on the black-and-white vehicles. One officer handed Dakota a roll of yellow crime scene tape and he went to work, sectioning off the restaurant.
The bomb squad arrived and set up shop.
While Samantha and Connor worked crowd control with several other officers, Dakota walked over to Lieutenant Michael Swift, the man in charge of the bomb squad, and explained the package.
“What makes you think it’s a bomb?”
“I don’t know that it is, but there are circumstances surrounding the package that make me suspicious – and paranoid.”
Michael drew in a breath. “All right, Dakota. I know you well enough to know that’s all I need to go on.” He turned to the man on his left. “Chris, suit up and take Abby.”
Chris nodded. “You got it, Loo.” He ducked back into the truck. Five minutes later, he emerged, dressed in Kevlar protective gear, with a highly trained German Shepherd at his side.
Dakota looked at Chris. “Abby?”
“Absolutely. The best bomb dog on the squad.”
“All right, this way.” Dakota led the way to the door of the restaurant, explaining the location of the package. Chris and Abby disappeared inside.
Outside, back across the street, away from any potential damage, they waited in silence, all eyes on the building.
Then Dakota spotted the waitress. “Hey, Connor, let’s get a description of the guy who left the package while we’re waiting.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” He pulled out a pad and pen and the two walked toward the woman.
Spotting them, she shoved her hands into her hair and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen. He just said to give the package to the woman with the white long-sleeved T-shirt on. He even pointed her out. I knew right away he meant Jamie.”
“I need you to go over what he looked like again. This time try to get in as much detail as you can, okay?” Dakota asked.
Frightened blue eyes blinked as Monica searched her brain for a description. “Um … he was old. Like maybe in his forties?”
“What else? Any tattoos? Anything to make him stand out?”
“He had a scar under his eye.”
“Which eye?”
“Um … left, I think. And like I said before, he had black hair with some gray in it.”
“Height?”
She eyed him. “Maybe a little shorter than you.” White teeth came out to chew on her bottom lip. Her nose ring quivered and tears filled her eyes. “He didn’t look dangerous.”
Dakota placed a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Hey, it’s not your fault, okay?”
Purple spikes slowly moved up and down in response to her reluctant nod. Then he asked her, “Are there any cameras in here?”
“You mean like security cameras?”
“Yeah.”
“Um, one over the door, but I think that one’s broken and it hasn’t been fixed yet, then there’s one in the bathroom hallway. And one in the dining area. I think that’s all.”
The one over the door was broken. Great.
He hid his frustration and said, “Since the camera’s broken, I want you to work with a sketch artist, all right?”
“Sure.”
He’d still want to look at the other cameras, but if the guy just walked in the door and handed the package to the hostess, then turned and walked out, he wouldn’t be on camera. “All right, check out the crowd. Do you see him?”
Her eyes roved from one person to the next. Finally, she shook her head. “No. No one looks like him that I can see.”
Dakota thanked her and walked over to Jamie. “How are you doing?”
“I’m scared. And mad.”
“Healthy fear is a good thing. But don’t let the mad make you do something you’ll regret.”
She gave him a long look, then turned as the man in Kevlar came from the building holding an open box in his gloved hands.
12
Jamie held her breath as the man motioned Dakota and Connor over. Both me
n pulled on gloves and Connor had a plastic baggie ready for the box. Samantha stood by her side, squeezing her fingers. “Well, it didn’t blow up.”
Jamie gave a halfhearted chuckle that died a quick death. “What are the odds that we’d be involved in two incidents requiring a bomb squad?” Just a little over a year and a half ago, Samantha had made a killer mad and he’d planted a bomb in her car. Fortunately, she’d managed to get out alive.
“I don’t think the numbers go high enough.”
Pulling in a shaky breath, Jamie let go of Samantha’s hand and walked toward the guys. Both of them looked a little sick. The bomb guy eyed her with … what? Compassion? Pity?
Dakota swallowed hard and capped the box. Was that a fine tremor she saw running through his hands? Connor shook his head and stepped toward her. Surely they didn’t think they were going to hide that from her, did they?
Stepping next to Dakota, she asked. “What’s in it?”
“Jamie, I really don’t think you want to see this.”
“It was delivered to me. It was meant for me. What’s in it?”
“Honey … ,” Connor began.
“Don’t honey me,” she snapped, spine going rigid. “I have a right to see it.”
“It’s a picture.”
“Of?”
“You.”
“Okay.” She raised a brow, trying for a brave front even while her insides quivered. “I’m guessing it’s a bad one.”
Dakota settled an arm around her shoulders. “Beyond bad.”
“Hey, hey.” The shout came from the woman who’d been identified as the manager of the restaurant.
Looking relieved at the distraction, Dakota turned. “Ma’am?”
“Can we get back to work here? I’m losing money by the minute.”
At Dakota’s look, Connor took over. He pulled the crime scene tape down, demanded order, and patrons filed back into the restaurant. Many asked questions, to which Connor replied, “I can’t discuss that right now.”
Jamie placed a hand on the plastic bag containing the box and tugged. Samantha stood at her side and George walked up to join them.
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