Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2

by Terri Reed

  He clicked off. She stepped away as he turned around. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. Though I should be the one thanking you. If you hadn’t shielded me from the explosion, I could be the one with the glass in my back.”

  “I have a feeling you’d have shielded me if I hadn’t beat you to it.”

  She grinned. “Probably.”

  He held the phone up. “That was the Victoria police. The Grand Hotel is being totally renovated. No guests. They didn’t find a victim in or around the hotel.”

  “This doesn’t make sense.” Sami turned to stare out the window. The setting sun cast long shadows over the city. Confusion tangled up her thoughts. Fingering the edges of the bandage at her temple, she contemplated this turn of events. “Why plant the hotel matchbook if there’s no victim? What if he planned to stash a victim there not knowing the hotel was under construction?”

  “That’s possible.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ve lost his trail.” Her fingers tapped restlessly on her thigh. “We’ll have to wait for another victim.” Her voice vibrated with suppressed fury. “Another bread crumb.”

  He felt the same scalding anger in his chest. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

  “Unless he still plans to go to Victoria. Maybe the clue isn’t the hotel itself but the city?” She stood. There was no mistaking the tenacity in her expression. “In the morning we need to head there. Somewhere in the city a body is waiting to be discovered.”

  SEVEN

  The next morning, Drew awoke sore all over his body. Taking a dive onto the pavement had done a number on his shoulder and hip; both areas showed purple bruises. After a dinner from room service, he’d relented and taken one of the pain pills, but the gash in his back had throbbed since the pain medication had worn off in the wee hours of the morning.

  He’d been loath to take more. He wasn’t sure how long the effects would remain, and the last thing he wanted was to be mentally impaired. Sami needed him coherent and ready to take down Birdman.

  Anger at the unknown killer motivated Drew to get up, shower and put back on the fresh clothes bought for him yesterday. He placed a call to his boss with an update of the situation and then made a quick call to his dad letting him know what was going on. Dad was relieved to hear Drew was okay but appalled at the turn of events.

  After hanging up with his father, Drew knocked on the connecting door to Sami’s room. They were scheduled to fly to Victoria, BC, in a few hours.

  The door between their rooms opened. Sami was dressed in one of the outfits purchased for her to replace her wardrobe, which had gone up in flames. The deep blue of her jeans and blouse made the blue in her eyes pop. Her blond hair was clipped back on the sides with barrettes, making her look younger than her twenty-eight years as he’d seen she was when he checked her ID. She greeted him with a smile. “Good morning. I hope you got some rest.”

  “A little. How about you?”

  She shrugged. “I slept some.”

  Eyeing the bandage on her head, he asked, “Did you change the dressing on your wound?”

  She nodded. “You?”

  He held out a clean bandage. “Would you change it for me? It’s out of my reach.”

  “Of course.” She swiftly and efficiently removed the old bandage for a new one. Her cool touch burned through him, making his senses hyperaware of her. He caught a whiff of apple shampoo. It must have been on her list.

  She was just like the shampoo. Tart and sweet.

  When she finished, he turned around to thank her, but the words lodged in his throat as his gaze landed on her mouth. Would she taste tart or sweet or both?

  Her lips parted slightly. The temperature in the room seemed to hike up a few degrees. His gaze met hers. She stared at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

  He stepped back. “We should go.”

  One side of her mouth tipped upward and determination flooded her expression. She held up a small knapsack in one hand and gestured to a carry-on suitcase. She’d bought both yesterday at the shop next to the hotel. Since she carried her wallet in her pants pocket, she still had her ID, cash and credit cards. She’d also bought him an identical traveler case, which he’d filled with the things Agent Foster had procured. “I’m all packed. Not that I had much to put in here.”

  They checked out of the hotel and were driven by two FBI agents to her bank so she could retrieve the copies of her research from her safe-deposit box. Then they were taken to Portland International Airport. Once there they headed straight to the security office and went through the necessary process to board the plane bound for Canada.

  Sami was convinced there was another victim somewhere in the city of Victoria. Drew hoped she was wrong, yet he had a feeling she was right. The senseless killings grated on his conscience. Birdman had to be stopped. But how many more people would die before that happened?

  On the plane, he tucked his and Sami’s carry-on cases in the overhead bin. Then he slid into the seat next to Sami. She’d placed the knapsack containing all the information she had on Birdman at her feet. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to let the contents out of her sight.

  She had purchased a map of Victoria at one of the gift shops in the airport. Now she had it spread out on her lap and her new smartphone in one hand and a red pen in the other. “I’m marking all the hotels I can find using the internet.”

  “That’s a very productive idea.” She was a marvel, this FBI agent. He suspected she’d go far within her agency.

  After a short layover in Seattle, they landed in Victoria with a map full of red dots.

  “Let’s head to The Grand Hotel first,” Sami said. “I want to double-check there’s nothing there.”

  Drew didn’t blame her. She’d been on the trail of this killer for six months. She knew how devious he was. Birdman could have anticipated they’d send the local authorities to check out the hotel and waited until after they’d completed their search to stage his victim in a room for Sami to find.

  They rented a car. They both wanted to drive, which didn’t surprise Drew. He’d already assessed her need for control. It was easy to identify because on many levels he, too, had control issues. They flipped a coin. Heads—he won.

  “You drove last time.” She reached for the coin on the pavement. “Let’s go two out of three.”

  He laughed and opened the passenger door for her. “You drive on the way back.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, slipping the coin into her jeans pocket before climbing in.

  He slid behind the wheel. Soon they exited the airport area. He took Highway 17, which would take them all the way into Victoria, the capital city of British Columbia. The scenic views of the many different landscapes that made up the island, from mountain ranges to rugged coastline, held Sami enthralled.

  He had to admit he thought his country the most beautiful. Especially in the Pacific Northwest. He’d visited Vancouver Island as a kid on holiday with his parents before his mom had taken off, leaving him and his dad to fend for themselves. Those were some of his fondest memories, as well as the most pain filled. He’d also come here with Gretchen on their first anniversary. Shaking his head, he pushed the memories aside.

  The city sat on the southern tip of Vancouver Island and had a large port area, which allowed the town to fill with tourists disembarking from cruise ships, as well as those venturing over the water on the ferry from the United States and Canada’s mainland. A mix of old-world England and modern Canada, the city was both quaint and progressive.

  Drew maneuvered the rental sedan through midmorning downtown traffic and found a spot in front of The Grand Hotel. After obtaining a ticket from the parking meter machine, Drew and Sami approached the hotel entrance.

  As they’d been told, the hotel was under construction. Huge sheets of plastic draped down the sides and scaffolding zigzagged across the exterior. They entered the lobby and went directly to the recepti
on desk to ask for the manager.

  The hotel definitely needed an update. The tired and worn carpeting and the faux-leather furniture circa 1970 made Drew feel as though he’d stepped back in time.

  A tall well-dressed man approached. His graying hair was slicked back from his face and emphasized his large nose and square jaw. “I’m Maurice Stranvic, the manager. How can I be of assistance?”

  Drew showed the man his badge. “I’m Inspector Kelley, RCMP, and this is Special Agent Bennett with the FBI. We have reason to believe a crime has been committed on the premises.”

  Maurice frowned. “The police were here yesterday. They searched the building and didn’t find anything amiss. As you can see we are undergoing some renovations. We’ve been closed for the past five days. No one but employees and construction workers have been on-site.”

  “We’d like to conduct our own search,” Drew replied, his gaze intent on the man. Was there something he was trying to hide?

  “What is it you are hoping to find?” Maurice asked, his voice rising slightly.

  “Sorry, sir. We can’t discuss an ongoing investigation,” Sami said, her voice courteous and even-toned. “Though we would appreciate it if you could check your hotel register and see if a James Clark or a Melinda Watson ever stayed here?”

  Drew had to give Sami credit for her professionalism. And he hadn’t thought to inquire about the woman—the victim they’d discovered in Vancouver.

  “Why is an American FBI agent investigating on Canadian soil?” Maurice questioned.

  “A joint effort,” Drew said in a tone that effectively closed the subject. “May we proceed?”

  “Of course.” Maurice led them to the reception desk. He opened a laptop and typed. After a few moments, he shook his head. “I did a search on those two names. Neither one has stayed in our establishment.”

  Drew wasn’t sure if he was more disappointed or afraid. Would they find another clue that would lead them to another location and another body or be left with a dead end?

  Maurice beckoned over a young Asian man who looked to be barely out of his teens.

  “Sir, what can I do for you?” the man asked.

  The hotel manager gestured to Drew and Sami. “Take Inspector Kelley and FBI Agent Bennett on a tour of the building. Leave nothing unchecked.” Maurice turned back to them. “Liam will show you around. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Drew watched the man saunter back behind the reception desk, then turned to greet their guide. “Hello, Liam. Do you know the hotel well?”

  Liam nodded. “Very well indeed, sir. My mother and my grandmother both worked here when I was a boy. I know every nook and cranny of this place.”

  “Good—then you won’t skip over anything,” Sami said. “We need to peek into every room.”

  Checking each room on all three floors ate up the afternoon. And they found nothing. No bodies, no blood, no birds.

  “Liam, has there been much crime in the hotel?” Sami asked, pointing to the small camera bolted to the ceiling near the staircase.

  “Not in recent years. Not since the hotel beefed up their security system. Before that we’d have the occasional loafer or thief try to sneak into rooms,” Liam replied as he descended the staircase.

  Drew and Sami followed close on his heels.

  “Though, now that I think of it, thirty years ago there was a murder here. Some lady was strangled and…” He paused for dramatic effect. “And mutilated.”

  Sami stopped in the middle of the stairs. “What?”

  Drew understood her shock; he felt the same stunned sensation.

  Liam paused to glance back. “It’s not something the management talks about, but my grandmother was working here at the time. She said the woman and her child had been staying in the hotel on vacation when it happened.”

  Drew exchanged a pointed look with Sami. They needed to find out more about the murder.

  They thanked Liam and Maurice, then headed out of the hotel. The temperature had dropped while the sun went down over the horizon.

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Birdman left the hotel matchbook,” Sami said while they walked toward the parking garage. “But what does a thirty-year-old murder have to do with Birdman’s killing spree?”

  “Only way to find out is to pull the case file.”

  With a wry twist of her lips, Sami said, “Let’s hope the Victoria police have had their records digitized or we might be in for a long night.”

  *

  As it turned out, VicPD’s digitized records went back only twenty years. Budget cuts and reallocation of funds had kept the information division of the police department from continuing with the uploading of files.

  True to Sami’s prediction, the night stretched and so did her nerves. She and Drew were escorted to a storage facility beneath the courthouse where boxes of files going as far back as the 1800s were stacked in rows, one box atop another. Layers of dust coated everything.

  It took several hours before they found the correct box corresponding to the year that Liam had said the murder at The Grand Hotel had taken place.

  Now Sami stared at the cold case file laid out on a table for the murder of an American woman named Becca Kraft, age thirty-five, a waitress and the single mother of one.

  “The method of strangulation and mutilation are eerily similar to the cases you have attributed to Birdman,” Drew said.

  She couldn’t quell the shudder that rippled through her as she snapped a photo with her phone of each page of the file. “But the question is, are we dealing with the same killer?”

  “This could have been his first kill,” Drew stated grimly.

  “If so, then why tip us off?” She snorted and answered her own question. “He’s a serial killer and apparently in desperate need of recognition.”

  “Or we’re dealing with a copycat and he wants us to know who he’s copying.”

  “But according to the investigator’s notes the details of Becca’s murder were never made public,” Sami pointed out. “Whoever killed Becca Kraft is either still killing or revealed his method to someone else.”

  “An apprentice,” Drew said, his tone making it clear how distasteful he found the idea.

  “Possibly.” Sami finished with the photos and replaced the file in the box. “If we’re dealing with the same killer—let’s say he committed this crime when he was an adult, like twenty-one—he’d be at least fifty-one now. That gives us an idea of our perp’s age.”

  “Now that we know the victim in Vancouver wasn’t the first time Birdman crossed the boundary between our countries, I want to head back to the VicPD and use their database.”

  “That’s a good idea. And I can have Agent Granger search the US databases going back to the mid-’80s.” She hated to think of all the victims that could have suffered at Birdman’s hands over the years.

  They returned to the Victoria Police Department headquarters, passing the colorful five-foot-tall totem pole gracing the front entrance to the building. Sami stared at the birdlike feature at the top. It struck her as ironic to see a bird carving. “Do you know what kind of bird that is?”

  Drew studied the carving. “Looks like a thunderbird. He is a symbol of power, protection and strength.”

  “It looks nothing like the silly bird drawings,” Sami remarked, her voice echoing with the frustration tying her insides into knots.

  This beautiful carving stood for something unique and wonderful, while Birdman’s drawings brought death and destruction.

  Inside the police station, Drew met with the chief of police and was granted access to the Canadian Police Information Centre database. Sami put a call in to her boss, who promised to phone if he found anything useful in the US database.

  Sami joined Drew as he trolled through the various case files on the CPIC, looking for similar unsolved murders.

  By the time they were done, they had ten cold cases that matched their criteria, all within the past two years.


  “We need a place to regroup,” Drew said. “I have a friend who owns a cottage near the shore. I’ll see if it’s available.”

  “That sounds good but we still have to check all the hotels,” Sami reminded him. “Just in case.” Not continuing the search for Birdman’s latest victim wasn’t an option.

  “You’re right. Let me talk to the chief. We’ll need help.”

  She held up her phone. “Could we make printed copies of the pictures I took of Becca Kraft’s file?”

  Palming her phone, he said, “I’ll see what I can do.” He walked away in search of the VicPD’s head officer.

  While she waited, she moved to the lobby, where she’d spotted a drink vending machine. Only she didn’t have any Canadian coins.

  A man stepped up next to her. “Too many choices?”

  Naturally cautious, she stepped away, giving herself room if she needed to defend herself. She looked at the man. His red hair seemed too bright to be natural and he had a ring in his nose. His overall appearance reminded her of the days of grunge bands. It was hard to tell his age. The guy could have been in his thirties. Maybe younger, maybe older. “I want a bottle of water,” she explained, “but I only have American coins.”

  The man smiled. One of his incisors had a gold cap. “Here, let me.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said, but he was already moving. He stuck a few coins in, pressed the button for the water. When the bottle thumped into the bin, he reached down to retrieve it.

  Handing the bottle to her, he said, “Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.” She took the water and the man strode out the front lobby doors and disappeared into the now dark night.

  She twisted off the cap and took a swig of the water. As the bottle tilted upward, her gaze snagged on something attached to the label. Frowning, she straightened the bottle and turned it so she could see the other side.

  A tiny yellow sticker with a small bird stared back at her.

  Her breath stalled. Her heart froze. Birdman.

  A shot of adrenaline galvanized her into action. She raced out of the building, searching for the red-haired grunge-garbed man. He was nowhere in sight.