No Ordinary Killer

by Rita Karnopp

  “Like I said—“

  “Have him call me before ten.”

  “Please?”

  She wanted to tell him to piss up wind, but refrained. “It’s important, Josh. I appreciate it.”

  “Dang, you can sound nice if you want to. Been a long time, kinda get out of practice, eh?”

  “I’m sure your audience got a chuckle with that one. It’s about the twins, so now that you know it’s not for me, maybe you truly will give him the message.”

  “Something happen to Tina or Tucker?”

  “No, but … he’ll know … just have Coop call.” She hung up the phone before Josh had a chance to add a few more insulting comments. She hated when he felt a need to show everyone how much he loathed his partner’s ex-wife.

  Another quick dial rang James’ office. She sipped on the now lukewarm coffee.

  “James Airhart, attorney at law.

  “Rhonda, is James in, this is Megan Reynolds.”

  “Oh, Megan … he—“

  “Don’t give me a song and dance, this is important … more than important … it’s an emergency.” She recognized the muffled sound of Rhonda’s palm over the phone and she knew she was speaking with James. He’d better take the call or she’d drive over to his office and give him a piece of her mind.

  “Megan. How’s it going? Saw that dreadful blaze of Cooper’s in the paper. He okay?”

  “Don’t know, James. He’s my ex-husband now, remember? Don’t have time to chat. I need you to draw up papers giving Cooper full custody of the twins.”

  “What? Are you crazy? You have any idea what I went through getting you full custody?”

  “As I recall, I paid you handsomely, so why are your panties in a bunch? Cooper and I have come to an agreement and this is the result. I need for you to call him at the station and tell him you’re getting these papers ready. If he isn’t there, call him at the Winslow show—“

  “Oh, I get it. A little trade for his silence? You’re getting yourself in a little deep, Megan. I could get into trouble, too, if I know about your offer to give up your children in exchange for his silence.”

  “Don’t be a fool, James. This has nothing to do with … why am I explaining myself to you? You work for me. You must get Cooper the message that I called you and that you are following through with it. That’s all.”

  “I can’t get it done in less than an hour.”

  “James, I didn’t say it all had to be done. I said to call him and tell him it’s being processed. Whether we follow-through with this is irrelevant. Tell him I called and told you to do it.” She smiled, knowing she’d never give Cooper what he wanted. If he thought he was getting full custody of the twins, then that was his mistake.

  “I’ll call him, but, Megan, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Don’t I always?” The line went dead and it annoyed her. The phone rang in her hand, she jumped. “Yes?”

  “Megan, turn on the TV.”

  The hushed voice of her lover made her long for him. “Why?” She reached for the remote and pressed the on button. Noticing the time, she realized Kari Winslow was the reason for his concern.

  “Damn, is Cooper her guest?” Megan’s heart raced. “I’ll take him down if he wants a fight.”

  “Be quiet and listen.”

  “Don’t tell me to be….” she paused, then pushed the volume up.

  “It is with regret and much disappointment that Detective Cooper Reynolds will not be my guest this morning. No, he wasn’t afraid to chat with us….”

  The audience laughed and Megan couldn’t help sensing the shallowness of the crowd. Relief that Cooper wasn’t there washed over her, and she couldn’t help smiling to herself.

  “…it has come to our attention that Detective Reynolds was called to yet another murder scene. Yes, you’ve guessed it. Word has it that the second murder in Malicious Intent is identical to the scene the police are now taping off for investigation.”

  Megan pressed her fingers over her lips. “No! It can’t be. Why is this happening?”

  “I don’t know love, gotta go.”

  “Well, Miss Reynolds, are you out there listening? Our viewers are wondering if you feel the same as you did yesterday. Is your book a blueprint for murder? Do you feel any remorse or any responsibility yet? Maybe you should call and chat with us. We’d love to hear what you have to say.”

  Kari was baiting her … the bitch. Megan considered calling … what would she say? Was the killer using her novel as a blueprint for murder? She grabbed the phone book and found the number. She dialed, realizing her fingers were trembling.

  “Well, folks, guess who we have on the line? Hi, there, Megan Reynolds.”

  “Hi, Kari. I was watching your show this morning, as I usually do, and I’m calling because you asked me to.” Megan never watched the bitch’s show, but a little ass-kiss couldn’t hurt at this point.

  “Well, all of us here are wondering what you think about this latest development. Can you describe how you feel about this?”

  Megan cleared her throat and struggled to put some emotion into her voice. “I’m … shocked. I’m so devastated over the first murder that I can’t sleep. This is shocking and….” She paused to stifle a sob for the audience. “…so sad.”

  “We hear your pain, Miss Reynolds. What do you make of the latest killings?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t know anything about a second killing until you just mentioned it a few minutes ago. I can’t begin to express my sorrow for the family of the young man.”

  “Could you tell us about the second murder in your book, or would you prefer I just read from Malicious Intent?”

  Megan wasn’t prepared for the question. Her lip trembled. It had been a mistake to call in. “I would prefer that we don’t sensationalize it, Kari. It’s one thing to put it in a fiction book, but once it’s real … well, it seems too insensitive to talk about it like a common basketball game.” The audience clapped loud, Megan smiled. She’d outwitted Ms. Winslow.

  “You think readers realize that a book is only imagination? I mean, they seem real. They give people ideas. They entertain and excite. Don’t you think they also incite?’

  “Yes, maybe so. But, like I said yesterday on your show, a writer shouldn’t have to feel responsible for every nut case out there that steps over the line.” Several booing people made her comment sound ugly.

  “That’s not to say I don’t feel bad this has happened. People need to read Malicious Intent and then judge for themselves. It’s—“

  “Good for sales.”

  Megan cringed at the laughing audience. “It’s … a way to be aware. To be conscious of the intent. I didn’t write it to awaken a killer. I didn’t intend to have some monster out there copying the murders in my book. I had no clue that Malicious Intent, even with the publicity and reception it’s received, would incite such a grizzly response.”

  “I hear your words, Miss Reynolds, but I’m not convinced. I believe violence begets violence. Gentleness begets gentleness.”

  The audience gave their beloved Kari Winslow a standing ovation. Megan wanted to wipe the smug smile from the annoying woman’s face. “I can only hope people will read Malicious Intent, then decide for themselves. That’s all I ask.”

  “Well, we’ve been talking with the author of Malicious Intent. No doubt the sales for this book will triple by the end of the day. You be the judge. When we come back, let’s take a look at the second murder in Reynold’s book. We’ll also be talking with psychologist, Trevor Watts, and how a killer’s mind works. Stay with us, won’t you?”

  Megan pressed the off button. Well, according to Kari’s prediction, book sales would triple by the end of the day. Megan smiled. Things were going nicely after all.

  * * *

  At ten in the morning the sun struggled to melt the hoarfrost that gripped every tree branch, blade of grass, and every inch exposed to God’s night air. The white wonderland personified s
erenity. Walking toward the crime scene, Cooper hesitated, not wanting to shatter the illusion.

  “Hey, Cooper,” Josh yelled. “Over here.”

  Josh stood to the right, away from the taped-off area … just like the first time. “How’s it going, partner?” Cooper thought his question sounded hollow and forced.

  “Damn, that was quite the picture in the paper of your dad’s Mustang blazing in glory. What the shit happened?”

  “Tell you later. We have a crime scene to investigate. We the first on the scene?”

  “All business … fine with me. We’re first. But before you get wound up on this case, your ex called and wants you to contact her something about the twins.”

  “What about Tina and Tucker?”

  “Shit, touchy this morning, aren’t we? I asked her the same thing and she said you’d know.”

  “Long night, sorry. Yeah, I know, I’ll deal with her later. Let’s get this over with.” Cooper knew he sounded cross, and Josh should be the last person he took it out on, but no sleep and his dad’s car totaled did not make for a happy man. Now this second murder, no doubt a replica of scene two described in Megan’s book. It all made him sick.

  “This is getting damn annoying. I can’t believe this shit has happened again. I mean … one murder copied is one thing, but … well, the two cases are nothing alike. If the killer in the first case was awakened by Megan’s book, does this mean the killer of this one has awakened, too? This is too damn creepy.”

  Cooper had to admit, Josh’s comments made sense. “No way in hell could we have anything but a copycat killer at this point.” Pulling on latex gloves, Cooper entered the house and headed straight for the bedroom. As expected, there were no surprises. The young man’s fetal position foretold the beginning of a familiar murder.

  “As in the first case, there’s evidence of anthropophagy.” Cooper paused to jot it down in his notebook.

  “I hate it when you say shit like that, Cooper. Why don’t you just say consumption of the victim’s flesh and blood? Looks like it’s another Dracula killing.”

  “Evidence of anal sodomy and indications that the killer had stabbed the victim’s rectum with a knife.”

  “The right eye has been popped out just like before.”

  “I noticed. We can expect body organs to have been removed….” Cooper hesitated in his description of known evidence. In the first crime scene they had seized pieces of surgical glove in the body cavity and later had the evidence concealed. They’d concluded that the killer wore gloves because he imagined himself performing surgery. Cooper couldn’t remember if Megan mentioned this evidence in her book. He had put it in his case notes and it was mishandled with the chain of evidence. The judge had thrown it out as inadmissible.

  “What’s the matter? You see a ghost or what?”

  Cooper shot Josh a look. “Besides you and me, who worked the first Baker Manor crime scene investigation?”

  “We teamed with Sparks and Weaver.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. We worked with Sparks and Weaver on this one, too.”

  “You’re right. When we get back to the station, let’s pull them in on this case, too.”

  “Why? Shouldn’t we stick with Murphy and Denver? I mean, they’re working on the Haffer case right now.”

  “Let’s put Sparks and Weaver on both cases with us, just like before. Murphy and Denver will understand. Set up a team meeting for around five today. Have the old case files pulled and all up-to-date evidence compiled for comparisons. We have some major work ahead of us. I’ll finish up here if you want to get things set up.”

  “Shit, you don’t have to ask me twice. I hate this scene.”

  “One more thing,” Cooper lowered his voice. “Have Delores do two things: one, pull the case files from the third murder in Megan’s book. Two, do a computer search for any other cases the four of us worked on together as a team.”

  “Got ya. See you at five.”

  Cooper nodded, aware how quickly his partner evacuated the area. This case had taken months of night and day investigation. The haunting truth was they found a suspect that all the evidence pointed to, yet like Clarence Stevenson, Michael Powers claimed he was innocent up to the day he was killed in prison. Cooper believed they never found the bastard that killed twenty-year-old Steven Okre.

  Both cases had bothered Cooper from the beginning. Both cases were paramount in his rise to detective. Now both cases were being duplicated … what did this all mean?

  What if Sparks or Weaver had been Megan’s source and lover? Hell, Sparks was his brother-in-law for Christ’s sake … what was he thinking? Cooper never wanted to know who she slept with; now it seemed more important than he cared to admit. Could a fellow officer be responsible for pointing the evidence in Cooper’s direction? The case file information was available to the team of four: partners Weaver and Sparks, and partners Josh Arnott and Cooper Reynolds.

  Something else suddenly bothered him. Would Megan have enough brains to have written this whole book herself: plot, details, and the discipline of writing it? He didn’t have to ask himself that question again. It pissed him off that he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  Time was running out for a twenty-year-old topless dancer … the third victim described in Megan’s book.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dallas Fortune graduated top of her class. She’d been admired for her coolness in the field and her uncanny ability to separate fact from fiction. That instinct and tenacity also got her in trouble. Internal Affairs took an interest because of her impulse and compulsion to get to the truth.

  Not once in the three years she’d been Internal Affairs had she allowed herself to become personally involved with a man she was investigating. So why Cooper Reynolds? The man was driven, something she could relate to and admire. The man was bent on proving his innocence at the risk of losing everything. One last quality spoke for itself: his singular love and devotion to his two children. It didn’t take Dallas long to conclude Cooper Reynolds did not disclose any case file information to his ex-wife.

  That left Megan somewhere between a self-centered witch and a criminal. Megan Reynolds was the key to this entire investigation. Her lover and informant would be the same person. The Megan that came to Cooper’s apartment last night wasn’t that cool, collective woman that appeared on Kari Winslow’s show. Someone was using Megan to get to Cooper. Why would be the challenge and answer. Once Dallas figured out why, the who, what, where, and when would fall into place. It always did.

  Exhausted, Dallas pressed into the pillow and closed her eyes. The throbbing of her arm echoed inside her head. She’d already taken the Darvocet Doctor Hammel prescribed, but it didn’t seem to be helping that much. How would she explain a damn sprained wrist and bruised arm to Bicsak? They’d been in some tight scrapes together, but an injury in a car accident seemed almost embarrassing. Three in the morning with a suspect and failed brakes car accident would take some explaining.

  Her thoughts wandered back to Cooper. Short, spiked reddish-blonde hair and deep green eyes, a combination similar to her own. It was his smile that created incredibly boyish dimples in both cheeks that she found most captivating. In the past she’d preferred rakish European men, dark and dangerously handsome. Cooper had that carefree look about him, yet beneath it all a serious, sensitive man lurked. The kind of man that scared Dallas.

  Cooper’s magical fingers massaging her feet played back in her thoughts. It seemed so natural, so intimate … so right. Then, the ex-wife from hell. Megan Reynolds’ rather attractive, yet high fashion appearance didn’t surprise Dallas. Her hostility and willingness to give up her kids in exchange for Cooper’s silence did surprise Dallas. How could a mother so easily give up custody rights?

  Being a mother wasn’t something Dallas could speak from experience, and never would. She couldn’t have children. Maybe that was why she never allowed herself to become seriously involved with any one man after her fail
ed marriage. She’d made the decision to remain single a long time ago. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have relationships. Sex was appealing and enjoyable, something she wasn’t planning on giving up for a long time. A demanding job and traveling for months on end wasn’t conducive to a permanent relationship anyway. Juggling a husband, kids and a job wasn’t in her future.

  There were times though, like right now, that Dallas wondered what kind of mother she’d have been. She certainly wouldn’t have deserted them like her mother had, nor would she have bargained them away like Megan Reynolds had done hours ago.

  The phone rang, jolting Dallas from her drowsy thoughts. Fumbling in the semi-darkness, she finally found her cell phone and moved her finger along the “slide to unlock” arrow.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Fortune?”

  “Yes, this is Dallas Fortune.” She sat, her senses alive.

  “Captain Gulchinski here. I thought you should know that it’s happened again. The second murder in Malicious Intent has been … was just discovered. The call I received indicated the team has been activated … uh … for some reason we were told you didn’t need to be included on this one. I found that strange and thought you should be notified.”

  “Why keep me out of this one? Who the hell told you not to call me? I have a bruised wrist not a broken head, for Christ’s sake. That really pisses me off.”

  “Bicsak suggested we let you rest. Expected you’d be hot under the collar. I happen to know you believe Reynolds. So do I. That’s why I want you included on this case. Something stinks about what’s happening, and its important Reynolds has someone watching his back.”

  “I’m investigating with an open mind, Captain Gulchinski. What’s the address, I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  “

  Twelve-sixteen Forest Lane. You know where that is?”

  “No, but I’m sure my cab will.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll … pick you up myself. This is one crime scene I want to see. You still at the B and B down the street from Reynold’s apartment?”