Borderline

by Chase, T. A.

  Tanner nodded and stayed silent for a moment while Mac poured another tequila.

  “Why not tell your boss you knew her? Your number is bound to come up on her phone records.”

  “I made the decision to go in the morning and tell Billingsley. If I tell him, I might not get in too much trouble. Unlike what would happen if someone else tells him. I informed her parents earlier today and promised them I’d find her killer.”

  “I get that, but you’re going to have to do some fancy talking not to get taken off this case.” Tanner stood and strolled to where Mac leaned against the window frame. He rested his hand on Mac’s shoulder. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you working with me.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Tanner took the glass from Mac’s hand and entwined their fingers. He set the glass down on the end table as they passed it.

  “Time to sleep. You’re going to run yourself into the ground, and it won’t help the Levistons get closure.” Tanner pointed to the bed. “Lay down. I’ll set the alarm so you can get up early enough to go home and change before you go in.”

  Mac didn’t argue and climbed into bed. Tanner retrieved two aspirins and a glass of water for his lover.

  “Here. Take these. It’ll help with the headache you’re going to have in the morning.”

  Again Mac didn’t say anything. Did the man regret telling Tanner all that he had? Tanner didn’t care. He wouldn’t break the trust Mac had shown him by allowing Tanner to see into his personal life. Eventually maybe Tanner would show the same trust and tell Mac about the skeletons in his closet.

  Joining Mac in the bed, Tanner embraced him, and Mac sighed, relaxing into Tanner’s arms.

  “Sleep. The case isn’t going anywhere. We’ll look at everything again tomorrow.”

  Mac grunted, and Tanner smiled in the darkness. Not much of a talker late at night. He would have to remember that.

  His phone beeped, and he managed to snatch it from the stand without waking Mac. Flipping it open, he read the message.

  Leaving Houston.B gone for a week or so.

  K. B careful, he sent back.

  He tossed the phone, not caring where it landed. Wiggling a little, he slipped farther down under the covers and closed his eyes. Yes, morning would be there quickly, and he needed to get some rest to help Mac find the guy who’d killed his foster sister.

  Chapter Four

  “Boss, can I talk to you for a moment?” Mac poked his head around the door and looked at Billingsley.

  “Sure, Mac. Come on in and shut the door behind you.”

  Mac did that and stood in front of the desk, his hands clasped behind his back. Shit! This sucked. It was almost like being called in front of the principal at school. Yet he was the one who’d asked for the meeting.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I knew the latest victim.”

  Billingsley’s eyebrows shot up, and the captain looked surprised for a moment. “Who is she?”

  “She was my foster sister in California. I spent six months with her and her family until her father got transferred out of the state and I couldn’t go with them. I got back in touch with her several months ago.”

  “Why didn’t you say something to begin with?” Billingsley folded his hands on his desk.

  Mac shook his head. “I was worried you would pull me off the case, and I really want to catch the man who killed her.”

  Billingsley pursed his lips and stayed silent for several minutes. Mac kept himself from fidgeting. Any kind of punishment the captain came up with would be fitting. He shouldn’t have kept his connection to the case a secret.

  “As much as I know we’re not supposed to let our detectives work cases where they have a personal stake in it, you’re my best detective, Mac, and I can’t afford to take you off this case. If anyone is going to catch this bastard, it’d be you.”

  He heaved a silent sigh but simply nodded. “I promise I won’t do anything to mess this case up. I want to make sure the bastard fries for what he did.”

  “Good. Now get your ass out there and solve this case,” Billingsley ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” Mac left the office, and another bit of tension eased in him.

  * * * *

  Tanner stood in his office, arms folded, staring at the pictures taped to the large dry-erase board attached to one wall. Just a quick once-over and he knew the same man had killed all the women. The savageness of the knife wounds and the way each woman was displayed spoke of a deep-seated anger toward females. Yet the precision of the cuts told Tanner the killer was comfortable with a knife and knew how to use the blade to cause maximum pain or torture.

  The man favored a large blade with no serrations, like a KA-BAR or combat knife. Tanner made a note to double-check the ME’s report on the actual wounds. He’d have to dig through the crime scene photos again to see if they had any detailed pictures of the injuries, which could give him some more clues to the killer’s identity.

  Frowning, he shuffled the photos, pulling out the close-up images of each victim’s breast. He taped them to the board under their names and next to the images of the entire body. There was something in the design carved into the flesh. He could almost make it out, but the intricate swirls hid whatever was there perfectly.

  Tanner grabbed his phone and dialed Mac’s number.

  “Guzman.”

  “Hey, Mac, it’s Tanner.”

  “Hey. How’s it going?”

  A slight hesitation marred Mac’s question, and Tanner smiled. Apparently Mac worried Tanner was going to become clingy or talk about what they’d done the night before. He didn’t have to worry, because Tanner wasn’t going to say anything. Starting any kind of relationship in the middle of a case was difficult enough, but when one of the investigating officers was related to one of the victims, the difficulty level went even higher.

  “Good. Do you have the original photos of all the crime scenes on your computer?”

  Mac grunted, and Tanner heard typing in the background. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Can you e-mail them to me? I need to enlarge some of them.”

  “Sure. Do you have something?” Mac sounded cautiously optimistic.

  No cop worth his weight in experience would get excited about any clue, except the one leading to the capture of the killer.

  Tanner shrugged, even though he knew Mac couldn’t see him. “Maybe. There’s a symbol or something entwined in the swirls the bastard carves into their left breast. I can’t make it out with the pictures I have. I thought I’d enlarge them and see if that helps.”

  “You doing it yourself?” Mac asked.

  Tanner sat at his desk and brought up his e-mail. “Yeah. I learned how to do all that stuff when I realized usually the techs don’t work at three in the morning when I get a good idea and need to see something. It’s not that hard.”

  “Probably wouldn’t be for someone who can use a computer without breaking it,” the Texas Ranger mumbled.

  “Not very computer literate, huh?” Tanner typed quickly.

  Mac chuckled. “I do all right. As long as I can e-mail and type up my reports, I’m happy.”

  “Yeah, most people don’t need much more than that.”

  A new message appeared from Mac, and Tanner opened it to start downloading the file.

  “Thanks. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”

  “We’re retracing the days before each victim disappeared. I’m trying to see what connects them, because there has to be some reason why he chose those particular women.”

  Tanner snorted softly. “They always have a reason for picking them. Doesn’t mean we’ll ever know what it is.”

  “That’s the frustrating thing.”

  “We’ll just have to ask when we catch him.” Tanner’s computer dinged when the file was done. He opened it to make sure everything worked. “Thanks for sending the pictures, Mac. I’m going to start working on them. I’ll call you if I
get anything. Oh, did you talk to Billingsley?”

  “Yeah. He wasn’t happy, but he told me he wanted his best detective on the case, so he agreed to let me stay on.” Mac paused for a few seconds before continuing. “Do you want to get together tonight and talk over what we’ve done for the day?”

  Tanner’s body tensed as he imagined what they could end up talking about, but he didn’t assume Mac would want more sex. He wasn’t going to make a big deal of it one way or another. They had a case to work, and getting involved wasn’t proper procedure. Yet he planned on pursuing the Texas Ranger once the case was solved.

  “Sure. You want to call me when you’re ready for dinner? I’ll be working on this case as much as possible all day, though I do have a couple of others to go over as well. I’ll meet you wherever you want to go.” Tanner stood and wandered over to the board, staring at the pictures. “But we should probably call a meeting of the task force so I can tell them what I figured out so far. You can compare my preliminary findings with what your profilers did.”

  “You still haven’t read their report?”

  “No. I don’t want to prejudice my thoughts. You and Billingsley wanted a second set of eyes looking at this. That’s what I’m giving you without being compromised by any other opinion. Once my report is done, we’ll go through both profiles and combine them to ensure we don’t miss something important by either of us.” Tanner tapped his fingers on his thigh.

  “Okay. I’ll call when I’ve got the meeting set up. We’re still on for dinner, though.” Mac hung up.

  Tanner hung up and settled back at his desk, opening the software to enlarge the particular part of the pictures interesting him. He printed multiple copies of them and taped one print to each collection of photographs on the board. The other set he carried to a chair he placed next to the window in his office. He’d grabbed a magnifying glass out of his desk as he went by.

  Why did the carving intrigue him so much? All his instincts told him it held the secret to the killer’s identity. Yet he could already tell something about the man from the photographs. He’d written down some of his thoughts and would type a preliminary report for Sam and Captain Billingsley, including everything he’d told Mac the night before.

  What was the Knife’s most important ritual? The one thing he had to do to get any satisfaction from killing? Tanner scrubbed his chin and squinted out the window.

  Damn! He was going to have to go through all the evidence collected at the scenes. He hated touching items connected to such violent murders. At times, it felt like the pain and horror of the victims rubbed off on him. After especially horrific cases, he would take a vacation to the islands or even up into the Rockies, trying to erase from his psyche all the hatred and insanity.

  He understood he wouldn’t be able to profile much longer. He didn’t have the right mind-set to do it for the rest of his life. Too much violence and death marked a man deep inside, even when he was only responsible for cleaning up the aftermath. He was starting to wish he worked somewhere preventing the violence or trying to stop it before it got as far as someone dying.

  His desk phone rang, and he went to answer it. “Wallace.”

  “Our meeting is in an hour at your office. You want me to bring anything?”

  “No. I’ll be ready.” He smiled at Mac’s brisk question. “See you in an hour.”

  “See you then.”

  Mac hung up, and Tanner shook his head. The man didn’t seem big on conversation, and it didn’t upset Tanner. He’d learned long ago to deal with silence because it was just him and his mom while he was growing up. His mom also never encouraged him to have many friends. He understood her reasoning, but he’d been lonely as a child until he learned why they had to keep to themselves.

  Tanner never once questioned his mother’s choices for their lives. He hardly missed his father once the man was out of the picture. Of course Tanner’s dad had never had much to do with him. He’d been too busy with his business, so Tanner always hung out with his mother, and when they moved to the States, he’d accepted his new home.

  After opening the top left drawer of his desk, he pulled out a framed picture. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, staring at the photo. It had been taken when he graduated from college. His mother had been so proud of him, and he’d been excited. As far as Tanner knew, he was the first of his family to graduate from high school, much less college. Once he got a job with the FBI, he’d been able to help his mother out with bills. She only stopped working when she was diagnosed with cancer.

  He took after her in his lean build and dark eyes. Until she got sick, she’d looked more like his older sister than his mother, and she always joked about that with him. The months before she died were some of the most difficult he’d gone through, because he was alone with his grief. She wouldn’t let him dwell on it. She kept him laughing, though she did admit she regretted not being able to see him settled down and in love.

  Coming out to his mother turned out to be easier than he’d expected. She had cried when he told her, and he thought it was because he disappointed her. She’d held his face and smiled up at him, explaining in her heavily accented English he could never disappoint her. She cried because it would be a tough journey he’d undertaken, and since she believed God didn’t make mistakes, she knew he didn’t have a choice.

  One of the things she’d hated most about dying was not seeing any grandchildren, even though he explained he wouldn’t have any. She pointed out many gay couples adopted, and they’d argue about the possibility while she had her chemo.

  He rubbed his thumb over the glass and murmured, “I miss you, Mama.”

  A knock on his door caused him to return the picture to the drawer before he called out, “Come in.”

  MacLaughlin peered around the door frame. “The rangers will be here in a few. I wanted to check and make sure you were ready for this.”

  “Yeah. I’ll have a preliminary report ready for everyone. Got some ideas that might be helpful, and I’m checking a few other things out as well. I’m going to have to go over to the rangers’ headquarters and look through all the actual evidence from the different crime scenes.” Tanner stood and strolled over to the board. He tapped the picture of the first victim. “I think we’re missing something.”

  “Well, don’t tell me. Wait until we’re all in the same room before you go into your spiel.” MacLaughlin shook his head. “I read the rangers’ profile, and even if they’re only half right, this is one sick fuck.”

  “They’re all sick fucks, boss.” Tanner scrubbed his hand over his hair.

  “True. How long have you been doing this, Wallace? Six or seven years?”

  “Seven.”

  Probably six years too many. His head pounding, he wandered back to his desk and dug out a bottle of aspirin. Shaking out four pills, he dry swallowed them with a grimace.

  “You would think you’d get used to this after a while, but I’ve been in the bureau for almost twenty years, and I still haven’t gotten used to the horrible shit humans do to each other.” MacLaughlin frowned. “Of course I don’t get too in-depth in the cases anymore, not like you.”

  Tanner wished he didn’t have to study photos like the ones in front of him, but he did, and those mutilated bodies haunted his dreams at night. When he first started in the Behavioral Science Unit, he’d drink himself to sleep every night, trying to drown out the blood and gore. All that got him was a pounding headache the next morning and an ulcer. Finally he simply learned to compartmentalize every aspect of his life. He did his best to leave his work at the office, but it didn’t always happen. Something told him the victims of this latest killer would be one of those cases.

  “I’ll let you get back to the case. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes. We’ll just meet in here since you have the board set up.” MacLaughlin waved a hand to the pictures.

  “I’ll be ready.”

  After his boss left, Tanner went through the bull pen, nodding to
some of his fellow agents as he headed toward the break room. While he waited for his water to heat, he grabbed a napkin and tried to draw the carvings. He took his tea and the drawings back into his office. He sat at his desk and closed his eyes, continuing to draw them as he could remember them.

  * * * *

  “How do you like working with the fag?” Sorensterm strolled up to Mac’s desk and plopped his ass on the edge where Mac gathered his files for the meeting.

  Mac glared at him. “I don’t like that word or the tone of your voice. I don’t care who Agent Wallace sleeps with as long as he does his job. His personal life is none of your business, Sorensterm.”

  “Why? Are you and the Fed best friends now? Or are you a cocksucker yourself?” Sorensterm leaned closer to him. “Do you take it up the ass, Guzman?”

  Anger surged through Mac, causing him to reach out and grab the man’s shirt. He twisted his fist in the fabric and jerked Sorensterm closer.

  “Don’t ever say those words in my presence again, Sorensterm,” Mac snarled as he shook the other man. “You do realize, if I was gay, what you’re doing would be harassment, and I could get you fired for it.”

  Sorensterm’s eyes widened, but his grin stayed snarky. “What if your fellow rangers found out you were gay? Might be something to consider, jackass. Bet they’d be disgusted like I am at the thought of homos. They might not be eager to help out a queer.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Eye for an eye, detective.” Sorensterm smirked. “What if the captain finds out your connection to the latest victim? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know what I do.”

  Mac shoved Sorensterm away and shook his head. “You can’t blackmail me with that. I told Billingsley this morning, and he’s keeping me on the case.”

  Disappointment crossed Sorensterm’s face. Mac resisted the urge to do a small victory dance. He had scored one for his side.