by Chase, T. A.
Tanner’s phone rang, and Mac waited while Tanner answered it. He saw Tanner stiffen as whoever was on the other end spoke.
“It was just a letter. I’m fine, and there isn’t any danger. He’s not coming after me.” Tanner paused for a second, listening before continuing. “I can’t talk right now.”
He hung up and dropped his phone in his pocket.
“Who was that?”
“Just a friend. No one to concern yourself with.” Tanner winked. “I think it’s cute you’re jealous, though.”
“I’m not jealous,” Mac protested as he headed toward the door.
“Right.”
Tanner snagged Mac’s arm as he walked past him. Swinging toward Tanner, Mac opened his mouth to say something, but Tanner covered his mouth with his own. Mac stiffened, aware that on the other side of the door were all his fellow rangers. Before he could push Tanner away, Tanner let him go and stood.
“Let’s go. You want to meet at my place for dinner tonight? We’ll regroup and see what we’ve got.” Tanner glanced back at him as he walked toward the door. “And quit freaking out. I wouldn’t have done that if we weren’t alone. I’m not interested in ‘outing’ you if none of your fellow rangers know you’re gay.”
“It’s not really that,” Mac mumbled. “I just don’t like public displays of affection. Not used to them either. We need to talk.”
“You should get used to them, especially if we go out to the clubs.” Tanner winked at him before opening the door and walking out.
Mac winced slightly but followed the other man. He lifted his gaze from Tanner’s jean-covered ass when they joined the other rangers out in the main room. Sorensterm stood next to Mac’s desk. Tension tightened his shoulders as he walked over to the man.
“How’d the talk with the captain go?”
Something in the man’s tone alerted Mac. He shot a look at Tanner, but his lover kept his gaze on Sorensterm.
“It was fine. He liked the fact we might have a connection between the victims.” He could be civil when he wanted to be.
“Captain wasn’t pissed about anything?”
Realization hit, and Mac lunged for the man. “You were the one who told Billingsley.”
Tanner grabbed his arm, pulling him away. “Not here, Mac. Too many eyes.”
Sorensterm chuckled. “I thought the boss would like to know the lead investigator on the case might be compromised. Of course I figured he’d pull you.”
“Are you jealous? Is that what this is all about?” Mac shook his head. “You’re willing to destroy my career and fuck up this case because you’re jealous of me?”
“Of course not. Why would I be jealous of a queer?” Sorensterm shrugged. “We stuck working together today?”
Mac wanted to punch the smirk off Sorensterm’s face, but he wouldn’t allow the man to get to him. He would do his job and solve the case. It was the only thing that mattered at the moment.
“Yeah. We’re going to check out some gyms.” Mac picked up a copy of the list and handed it to the other ranger. “I thought we could go and question the people there. See if they noticed anything weird or if they even remember the women.”
“Good idea.” Sorensterm glared at Tanner. “What’s your boyfriend doing here?”
Tanner rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. Mac snorted silently, glad Tanner could keep his temper.
“He’s going through all the physical evidence from the crime scenes. Never know what he might find.”
“Do you really think you’re going to find something we haven’t?” Sorensterm rested his fists on his hips and stared Tanner down. “Are fags better investigators than straight people?”
Mac bit his lip. Tanner could take care of himself, and it wouldn’t look good if Mac stood up for him. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out his gun and holster.
“I might find something you didn’t think was important. As a cop, you’re looking for clues to identify the killer. As a profiler, I’m looking for anything to help me get inside his head. Even the most insignificant item could help me give you a better profile to work from.” Tanner shrugged. “I’m not saying you aren’t doing your job, Sorensterm. I’m simply saying I’m looking for different things than you are.”
“I’m willing to use any option at our disposal to catch this bastard. If he wants to waste his time looking through evidence we already looked through, then good for him.” Mac clipped his gun to his belt and grabbed his hat from the hook on the wall. “Let’s head out. It’s going to be a long day.”
“Good luck. I’ll get someone to take me to the evidence locker. I’ll talk to you later, Detective Guzman.” Tanner nodded to both of them as he walked away.
Mac watched the agent for a few seconds before giving himself a mental shake and gestured to Sorensterm. “You can drive.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to Tim’s Gym to start with.” He gave Sorensterm the address. “We still don’t know why he chooses the ones he does, but it’s a place to start.”
Sorensterm grunted but didn’t say anything else about the case.
Mac looked through the pictures of the victims. “Do you think this perp’s mistake is going to be he picked two girls from the same gym?”
“Stranger things have caught serial killers.” Sorensterm shot a look over at Mac. “Do you really think your fuck buddy is going to give us better information than our own profiler?”
Mac shrugged. “Stop calling him names. It’s not professional, even if it’s in private. You’re going to push me too far one day, Sorensterm, and I’ll show just what I can do. Wallace isn’t interested in getting any glory for himself. He’s quite happy working in the background.”
He glared at the other man, anger swelling in him. “We need the help, and your personal beliefs aren’t important. Hell, I’m not going to kick off the case just because you’re a bigoted asshole, Sorensterm. I’d work with Satan himself to catch the killer.”
Sorensterm curled his lip but wisely kept his mouth shut.
* * * *
Everything was set. He’d cleaned and set up the room for his newest guest. It was time to get her and bring her to his place. It would be easy since she’d never once noticed him following her. Stupid bitch. Didn’t she understand there were dangerous people out there just waiting to take advantage of her unobservant nature?
He resisted the urge to rub his hands together in glee. The need to feel the shock of his blade cutting through flesh and the warmth of blood coating his hands built until he could barely contain the pressure. The voice in his mind telling him to do it had grown louder until there wasn’t anything else left except the want for someone dying by his own hand.
Damn his former boss for firing him. If the fucker hadn’t given him his walking papers, he’d be able to have another outlet for this need. Oh, he’d thought about going after the man, but there wasn’t any way he’d be able to get close enough to kill the way he needed. His old boss surrounded himself with men willing to die for him.
A knife let him get up close and personal with his victims. He loved seeing the fear in their eyes when they realized he wasn’t going to just rape them and let them go. The shock as he sliced them for the first time, and the dull resignation in their face when they understood they were going to die, hanging like a piece of meat in the kill room.
Oh, but his last victim had fought long and hard, and he actually thought he would have to break his habit of no more than forty cuts. He disliked going over the allotted cuts. It ruined everything for him, but he’d managed to bleed her out before he had to start a new ritual.
It had taken him years to perfect the one he had now. He didn’t want to start over and figure out what actions would keep the voice silent in his head. Searching for ways to satisfy the lust for blood and pain had been difficult to begin with as he fought against the morals and ethics his father had taught, yet the hate and need in his soul drove him to take th
e only way out he could. After the first time he’d killed, he found the release from the almost unbearable pressure euphoric, and he became addicted to the violence.
The key jingled in the lock, and he adjusted his gloves. It was time, and his heartbeat settled along with his nerves. He’d done this more times than he could count, perfecting his ritual along the way until in the moment of death, he’d achieved pure perfection with his victim. He froze when he heard her talking.
Had she brought someone home with her? He’d picked the day because it was in the middle of the week, and she never brought people home with her during the week. She was dedicated to her work, and he admired the trait in her because he was the same way.
He waited to hear a responding voice, but there wasn’t. She must have been on her phone. He pushed the door to the pantry open a little, risking her seeing him to double-check. She stood at the counter, her back toward him, her hands waving as she talked. His upper lip curled in disgust. Again she was oblivious to his presence. No sense of self-preservation or even an instinct something wasn’t right in her house.
He couldn’t take her while she was on the phone. No one could know she was gone until after he had her in the room. Once there it wouldn’t matter if someone reported her missing. No one would find her until he was done with her. Then he’d display her like the others and read about the police chasing their tails as they tried to find the Knife.
Snorting silently, he couldn’t believe the media had given him such a pathetic nickname. No imagination these days. In the golden era of newspapers, he would have gotten a much scarier moniker, but he couldn’t argue with them about it. It wasn’t like he would be writing the papers and complaining about what they called him. No, it was better to let them all stumble over each other while he laughed in the shadows. But he would send another note to the FBI guy. It’d been fun to tease him about the killings, yet there hadn’t been any mention of the letter in the news articles.
She finished her phone call and tossed the phone on the counter as she started stripping out of her work clothes. He’d stood in the pantry on other nights, getting a handle on her nightly routine so he could make his plans. He waited until he heard the shower come on upstairs, then he slid from the pantry and patted his pocket for the syringe.
Shoot her up with a tranquilizer before carrying her out the back door wrapped in a sheet. A tall privacy fence surrounded her backyard, and it would be dark before he removed her from the house. Her neighbors weren’t the nosy kind; plus none of them had dogs. He always had to worry about dogs, because for some reason, they sensed the monster inside him and reacted angrily to it.
She wouldn’t wake up until he had her confined and the game was ready to begin. He hoped she would be fun and fight, but not all of them had the heart of his last victim. Some of them gave up too easily, and the creature living inside him would be very disappointed. To appease it, he had to butcher the body.
Although the newspapers reported he’d killed five women so far, his count was higher. The ones they had found were the ones where everything had gone perfect, where all the rituals were completed to the monster’s specifications. There were at least four other bodies he’d destroyed because something happened and the monster demanded their entire annihilation. He made sure the police would never find those.
They were an embarrassment and a failure of his goal to be the best at what he did. He never wanted to see those victims again, and if he was ever caught, he would never mention them either. They deserved to be forgotten.
He crept up the stairs, calm and collected, ready for the ritual to begin again.
* * * *
Tanner opened the door when Mac knocked. Smiling, the agent reached out and grabbed the front of Mac’s shirt, yanking him into the house. Before Mac could say anything, Tanner locked their lips together. Mac didn’t protest. He simply encircled Tanner’s waist with his arms and held him tight, taking the kiss deep and hot in seconds.
When his lungs burned and his brain begged for oxygen, he eased back, chest heaving. “Well, that was quite a greeting. I’m tempted to go back outside and see if you’ll say hello like that again.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have worry about that. I’m willing to kiss you like that whenever you wish.” Tanner winked and broke away from him. “Come on. I have dinner ready.”
Mac hung his jacket and hat on the rack beside the front door. He unclipped his gun and held it up. “Do you have someplace I can put this?”
Tanner looked over his shoulder. “Just leave it on the table in the hall or you can leave it in the living room. There aren’t any kids around to play with it, so you’ll be fine.”
“Where do you keep yours?”
“I have one in the nightstand by my bed and my issued handgun is in a gun safe in the hall closet.” Tanner waved a hand toward the door of his bedroom. “You can put yours in the nightstand with my other one.”
“Thanks.” Mac didn’t like just leaving his gun lying out, even without children around.
He slid the gun in the drawer and returned to the kitchen, where Tanner dished out spaghetti. Mac breathed deeply, his nose filling with the spicy scents of tomato and garlic. “Did you make the sauce yourself?”
Tanner laughed. “Oh no. The one time I tried, I burned it so badly I was traumatized. I’ve never tried it since. It’s much easier to get bottled sauce.”
“It still smells good, and I really wouldn’t have known the difference.” He settled at the kitchen table when Tanner set the plate in front of him.
“Beer, soda, or tea?” Tanner opened the refrigerator and asked.
“Beer.” He took a bite of the pasta and moaned. “Christ, I don’t care if it’s homemade or not; this is damn good.”
Tanner placed a bottle of beer beside Mac’s plate along with a tray of garlic cheese bread. After he took his place across from Mac, he dug in as well. They were quiet for a few minutes, taking the edge off their hunger. When the first couple of bites had eased the need, Mac met Tanner’s gaze.
“You find anything in the evidence?”
Tanner frowned. “I’m not sure. I didn’t get through all of it. Got called away for a consult on a different case. Once I’m done with every scene, I’ll be able to figure out if there’s anything there or if I’m just talking out of my ass.”
“If it’s any help, you have a very nice ass.” He laughed when Tanner blushed and tossed a piece of bread at him.
“Thank you, I guess.” Tanner propped his chin on his hand and twirled pasta around his fork. “I still think I’m missing something. I can’t figure out how he gets them out of wherever he grabs them without anyone seeing anything.”
“We thought he might drug them, but there’s never any drugs in their system and no needle marks where he might have pricked them.” Mac leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.
“You know, you might be right. There are so many cuts and wounds, how could you tell if there were any marks to indicate whether or not he drugged them. And if he did, maybe it wasn’t with a needle. He could have slipped something in their coffee or food. He keeps them long enough, the drug could have made its way out of their system by the time he dumps them.” Tanner pursed his lips. “It would explain why no one ever saw a struggle.”
Mac took a swig of beer and put the bottle on the table. “We’ll go with the idea that he drugs them somehow, but it still doesn’t tell us where he grabs them at. If it’s at their house, they would have to know him well enough to allow him in.”
“Or he could dress like a repair man or something like that.”
“We checked with all the neighbors. No one remembers seeing a repair guy or anyone like that around in the days before the women disappeared.” Mac finished his food and stood to carry the plate to the sink.
“See, that’s the thing. No one really pays attention to repair trucks or delivery people. No one would think twice of something like that in the neighborhood.”
“Speaking of which, that SUV’s back down the street again. I noticed it when I pulled into your driveway.”
Tension suddenly filled the room, and Mac looked up from where he stood, rinsing the plates before he put them in the dishwasher.
“Tanner?”
Chapter Eight
Fuck! Tanner didn’t know what to say. How did he get Mac to ignore the Suburban without letting on he knew exactly whom those people in the vehicle were watching? He’d spent a good chunk of the afternoon reassuring someone he was safe, which was hard to do when he couldn’t be seen with the person and said person had the ability to make him disappear if he thought Tanner was in danger.
“Damn, I meant to tell them to move because they were getting noticeable,” he muttered, hoping Mac would let it go.
“Tell who? Who are they? And what are they doing in your neighborhood?” Mac closed the dishwasher and turned it on. He wandered over to where Tanner stood. Mac slipped his arm around Tanner’s waist and nuzzled his jaw. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Tanner closed his eyes and nudged his panic down. He’d never thought this would be an issue, but he should have known once Mac started coming to his house more often, the man would notice anything out of the ordinary. Mac was a police officer, after all.
“They’re there to keep an eye on me,” he admitted.
Mac whirled him around and cupped his face in his hands. “Are you in danger?”
Tanner shook his head. “No. Well, I don’t know. To be honest, the first SUV you saw probably really was a neighbor’s. This one is out there because Sam is nervous about the letter I got from the serial killer, even though I told him the guy doesn’t want to kill me.”
He’d make sure they got pulled that night. Tanner should have known they wouldn’t listen to his request.
“You’re sure it’s nothing really serious? Where you should have protection 24-7?” Mac stared into Tanner’s eyes. “I like you, Tanner, and I’d hate for anything to happen to you, especially now with the killer sending you letters.”