by Chase, T. A.
“No, lilies are fine.” Finally the man invaded his personal space and reached to cradle his face. “You’ll come to me?”
Like he would ever be able to say no to this man? It had nothing to do with the power of life or death he had over him. Perez nodded, wanting to feel those thin lips against his but knowing he had to wait until everyone else was asleep. He wouldn’t risk his boss’s position by exposing their relationship.
“Good. I’ll see you later, then.” His lover dropped his hand and stalked over to his desk. “Keep guys on Tanner, but tell them to make sure he and his lover don’t notice them. I thought they were our best.”
“They were, sir, but I don’t think there’s much they can do to keep him from noticing them. He is an officer of the law.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “I’ll tell them to do a better job.”
“If they don’t, they’ll be dealing with me, and I know they would rather be talking to you.” His boss’s smile was evil, and Perez shivered.
“Of course, sir.”
Perez left the study and shut the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his nerves. He hated how his boss affected him and the two polar-opposite personalities residing in the man. Yet he understood why it all had to be that way. Hopefully the day would come when his boss could just be a man, not the monster everyone believed him to be.
Straightening his shoulders, Perez went off to find the men who’d been watching Tanner. At least this time they would be given a second chance. If they failed and Tanner called them off again, he doubted the boss would be as forgiving.
Chapter Nine
She jerked awake, her eyes rolling in her head. He stood in the shadows, watching and studying her. He rubbed his nose where she’d clipped him when he approached her while she was in the shower. Luckily there wasn’t any blood, and she hadn’t fought for long after he injected her. He’d carted her out of the house through the back door and tossed her in the back of his truck.
The woman tugged on the chains holding her off the floor. He liked it when she struggled and screamed, begging for help, but like space, there was no one around to hear her scream. He had picked his kill room because the warehouse had been abandoned. He’d staked out the area, making sure no one ever used the building.
No one did, and it became his next base of operations. He never used the same place twice. It was too easy to grow lazy and believe no one would notice his activities. The more he came and went from the building, the more likely it was a homeless person would spy him and get curious. He couldn’t risk that happening.
She yanked and kicked, though chains around her ankles and wrists wouldn’t allow her much movement.
“Where are you, you son of a bitch? I know you’re around here somewhere.”
He rolled his eyes at her shouts. Taunting him wouldn’t drive him to move before he was ready. He shifted, and the rustling of his clothes alerted her to where he stood.
“Why won’t you let me see you? Are you the one who killed those other women?” She turned her gaze on him the best she could. “Do you want me to scream and plead for you not to hurt me? Do you get off on my fear?”
Snorting silently, he shook his head. Did they all believe the killing was sexual in nature? He’d never touched one of them in that way. He shuddered at the thought of having any carnal knowledge of the women he killed. God made whores for that. He wanted nothing to do with women who believed they were smarter than him, as she proved while she ranted at him.
He leaned against the rough brick wall while she called him names and tried to psychoanalyze him. When she ran out of energy and her voice grew hoarse, he reached down and pulled his knife from its sheath. Stepping out of the shadows, he stalked toward her, letting the low light of the candles reflect on the surface of the blade.
“You think you know me because you read the newspaper. You think you’re better than me because you have a job and a college education. All your classes teach you how to react when a man cuts you? Do you know how to free yourself when you’re chained to a wall at his mercy?” He sneered at her.
“Stupid puta!” He spit at her feet. “I followed you for days, and you never once noticed me. I stole your keys, and you never even figured it out, thought you lost them somewhere. You were so happy when you realized you left them at home one day.”
Her eyes widened as he regaled her with her routine throughout the day. The fear she’d hidden earlier behind her brave words slowly blossomed in her face, and he grinned, striking quickly like a snake. The first thin line of blood trickled down her face from where he’d cut her cheek.
“By the time I am finished with you, you’ll be excited for death. You will welcome it with open arms as your blood pools at your feet. With each cut, you will understand that I am the one in power, not you. I am the one who is smarter, and I’m the one who gets to say whether you live or die.” He shrugged and wiggled the knife. “Of course, we both know you’ll die. I can’t leave you alive now that you’ve seen my face.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his earphones. Usually he liked to listen as they pleaded with him for their lives, but not this one. He hated her nasal voice and the way everything came out as an order. He would listen to his favorite music while he bled her dry.
* * * *
Their phones rang at the same time, and both Mac and Tanner sat up in bed, reaching for them. Tanner rolled out of bed and grabbed his work phone first, heading straight to the closet while he answered.
“Wallace.”
Mac checked the ID and answered, “Where’s the body, Sorensterm?”
“I’ll text you the address. It’s still fresh. He didn’t wait for the usual twelve hours before he dumped this one.”
He found his underwear and managed to get them on while still listening to Sorensterm. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Bring your fuck buddy. He might get something from this scene since it’s new. If you haven’t used him too hard last night.”
“Shut the fuck up, Sorensterm.”
After ending the call, he snatched his shirt off the floor and frowned at the wrinkles in it.
“Here, wear one of my suits. We’re the same size, and no one will know.” Tanner held out a charcoal grey suit. “Besides, it’ll match your hat.”
Mac took it and grimaced at Tanner. “We don’t have time to worry about whether my hat matches my clothes.”
“No, we don’t,” Tanner agreed.
They got dressed without getting in each other’s way. Mac gathered the files and his laptop before stuffing them into his briefcase. With his gun settled in its familiar spot on his hip, and his badge clipped to his belt, Mac raced out of Tanner’s house. Tanner locked the door and followed him down the front walk.
“I’ll meet you there.” Tanner waved at him before getting in his car.
Mac nodded and climbed into his. A brief thought crossed his mind about what Sorensterm might say with the two of them showing up at the scene at the same time. He didn’t have time to worry about it. Some of the damage would be minimized by them showing up in separate vehicles. At the moment, all he cared about was finding the bastard who was killing women in Houston.
He punched in the address Sorensterm texted him into his GPS and took off. Tanner pulled out right behind him, but Mac lost him in the early morning traffic. Twenty minutes later, he parked his car in front of another abandoned warehouse. Police cars were angled to block off the street while uniformed officers put up crime scene tape and kept the gawkers from seeing anything.
As he approached the opened door, he heard another car arrive. Sorensterm stepped out of the warehouse, and they watched Tanner climb out of his vehicle. The agent reached in and pulled out a carrier holding two large coffees from the local fast-food place.
“Sorry. I stopped for coffee. Figured you didn’t have a chance to drink some before this.” Tanner held out the cups for Mac and Sorensterm to take.
Sorensterm met Tanner’s
gaze. “You can drink coffee, knowing what you’re going to walk into here?”
“Actually I have tea. I don’t drink coffee anymore. What are we walking into? This isn’t the kill site, is it? It’s just the dump site.” Tanner took a sip of his tea.
“Yes, but still it’s not a pretty sight.” Sorensterm eyed him with a thinly veiled look of disgust. “Figured you queers would have a weak stomach, being limp-wristed and all that shit. Why am I not surprised you don’t drink coffee? Too manly for you.”
Mac growled. “Remember what I said yesterday. You’re going to push too far one day.”
Sorensterm looked at Mac with a raised eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Mac gestured to the building.
“When are any murder scenes a pretty sight? This isn’t the first crime scene Agent Wallace has seen, Sorensterm. Don’t harass him. Who called it in?” Mac tried to stay on topic.
“Don’t know. An anonymous call came in to dispatch. Probably the killer following his usual MO. Thank God, they found her shortly after he dumped her, or this would be really bad.” Sorensterm led the way into the warehouse.
Mac gritted his teeth and silently agreed with the man. He’d been sent to murders where the victim hadn’t been found for days. The stench and appearance, at times, were enough to even make him sick. Yet having a fresh site could be good for them because they might be able to get some clues that could have disappeared over time.
There were several uniformed police milling around while the crime scene techs got ready to go in.
“No one’s been in except the person who found her and the uniform who responded to the call. When he got here, he looked in, saw her, and backed out. He called us right away.” Sorensterm nodded toward one of the younger cops.
“Make sure someone talks to him about what he saw. Never know when it might be important.” Mac grabbed a pair of gloves and bootees from the techs and slipped them on. He set his coffee down before he entered the room. Stopping just outside the scene, he took a deep breath.
A gentle and quick touch to his back told him Tanner stood close to him. Mac never thought he’d care whether the guy he fucked understood what he dealt with every day. Yet knowing Tanner not only understood but dealt with the same shit in his job as Mac did brought a surge of emotion he’d never really felt before. Maybe it was contentment or an odd sort of happiness. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about it.
They stepped inside the room, and Mac narrowed his eyes. Something was different about this killing.
“He didn’t finish the ritual,” Tanner murmured as they stood inside the door.
Mac nodded, stepping to where the body sprawled in a haphazard pentagram shape, except her legs weren’t spread toward the corners. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, swallowing the anger until it burned in the pit of his stomach.
“Yet he had time to carve the design into her chest.” Tanner pointed toward the woman’s left breast.
Mac turned in a slow circle, his eyes searching every nook and cranny of the room. Aside from not finishing the star, there was something else different about the scene. He spied a pile of debris in the corner. He walked over and crouched down beside it. It looked like a blanket.
“Tanner. Sorensterm. Come here.” He called over his shoulder to the other two.
They joined him and stared down at the fabric.
“Does that look like a blanket?”
“Yes.” Tanner turned and gestured to one of the techs. “Come and take a picture of this before we touch it.”
“Yes, sir.” The tech scurried over to where they gathered. She snapped pictures and wrote down all the information they had from just looking at it. She labeled an evidence bag before handing it to Tanner. “Here you go, Agent.”
“Thank you.” He waved her away and met Mac’s gaze. “It’s your case, Detective. Go ahead.”
Mac rolled his eyes, but pulling his pen out of his pocket, he poked the blanket. Nothing moved, and he took a deep breath before pinching the edge between his fingers. He tugged it, slowly unfolding it from where it had been thrown.
“Do you think it was used to transport the body, or is it some squatter’s?” Sorensterm wrinkled his nose at the smell. “It certainly smells like a homeless person’s been using it.”
Breathing through his mouth, Mac spread it out, and they looked at it. While he stood, Tanner crouched down and pointed to several stains on the fabric.
“Those look like bloodstains and not urine marks. This fabric is high quality, and it’s not torn anywhere. This didn’t come from a shelter or a thrift store. If you check, I’m sure you’ll find it available at some of the higher-end department stores.” Tanner coughed slightly. “It probably came with her.”
“Is it our killer’s?” Mac made a note about sending someone to check on what Tanner said.
Tanner pushed to his feet and frowned. “No. He isn’t going to be buying nice things at expensive stores, especially if he’s going to wrap a body in it. I think if you check the victim’s house, you’ll find a matching sheet set or something.”
“He took her from her home? Is that what you’re saying?” Excitement surged through Mac.
Tanner shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets. “It’s possible. I’m not saying it’s for sure or anything. You’ll be able to confirm it when you figure out who she is and send people around to her place. We discussed the possibility of him doing that.”
Mac clenched his jaw but didn’t give in to the urge to shake Tanner hard. The agent wouldn’t commit to anything unless he was absolutely sure of what he said. Of course, a lot of what Tanner did came from instinct, though he had experience with other serial killers to base his theories on.
“Do you think he took all of them from their homes?”
Tanner hunched slightly, his eyes focused on the floor around the body. “Everything in my gut says he takes them from their homes. I would bet money on the fact that he drugs them somehow and removes them. I didn’t get to check where all the victims live, but I’m guessing they live in places where their neighbors don’t really pay much attention to what goes on around the neighborhood. Some of them might have privacy fences or something to make it easy for him to get them out without anyone noticing anything odd.”
Mac thought about the houses he’d checked and remembered only two of them with fenced backyards. Didn’t mean Tanner was wrong or anything. Mac’s gaze landed on Tanner when the agent stiffened. They’d moved closer to the body while the techs gathered evidence from around the edges of the room.
“What?” He tapped his pen against Tanner’s bicep. “Do you see something?”
“She died too quickly.” Tanner pointed to the slices covering her body. “There aren’t enough slices here for him to have fulfilled his need. Her throat wound isn’t deep enough to be the killing blow. She was dead before he even thought about cutting her throat.”
Sorensterm shifted while Mac jotted down what Tanner had said, making a note to double-check with the ME.
“What could have caused that? Wouldn’t he have noticed she was losing a lot more blood than they normally do?” Sorensterm sounded annoyed about asking the question, probably because he didn’t want to talk to Tanner.
Tanner shot Sorensterm a puzzled look. “He’s not a doctor. His ritual ensures they’re usually unconscious by the thirtieth cut. He really wouldn’t notice if they were bleeding too much or too fast. Caught up in the ritual of cutting them and the blood already coating him, he would never catch on to the fact that she was bleeding too much until it was too late.”
“What does that mean?” Mac was afraid he knew what Tanner was going to say.
“He’s going to grab a new victim within the next two days or so and try to make sure his ritual is done right this time.”
“Fuck!” Sorensterm growled. “He’s escalating that fast?”
“Yes, but the issue is his need for killing wasn’t completely fed with this murder.” Tanner waved a hand
to encompass the entire room. “Something about this woman ruined it for him. He’s already picked out his next victim and probably planned how he’s going to take her as well. There’s no such thing as spontaneity with this man. He plotted which women he’d take before he even killed the first one.”
Mac stood beside the woman and stared at the floor. He couldn’t look into her empty eyes, knowing he’d let her down by not finding the bastard who killed her before she got taken. More guilt piled upon the mound he already had concerning Marissa. Something glittered when one of the camera flashes went off.
After pulling out his penlight, he dropped to a knee and turned it on, directing the beam toward the item on the floor. A key glistened in the light, and Mac’s pulse sped up.
“I’ve got something here,” he called to one of the techs.
“What did you find?” Tanner and Sorensterm joined him.
“I got a key. It’s clean and looks new, so I’m thinking it wasn’t here when he dumped the body.” He moved out of the way so the tech could take a picture of the item before he picked it up and slid it in an evidence bag.
“Try her door with it,” Tanner suggested.
“Why would he have her keys on him?” Mac rocked back and looked up at Tanner.
Tanner shook his head and wandered out of the room, his head lowered and a thoughtful expression on his face. Sorensterm looked at Mac with a questioning expression.
“Where’s the fag going?”
Mac bit his tongue and shrugged. “Don’t know. I’m sure he won’t be far if we need to talk to him.”
Tanner poked his head back in and caught the attention of the head tech. “I need close-up photos of that carving in the victim’s chest. I need it from every angle, especially an above shot.”
“Yes, Agent Wallace,” the man said.
“Thank you. Once you get back to your office, make sure you send those particular pictures to me right away.” Tanner glanced over at Mac. “I’m going to head back to my office. We’ll meet up later this afternoon and compile all the information we have.”