by Rachel Lee
“Now we have to figure out how to use this,” she said. “How to get proactive and draw him out, because there sure isn’t enough here to point us to him.”
“Well, that’s always the problem, isn’t it? Understanding what he’s doing isn’t necessarily a way to get to him. Assuming I’m even right.”
She looked at him from gritty eyes, the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with her. “I think you’re right. Unfortunately we can’t bank on it.”
“No. But we certainly need to think it through to see if we can wring any ideas out of it.”
She nodded, then reached for more toast. Anger was beginning to build in her, and it was driving her appetite. She couldn’t afford to let her feelings get in the way of clear thinking, but she could indulge for a little while.
Being in the army had exposed her to some of the very best in human nature, people willing to give and risk everything for an ideal. But her job in the army had unfortunately given her too much exposure to the dregs, people who polluted the uniform simply by wearing it.
She was no wide-eyed naïf—she’d seen plenty of violence—but this guy was so low she had discovered she could still be shocked. He shocked her. Horrified her. Sickened her in ways she’d never felt before.
The mere fact that he was still drawing breath infuriated her. Out there somewhere, sitting in his hideous web, probably already planning his next abduction. Maybe already making the contact with some boy.
Seldom had she felt the urge to commit cold-blooded violence with her own hands, but she did right then.
That shocked her, too. She knew she wasn’t that kind of person. She could do plenty with provocation. Her history was littered with it. Being an MP wasn’t always a nonviolent job. But never without direct provocation, and only to the extent necessary to bring a situation under control.
This was different.
“DeeJay?”
Cade’s voice seemed faraway. She shook herself and answered, “I’m having some unholy thoughts.”
“So am I.”
She met his gaze at last and saw a cold anger there for the first time. Apparently, his calm explanation of his theory had belied his feelings about it. Bad enough to think of these youths being kidnapped and killed. Worse to plumb the insanity and depravity behind it.
The phone rang, jarring DeeJay so much that she almost jumped. Her mind had been far away from the mundane, looking into one of the pits of hell.
Cade twisted and grabbed the receiver. A moment later, she heard him say, “Lew. Good to hear from you. How’d it go?”
She glanced at the clock, registering Cade’s noncommittal responses. Shortly after six here, but eight in the morning at Quantico. Lew must have just hit his desk and found something. She waited impatiently, but Cade’s end of the conversation revealed nothing. When he grabbed for a nearby pad and began scribbling things down, she knew only that Lew’s digging had yielded some kind of treasure.
Get a grip, she told herself. Stop thinking about what those boys must have endured and think about how good it would feel to catch their murderer. About how much they still had to do, how they needed to turn slender threads of information into ropes they could use against this guy. About how important it was not to waste any precious minutes. Some kid could already be in the killer’s sights.
At long last, Cade hung up the phone.
“Well?” she demanded.
“We’ll have to thank our sheriff. He apparently put all the information from five years ago into the national database, so Lew even had photos to work with. I can tell you for sure our guy hasn’t been in prison for the last five years.”
She closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “So there have been other victims.”
“Minneapolis, Chicago, Houston and Boston.”
“Timing?”
“Closer together there than here. Bigger cities so I guess he felt he had more cover. Lew’s emailing everything he has, so whenever we get the wireless backup, we can take a look at all the fine details.”
“But he’s sure?”
“MO is the same. Victims the same age and description. Only two possibles that don’t exactly fit.”
Her eyes snapped open. Her heart began to thunder. “Tell me.”
Cade looked down at his pad, then straight at her. “Two were women. Died the same way. Fit the general description, but not exactly.”
“God,” she whispered. “You know...”
Cade nodded. “You’re probably thinking exactly what Lew suggested. Our guy could be going for boys who remind him of himself at that age. But the women...”
She drew a deep breath. “The women could have been stand-ins for his mother. There’d be a resemblance.”
“That’s Lew’s thinking exactly. This guy has a grudge against mama.”
Her mind began spinning at top speed. She rose from the table and began pacing. “It’s fitting,” she said finally. “It’s coming together. Mother mistreated him. He hated her. He couldn’t get back at her, maybe because he was too young or too afraid, or maybe because she was his mother and he loved her anyway. And somewhere in that tangled mess, he’s doing to these boys what she did to him. He’s carrying out the same torture, following whatever reason she gave him for the mistreatment he suffered, essentially doing what she would have done. Reenacting, fulfilling her stated purpose, whatever. It could even be some kind of sick tribute to her. But every so often, he acts out his rage against her. It’s not logical, but it freaking fits.”
“If you start looking for logic in the mind of a serial killer, you’d need to be a pretzel,” he said heavily. “One other thing that was omitted from the autopsies here, but was picked up on some of the others—genital bruising.”
“Perimortem?”
“Definitely. And only on the boys.”
She swore and sank slowly back into her chair. “I could write his history now.”
“So could I. Now we need to turn it into action. That’s where Gage comes in.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “That’s where I come in. If I look enough like those boys that Gage noticed it, then I may well look like his mother. I need to see photos of the women.”
“Lew’s sending them,” he said grimly. “They’re definitely coming.”
* * *
The storm had bollixed everything up. Gage said he’d be over as soon as he could, but he didn’t want to come in his official vehicle. He joked about hitching a ride on one of the plows.
Looking out the window, DeeJay could well believe that might be necessary. Craig Stone from the forest service called and said it would probably be afternoon before he could make it. Everything was still on hold, and the snow was still falling.
DeeJay turned from the window to Cade. “I have to keep telling myself that we have a little time, that the timer on this bomb isn’t set to four minutes or something.”
“I hear you. But considering the stakes, it might as well be.”
They’d both been doing a lot of pacing, but she could tell he was also doing as much ruminating as she was. Neither of them had apparently yet come up with something they thought worth sharing. At a stand. She hated it.
She heard him swear and he faced her. “This isn’t doing a damn bit of good. I mean, I’d wade out there right now, but everything’s closed. I couldn’t even get into a decent conversation about this with someone without barging into a living room.”
The image made her smile faintly. “The questions we’d ask would only raise more. We might even get committed.”
Some of the tension seeped out of him. “You’re right. So how about a nap? If we can. Right here on the couch. We’ll hear if anyone knocks.”
She was feeling weary from lack of sleep. “Worth a try,” she agreed.
They settled on the
couch with a couple of blankets. She curled up, and he stretched his legs out across the floor, sliding down until the back of his head rested against the couch.
“I wonder,” he said, “if our guy is feeling as bottled up as we are right now.”
“I hope not. I don’t want him taking any action at the very first opportunity.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “I just like the idea of him being miserable.”
She couldn’t argue with that. The wireless was still down, so she laid her tablet on the end table and wiggled around beneath her blanket until she felt reasonably comfortable and warm.
Sleep was not usually a problem for her. Time spent in the military pretty much taught everyone to grab a nap at any opportunity. You never knew how long it might be before you slept again.
But exhausted though she was, sleep eluded her. There was far too much rolling around in her mind, none of it pleasant. She tried to replace thoughts of the killer with thoughts of making love with Cade, but even they couldn’t take over. She lay there growing tenser by the minute and arguing with herself over whether she should just get up and go to the kitchen. If she lay there much longer, she feared she would start wiggling and keep him awake. He needed sleep every bit as much as she did.
But then he astonished her. She felt his weight as he leaned over and rested against her.
“If you curl up any tighter,” he murmured, “you’ll turn into a black hole.”
“Sorry.”
“Shh. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No.” It actually felt good to have him pressed against her like this. At some level she knew that was dangerous, that she shouldn’t indulge in this. After all, this was an ephemeral thing, whatever was happening between them, and they’d need to work together for years. But she couldn’t make herself resist, not when he made her feel so good.
Little by little, her muscles relaxed. Finally, she dozed off, carried away from the nightmares of reality.
Chapter 9
A little before noon, she awoke. She felt Cade stir and sit up, leaving her to feel amazingly bereft. Never would she have imagined that a man leaning on her that way could have been so comforting and relaxing.
Reluctantly, she returned to the world, sitting up and stretching. Cade rose from the couch, saying nothing, and returned a few minutes later with mugs of coffee. He handed her one.
“Good morning,” he said. His voice sounded rusty.
“I guess it’s here again,” she agreed. “Thanks for the coffee.” And for the comfort. She didn’t say it, aware that there were some places it wasn’t safe to go.
He wandered to the window, pulling back the curtain and looking out. “The blizzard has settled down. Just a little gently falling snow, but you can’t actually tell where the street is.”
“I guess Gage and Craig might not even show today.”
“It’s possible.” He dropped the curtain and came back to sit on the other end of the couch. “Just enjoy your coffee. No need to jump right back in with both feet. I think we’ve earned a little slack time.”
As if there was anything else they could do right now. But she simply nodded and tried to let her mind wander over things that had nothing to do with the case. Blind alleys were most likely to develop when you couldn’t put something aside for a little while, when you focused too hard. Letting the mind drift could not only be refreshing, but it might allow new avenues to suddenly appear all on their own.
“I’ve always liked this town,” he remarked. “Not that I was ever here for very long, and it’s been quite a while.”
“What did you come for before?”
“Mainly just to bring information or pick some up. Passing through. Didn’t even stay the night or meet anyone except the sheriff really. Usually the locals can handle their own problems, but sometimes they spill out of the county, so we exchange information.”
“So you’re not worried anyone would recognize you?”
“Not likely. It’s been quite a while and I didn’t exactly hang out. But I still liked this place.”
“I like most of what I’ve seen of it so far. I’m wondering about the ski resort, though.”
He turned on the couch, raising one denim-covered leg a little so it rested, bent, on the cushion. “Exactly. I’ve seen what oil did to places, and I’ve seen what tourism can do. I realize you can’t fight change, but the idea that this town won’t change if it becomes a big ski destination...well, I’m not buying it.”
“It bothers you?”
“I don’t want to see it become plastic, like you said. But they need the boost to their economy. Only time will tell what it does to the area. They’ve been through changes before, though. A big semiconductor plant was here for a few years. Lots of jobs, kids didn’t leave as often, new people came in. It created some tension. Then the place shut down and everyone paid in some way. But they did finally get a community college.” He smiled, then sipped his coffee.
“You think the same thing might happen with the resort?”
“They talk about hiring locally. I think Masters believes it, too. But if it grows...” He shrugged. “Time will tell.”
She peered at him. “Are you getting nostalgic?”
“Why not? This was like a place out of time for so long. The modern world impinges every so often, chipping away at the rural life. Inevitable. I’ve watched it happen all over the state. No point in making a judgment about it. It just is.”
She nodded, thinking about it. “That one-horse town where I grew up?”
“In Texas. Yeah?”
“It’s still a one-horse town. It’ll probably never change because it’s planted in the middle of ranch-and farmland, and there’s no reason anyone would want to build anything in the middle of nowhere. Not there. So my mom and pop run a small pharmacy. Would you believe it still has a lunch counter? That’s how little the place has changed.”
“But you moved on?”
“Obviously. I couldn’t find what I needed there. A lot of kids move on, like you were saying about this place. Some make it to college, others enlist, taking the fastest bus out of town. Very little opportunity, unless you want to be someone’s hired hand. If the distances weren’t so huge, the place would probably have dried up and blown away, but it’s easier for most of the ranchers and farmers to head to our town for some things. The co-op is booming, for example. Plenty of feed, seed and fertilizer to sell. The equipment companies do a decent business. And nobody’s going to drive to Amarillo or Lubbock to get a prescription filled or to go to church. So it hangs on. But it’s a little like watching sunset in slow motion.”
“You make it sound sad.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Once upon a time it seemed that way to me.”
“Now?”
“I’m glad Mom and Pop are still doing well.”
“You look Native American.”
She smiled. “My great-grandmother was Comanche. I’m told I look a lot like her.”
He laughed quietly. “I hear the Comanche were great warriors. I guess the blood runs true.”
She blinked, surprised, then laughed. “Maybe so.” She felt complimented by his remark, even though he was probably only referring to her decision to join the army. She hadn’t been unique in that. It was the fastest bus ticket out of town.
“You ever think about going back to take over that pharmacy?”
She shook her head. “I came here because I like the rural life, but only to an extent. I’d die spending my days behind a counter.” She needed more action than that. So far, her new job in Wyoming seemed to be doing that and more.
“That bother your parents?”
She shook her head. “Maybe at first, but they adjusted. They’ve hired a young couple to help out, and they’ll probably buy the p
lace when my parents retire.” All neat and tidy. At least her parents didn’t resent her for not taking over the family business. That would have disturbed her, but instead they seemed more than willing to accept she had different needs.
Her hometown was so far away from where she was now in space and time. She felt a twinge of longing for her family and familiar sights but knew she could never go back for more than a visit. Whatever it was about her, she had been driven to take a different path through life.
Rising, she went into the kitchen and made toasted scrambled-egg sandwiches for both of them. Cade joined her just as she was finishing up, remarking that he couldn’t ignore the good smells.
“About the limits of my cooking,” she told him wryly. “It’s not my thing, anyway.”
“Don’t enjoy it?”
“Never have.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I do,” he answered casually enough. Her heart skipped a little, wondering if he meant anything more, then she dismissed it. Sometimes she just needed to turn off the investigator inside of her and take things at face value.
He complimented her scrambled eggs as they sat at the table. But sitting at the table had an inescapable effect: the files stacked at one end drove DeeJay’s thoughts back to the case. She sensed by Cade’s silence that he was also thinking about the case again. Well, it had been a nice break.
They didn’t talk about it, however, not even as they washed the dishes and made more of the inevitable coffee. DeeJay checked her tablet and found the police wireless was still down. Same for the cell phones. They hadn’t heard a plow yet, and DeeJay finally looked out front to take in a world that had become almost formless under a deep blanket of snow. Oh, she could see the houses across the way, but drifted snow rode up onto porches and covered roofs thickly. Even the trees that lined the street looked as if they had donned heavy white coats.
Cade came to stand beside her. “Hard to say how much of that is snow that fell during the storm and how much is snow that was blown until it found a relatively windless place to land.”