Profile of Terror: Book Two of Profile Series

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Profile of Terror: Book Two of Profile Series Page 10

by Alexa Grace


  Closing the door behind him, he turned to Carly. "You didn't tell her about the body in the alley, did you?"

  "Of course not, and here's a question for you. Why didn't you tell me that Kaitlyn hired you to find her sister?"

  "It just happened a couple of days ago."

  "I'm not judging, Gabe, but don't you think it makes things even more complicated? I mean, you dated Abby, and now she's missing. Then you are hired by her sister as a private investigator."

  "At this point, everything I do makes my life more complicated," Gabe responded, clearly frustrated. "I was already looking for Abby when Kaitlyn asked me to help. I couldn't say no to her."

  "Brody told me you found the body in the alley, and that you think it might be Abby. How did you happen to find the body?"

  "It's a long story, Carly. Ask Brody about it. I just talked to him." He tiredly ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

  "I'm sorry, Gabe. I came here to see if you needed to talk. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

  "Yes, you can tell me if the body is identified as Abby Reece as soon as you know."

  <><><>

  Gabe found Kaitlyn sitting on the sofa in his living area. She looked worried and anxious. He wanted to fold her in his arms and make the burden on her slender shoulders slip away.

  "Where have you been? I told you that I would be here at nine o'clock."

  "I'm sorry. Something came up." It wasn't a lie, but was close. He refused to tell Kaitlyn that her sister might be lying in the morgue without a definite identification. What if the woman's body wasn't Abby after all?

  "I heard police sirens. Do you know what is going on?"

  "No. Maybe it was another fire. Brody told me they think we may have a serial arsonist." The lie came out smoothly, and he prayed she believed him. Skillfully, he changed the subject before she had a chance to ask a question.

  Kaitlyn eyed Gabe and wondered why he'd just lied to her. There were men who tell award-worthy lies, but Gabe wasn't one of them.

  Just as she was about to confront him, he pulled off his wet T-shirt, revealing broad shoulders, a rock-hard chest that tapered nicely down to a rippling six-pack, tight waist, and slim hips. The man was exquisite. There was no other word for it. The room temperature seemed to raise a couple of degrees. Kaitlyn's heart jack-hammered against her ribs as she tried to throttle the dizzying current of excitement racing through her body. Forcing her eyes to his face, she found Gabe watching her with a smile that slowly tipped up one corner of his mouth.

  Embarrassed she'd been caught ogling him, Kaitlyn's face burned a dark scarlet. Rising to her feet, she struggled to compose herself. She glanced at her watch. "I need to go. My new teacher orientation starts in fifteen minutes."

  "New teacher?"

  "Yes, I got hired as a third grade teacher at Morel Elementary. I'm filling in for a Mrs. Grey, who went on maternity leave."

  "That's great, Kaitlyn. Congratulations." Gabe walked her to the door.

  "I think so, too. I love kids, and teaching them has been my dream since childhood. I'm pretty excited." Good Lord, she was chattering, filling in the empty space that lay between her embarrassment and attraction. The faster she could put some distance between herself and Gabe, the better.

  "I can tell. It's good to see you smiling." He handed Kaitlyn her umbrella.

  With a deep sigh of relief, Gabe watched Kaitlyn from the window as she strode down the rain-dampened street toward her car. Thankfully, he was able to avoid telling her that they may have found her sister's body.

  Why did he feel so protective toward Kaitlyn? Okay, the feelings he had for her were more than just protective. Even knowing it was a mistake to get involved with her, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He wanted her, and the heat in her eyes a few minutes ago told him she felt the same way.

  <><><>

  At eight o'clock that night, Brody, Cameron, and Carly waited for Bryan Pittman in the sheriff's conference room. The coroner was scheduled to present his autopsy report about the young woman whose body they found in the alley that morning.

  Carly and Cameron had attended the autopsy earlier in the afternoon, and had painstakingly slipped items into evidence bags. Cameron had photographed the vintage brocade-covered high-heel shoe found on the victim. Carly had been correct. The shoe was two sizes too large for the victim. It was a size eight, and the victim wore a size six. If it wasn't Abby's shoe, whose was it? Cameron planned to email the shoe photo to a sizable state law enforcement email list to find out if the shoe was linked to any of their cases. Since a small percentage of bodies are left posed, he would attach the photograph of the posed body he'd taken at the crime scene, along with the shoe photo.

  Realizing Brody would want him to head the homicide case, especially if the victim was Abby Reece, Cameron had spent the day re-assigning some of his cases to Ron Bergman and Sal Murray on his detective team.

  Carly had researched the life of Abby Reece on the Internet, first comparing her photo on Facebook to that of the body in the alley. Though they still lacked an official identification, she was certain the body was that of Abby Reece. Next, she used her findings to start a preliminary victim profile. Abby Reece was not in a high-risk occupation, like a prostitute, which involved casual sexual encounters with strangers. She was a college student who may have had casual sexual encounters, but they probably took place in the relative safety of the college campus in a dorm room or apartment.

  Of course, once Bryan officially identified the body, Carly would talk to friends and family members to generate more detail about the victim's lifestyle, and how it may have contributed to her death. Hopefully she'd be able to have enough information to start a profile of the killer. Questions whirled in Carly's brain like a tornado. Was the killer organized with a plan, or a specific preference of killing? Did he have a fantasy that only particular victims would fulfill? Did he know his victims, or did he target strangers?

  Carly glanced at Brody, who seemed anxious and concerned. Why wouldn't he be? His younger brother could be named as a person of interest in a murder case. She wished there were something she could do to ease the worry lines on his face. If they were alone, she would have straddled him on his chair and kissed him until his worries disappeared — at least momentarily.

  Bryan, in a lab coat, entered the room, laid a file folder on the table, then wordlessly walked to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup, and sat next to Cameron.

  "Is it Abby Reece?" Brody was tense and impatient.

  "When she went missing, her mother gave the West Lafayette Police Abby's dental records." Bryan began. "Yes, our body is Abigail Lynne Reece."

  "Cause of death?" Brody’s mouth dipped into a deeper frown.

  "Asphyxiation. She was smothered inside the plastic bag we found covering her head," Fatigue settled in pockets under Bryan's eyes, and he threaded his fingers tiredly through his hair. "There was bruising on her upper arms that could indicate one person held her down while she was struggling to breathe, while the other tightly wound the duct tape around her neck, ensuring no air would enter the plastic bag on her head. By the way, there was a partial print on a section of the duct tape."

  "Excellent," said Brody.

  "Bryan, do you think there are two killers, working together?" asked Carly.

  "That would be my guess. It would make the abduction and murder that much easier."

  "That explains the signature on the email Gabe received. It was signed 'Gamers' plural, indicating more than one person," Brody said.

  "Was she sexually assaulted?" Carly asked Bryan.

  "No."

  "That's odd." Cameron pulled out a photo of the body at the crime scene. "We found her nude. Why would the killers leave her posed like that in the alley?"

  "One thought that comes to mind is that the killers are not motivated by sexual gratification," said Carly. "Maybe their goal is to dehumanize their female victims by stripping them of their clothing, and posing them in a sexual
manner in a public place."

  "After reading the email they sent to Gabe, I think their motive is to play games with law enforcement. They posed the body as if to say the county sheriff and his detectives are too stupid to catch them," said Cameron. "Which is one fucking wrong assumption!" Anger narrowed his eyes and stiffened his jaw.

  "Did you just say 'victims' plural?" Brody asked of Carly. "Why do you think there are more victims?"

  "I think this crime is too organized to be a first killing. The killers took time to painstakingly plan the abducting, killing and posing of Abby Reece," she replied. "Not only that. They crafted the email that they sent to Gabe and the media."

  Cameron added, "There is also the line in the email, 'This may be the best game ever,' which I think indicates this is not the first time they've killed, or taunted law enforcement."

  "I'm sorry," Carly said to Brody. "I know that's the last thing you want to hear, especially after the Jim Ryder case. Their killings may not have occurred in Shawnee County, and the bodies may or may not be found here. But believe me, there are other victims."

  "Damn it!" Brody slammed his fist on the table, causing Bryan's coffee to slosh out of his mug. Brody's expression was clouded in anger. He handed Bryan a napkin. "The media is going to have a field day with this. County residents are still pissed off we didn't catch Jim Ryder sooner, not to mention the maniac was one of our own deputies. Now this."

  "We'll get them," promised Cameron. "That's why I'm putting out an email with information about the note and photos of the crime scene, as well as the shoe, to all state and federal law enforcement agencies. We might get lucky and get a lead."

  Brody looked at Bryan. "Did you give the shoe she was wearing to the Crime Lab in Indy to process any trace evidence or DNA?"

  "Of course. I'll let you know if I hear anything from them."

  Cameron added, "I'll find out the brand of shoe. I want to know if the shoe is one that is hard to find. Is it expensive? If we can track it down to where it was purchased, we might be able to get a buyer's name."

  "Try the vintage shops." Carly handed him a short list of shops in the area.

  "Bryan, when was time of death?" asked Brody.

  "Judging by her body temperature and state of rigor mortis, I think she died between midnight and two in the morning."

  "That fits, Gabe got the email from the killers at 6:30 this morning. That gave them plenty of time to send the email from Abby's apartment, drive here, and pose the body."

  Bryan pushed his chair back, gathered his paperwork in a file folder, and prepared to leave. "Call me if you have any more questions. I'm heading home for a couple hours of shut-eye." He left the conference room, closing the door behind him.

  Brody turned to Cameron. "Let me know when you've notified the next of kin."

  Cameron rose and moved to the door, then turned and asked, "Isn't it just the sister and the mother?"

  "Yes."

  "What about the West Lafayette Police? Do you want me to contact them?"

  "No, I'm heading to my office right now to tell the chief their missing person has been found dead in Shawnee County, and it's now our case. I'll request they send her file to you," said Brody.

  "Thanks. It's getting late, so I'll contact Abby's family tomorrow morning."

  "No problem."

  Once Cameron left the room, Brody pulled Carly to him and kissed her quickly on the lips. "There's no reason for you to stay late, too. Why don't you head home? I'll see you later."

  Carly nodded in agreement and watched as he left the room. Once she heard him on the phone in his office, she pulled out her cell and dialed Gabe's number to honor her promise to tell him if the body in the alley belonged to Abby.

  Within seconds she felt a large, warm hand clenched around her own, removing her cell phone from it. Snapping to attention, she looked up to find Brody leaning over her as he read the display on her cell phone. Her heart stopped as she met his gaze. Carly was speechless. She had never lied to Brody and wasn't going to start now.

  "I know why you're calling Gabe, and we need to talk," Brody said coldly. "But not here. I'll see you at home." He pocketed her cell phone and left the room.

  Great. Just great. There was nothing she disliked more than fighting with Brody, especially when it was so obvious she'd crossed the line. She should have told Brody of her promise to Gabe. The call made it look like she was going behind his back — which she was. Worst of all, she knew how he felt. She would have felt the same way if he'd gone to her brother, Blake, with one of her issues, and not told her about it.

  <><><>

  Parking in front of Gabe's office building, Cameron got out of his car and glanced up. It was not surprising that lights were on in Gabe's office. Working hard had always been his own remedy when he had a problem. Though, he'd never had a problem like being a suspect for a murder. Gabe was the ex-boyfriend, which meant he went to the top of the suspect list.

  He wasn't looking forward to telling his younger brother that Abby Reece had been murdered, but he didn't want anyone else to do it, either. He and Gabe were close, and nothing was going to change that. It was bullshit that anyone might think that Gabe would hurt anyone, especially someone he'd dated.

  Reaching Gabe's office, Cameron knocked, and then opened the door to find Gabe at his desk, working on his computer.

  "Cam, what are you doing here?"

  "Do I need an excuse to come see my brother?"

  "Sit down. Want some coffee?"

  "No. I've had so much caffeine today, I'll never get to sleep. Not that I'll have time for that tonight."

  "What's going on? I know you're not here at this time of night just to visit," Gabe’s voice was rough with anxiety.

  "Bryan was able to make identification of the body through dental records. It's Abby Reece." Cameron watched the shock of discovery flash over his brother's face. "I'm sorry, Gabe." This was the part of his job he hated, notifying people of the death of a friend or loved one. He felt even worse delivering the news to his brother.

  Gabe rose from his seat and walked to his window, wordlessly peering out at the darkness of night, the street alit with the street lamps below. Cameron wondered what he was thinking but said nothing, letting his brother soak in the news. It wasn't like the Chase brothers were strangers to pain. Years ago when their mother was the county sheriff, she'd been shot by a drug dealer who thought she was going to search his trunk full of meth. He wished she were here. She'd know what to do to make Gabe feel better.

  Finally Gabe turned toward him. "Do Kaitlyn and Abby's mom know?"

  "No. I'll tell them tomorrow."

  "I'd like to go with you when you tell Kaitlyn."

  "Why?"

  "Because I care about her."

  "Gabe, I heard you'd taken her on as a client, but are you in a relationship with her?"

  "No. Can't I care about her without being involved with her?"

  "But you want to, don't you?"

  "Shit, Cam. Are you going to make a federal case out of it?"

  "I can't believe you're getting involved with the sister of your ex-girlfriend, who is now a murder victim. A little messy, don't you think?"

  Gabe swiftly changed the subject. "Is it your case now?"

  "Yes, but not officially. When I left the office, Brody was calling the West Lafayette police."

  "I can help you, Cam."

  "Not sure that's such a good idea. You're too close to the case."

  "Bull. Private investigators work with the police all the time."

  "Not when the P.I. is the ex-boyfriend of the victim, and on a short suspect list."

  "Well, then let's get me off the list. Has Brody scheduled a State Police interview? He told me that's what was going to happen. Let's get it over with."

  Cameron slipped his cell out of his pocket and sent a text to Brody, asking him when Gabe's interview would take place. There was a brief knock on the door before Brody entered the room and sat next to Cameron, h
olding his cell phone.

  "Got your text," Brody said to Cameron. To Gabe, he said, "The interview is tomorrow at ten in one of our interview rooms. Indiana State Police is sending a detective named Robynn Burton. I hear she's one of their rising stars."

  "I'll be there."

  "Be cooperative, Gabe. Tell her all you know."

  "Why the hell wouldn't I cooperate?" Gabe’s lips thinned with irritation. "I've done nothing wrong."

  "She'll ask what you were doing last night during the time of the murder. Do you have an alibi?"

 

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