On Dangerous Ground

by D. L. Line

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  all of the blood from his gloves. One last study of the area with his flashlight, and Bradley left the way he came in, through the back door.

  Six hours, one pair of latex gloves and paper shoe covers down the toilet of a rest area on the Ohio Turnpike, and one finished pack of smokes later, he dropped the car at the rental place and called a cab to take him home. He, of course, had the foresight to have the cab dump him several blocks from home, further clouding the trail from the potential eyes of the police. Arriving in his apartment after taking the circuitous route around the back of the Dumpsters, he noted the time. Six twenty-three a.m.

  Mission accomplished.

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  Chapter FiFteen

  Terri leaned on her desk, coffee in one hand, her head in the other, looking over old case files to finalize status. There was nothing new brewing, certainly nothing of the vengeful ex-con in Michigan variety. She heard the ding of the elevator and saw the doors slide open through the glass of the office wall. McNally was back from whatever meeting he had been to. She noticed the expression on his face was tense, with the edge of a sneer, but that wasn’t really anything new. His stride always carried him purposefully in whatever direction he was going, but today the objective was his office. He didn’t even look up to summon Terri and Bobby to his office, just barked out their last names and kept right on walking. She heard the tone, recognized it as slightly gruffer than usual. Looking up, she caught Bobby’s eyes, and could see that he had heard something different as well. She headed directly to the pit bull’s office, followed closely by Bobby, who ushered her into the office and closed the door behind him. McNally pointed to the chairs facing him and dropped the files he’d been carrying onto the surface of his otherwise orderly desk. At the point where he would usually start barking monosyllabic instructions, Terri watched as something new transpired. McNally sat in his high-backed chair, tossed his

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  glasses on the desk, and rubbed his face with both hands. Terri glanced at Bobby quickly to confirm that he too had seen McNally do something out of character, but Bobby’s slight shrug indicated that he didn’t know what it meant either. Terri thought that it couldn’t possibly be good.

  McNally finally provided the answer to their questions.

  “It’s this NoVaGenEx thing. It just got worse.” He pointed at the file on his desk. “One more NoVaGenEx computer consultant has been murdered. Bright red number seventeen on this one. I’ve just spent the last two hours upstairs convincing my boss that we’ve covered everything here, and there was nothing to lead us to anything that could have stopped this shit. But, hey now, along comes victim number four, same totally random number thing, but no suspect, no motive, nothing…”

  He stopped to make eye contact with Terri and Bobby. “But you two are going to fix that. The case is officially a serial murder and it’s yours to run.” He pushed the file across the desk toward Terri. “Look that over, make your calls, do that voodoo that you do, and give me a plan by the end of the day. Thank you.”

  Bobby ushered Terri out of the office ahead of him and turned to close the door. Terri walked slowly back to her desk.“What’s in there that’s got him so riled up?” Bobby asked.

  Terri took a deep breath to center herself. “Because we had to sit and wait, and now this sick bastard gives us victim number four, and I’d be willing to bet he hasn’t given us another fucking thing. If he doesn’t get cocky and screw up soon, I don’t see how we can stop him.”

  “Oh, shit, you’re right.”

  “Yeah, I’m right, but not for long. C’mon, let’s get on the phone and find this guy before he does it again.” She allowed

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  herself to finish the thought in her head— before he gets to Jen. Terri suggested that Bobby call the police in Pittsburgh while she called the parole officer in Ann Arbor to check on the status of Bradley Allen Davis.

  “He hasn’t gone anywhere.” The parole officer was adamant. “He’s checking in, made his clinic appointments at the hospital. He works every shift at his job.” Terri heard papers shuffle on the other end of the call. “He did run some errands the other day, the drug store and things like that, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Terri shook her head. “Thank you.” It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had another suspect, but there was still nothing to tie Davis to anything. “Call us if anything changes.” She hung up the phone.

  Terri looked toward Bobby as he finished his call to Pittsburgh. She raised her eyebrows, silently asking if he’d discovered anything new. He just shook his head.

  “Terri, we’ve got nothing new. The crime scene was as clean as the first three. Vic was shot through the back of the neck while he was working at his computer. The neighbors didn’t hear a thing.” Bobby threw his pen on the desk. “This is starting to really piss me off.”

  “I think that’s the point,” Terri said. Bobby cocked his head and stared at her. He looked confused. “Bobby, think about it. Whoever is doing this is setting something up.”

  “Yeah, now we just have to find out what that is.” Bobby checked the report from the Pittsburgh Police. “Number seventeen. I’ll call the crypto guys and let them know.”

  “Thanks. Not like I think it’s going to get us anything.”

  “Why? What are you thinking now?”

  “I think that these numbers mean something to someone besides the perp.” Terri took a long breath and rubbed her eyes.

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  “Like he’s trying to send a message to someone. A message that only this one person will understand.”

  Bobby sat up. “Okay, if that’s his point, then how is he getting this info out to this mystery person, considering that we’re keeping the number thing out of the public eye?”

  “Maybe he wants us to deliver it.” Terri shrugged. She was stabbing in the dark now, but it was all she had. “Maybe it’s for someone that we’ve already talked to, or maybe he’s going to deliver the message personally at some point in his diabolical plan.”

  “What?” Bobby laughed. “Did you just say ‘diabolical plan’?”

  “Yes.” Terri waved him off. “Forget it. I’m just frustrated.”

  “I can see that. Terri, are you okay? You’re more worked up than usual about this.”

  She let out a long breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s like putting together a jigsaw puzzle when all of the pieces are the same color. Great fun…if you’re into frustration.”

  Bobby got up from his desk and came over to pull at the sleeve of her jacket. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs and get a sandwich and take this discussion outside. We need to talk about some things and I don’t think you’ll want to be in the office for it.”

  Nodding, Terri idly thought that she was a little hungry and that sometimes a change of venue was good for the thought process. As the elevator doors closed, she turned to Bobby and asked, “Now what? We have another victim with no ties to anything or anyone but NoVaGenEx. There’s no motive that I can see. None of these people were working on anything classified. They’re all computer consultants like Jen, but they weren’t working on a project with her. Maybe this has nothing

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  to do with her, but I can’t shake this feeling, Bobby. She’s a part of this.”

  The elevator doors slid open to reveal another nondescript government hallway, but the sounds of a busy kitchen indicated the presence of the nearby cafeteria. Bobby motioned her forward and she ordered her food, then stood at the end of the line to wait as he loaded his tray. They paid quickly and headed for the terrace, where they could talk in relative privacy. Terri was glad for the uncharacteristically warm day. She had too much to say that she didn’t want ov
erheard inside the building.

  “Terri, what’s going on up there?” he asked, pointing toward her head. “What do you mean Jen’s a part of this?”

  “Oh, I don’t think she’s in on it or anything. She couldn’t be. There’s nothing in the investigation to indicate she has had any contact with the victims. Quit looking at me like that. Of course I checked. I mean, I haven’t checked on the vic from Pittsburgh, but she was with me all weekend.”

  Bobby shook his head, “You are awfully cool about this, Terri.”

  “I have to be, Bobby. It’s the job, and now it’s official and there’s more stuff to process, and—”

  “And?”

  “And part of that stuff includes a list of potential victims that contains at least one name that’s making this harder to process than usual.”

  “When did she go home?”

  “Early Monday morning. She had class. Dammit, Bobby. This is what I get for taking your advice. I like her. She’s amazingly smart, totally goofy—”

  “Hot,” he slipped in through another mouthful of sandwich.

  Terri flushed and nodded. “That’s not quite where I was

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  going with this, but yes, she’s completely hot in this silly, quirky kind of way. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “Are you going to tell her about this latest development?”

  “Well, Agent Kraft, now isn’t that the million-dollar question?” She thought for a second before continuing. “We do have to inform the local jurisdictions around the consultant network that we officially suspect serial crimes here.” Bobby nodded his assent. “I’m still not sure about how to deal with our list of potential victims. I mean, we have no evidence, no suspect, and I don’t think it’s in anyone’s best interest to sound a general alarm. We might find something in the next few days that gives us a better idea of who the next victim might be.”

  “Yeah, I know the drill, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Well, I guess that’s because I don’t have an answer to that question yet. No idea. This is one of those complicated issues I was trying to avoid. Guess it’s too late now. Maybe I’ll talk to her about it this weekend.”

  Bobby arched his eyebrows again, asking the silent question. Terri answered, “Yes, since it’s a long weekend, she’s coming up here again for a homemade dinner and some quiet movie watching. Come on. Let’s go make those phone calls.”

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  Chapter sixteen

  Jen could smell the scents of the dance floor. Sweat mingled with smoke, cologne, and spilled beer. She could feel the body behind her. Slightly sweaty, tight tank top, breasts pressed lightly into her back; well-muscled arms raised high overhead, dancing with abandon. She reached back, grabbing a pocket of the cargo pants, pulling the dancer closer, feeling Terri’s pelvis lightly grind into her ass. God, that felt good. She allowed her own head to roll back, mouth open, savoring the delicious sensation all over her back as the lights flashed through her closed eyelids and the music drove them onward. She could feel the rumble of the tires…

  Tires! “Oh, shit!” Jen felt the tires contact the rumble strips on the side of the highway, shaking her from the grip of the incredibly vivid memory. Pulling the wheel hard to the left to regain control, she silently thanked the Virginia Department of Transportation for the warning that kept her SUV from contacting the guardrail. “Rosenberg, get a grip. It’s only one more hour.” She shook her head and grabbed the travel mug in the cup holder between the front seats. Bracing herself with a long drink of her coffee, she released the last images of her night out at the bar with Terri and Bobby.

  She spent a lot of time living in her own head with the

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  memories of the stunning Agent McKinnon, replaying every moment they had spent together since the day they met. Sure, they’d talked on the phone, a lot. Pretty much every day. There was even a flirty e-mail or two (or twelve). She’d also made good on her promise to share details with Joe. Well, not every detail. A girl had to keep something for herself, after all. She smiled a little and licked her lips in anticipation of what might transpire this weekend. Home-cooked meal, a glass or two of wine with dinner, maybe some ice cream, dripping into the cleavage between those glorious tits, straddling her lap as she licked it off…

  “Rosenberg, stop! There’s more going on here than that.”

  There really was. Jen was a little confused by the whole thing. Not only did they talk on the phone, but Jen found herself counting the hours and minutes until the next time they talked. She caught herself wondering what Terri was doing during the times that they weren’t on the phone. And it wasn’t just about the sex. Jen missed seeing Terri when she wasn’t around. So much it almost hurt.

  “Oh, shit, Rosenberg,” she warned her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You’re falling and you’re falling hard.” The realization hit Jen like a ton of bricks.

  v

  Jen pulled into the driveway of the townhouse after a short battle through the Friday afternoon traffic of Connecticut Avenue. The front door opened and her own personal fantasy cop came bounding down the steps. Terri opened the car door and grabbed Jen by the shoulders as she stepped out, pulling her into an incredibly warm, wet kiss. Jen pulled Terri close by the belt loops of her jeans, leaning against the side of the car, reveling in the sensation of the body pushing her backward.

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  Oxygen becoming an issue, Jen pulled away to breathe and try to talk. “Wow, Agent McKinnon, you must be really glad to see me.”

  “Well, I think, judging by your reaction, that the feeling is mutual.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Jen looked into Terri’s eyes, tracing the line of her jaw with her finger. “How about you help me get my luggage into your lovely home, feed me something wonderful for dinner, and…” She waggled her eyebrows, pointedly not finishing the sentence.

  “Why, Dr. Rosenberg, are you insinuating that I have lured you here for my own nefarious purpose?”

  Jen laughed, raising her hands to show that her fingers were crossed. “Let’s hope so!”

  Several minutes later, following much kissing, fondling, and at least three more rounds of pin the lesbian to the wall, Jen was happily sitting on the kitchen counter with her first glass of wine. Not that it was somewhere she would normally choose to sit. She’d been picked up and placed there with an order to stay because Terri was concerned that dinner would be ruined if Jen couldn’t keep her hands to herself, and it kept her out of the way. She was thoroughly enjoying the show as Terri busied herself around the kitchen, pulling a beef tenderloin and potatoes out of the oven, checking the broccoli in the steamer, and whipping up a simple vinaigrette for a spring green salad. Terri let the meat rest for a minute while she gathered plates from the cupboard over the sink. Jen had to duck to avoid the door, feeling like she was in the way, but all offers of assistance had been refused with a simple “Let me take care of you” from Terri.

  Finally, after everything was settled, Jen was allowed down from her perch and led by the hand to the breakfast nook at the back of the kitchen. Dinner smelled great and she realized that

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  she was really hungry, but she was stopped from digging in by a hand placed on her own. Terri raised her wineglass, offering a toast to comfort food and really great company. Terri asked her about the ride up.

  “It was fine. No big deal.” She left out the part about almost running off the road in a sweaty fantasy-induced haze and her realization that she was falling for Terri. “How about you? Any more bad-guy action?”

  Terri shifted uncomfortably in her seat, took another long drink of her wine, and looked right at Jen. “Actually, there is something else that happened, and I’ve been debating about how to deal with it.”

  �
�Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Terri took a deep breath and continued, “I wasn’t sure how to bring this up, or even if I should, but another of your coworkers was targeted and attacked earlier this week.”

  Jen was confused and a little surprised. “Why wouldn’t you bring this up? Seems kind of important, I think.”

  “It might be and it might not. I didn’t want to worry you needlessly, and there’s not actually much to talk about.” Jen wasn’t sure how to read Terri’s face. She seemed worried, but maybe a little guarded.

  “Terri, is there something you’re not telling me? ’Cause you seem a little, um, avoid-y. Like something’s bothering you. If something big is going on here, please tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  Terri sat back down and took one more drink of the dark red Shiraz, evidently looking for a little alcohol-fueled courage to continue the conversation. “You see, Jen, the problem here is that the FBI has officially declared the case a serial murder. Bobby and I are heading up the investigation, so I’m a little torn here between what I should tell you, officially, and what

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  I want to tell you because I care so much about you. You’re pretty important to me, if you haven’t guessed that by now.”

  Jen was touched by Terri’s kind thoughts, but was starting to get a little scared. “Terri, what are you talking about? How bad is this?” Actually, as she thought about it, she was leaving scared and heading into panicked. “Terri, is there something else going on here that you’re not telling me?”

  Terri set down her glass and pushed her untouched meal to the side. Leaning on the table, she took Jen’s hands in hers and looked deep into her eyes, apparently both looking for and attempting to provide comfort and confidence. “Yes, someone else is dead. A consultant in Pittsburgh was murdered. Shot in the back of the neck.”

  As she felt herself start to shake, Jen gently pulled her hands free, picked up and drained her wineglass. She reached for the bottle and refilled her glass, draining more than half of it in one long slug. The wine began to warm her insides and calm the shakes. When she lowered the glass, she could see Terri watching her intently.