Ties That Bind

by Anne Patrick

  "Easy, guys," Jo responded into her mike. "He's the father of one of the victims."

  "Not Harrison, Jo…behind you…coming from the direction of the courthouse," Austin informed.

  She whipped around, her free hand slipping inside the blazer to her gun. Her eyes searched the crowd, but she saw no one fitting the description the deputy had given. "Where?" She started moving toward the courthouse.

  "Jo, stay put…Pendergrass, check him out."

  Pendergrass rushed ahead of her, his hand on his gun.

  Jo followed. The adrenaline surging through her body prompted her heart to beat faster. Scanning the crowd, she pulled her gun from its holster and held it firmly in her hand just inside her jacket. Her senses heightened, she was aware of every movement and sound around her.

  "Jo, please stay where you are till I can get someone else on you."

  "I'm fine. Just don't lose him." Then out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a blue suit, the man's back to her, moving quickly away.

  "Forget him Pendergrass…get back to Jo…Jo, where are you?"

  Focusing on the man in front of her, she reached for her earpiece and turned down the volume.

  "Sir, I have a visual. She's right behind him, about a hundred yards up ahead of me. They're almost clear of the crowd."

  "Stay with her…Jo, don't make a move on him till Pendergrass catches up to you…Do you hear me?"

  Jo quickened her steps and waited until they were a good distance away from the rest of the crowd before she raised her gun. "You in the suit…Stop…FBI," she shouted. The man halted, and then raised his hands as if he knew the procedure. "Turn around slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

  He did as she instructed. "Agent McDaniels, my name's James Wingate. I'm a reporter with the Washington Post. I'm reaching for my credentials now."

  Jo continued to hold her gun on him as he reached inside his jacket and then flipped open his billfold. Stepping forward cautiously, she glanced at the picture ID. She guessed him to be in his fifties, and from the streetlight behind him she could clearly make out the letters, PRESS.

  She relaxed her stance, placing her gun back in its holster. "Stand down…I repeat stand down. He's a reporter."

  "Sorry to have alarmed you. I didn't realize I was walking in on a stakeout. I was on my way to speak with you when my pager went off."

  Before she had a chance to respond, Deputy Pendergrass showed up. "Everything all right here?" he asked, his hand still on his weapon.

  Jo was about to answer when Austin joined them. "You can go on back, I'll stay with her," he told his deputy. He then checked the reporter's credentials.

  "From what I've heard, you have reason to be on edge around here," Mr. Wingate said.

  "Yes, well you missed the press conference, it was yesterday."

  "I realize this probably isn't a good time, but I was hoping for a private interview, focusing mainly on you and what you do."

  "Then you're not only wasting my time, you've wasted a trip. I don't do interviews." Jo started to walk off.

  "You spoke at the press conference."

  Jo glanced back. "That was different, it was centered around the victims and the killer. Now if you'll excuse me—"

  "Please, Agent McDaniels, we don't have to do it now. I'm going to be in town a few days. We can meet whenever it's convenient for you."

  She didn't bother with a reply, continuing on her way.

  "Washington Post, my aren't we the popular gal," Austin teased, keeping in step with her.

  "That's nothing, the producers of the Jerry Springer show called me earlier."

  His smirk faded. "Are you serious?"

  "I've been on the show twice, didn't I tell you," she joked. "I was even offered my own psychic hot line."

  "You think you're cute, don't you?"

  She tossed him a smile.

  "Well, what you pulled back there wasn't funny. He could have been the killer."

  "And if he had been, he would have gotten away. Austin, I'm not one of your reserves whose barely had enough training to cover a football game. I'm a federal agent with ten years experience."

  "Point taken. I'm sorry."

  "I know you're frightened for me, I'm scared too, but we have to keep our heads through this."

  "You're right." He draped his arm across her shoulders then reached for her earpiece to turn the volume back up, but she swatted his hand away and did it herself.

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  *****

  Austin could hear the shower running in the next room as he sat in one of the chairs. He glanced to the bedside table and saw Jo's holstered 9mm, only mildly surprised she hadn't taken it in the bathroom with her.

  He suspected the panic he'd witnessed earlier in the day was a rare occurrence, a brief moment of anxiety brought on by the horrible visions she'd experienced over the past few weeks. She'd said guys like this one were a daily thing in her life, a fact that hadn't settled easily with him, but one he knew he was going to have to accept if he wanted to be a part of her life. His belief that she was more than capable of taking care of herself under normal circumstances did little to ease his fear, though, and he knew he wasn't going to rest easy again until this guy was caught. Because this mad man had done something the others hadn't, he'd made it personal.

  Austin couldn't help but feel discouraged after the day's events. First having another victim appear, and then learning Jo was the next on the killer's list. He'd had high hopes the killer would have the nerve to try something at the vigil tonight and was disappointed he hadn't. As it turned out, aside from the hair-raising moment when Jo apprehended the reporter at gunpoint, it'd been a quiet evening.

  Austin heard the shower shut off. He turned down the volume on the television, then leaned back and made himself comfortable. It wasn't but a few minutes and Jo appeared in the doorway dressed in sweats and a tank top. Busy towel-drying her hair, she didn't seem to notice him.

  "It's a good thing Slim is married and old enough to be your father."

  She glanced up with a beautiful smile. "What are you doing here? Where's Slim?"

  "I asked him to take a walk. I wanted to make sure you were all right." He watched as she sat in the other chair folding one leg underneath her. "You looked pretty wiped out earlier."

  "I'm okay. Did Agent Drake and his team find anything today?"

  He wondered if there was ever a time work wasn't on her mind. "Nothing helpful. I guess you already know this one wasn't decapitated?"

  Jo nodded. "And she had dark auburn hair, like mine."

  He ignored the reference. "Why do you think he left the head intact?"

  "His freezer is probably getting full."

  "Seriously, Jo."

  "He's seen my profile. He figures why bother with the extra mess. Do you know anything about her yet?"

  He didn't respond right away, shadowed by sadness from what he'd learned about the latest victim. "We got a positive ID an hour ago from her husband."

  "She was married?"

  "To a pilot with United Air. Her name's Alicia Williams, age thirty-five, married ten years, three children, the oldest one nine."

  "Was she wearing a wedding ring?"

  "No. Her husband said she'd misplaced it a few months ago. Portland PD is checking into her background, talking to her friends. It's a good possibility—"

  "That she's had affairs in the past," she finished his sentence.

  "Did you pick that up at the scene, too?"

  "No. Her husband was an airline pilot who was away from home a lot, and a happily married woman doesn't just misplace her wedding band."

  "Do you think he would have targeted her had she been wearing her wedding band?" Austin interlocked his fingers behind his neck, watching as she continued to towel-dry her hair.

  "I doubt it. If he'd known this victim was a mother, he wouldn't have chosen her. He wouldn't do to a child what he feels was done to him."

  "You
're referring to the remorse he felt with Elena Bradshaw?"

  "Yeah. Which means, Ms. Williams probably didn't brag about her kids when they were having drinks in the lounge together."

  "That reminds me, I need to give Amy Fugate a call and see if she was working last night."

  A knock at the door drew their attention. Austin was at the door before the second knock.

  "Shall I come back?" Slim's voice penetrated the door.

  "Give us a few more minutes." Rejoining Jo, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. "I wish you'd come stay at my house. I could sleep on the sofa."

  "I'm fine, Austin, really."

  "All right." He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her briefly. "If you can't sleep, call me."

  "Thanks, I doubt I'll have any problems sleeping."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jo returned to the motel room to find Slim wide awake, the telephone in his hand, and a very frustrated expression on his face.

  "Here she is now, you tell her." Slim handed Jo the phone. "You sneak out on me again, and I'll handcuff you to the bed," he warned, brushing past her toward the bathroom.

  Jo rolled her eyes at Slim, then figuring it was Austin on the phone, she wished him a 'good morning.'

  "You left the motel by yourself?" Austin's harsh words vibrated in her ear.

  "Relax. I wore my gun, and I only ran half the distance I usually do."

  "Jo, if this guy is watching you, he knows you go running every morning."

  "Well unless you, or, one of your men plan to take up running, you're going to have to allow me this time to myself. Besides, I could be wrong. He may not even be targeting me."

  "Who are you trying to convince of that, me or yourself?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "I have a feeling you're not wrong very often. I think that's why the killer has targeted you. He knows how good you are."

  His assumption brought a smile. "You seem to have a theory of your own. If so, I'd like to hear it," she challenged, sitting down on the bed.

  "Okay. I don't think he's from around here. I think he chose this area because he knows it's your hometown. That it holds memories for you. I think he's met you in the past or has followed your career and has fantasized about being with you someday. Then something happened, the loss of a job or promotion maybe, and it triggered the desire to become closer to you."

  "Not bad, but you're suggesting these murders were sexually motivated and they weren't. Anger and resentment is what's driving him to kill."

  "How can you be sure? Sexual assault was inconclusive in all the cases."

  "Because the person you just described has no social interaction with women and is most likely impotent. He would have never gained these women's trust. Whereas our man is comfortable around women, has worked closely with them and even dated a few. It's only the strong, independent women he resents because they remind him of his mother."

  "I see your point. So do you think he's from your past?"

  "I've no idea, Austin. I've seen him in my visions and know some of the thoughts that have run through his mind, but as far as being able to recognize him, I hope I don't get that chance until he's behind bars."

  "So what have you got planned for the day?"

  "I need to work on my field report to Washington; after that, nothing."

  "I was thinking of taking Bailey out to lunch, you want to join us?"

  "Sure. Shall I meet you there?"

  "No, I'll come by after I pick up Bailey."

  *****

  Austin showered and dressed, and then went downstairs. When he entered the kitchen he found Bailey, still in her pajamas, eating a bowl of cereal. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

  "You're in an awfully good mood. You must have talked to Jo this morning."

  He met her smile with a raised eyebrow.

  "I've lived with you for fifteen years, Dad. You're not exactly what I call a morning person."

  "Does that bother you, about Jo I mean?" he asked, moving on to the counter.

  "I don't know. I like her, and she seems to make you happy."

  He removed a cup from the cabinet and glanced over his shoulder. "You know I loved your mom very much, don't you."

  "I know…wait a minute, are things getting serious between you and Jo?"

  He hesitated, carefully considering his response.

  "Dad, it's okay. I mean I know that you're in love with her. Question is what are you going to do about it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean she lives on the other side of the country. One of you is gonna have to uproot your lives in order to be together, and I'm not particularly thrilled with the thought of moving again."

  "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves here. I'm not even sure how she feels about me."

  "I think it's pretty clear that she loves you."

  "It is?"

  "Take my word for it, I know these things?"

  He thought he did, too, but when he had declared his love for Jo, she had barely acknowledged the endearment. What bothered him more was that his fifteen-year-old daughter seemed more attuned to her feelings than he did, which made him wonder just how much Bailey knew about the subject of love. "Remind me to have that talk with you real soon," he said and continued on his way to the coffee maker.

  "If you're referring to the sex talk, Mom beat you to it."

  Now he was really worried. "And just what did your mother tell you about the relationship between a man and a woman? Never mind, I don't want to know." He set his coffee cup down on the counter without even taking a sip. "I've got to get to work. If you don't have any plans for lunch you can join Jo and me. I'll be by to pick you up around noon." Without even waiting for an answer, he left the house.

  *****

  As soon as Austin got to the office he sent Deputy Pendergrass to Portland with the names Jo had given him of the motel clerk and the woman who worked for Hertz. He had meant to have them checked out yesterday as she had suggested, but when the call came in about another body being found, he'd forgotten about it. He had, however, remembered to call and check with the detective working on the composite sketch with Amy Fugate, and had been informed they were to finish up this morning and that he would fax it to him.

  His mind drifted back to Jo. With everything that'd gone on yesterday, he'd forgotten to ask how things went with her mother. Since she hadn't mentioned it either, he feared things hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped. He wondered how the estrangement with her family would play into their future relationship.

  The fact that Jo hadn't verbally expressed her love for him troubled him. He'd thought once he expressed his feelings she would also, but that hadn't been the case. Maybe he was going too fast for her? She had a full plate as it was, especially now that the killer had targeted her. Figuring she had enough on her mind he decided to just take one day at time.

  Austin had just started going over the passenger lists that had arrived the day before when Walt buzzed him on the intercom and announced there was a fax coming in. Hoping it was the sketch he'd been expecting from Portland, he went to retrieve it. He waited with anticipation for it to finish printing out, praying this was the break for which he'd been hoping. With the publication of Jo's profile and now the sketch, with the help of the public, the killer was within their reach.

  His excitement faded though as he took the fax and peered down at the black and white composite of the man Amy Fugate had identified as the killer. The man looked remarkably like Jo's brother.

  "He looks just like Billy McDaniels," Walt commented from behind, confirming Austin's opinion.

  "Oh man. I knew I should have gotten a sketch artist from the bureau," Austin said, wishing now he'd gone with his first instinct.

  "We can't give that to the papers, boss. Billy will have a fit, and I can only imagine what Jo's reaction will be."

  Having witnessed her wrath, he smiled. "Yeah, she's liable to drive to Portland and shoot the guy
that composed it." Austin took the fax with him into his office.

  For the next hour Austin found himself glancing at the sketch off and on, a gnawing sensation growing in his gut. Not only did Billy McDaniels fit the physical description of the killer, he'd gone to medical school, worked near the airport, had a violent temper, and Jo herself had described him as being somewhat of a ladies man. 'No. It's just not possible.' He'd known Billy McDaniels for two years; until Jo came to town he'd never heard the man raise his voice. Bailey babysat his kid's for heaven's sake.

  Jo's description of the killer played in his mind. 'He's going to be someone you never thought capable of killing. The guy next door.'

  Austin picked up the phone and dialed the number of Jason Marx, the detective who'd handled the missing person's report on Suzanne Reynolds. Going by Jo's profile, that their guy killed his victims at his place in Portland and then transported their bodies here, he requested a check on gas, electric and phone records under Billy's name and driver's license number which he had brought up from DMV. He then ran his name through NCIC, hoping for a set of prints to compare to the ones they had. Just as he figured though, Billy McDaniels didn't have a criminal record on file.

  Austin stared at the sketch again. The man's blank expression prompted memories of the last time he'd talked to Billy. It was at Slim's party. Not only had he spoken unfavorably of Jo, there'd been a noticeable resentment towards her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Slim switched off with Walt midmorning, and having no plans for lunch, Jo invited him to join them, figuring the more, the merrier. However, that myth proved to be wrong almost from the moment Austin picked them up. Jo could tell from his guarded greeting, he wasn't in the same mood he was in when they'd talked earlier that morning.

  "Is everything okay?" she asked the moment they sat down at the only empty table at Bertha's.

  "Yeah, I'm fine." The smile that followed was an improvement, and when he reached across the table and took her hand, she felt further at ease.