by Syd Parker
“Agents Gray and Riley, this fat ass stuffing his damn face, is my partner, Rick Jones.” She nodded towards the agents. “It would seem the overly generous FBI has offered some assistance in tracking down our serial killer.”
Rick nodded swiftly with none of the censures that Rebecca had given them. Jordan nodded, and as Matt stepped forward to offer a quick, conciliatory handshake, she took a moment to study him. His suit was dated, and she could see telltale signs of forgotten grease stains on his shirt. His tie hung haphazardly. His hair, a few weeks past a haircut, hung over his collar. His face was lined with the deep crevasses of someone who had seen a great deal, and been through a lot more, and she couldn’t swear to it, but would almost bet there was a flash of welcome relief in his eyes at help from the outside. Obviously not married or dating, she thought he fit the stereotype for a hardened old cop.
He smiled warmly, and Jordan was forced to amend her take on him. He pumped Matt’s hand up and down as though they were lifelong friends, and Jordan half expected to see him pull Matt into a bear hug. Where Detective Foxx was cold and unapproachable, Detective Jones was the polar opposite. She saw the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she was forced to admit that this was a man who smiled a lot.
He held up a box. “You guys want breakfast?”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened. It was one thing to be civil. It was an entirely different thing to offer her squad’s breakfast to the enemy. He reddened at the apparent faux pas, but couldn’t take back the offer. Jordan and Matt saved him from further embarrassment when they politely declined. Jordan figured the poor guy probably already had it bad enough without them making it worse.
Jordan’s gaze met Rebecca’s inquisitive one, and she faltered, wondering what Rebecca saw in her eyes. The corner of her mouth turned up as if to say I can see inside you.
Rebecca answered with another roll of her eyes. “Let’s get to it. Jonesy?”
They had obviously been together long enough that he needed no explanation. He pulled a large whiteboard towards them and flipped it around.
It was covered with the autopsy pictures of the six previous victims, all marked with a date. The only difference was that Julie’s picture was one of her still alive, and yet, despite the fact that she had survived, Jordan still flinched at the sight. Detachment was one of the ways she dealt with crime, and this case didn’t allow for that. It reached inside her soul with a cold hand.
Rebecca waited until they pulled chairs up and sat down. “This is what we have so far. First murder happened in June, 2009. Kate Stevenson. Twenty-seven year old white female. Second, in December of 2009. Amy Perez. Thirty-three year old Hispanic female.” She pointed at each victim and provided their vital stats. “All pregnant, and in each case, the MO was identical, down to taking the baby. Jonesy?”
Rick jumped at her voice. It was obvious they had been together a long time, and in those years, he had come to know her very well and could probably read her mind, a valuable asset in a partner. He pulled a folder out. “Autopsies haven’t helped much. Best guess, we are looking for someone tall, five-ten to six-two, buck fifty to buck seventy tops. Whoever this guy is, he’s not heavy, but he is really strong. All of the women had injuries consistent with being restrained and forcibly raped. Not easy when you’ve got a knife in one hand and the other pinned over her mouth. The guy is methodical though, and the MO is the same in every case. He grabs them, throws them down and slits their throat before he rapes them, ensuring they bleed out quickly. Those are all done rather carelessly. However, the incision in their stomachs is different. It’s almost as if he takes his time to make sure he doesn’t hurt the baby in the process. The cuts are very clean, and there’s no sign that he makes them quickly or in anger. Guy’s a monster who hates women, but loves kids. Weird.”
Jordan stepped closer. She studied each woman’s face and the photos from each crime scene. “Any similarities, I mean besides the obvious?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Pregnant. The only other link is they are all lesbians.”
“Hate crime?”
“We thought so at first, but we believe the nature of the crime is directed more at the pregnancy then at the sexual orientation.”
“Did you look into the area anti-gay groups?”
“Very thoroughly. We interviewed dozens of people and got nothing. The only lead we had was a link to the sperm bank they had all used. Unfortunately, everyone that was associated with the clinic had solid alibis and no motive for murder, almost all the employees were female, we had to rule that out.”
“What about someone else, even someone remotely connected with the clinic?” Jordan rubbed her chin. “Janitor? Tech? Delivery guy? Anyone?”
Rebecca exhaled loudly. “The CDD was very thorough in its investigation, Agent Gray. Believe me, we exhausted every possible angle, and we had nothing but dead ends. The attack on Julie Keppler was the first real break we got.”
Jordan smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you hadn’t done your job.”
“Yes, you did, whether that was your intention or not.” Rebecca bit back. “We’ve logged hundreds of hours on this case. I don’t need some cocky FBI agent coming in and questioning the work we’ve done.”
She pointed at the board angrily. “These women haunt me every day. I don’t need to be reminded, that up until now, we’ve made no real headway in catching the killer.”
“Again, I’m sorry, Detective. I know the CDD has done what they can. We’re just here to offer whatever help we can.” Jordan offered a conciliatory smile. “And you’re right, I’m way too cocky for my own good.”
She met Rebecca’s blazing green eyes. She knew in that second that she did not want this woman mad at her. She couldn’t risk getting herself and Matt thrown out on their asses. Susan wouldn’t take failure in this case, not when it involved her wife. Jordan scrambled to find something to smooth things over and almost hugged Rick when he jumped in to save her.
“Agent Gray, you have to understand that this case has been one of the most difficult ones we’ve ever been up against.” He met Rebecca’s eyes, and in a move that surprised them all, nodded towards a chair. She gave in reluctantly. Obviously, this barely put together detective had the ability to calm her when no one else did and Jordan thanked him silently. “What Detective Foxx means is that we’ve lost a lot of sleep over this case and not being any closer to catching the guy hits you in the gut. Forgive us, if we take things a little personally around here.”
Jordan shook her head from side to side. “It’s my fault.” She lowered her eyes from Rebecca’s glaring gaze ruefully. “I know what it’s like to have someone question how you do your job. Thank you for sharing your case files with us. We’ll get out of your hair now.”
Jordan grabbed Matt and started to leave. She turned back and met Rebecca’s gaze, once again looking inside her. “Whatever we can do to help, please let me know. You have my promise that even though our intrusion is off the record, you will have the full resources of the FBI.”
Rebecca nodded her headed slightly, a small sign that for the first time she might appreciate the help. “Thank you, Agent Gray.”
Chapter 4
Jordan knocked on the door leading into Julie’s room. She met Susan’s eyes, giving her a slight nod to let her know that she and Matt had already met with the CDD already. She didn’t take the folder with case notes out of her jacket for fear that it would upset Julie. “Assistant Director Mitchell.”
Susan’s wary eyes met hers, and she could see they were red-rimmed. “Susan, please. We’re outside the office.”
“Susan.” Jordan’s voice was decidedly low, given the sterile and ominous surroundings. She gestured towards Julie, who was still under heavy sedatives. “How is she?”
Susan stood up and rolled her shoulders. The ache that had started when her partner had been attacked hadn’t stopped. She wasn’t sleeping, and it showed. “Resting, finally. She�
�s been having nightmares.”
“As expected.” Jordan rested her hand on Susan’s arm. She met her eyes, not masking the concern in her own. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ve been better.” Susan shrugged. “I’m sure when the shock wears off, and I finally sit down, it will all hit me. I’m certain I’ll fall apart then.”
“Call me if you do. We’ll talk.” Jordan’s voice carried her concern. She suddenly felt closer to Susan, as if they were friends, and she wasn’t her subordinate. They would return to that when protocol dictated, but for now, Jordan knew Susan needed a friend more than a coworker.
Susan let herself feel anger for a few brief moments then her body grew tight and Jordan felt her pull away, physically and mentally. Her eyes flicked to Julie then back again, satisfied she was still asleep. “Did you get any leads from the CDD?”
Jordan shook her head. “Not here. Let me get you a cup of coffee. There’s a Starbucks right around the corner. You look like you could use a break.”
Susan looked as though she might resist, but her weariness got the better of her. “A quick one, okay?”
Jordan nodded her acquiescence. “Fifteen minutes.”
They rode the elevator in silence and didn’t talk again until they were seated at a corner table, nursing Venti coffees. Jordan pulled the folder out of her jacket and slid it on to the table in front of Susan.
Susan eyed it suspiciously and raised an eyebrow in Jordan’s direction. “This is it?”
“It’s not much to go on, I know. I’m hoping that Julie can give us at least a somewhat decent description of the UNSUB.”
Susan scanned the file quickly. The tips of her ears reddened as she read, the only sign that her ire was raising with every sentence. She finally shut the file and leaned back in her chair. “He’s a fucking monster.” She ran a hand through her unruly hair. She looked like she hadn’t slept or showered in days. She leveled Jordan with her gaze, hints of helplessness juxtaposed by seething anger. “I want him dead.”
“Is that my boss or my friend talking?” Jordan saw the mixed emotions in her eyes. “I know this is personal, but I need to know.”
Susan shook her head. “I can’t answer that. My heart wants this bastard dead for what he took from me, from Julie. I know he should rot in prison for his crimes, but why should he get to live when my baby is dead?”
Jordan watched the tears well in her eyes. Susan was making it even more difficult to keep her distance from the case. She was already too close to it. She needed to get that emotion under control, so she didn’t make a mistake. “I’m sorry, Susan. I’m so sorry for your loss. I won’t sit here and say that I know what you are going through. However, I will promise you today, we will get him, dead or alive.”
Susan saw the understanding in Jordan’s eyes. “I know you will. That’s why I asked you to do this for me.” Her eyes dropped, and she rolled her cup around in her hands. “I know that I don’t have to tell you what I want.”
Jordan shook her head from side to side. Susan didn’t need to tell her that officially or unofficially, it didn’t matter. She wanted him to suffer and eventually die. If asked on an official basis, both knew they would never say those words out loud. They would swear only to catch him and having faith in the justice system. Neither one would ever voice anything other than blind faith in the law. “No, you don’t.”
“How did the Detective treat you?”
“Alright.” Jordan smiled ruefully, her mind going back to yesterday’s encounter. “She did make it quite clear that she didn’t give a rat’s ass that we were FBI, and her only reason for cooperating in the least, was her desire to catch this bastard. She’s ballsy. She might be the best person to have taken the case. I don’t see her giving up.”
“I guess if she doesn’t put up with your shit, she won’t let anyone run over her.” A hint of a smile played on Susan’s face. Whatever their relationship, the two women had a lot of respect for each other. Jordan knew any teasing from her boss was because she genuinely liked her.
“Hey, she didn’t fall for Matty, either.” Jordan said defensively. She wasn’t sure why it mattered that Detective Foxx had shot her down. She tried to tell herself to take the rejection and move on, but her thoughts had returned to the hot redhead more times than she was comfortable admitting.
“Don’t get sidetracked, Gray.” Susan said sternly. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, but Jordan knew from the throwback to her last name that Susan wasn’t joking, and she wouldn’t be stupid enough to blow this case because she couldn’t keep her libido in check.
Jordan fidgeted in her chair. “I won’t, Assistant Dir…”
Susan waived a hand dismissively. “Jordan, please. I know I’m asking a lot for you and Matty to do this on your own time. I hope I’m not asking too much.”
“You aren’t.” Jordan shook her head. Her eyes turned cold. “I want him just as badly as you do.”
Susan gulped the remaining coffee and set the cup on the table. “I need to get back.” She stood up, her eyes telling Jordan to stay seated. She tapped a finger on the file and met Jordan’s eyes. “I’ll call you when Julie feels like talking. I’m not sure if she got a look at him. It was pretty dark. However, maybe she can remember something.”
Jordan watched her walk away; her shoulders huddled against the wind. Her heart went out to her boss. Her partner was safe, albeit hurt, but they had lost their baby. She hoped that the wounds she couldn’t see would heal with time.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed a number and waited. When he finally picked up, she smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey, boss.”
Jordan smiled again. His moniker for her made her smiled every time. She wasn’t his boss. In fact, he had shown her more than once that if anyone were boss, it was him. She stood up and stuck the file under her arm. “You busy?”
“Nah. What’s up?”
She could hear his gravelly voice and wondered how he was as healthy as he was when he smoked like a chimney. It seemed almost illegal that her trainer was in better shape than she was, given her strict diet and exercise regimen. The only vice she allowed herself, besides cars and women, was alcohol. She figured she was going to die one day, might as well let liver failure take a shot at her. “You up for some sparring?”
“Yeah, sure.” She could hear him talking to a voice in the background, decidedly female, and she chuckled. It was obvious she was interrupting some sparring already. “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll meet you there.”
“Sure thing.” She ended the call and shoved her phone back in her pocket. She cinched her collar up around her neck in a vain attempt to block the wind. “Fucking cold weather.”
She didn’t realize she’d sworn out loud until a fellow pedestrian glared at her and tried to cover her son’s ears. “Sorry.” Only she wasn’t remorseful. The kid probably heard worse in school anyway.
She crossed Michigan and headed back towards Mercy Medical. She was illegally parked in an unloading zone in front of the hospital and figured her fifteen minutes was passed being over. She increased the speed of her stride. The wind blowing off the lake was the coldest of the season, and she shivered uncontrollably.
She spotted her car and rolled her eyes at the pink ticket flapping under the wipers. She ripped it off her car and wadded it up, her irritation making her want to toss it on the ground to prove a point, but instead she shoved it in her pocket and got in her cold car. It turned over reluctantly, wanting to make a point that it didn’t want to work in this weather any more than she did. She proved her own point and sped away from the parking lot before the engine had a chance to warm up and let it whine in protest.
A half an hour later, she was strapping on gloves, waiting for her trainer to show up. She threw several blind punches in the air, feeling the muscles in her shoulders start to warm up. She moved slower in the winter, or maybe she was just getting old. Thirty-six wasn’t exactly old, but lately she felt
it. The last few years had snuck up on her and a quick look in the room-length mirrors confirmed her suspicions. The wrinkles were starting to show.
She ran a finger over the laugh lines around her eyes and lifted her eyebrows, groaning at the creases on her forehead. “Ahh fuck, Gray. Don’t let one crazy redhead make you feel old.”
A loud chuckle from across the room got her attention, and she spun around to see Tony laughing at her. Tony Wozniak, or Woz to his close friends. Retired FBI, at fifty-eight, the man looked better than most guys half his age. “See what women will do to you.”
“Hey, Woz. How come it hasn’t happened to you?” Jordan smiled and punched him in the shoulder.
“Whiskey and maybe cigarettes. All the preservatives.” Tony was the father she never had. Her own father had abandoned her mother years before, and most times, unless she thought long and hard, she couldn’t even remember what he looked like. Tony had taken her under his wing long before she joined the FBI. In fact, there had been a time when she thought that maybe he and her mother might like each other.
His proclivity for women and smoking changed her mind rather quickly. Her mother, God bless her soul, didn’t need another man coming into her life and leaving just as fast.
She watched him pull on his own gloves. He punched one hand into the other to make sure they were tight then repeated the process on the other hand. “You ready, kiddo?”
Jordan nodded, her feet already dancing on the pad below her. She put her mouth guard in and waited while he did the same.
She watched his eyes, admiration in them. She was cagey and a good boxer to boot. She could feel his respect for her. Their sparring matches usually ended in some well-placed punches on both sides, but more often than not, he could still take her. She thought back to her childhood and wondered if she hadn’t wandered into this very gym twenty years ago, if her life would have taken the same course.