“Indeed. I believe that is exactly what he was trying to accomplish. Look at the level of detail, right down to the way the newspaper is staged.”
The detective’s eyes swung up to him, and he saw the moment the guy clued in. “He had access to the crime scene photographs.”
He nodded. Or the killer had a damn good memory, but after six years? Doubtful.
The detective leaned in and whispered, “This means he’s law enforcement.”
“Not necessarily. He could have accessed the photographs through any number of channels, but it is an avenue I don’t want to overlook.”
“I wouldn’t want to be you. If you start down that path, it could get ugly.”
“Uglier than a serial killer?”
“Hey, Bundy was a pretty boy, but you know what I’m talking about. Tracking someone with this type of moxie, a person who flaunts his kills in law enforcement’s face? It is going to get ugly. But earlier you said this guy fell off the map. Why is he back? How could he have tracked this woman to New Orleans if he wasn’t law enforcement?”
“Good question. She had practically no footprint. I’ve been keeping tabs on her for the last six years. How the killer found her is beyond me at the moment.”
“Why wait six years?”
“Another good question, detective.”
“Yeah, I like to think I’m full of them.” The guy chuckled and leaned back. “So, tell me what you need from me. I’ve been told you are my only concern, which I’m going to tell you pissed me the fuck off… at least until I saw this.” He nodded at the pictures.
“Better to be pissed off than pissed on, my good detective.” He picked up the photos and slid them back into his case. “I need access to both of the cases you are running on the crime scene. I have a plan, but in order for me to execute it, I need to speak with Deacon Long. I’m told he hasn’t left Brenner’s bedside since she was admitted. According to my last update, she has not regained consciousness.”
“Deacon Long?” The detective gave a small whistle. “You know how to pick the important ones don’t you?”
He lifted a brow. He’d read the brief background his people were able to give him on Long. Professional football player, blew out his knee and currently at the helm of a successful business.
“My man, you didn’t know?”
“Obviously not, Detective Delacroix.”
“It’s Remí. If I’m going working up close and personal with you, you might as well call me by my given name. Deacon Long is a big man in this town. He built three of the new buildings down there right by the Superdome, just off the French quarter. He’s brought in countless jobs to the city. The guy has single-handedly revitalized the area. If he’s involved with your victim, the mayor is going to be so far up your ass he'll know what you had for lunch, and I ain’t even kidding. I would not want to be you.”
“Well Remí, I think I just found a new mission for you, in addition to being my conduit to the case.”
The guy crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and what is that?”
“You are going to be my liaison to the mayor. His personal point of contact.”
“Why would you wanna do me like that, beau-frère? What did I ever do to you?”
He laughed. The man’s accent, Cajun, he believed, was unique and pronounced when he laid it on thick. The unique sound made his whining about the case funny. “Beau-frère?”
“Cajun for stepbrother.”
“The last time I checked, I was an only child.” Gabriel lifted an eyebrow and continued. “Don’t worry, detective, I’ll give you high cover and enough clout that the mayor will be kissing your ass to get to me. Sound good?”
The man cocked his head. “Well, now it does.”
“Good. Now, we track down Deacon Long.”
Chapter 8
“I’m impressed with myself.” Anna stood with her hands on her hips. She’d sent Nathan downstairs to the gift shop and had him bring up two bouquets of flowers. The blinds that had shrouded the room with darkness were now open and let the sun into the room. The nurses had brought in two more blankets, and Anna had layered them over her friend. She’d also snuck a small radio into the room and had country music playing low in the background. The sounds of the ward and the rhythmic beeps and bleats of the monitoring equipment used on the floor still punctuated the room, but overall, she’d lightened the atmosphere. The depressive and sorrow-filled aura had dissipated. Getting better required positive thinking and hope, not the bleak darkness that had been lurking in this room when she’d arrived.
“It looks better in here.” Deacon’s deep rumbling voice spun her around.
“Right? Don’t worry. I’ve got this. You need to go over there and eat. Nathan just left to check back in at the office.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Oh, okay. Then you go ahead and play the stoic hero and don’t eat. Get sick and not be here for her. I can understand one hundred percent how that would play into your overall game plan. You have those, right? Nathan told me you played football, so you have to have a game plan. You athletes are all the same. Train for an event and then go out on game day and do your very best. So, I can see why starving your body and mind will benefit her. Yeah, I totally get that.” She once again braced her hands on her hips and cocked her head at the man in front of her.
“Has anybody ever told you that you’re–”
“Bossy. Yeah, and I don’t know why they’d think that.”
“No, obnoxious was the word I was going to use.”
She blinked at him and then laughed. “Obnoxious? You think I’m obnoxious now? Oh, honey, you don’t have a clue what obnoxious is. I'm so sweet right now, my teeth hurt from all the sugar-coated words coming out of my mouth.”
“Sugar-coated?”
She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. “I think we should make an appointment to get your ears checked. You don’t hear too well, do you? You're always repeating my words. They have those new hearing aids now that fit right in the ear, and you can hardly see them. The unit that amplifies the sound is hidden behind the ear. I’d let your hair grow a bit if the audiologist says you need them.”
Deacon blinked at her. Damn, the guy needed sleep, because he was no fun to make fun of right now. She pointed to the chair, the table, and the tray of food with plastic covers over them. “Food. Now.”
The creases in his brow deepened. He dropped his duffle and glared at her as he passed the table of food and made his way to Jackie’s bedside. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her forehead, carefully brushing her hair from her brow. “You brushed her hair.”
“I did. Dry shampooed it too. It’s a thing. Works wonders in a hospital setting. I brought it with me on the plane.”
“She talks about you a lot. Calls you Hurricane Anna. I can see why.”
“Awww… shucks, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” She glanced around the room and nodded to herself. “How about this. You eat what’s on that tray Nathan brought in, and I’ll leave. I can grab a cab to my hotel and get a shower and a nap. Then I’ll come back. That will allow you to get up and stretch. I know you aren’t going to leave her. I’ve asked the nurses to scrounge you up a bed. It will be a hospital bed, but this room is big enough for two. We can put you right here, and you’ll be close. You can actually sleep lying down. REM sleep is also a thing, or so I hear.”
“Would it do any good for me to say no?”
“See, you are smart! I knew Jackie wouldn’t be attracted to someone who couldn’t challenge her intellectually. Has she done that number thing for you? No? Give her any set of four numbers and tell her to multiply it by another four numbers. She will spit out the answer, just like a calculator. I could have used her in college. Seriously, it would have made chemistry so much easier. Oh, and that one accounting class I had to take. Gawd, I would have aced it if I could do that type of stuff in my head.” She walked over and picked up her purse. “You need to eat that food. Don’t go
getting on my bad side now. I just figured out I kinda like you, so don’t ruin that, okay?” Anna stopped at the door and leveled a stare at Jackie’s man.
“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah.” She pointed at the table. “All of it, or I’m never going to leave again.”
“I’m suddenly starving.”
“That’s the room.” Detective Delacroix pointed across the hall.
“How long has she been unconscious?”
“As far as I know she hasn't come out of it, so three nights, four days. The last time I was here, she’d just come up from the surgical unit. She didn’t spend much time there. They set her leg and put her shoulder back into its socket. The leg took hardware; the shoulder was just a relocation. We asked the hospital to let us know when she was ready to be interviewed. They haven’t called the detectives assigned to her case. The doc we talked to didn’t know if she would have any lasting damage from the near asphyxiation.” Remí pointed to the door again.
He trailed the detective, a sense of déjà vu blasting through his mind. This time Jacqueline Brenner had someone else standing beside her bed, and not the sassy nurse who’d made an indelible mark on him. Anna Harriger. The vivacious, quirky woman held his attention because she was so unlike anyone else he’d ever met. He'd called several times after he returned to D.C., but they'd never been able to meet again. The one time he was in Denver for an extended period, she was in Utah at her parent's thirtieth wedding anniversary. She made it to D.C. once with her brother, but he’d been overseas. They drifted out of contact. Call it bad timing, busy lives, or hell—fate—but he’d always wondered what had happened to her.
When he walked into the room, he immediately noted the double blankets tucked over Jacqueline’s feet. He eyed the room, his senses alert.
Remí’s voice was low and quiet. “Mr. Long, I’m Detective Delacroix, and this is Mr. Gabriel. He’s a fed.”
The man stood and extended his hand. Exhaustion etched the man’s features. “Why are the feds involved?”
He took his hand and shook it. “Are you aware of Ms. Brenner’s past, Mr. Long? Specifically, the reason she left Denver?”
The big man winced. “Yeah, she was attacked. The guy was never caught.”
He held his gaze steadily and waited for the man to understand.
Long’s eyes widened, and his head began to move from side to side. “No. No. I… you think that bastard is involved in this?”
Long swung to Delacroix. “Your people said this was probably a mugging gone bad.”
“That was our investigator's assumption, but Mr. Gabriel brought us some information we didn’t have. I took a peek and, Mr. Long, I happen to agree with him.”
“We now believe the man who attacked her in Denver six years ago has resurfaced.” Or a copycat. He wouldn’t introduce that possibility in front of Long, but he and Delacroix would need to run that logic trail concurrent with this investigation. He wouldn’t discount anything at this point.
“Why? Why would you assume that?”
“We have evidence to suggest he restaged the Denver crime scene,” Gabriel said.
The big man turned pale and slowly sat down in the tiny plastic chair he’d occupied when he and Remí first entered the room. The guy scrubbed his face and groaned. “Do we need a guard on the door?”
“I’ve called district dispatch. A uniform will be here before we leave. Someone will be outside that door until she’s ready to go home. I’ll also increase the patrol coverage in the immediate area.”
Remí’s gaze traveled the still form of Jacqueline Brenner. He shook his head and clenched his jaw. “She’s a fighter, but he was stronger, wasn’t he?”
That had been his gut reaction, also. The bastard had brutalized her.
“What happens when Jackie is ready to be released?” Long reached over and gently grasped Jacqueline’s hand.
“That’s where I come in. I have a game plan, and if you agree, we can make sure she’s safe.”
The guy’s laugh contained no humor. “A game plan. Damn. Twice in one day. Yeah, I need one for this. What are you suggesting, Mr. Gabriel?
He glanced at Jacqueline. His jaw tightened as Remí’s had. “It’s just Gabriel. I was on the original case. When the bastard stopped and then didn’t strike again, I was pulled from working it. Jackie and the other victims deserve justice.”
“Other victims?” Long blanched. “You mean he’s done this before?”
“I believe we may be looking for a serial killer,” Gabriel confirmed.
“Dear God.” Deacon Long pulled Jackie’s hand to his lips and pressed them to the back of her hand. He glanced up at him. “I want facts. I want a plan, and I don’t care how much it fucking takes. You catch this bastard. You take him out.”
“I promise you, Deacon, I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. This case and your lady are my sole purpose for being here, and I will bring to bear every resource available to find this bastard.” Taking this motherfucker out was at the top of his list.
Deacon Long stared at him long and hard before he stood again. “Let’s talk.” He pointed to the small table.
“I’ll wait outside for the uniform. I want to get the lay of the land before he shows up. You good here?” Delacroix glanced at him as he spoke.
“I’ve got this portion.”
Delacroix studied Jackie one last time before he leveled a stare at Deacon and smiled at Gabriel. “I’ll be back.” Without a backward glance, the detective left the room.
He took a seat in one of the small chairs. “How is she?”
“She’s trying to wake up now. The docs kept her sedated for a couple days. They were concerned... The bastard beat her…” Long’s fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. “I know what he did before. I hired a private investigator. He got me the facts. She won’t talk about it, and I can’t blame her. Shit, the hell she lived through. She still has nightmares, sometimes. If I find that bastard, I’ll tear him apart. I’ll kill him. So help me, I’ll kill the motherfucker.
He echoed Long’s sentiment. “I want to get her out of here as soon as possible. Once the doctors say she can be moved, I want to take her to a location we can control. There are at least fifty points of entrance and egress here. The patrolman at the door will work short term, but we want her safe.”
“Agreed. I live on the top floor of the Longline building. She lives in one of the apartments on the sixteenth floor. We’ve been slowly moving her stuff up to my apartment. I’ll give you keys to both places.”
“Who else has keys to the apartments?”
He took out his notebook.
“My secretary, Maggie. Nathan Harriger has a key, he’s my Senior Vice President, my closest friend, and has been with me for years. The custodial staff has keys, and I would guess building maintenance.”
“Have they been vetted?” he asked as he wrote.
“I have no idea what that means.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He made a notation on his pad before he glanced at Long. The man was staring at the woman in the bed. He saw the love the guy had for Jackie. He approved of her choice in boyfriends. If he could catch this bastard, she could have a good life. He needed to catch him before Long because he had no doubt the big man would make good on his threat. Jackie and Long deserved a life together which wouldn’t happen if Long was in jail. “Do you have a tally of who has access to your office building?”
Long shook his head, his eyes still on the hospital bed. “The office building is open to the public.”
“Does the public need access for your business to continue?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” Long’s gaze swung to him.
“If I set up a security checkpoint on the ground floor and made everyone go through it, would that impede your business? Appointments would be screened through security; people would be monitored in and out of the facility. We’d set up another checkpoint belo
w the executive offices. Do you have a private elevator for those floors?”
“I have a private elevator. All of the senior executives and their staff use it, though.”
“Not anymore. With your permission, when my teams arrive, I’m going to go to your building, pull the fire alarm, and get everyone out. I want to scrub the access points of that building from top to bottom. We can do it quickly. I’d like to control access to the facility and, specifically, access to your offices and apartments. We’ll try not to interfere with the day to day, but the learning curve for us, your people, and your clients will be steep. Not going to lie to you. It might not go smoothly at first. Change always brings stress.
“Do whatever you need to do. Call Nathan and Maggie. They’ll give you what you need.”
“Nathan Harringer, what is his number?”
“Not Harringer. H-a-r-r-i-g-e-r.” Long rattled off a local number, but Gabriel fixated on the last name. He glanced at the blankets on the bed and frowned. Stupid leaps of deduction based on a hook up from six years ago. Jackie’s case had brought back memories he’d long thought buried.
“Something wrong?”
“No. Your Senior Vice President has an unusual last name.”
“If you say so. My secretary is Maggie Devereaux.”
Gabriel nodded and jotted down the information Long was reciting.
“Depending on the arrival of my teams, we’ll try to arrange the security scrub for this weekend. You should probably think about vetting your staff, particularly those who access the executive offices on a routine basis.”
Gabriel (Guardian Defenders Book 1) Page 7