“Four months.” Ben repeated. The unsub was patient, making it unlikely they’d catch him in a mistake.
“The timeline is consistent for handcrafting an intricate custom-fitted gown. Miss Ballard’s measurements are on file with Annabelle Taglioni, the designer for the Hear Me Roar tour. Lucy penetrated their firewall in seconds. She assures me it would not require particular skill.”
“Any idea on this guy’s powers?” Ben asked.
“There are too many possibilities for certainty. It is likely a psychic ability, but it could be a projective talent, or one requiring physical contact. Is he aware of his gifts, or does he attribute his success to skill and luck? We will continue to research, and narrow the options.” Adler ended the call.
“Always a pleasure.” Ray shook his head. “What’s the plan?”
“Five more cases.” Murders not included in the FBI’s records, even though the DNA matched.
Ray checked on his tablet. “Here they are. Karina Richards, stabbed in the alley behind a diner. Haley Underwood, shot in her car. Patricia Rains, stabbed outside her apartment building. Josephine Zimmer, strangled beside her car. And Tunisha Glaus, shot at a bus stop.”
“No consistent MO. It’s not the death which matters, it’s what he does afterward.” Ben’s gaze automatically searched the stage.
Katie and Aggi were stretching in unison. She was beautiful, vibrantly alive, and animated. He won’t do that to you. I won’t give him the chance.
Ray paged through the screens, scanning quickly. “Why were these ladies deemed unworthy of his immortalization? There’s no record of any letters in their files.”
“Their families and local police might not have realized the letters were significant.” Ben kept his voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear. “The women could have failed some critical test. The more significant question is why wouldn’t Orlund include them in his case files?”
“He’s obsessed,” Ray said quietly. “And not inclined to rational decisions.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s no reason.” The answer hovered outside Ben’s mind’s reach. Damnit, think! Why?
He closed his eyes, and put himself in Orlund’s perspective. I’m a respected agent in the FBI, considered one of the top. Before his paths crossed with the unsub, Orlund had been on a career fast-track. I get assigned to a suspected serial killer case. I meet Ashley Gilpin, who is receiving letters.
His eyes snapped open. “Did he tell Ashley what the unsub does to his targets?”
There was silence while his partner checked the records. “He doesn’t mention it.”
Ben kept his eyes closed despite the temptation to check on Katie. He needed to stay in Orlund’s point of view. I knew what was at stake. I enter into a relationship with her, even though I know it could end in tragedy. Orlund’s feelings must have been overpowering.
The parallels were uncomfortably similar. Ben’s teeth ground together from the emotional maelstrom spinning in his mind.
That’s it. Orlund would have experienced the same emotional overload. If Ben wanted insight into Orlund’s actions, he only needed to imagine how he would feel if he failed to protect Katie.
His lungs froze, refusing to inhale or exhale. His knees threatened to drop him to the ground, and the pain inside him roared to escape by any means possible.
“Are you okay?”
Ben used the question to move past the paralyzing anguish. “Orlund wants the unsub dead.”
“It’s hard to blame him. I’d feel the same in his shoes.” Ray put down the tablet.
His partner didn’t see it. Ray’s life was much fuller than either Ben’s or Orlund’s. Their lives were defined by their careers. They caught the bad guys, and saved the victims. Except the one time it counted.
I don’t have to guess what Orlund would have done. I know exactly what I would do if the unsub got to Katie. Ben had already lived through one life-devastating blow. He wouldn’t survive a second. He wouldn’t care about anything except killing the unsub.
His fist clenched. “This is more than vengeance. Orlund will accept any collateral damage if it takes out the man who killed Ashley.”
~ ~ ~
Even with construction-rated ear protectors and an earbud radio link, the noise of the concert threatened to deafen Ben. He kept scanning the stage and the crowd, searching for any sign of the unsub. He noticed Orlund talking to the security agents, and frowned. The FBI agent had been unusually quiet since they found the bracelet. The change in his demeanor made Ben suspicious.
Wailing guitars screeched, and fiery explosions announced the start of the grand finale. Ben thumbed his radio. “Ray, do you have eyes on Katie?”
“For the hundredth time, yes. Do you want to switch sides, so you can see her?” Ray asked.
Yes. “No.” If he could see her, he would watch her, and miss everything else.
“The show is almost over. I don’t think he’s coming tonight.”
Ben scanned backstage again, restless to do something besides watch and wait. “This is a prime opportunity for the unsub. Everyone is distracted, with their attention split between their tasks, and anticipation of finishing for the night.”
“I’m watching with the keen eyes of a man who doesn’t want to get beaten up by his partner. I promise.”
Ben paced in the wings. Dancers were waiting for their cues, men and women in dark shirts and pants were scurrying around, carrying boxes, cables, and other bits of unidentified gear. Everyone wore their employee ID prominently around their necks.
It should be safe, but the back of his neck still itched with tension. If something went wrong, Katie was on the far side of the stage. He’d have to dash across before he could get her to safety. Ray will take care of her, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time.
“I can hear you brooding.” Ray sounded amused.
Ben ignored him. “Orlund, do you have anything?”
“A splitting headache,” the FBI agent grumbled.
Ben spotted him lurking in one of the crew pits. The small enclaves were scattered through the stage, invisible to the audience. His instincts screamed at him to take action, but he couldn’t see any reason for alarm. Something’s not right.
“Talk to me, big guy. What’s going on?” Ray asked.
The dancers ran out to their places.
Ben grimaced, wondering if he’d seen movement behind them, or a paranoia-induced illusion. “Something’s wrong.”
Ray was instantly alert. “What?”
“I don’t know.” Ben couldn’t identify any significant holes in the comprehensive plans they’d drawn up before the concert began. “You can still see her?”
“She’s with the other dancers, walking down the runway to join Aggi.”
The narrow runway was surrounded by eager fans on both sides. Everyone pressed up as close to the stage as physically possible. If someone reached up, they could theoretically yank Katie into the crowd before security could react. Ben’s heart pounded as he watched the knot of performers strutting.
“We should be searching the crowd for the Director, not watching the girl,” Orlund said.
Ben straightened, keeping a firm grip on his anger. “I understand this case is personal for you.”
Orlund seemed to belatedly realize he’d crossed a line.
“This unsub killed three women despite your efforts, one of which you cared for.” Ben’s tone cut deeply despite its apparent mildness. “You resent our methods, which seem irrelevant to you. However, we are here because traditional methods have been insufficient.”
“Fine,” Orlund snarled, making eye contact from the crew pit. “Then tell me what we’ve been missing.”
Ben held the man’s gaze for long seconds before releasing it. This case w
as rapidly becoming too personal for him as well.
“He personifies quiet menace, doesn’t he?” Ray chuckled quietly over the radio. “I’m not quite sure how he does it, especially since he’s also quite accomplished at the growling, muscle-man type of menace. Now, as entertaining as this particular alpha male pissing contest is, there is work to do. I believe our unsub is a psychic.”
The dancers began to flow back up the runway. Every nerve under Ben’s skin crawled in anticipation, but he still couldn’t see the threat.
“Why?” Orlund asked.
“Psychics are the most common occulata,” Ray answered. “He’s slipped past barricades and locks. He’s been in the room, and we haven’t noticed him.”
The muscles along Ben’s spine went rigid. The memory of the video played over in his head. The arm, reaching past Katie. None of them had challenged it. None of them had even noticed the intruder. Could I be looking right at him and not see him? If that was the case, his instincts could be warning him of an overlooked threat. One which had slipped past their precautions.
How do you search for someone you can’t see? Katie was almost back at the main stage.
Ben scanned backstage again automatically, hoping to notice his gaze skipping over a particular part of it. It all seemed perfectly normal. No one out of place. “Fuck it. Ray, get her out of there and into someplace secure.”
“But—”
“Do it now!” He wasn’t sure who made the objection. He didn’t care. He prayed they weren’t already too late.
Chapter 15
As she sang the chorus of the finale, Katie found it harder and harder to keep smiling. The blinding lights felt like hunters’ spotlights, shielding unfriendly eyes while leaving her nowhere to hide. The waving mass of the audience camouflaged a killer, waiting to strike.
A hand closed around her arm. She jumped back, trying to pull free. Her self-defense training snapped into place. Strike to the face first. Next the gut.
She flattened her hand, and jabbed upward. Then she recognized Ray’s face.
Pulling the strike wrenched her shoulder. Ray’s mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t hear him over the shouts, applause and music.
He beckoned, and she followed him offstage, ignoring the dirty looks from the other performers. Luckily, no one in the audience noticed. The crowd screamed for Aggi at the end of the stage, not the dancers in the back.
Once she reached the sound-protected portion of backstage, she yanked out her ear protectors. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Ray replied as they hurried through the maze of gear and costume racks. “Ben told me to pull you out.”
Goosebumps flared along her arms and neck. “Did he see something?”
“If he did, I didn’t see it.” Ray opened her dressing room. “In here.”
She waited by the door while Ray searched every nook and cranny where a person might hide. She held her breath as Ray disappeared behind the dressing screen.
“We’re all clear,” he said.
Katie relaxed, feeling much safer within the cinderblock walls than on stage.
Ray thumbed the microphone for his radio. “Ben, do you have anything?”
She held her breath while he listened to the response.
“Nothing,” Ray reported. “They’re finishing up the encore. No sign of a disturbance.”
She exhaled noisily. Aggi would be down as soon as she finished onstage. With the immediate crisis past, little discomforts crept into her awareness. Her hair extensions pinched her scalp. The costume clung to her, clammy with sweat.
Hurrying behind the dressing screen, she stripped off the spandex bodysuit. A washcloth and the rudimentary sink provided a quick wash before she pulled on her street clothes. She unpinned the extensions, and left everything on the narrow counter. Costume and makeup would be pissed at having to retrieve everything, but Katie didn’t care.
“Katie!” Aggi’s shout came clearly through the door, followed by frantic pounding.
Ray grimaced. “We need to keep this area contained until we hear from Ben and Orlund.”
“If you don’t let her in, she’ll break down the door.” Katie shook out her sweat damp hair.
Ray opened the door, ushered Aggi in, and relocked it immediately.
“I was so scared!” Aggi threw her arms around Katie.
Katie hugged her sister, ignoring the scratchy stiffness of Aggi’s multi-layered wig. She didn’t know what to say. It’s okay would be a lie, but she couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong.
“Let me get out of this crap, and we’ll go to the hotel. Assuming it’s safe?” Aggi glanced at Ray.
“Ben and Orlund are checking everything out,” Ray said. “We should know in a few more minutes.”
“When I turned around, and you weren’t there, I thought the Director had taken you.” Aggi pressed her hand to her chest. “I’ve never been so scared.”
“I’m sorry.” Katie guided her sister to sit in the room’s only chair. She perched on the edge, holding Aggi’s hand.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Her sister bit her lip. “This won’t be our best review. I ran offstage at the end of the encore.”
“What did happen?” Katie lifted her eyes to Ray.
“We were watching closely through the show. Ben and Orlund argued over the radio. Then Ben told me to get you out.” Ray shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
“You didn’t ask why?” Aggi demanded.
Ray’s voice held no humor. “In a crisis, seconds count. I trust my partner, so if he says to move, I’ll move.”
Katie squeezed her sister’s hand, reminding her not to take her frustrations out on Ray.
His hand lifted to his ear. “Ben and Orlund haven’t found anything. They’re coming to us.”
This little room would be crowded, but Katie wasn’t prepared to expose herself outside these walls yet.
Orlund arrived first, muttering about false alarms, and tipping their hands. Ben came in a few seconds later. His eyes met hers, and the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxed.
“I should send you back to Denver for this,” Orlund snarled. “You’ve ruined our best chance to catch the Director.”
Ben ignored the accusation. “There was someone there. We just couldn’t see him. Which means setting a trap will be useless.”
“Even a loocy can’t make himself invisible.” Orlund spat the words.
“Watch it,” Aggi snapped. “I don’t tolerate slurs on my set.”
Ben put his hand flat on the door. “It’s not invisibility. It’s another power, something I’m not familiar with. Telepathy or post-hypnotic suggestion possibly. Something felt wrong during the last two songs before we pulled Katie out. We couldn’t see it consciously. We could only notice it unconsciously.”
Katie shivered at the hint of steel in his voice. One that said I’m explaining, but I won’t take any shit.
“Or you overreacted,” Orlund glared. “Because your dick is thinking for you.”
“Special Agent Orlund.” Fury pulled Katie to her feet. “If you won’t maintain a professional demeanor then I will be reporting this incident to your superiors. Immediately.”
Orlund blinked behind his wire-frame glasses. As if he’d forgotten she was there.
“I’m sorry, Miss Ballard. I’m frustrated that Investigator Morgan’s impetuous actions have placed you in jeopardy.”
His half-assed attempt at saying sorry didn’t appease her. “I’m not the only one you need to apologize to.”
“Tensions are running high for all of us,” Ben said quietly, his eyes fixed on the FBI agent.
A new knock on the door ratcheted the stress-level higher.
“Katie? It’s Sonya.” The
stage manager sounded worried but not panicked. “Razel is looking for you and Aggi.”
“Shit. We promised her an interview.” Aggi frowned. “And we’ll need another venue for the concert footage. The finale for this one will be a mess.”
Ben lifted his head. “Wait. This concert was being filmed? By someone other than Razel?”
“Yes.” Katie stared at the wall to break away from his intense gaze. “Four different cameras were covering the stage.”
“We need that footage. And we need it before it gets uploaded.” Ben’s urgency infected her.
“Sonya, get the memory cards from tonight. Now,” Katie ordered briskly.
“And a laptop computer,” Ben added.
Footsteps hurried away. Katie waited for Ben to explain, but he stayed at the door, his hand braced against it as if personally ready to block any intruder.
“We don’t have time to scan hours of footage.” Orlund glared at them all, arms crossed.
Katie ignored him. Ben remained buried deep in thought. Every few seconds, his eyes flickered toward her. Checking on her.
Sonya returned, bearing four memory cards and a slim black laptop. She aimed a hostile eye at Ben, physically blocking the door. Katie accepted the tiny cards and the computer through the narrow gap.
The stage manager spoke in a hushed voice. “Is everything all right?”
I can’t say yes, but I won’t scare her by saying no. “For now. The press will be showing up soon. Get everyone on the buses.”
“No one will talk out of turn,” Sonya promised.
Katie believed her. The woman ran the stage with an iron fist and zero tolerance for tabloid snitches.
Deadly Potential Page 10