Malice

by Anne Patrick

  Malice

  Anne Patrick

  Malice

  Copyright © 2014 by Anne Patrick. All rights reserved.

  Edited by Shawna K. Williams and Melissa Church

  Cover art by Gabrielle Prendergast/ CoverYourDreams.wordpress.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1499289909

  ISBN-10: 1499289901

  Licensing Notes:

  This book is protected by Federal copyright laws. All rights are reserved and it is illegal to copy, scan, or in any way mechanically or digitally reproduce this book except for brief passages used in reviews and related articles. Requests for other uses should be directed to the author or publisher for written permission.

  Malice is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of the author‘s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful readers. Thank you so much for your love and support, and for joining me on this amazing journey!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my awesome editors Shawna K. Williams and Melissa Church, thank you for making my work shine. To my family and friends, thank you for your continued love, support, and patience.

  I serve an amazing God! Without His inspiration and encouragement, none of this would be possible.

  Bible references used in Malice were taken from the King James Bible, originally published in 1611.

  Chapter one

  Jo knelt beside the body of a partially clothed woman lying face up on the pavement with her hands and feet crossed. Blonde curls stuck out from underneath a blue scarf covering her face. After slipping on a pair of latex gloves, Jo lifted the scarf to reveal a severely bruised face. Blood caked at the corner of the woman’s lips and around her ear lobe, evidence of possible head trauma. The multiple stab wounds to her chest undoubtedly caused her death. Bruising on her hands, arms, and legs suggested she fought her assailant. Noticing the lack of blood around the body, Jo glanced down the narrow alley. It being a dead end in a remote location made for a good body dump.

  "What do you think, Agent McDaniels, same guy?" Detective Donaldson asked, referring to a series of murders plaguing the city of Portland over the last week.

  Jo looked up at the young detective, guessing him to be at least ten years younger than she. "No. Though there are similarities, this victim wasn't subdued. There is an excessive amount of trauma to the body. The perpetrator was out of control. She fought back. What started as a physical altercation escalated, and I think she knew her attacker."

  "Because of the scarf covering her face?"

  "The presentation of the body, the fact she wasn't just tossed from the vehicle, and the placement of the scarf does suggest some level of remorse."

  "So a husband or boyfriend?"

  "That would be my guess. Any ID on her yet?"

  "No. We'll run her prints; with any luck, she'll have a record. If not, she's a Jane Doe until someone reports her missing."

  Jo attempted to rise from her kneeling position, her balance somewhat unsteady due to her bulging stomach.

  Detective Donaldson stepped forward. "Let me help you."

  Accepting his hand, she allowed him to pull her up. "Thank you, Detective."

  "You're welcome. This your first pregnancy?"

  She nodded. "I was a late bloomer. Built like a stick until I was twenty, and didn't discover boys till eight months ago."

  The young man laughed, turning loose of her hand. "How long have you been with the Bureau?"

  "Eleven years." The years had gone by fast, too fast it sometimes seemed. Until she'd met her husband, the FBI had been her whole life.

  "So I can pretty well trust that you know what you're talking about when you said this isn't our man's handy work."

  "Are you kidding? This woman is the best profiler the FBI has."

  Jo turned in recognition of her former boss's voice and smiled at the shock registered on his face when he saw her bulging stomach. "Isaac, what are you doing here?" She stepped forward and greeted the handsome African American with a hug. Then taking his hand, she turned to the surprised expression on the young detective's face. "Detective Donaldson, Isaac Washington. Isaac is the Special Agent in Charge of the Violent Crimes Unit at Quantico."

  Detective Donaldson stepped forward and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

  "What have you got here?" Isaac motioned toward the dead woman, now being examined by two crime scene investigators from the coroner's office.

  "A recent string of murders, the handy work of a serial killer I'm afraid. I asked the FBI to lend their expertise to give us an idea of what we are dealing with. She doesn't appear to be one of his victims though."

  Jo felt queasy and lightheaded as the familiar metallic taste crept up her throat, and she quickly excused herself. She barely made it to the back of her car before losing what was left of her lunch.

  "You okay?" Isaac asked.

  She nodded and accepted the handkerchief he offered.

  "How far along are you?"

  "Seven months. Providing there are no complications, my doctor says I can continue to work another four to six weeks."

  His eyes narrowed. "Is there some place where we can go and talk?"

  Jo had known Isaac long enough to recognize that expression. Though she hadn't seen him since her transfer almost eight months ago, she doubted his visit was a social call. She glanced at her wristwatch and saw it was almost four o'clock. "Why don't you follow me home and you can have dinner with us."

  "You sure? I wouldn't want to impose."

  "Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure Austin would love to see you, and you haven't met my stepdaughter, Bailey."

  "Sounds great. I'm parked around the corner."

  Jo glanced back at Detective Donaldson, who was preoccupied with the victim. As if sensing her gaze, he raised his head and waved. "If I can be of any more help just give me a call," she hollered.

  "I will. Thank you."

  *****

  The drive from Portland to Claremont took an hour. As they arrived at the two-story home that Jo shared with her husband and stepdaughter, Isaac pulled in behind her in the driveway and followed her into the house. After stopping off in the kitchen long enough to put on a roast Bailey had laid out that morning, Jo gave him a quick tour of their house, making the nursery their last stop.

  She glanced around the partially painted room scattered with numerous baby accessories then met his smile. "As you can see we're still working on it."

  "I didn't think you even wanted kids."

  "It wasn't so much me not wanting them but where they would fit into my life. Seems fate didn't agree with my reservations though. I was foolish enough to pack my birth control pills in luggage which the airline lost while we were en route to our honeymoon."

  "Ah."

  "Yeah. They arrived about a week after I found out I was pregnant."

  "Well, if it makes you feel any better, pregnancy seems to suit you. I've never seen you look lovelier."

  "Gee thanks," she answered with a dry laugh before leading him back downstairs.

  The front door opened just as they hit the bottom of the stairs and Jo's teenaged stepdaughter stepped inside lugging an arm full of books.

  "Dad home, yet?" With barely a glance, she placed her books on the table in the hallway.

  "Not yet. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine from Quantico… Isaac Washington… my daughter, Bailey. Isaac will be joining us for dinner tonight."

  "Nice to meet you," Isaac said as he offered his hand.

  "Ditto." She turned back to Jo. "Did you put the roast on?"

  "In the oven as we speak."

 
"So how do you feel about becoming a big sister?" Isaac asked.

  Bailey shrugged, her eyes still locked on Jo. "It's not like I've any say in it." Then crossing back to the table she picked up her books. "I'll be in my room doing my homework."

  "Nice kid."

  Jo rolled her eyes at him. "She's usually more pleasant to be around. She's taking the pregnancy about as well as I am."

  Jo fixed a pitcher of lemonade and they went into the living room. "So what brings you to Oregon?" She motioned to the sectional sofa.

  He waited as she eased herself onto the cushions before joining her. "Just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop in and see how Portland's finest new agent is doing."

  "Save your mendacities for someone that doesn't know how much you hate to fly." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Now what gives?"

  Isaac shifted beside her then slowly reached into his suit jacket. "These came into my office two days ago." He handed her a white envelope.

  Jo took it and opened it. They were newspaper clippings. The first was from the Washington Post: an article done on her shortly after the news of her marriage got out.

  She read the caption, AGENT FINDS LOVE IN THE MIDST OF MADNESS. The story that followed it went on to describe her as the FBI's Prima Donna of Profiling, giving mention of a unique talent that helped her to track serial killers.

  Attached to the article was a clipping from another newspaper, this one unidentified and undated. THIRD LOCAL TEENAGER REPORTED MISSING, POLICE FEAR SERIAL KILLER.

  "The envelope has a Minneapolis postmark but we weren't able to get any decent prints from it. We assume the parents of one of the missing teens sent them. We tracked the story to a small community outside of Minneapolis. Kerry Rhoads, fifteen, was first reported missing three weeks ago. One week later, Lauren Shipley, same age, disappeared while walking home from school. Last week, Roberta Mitchell, fourteen, failed to return home from school."

  "Any leads?"

  "Only one, and you're not going to like it."

  "Why is that?"

  "Does Louke, Minnesota ring any bells?"

  Her eyes widened in recognition. "Harland Briggs was born and raised there before moving to Maine."

  "Now you know why I'm here."

  As if sensing her fear, the baby stirred within her, prompting her to stand. Stunned by the news, Jo began to pace the room. She thought back to the case that continued to haunt her almost three years later. Detective Harland Briggs had abducted, raped, tortured, then buried alive twelve little girls ranging in ages from eight to thirteen years old, and through a horrible miscarriage of justice, had managed to get away with it.

  "In the past three years there have been an alarming number of teenaged girls abducted across the country, but never more than one in a certain area. We've no idea how many he's connected to, or if he's even involved."

  "Oh, it's him all right," she said softly, "I can feel it."

  "Yeah, me too." His dark eyes revealed the torment he too had gone through on the case. "The Director has authorized me to put together a taskforce from our Washington and Quantico field offices…"

  "I want Lindsey Hammond. She's the best lab tech I know."

  "I'll get her." He stood, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this, Jo. I only came here to run it past you and I'd never have done that had I known you were pregnant."

  "I need to finish this, Isaac, not only for myself but for the families of his victims. We need closure."

  "Most people think the killer died in prison."

  "But we both know that's not true."

  "How long before you can leave for Minnesota?"

  "I have a doctor's appointment in the morning for a sonogram. We can leave after that."

  "I'll call your supervisor then book our flight. I don't imagine your husband is going to like this much."

  She gave a heavy sigh. "No, I don't suppose he will."

  *****

  "What are you thinking, Jo? You're seven months pregnant for heaven's sake."

  Jo glanced up from the lounge chair in which she sat. She had chosen the patio to share the news for the sake of privacy, but after five minutes of continuous yelling, she figured Bailey, as well as most of the neighborhood, knew of her plans.

  She met Austin's glare. "I throw up at least three times a day. I crave food I couldn't even imagine eating seven months ago, and have mood swings psychotics aren't even prone to. I don't need to be reminded of my pregnancy."

  "How can you even consider going after this guy after what happened to you the last time?"

  "Because he has to be stopped," she snapped back, wishing now she'd kept to protocol and not offered any information about her assignment.

  "Then let the FBI get another profiler. You've no business getting involved in this case, especially now."

  "No one knows him the way I do."

  "Precisely my point."

  "It could take months for another profiler to get into Briggs' head, and we don't have that kind of time. There is no telling how many he has killed so far."

  He knelt down in front of her and took her hands, his blue eyes as intense as his grip. "Look, I know we promised one another we wouldn't let our work interfere in our marriage, but Jo I've seen what happens to you when you use your abilities. I know the damage done to you the last time you went after this guy."

  Jo wrenched at the memory of descending into a dark place where she prayed never to return. She wiggled a hand free and brushed back his blonde bangs that had fallen over one eye. "I seldom use my ability because of the danger involved, you know that." When he gave no reply, she continued. "This is something I have to do, Austin. I've carried around the images of those little girls in my mind for three years. I hear them call out to me in my dreams, begging me to end their suffering. I can't live with that guilt anymore. Do you understand that?"

  "You realize you're putting our child at risk. That the stress alone could cause…"

  "Don't, Austin," she pleaded, tears now forming in her eyes.

  "Fine." He stood. "You want to risk losing our baby just to rid yourself of some misguided guilt then go, hunt the monster down, but don't expect me to be supportive about it."

  She jerked at the slamming of the screen door. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back and stared up at the sky. Lord, please don't let this case come between us. Help Austin to understand how important it is for me to catch Briggs and end his carnage. Guide Isaac and me in everything we do and keep us safe.

  Jo took out her cellphone, dialed the number to the Motel 8, and waited for Isaac to pick up. She had offered to put up a cot for him in the nursery, but he'd insisted on going to the motel. After the way Austin had behaved toward him throughout dinner, she didn't blame him. It was as if Austin had known the reason he was here before she even told him.

  "Jo?" Isaac asked the moment the ringing stopped.

  "Yes. Did you book our flight?"

  "One-thirty. How'd it go?"

  "Not very well I'm afraid."

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Just thought I'd call and make sure you got us a flight out."

  "We're all set. Where's your appointment in the morning?"

  "It's at the doctor's clinic here in Claremont. I'll pack before I go, so I should be ready to leave right after my appointment."

  "See you around ten then. Try and get a good night's sleep."

  "You too," she said then hung up.

  Figuring Austin needed some time to cool off, Jo chose to watch some TV before heading up to bed, but fell asleep midway through the news.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Austin had dressed and left for work by the time Jo woke, his behavior disturbing her even more. They'd had their arguments in the past, but they'd never gone to sleep at night without some sort of compromise.

  Jo heard footsteps coming from Bailey's room right above her. She rose and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. She'd just set a plate of waffles on the table when her stepdaught
er entered.

  "Where's Dad?"

  "He went in early. You want orange juice or milk?"

  "I've got Driver's Ed this morning so I don't have time for breakfast."

  Jo slammed the refrigerator door and turned to the girl. "I'm getting sick and tired of fixing you breakfast and you not even having the decency to sit down and eat it."

  "I know how to cook." Bailey grabbed a waffle from the plate and bit off a chunk then spoke with her mouth full, "I never asked you to fix my breakfast."

  Jo curbed her anger. Fighting wasn't going to solve the problems between them. In the beginning, they had been good friends and Jo had hoped for a relationship like the one normal mothers and daughters shared. It wasn't until the news of Jo's pregnancy that their friendship began to deteriorate.

  "I've got to go. I'm going to be late for school."

  "Bailey wait, uh, I need to talk to you."

  The teenager turned, crossing her arms.

  "I've been assigned a case out of state. I'm leaving after my doctor's appointment and I'm not sure how long I'll be out of town."

  "So?"

  "So, I need you to keep an eye on things around here. Help your dad finish the nursery, and help him out around the house."

  "Okay." She started out the door, but then stopped and turned around. "Do you plan on working after your baby is born?"

  Jo hated the way she kept referring to her pregnancy as your baby, as if Austin had no part in its conception. "Of course, but not right away. Why?"

  "I just hope you aren't expecting me to babysit this kid after it's born."

  "This kid is going to be a part of our family. I can't guarantee I'll never ask you to watch your little brother or sister, but I will do my best to find other alternatives. After all I wouldn't want to impose on your precious time."

  Bailey rolled her eyes at her before starting out the door.