Malice

by Anne Patrick

  "Are you finished?"

  She met Isaac's stare. "Sorry. Not the impression we were aiming for, huh?"

  "Agent McDaniels has been with the FBI eleven years and is at the top of her field. She has the highest conviction rate of any profiler in the bureau, and she is convinced Harland Briggs is the one responsible for the recent disappearances of these teenagers."

  "Well, be that as it may, she didn't go to school with Briggs, and it's going to take more than this profile of hers to convince me a cop of twenty-five years is involved in this or those murders back east you said he did."

  "Excuse me, Chief, but how long has it been since you even talked to Harland Briggs?" Jo asked, her glare matching his.

  He hesitated, his expression softening. "I went to high school with him."

  "So in other words, thirty-five to forty years."

  "A lot can happen to a man in that length of time, especially to a cop," Isaac pointed out.

  "You were in Viet Nam, weren't you, Chief?" Jo asked, glancing at the wall beside her where several photographs of him and his army buddies were proudly displayed.

  "What's that got to do with anything?"

  Her gaze lingered on a picture of him and several of his comrades in front of a tank. "I can only imagine the images still haunting you. Those kinds of memories have a way of possessing one's soul if they let it. They linger there in the back of your mind, festering like a cancer. You try not to think about it, you try to forget, but you can't, they're always there. Most of us learn to deal with those images, to accept them as part of our past, but guys like Briggs can't. Something inside them won't allow it. Then something happens in their life that triggers the pain and horror and they begin to relive those memories as if it were only yesterday. They've crossed the line so to speak, and they start to do things they never conceived before. They begin to perform the most unspeakable acts anyone ever dreamed possible."

  Neither man said anything.

  Jo could sense their eyes on her before she even looked. She locked on to the chief's gaze. "You may have known Harland Briggs before, but there is only one person in this room who knows the animal he turned into after he left here."

  *****

  Jo stepped from the shower and stood nude in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Light auburn hair clung to her shoulders. Her breasts were almost double their normal size, and her stomach looked like an oversized basketball. She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. She missed her flat stomach and being able to see her toes without bending over. Yet she still found herself amazed by the life growing inside her. Running her hand over her belly she thought of the vision she'd had in the park today and smiled.

  "Are you going to be in there all night? I've gotta use the bathroom."

  Jo laughed at her new roommate and grabbed the robe from the back of the stool. She stepped out and moved to one side. "It's all yours."

  "Wow. Isaac wasn't kidding when he said you were a slob."

  Jo glanced back at the clothes she had left lying on the floor and the wet towels slung over the edge of the tub. With a shrug and smile, she continued on to her bed.

  She'd just changed into her nightgown and climbed under the covers when Lindsey exited the bathroom. After digging her cellphone from her purse, she dialed her home number, and then watched as her roommate sat on the floor and began a series of sit-ups.

  "I used to be able to do that," Jo said, a little envious of the woman.

  "I thought you ran for exercise?"

  "No, I run to keep my sanity," she corrected, wishing she hadn't been reminded of her daily ritual. Up until her fourth month, she had run six miles a day, sometimes twice a day, depending on whether or not she worked a case.

  "Hello," a groggy voice finally greeted her on the phone.

  "Did I wake you?" She figured he had probably fallen asleep in his recliner while watching the news.

  "That's okay. How's it going?"

  "Good." She missed him already.

  "Owie, owie, owie…charley horse."

  "Who is that?"

  "My roommate, Lindsey. You remember: the lab tech from Washington."

  "Roommate, huh? Guess that eliminates phone sex?"

  "Maybe not, she's pretty liberal. You want me to put her on the line for you?"

  "Ah come on, don't be a prude."

  "I'm seven months pregnant. A prude, I'm not."

  "Hey handsome," Lindsey hollered.

  "We've never met, how's she know I'm handsome. You been talking about me?"

  Jo chuckled. "How was work?"

  "Nothing too exciting. Old man Duncan and Mrs. Olson got into a scrap over boundaries. Mrs. Olson wants to put up a privacy fence so he can't watch her when she gets in her hot tub."

  Jo recalled the couple. Mrs. Olson, almost seventy, and Mr. Duncan, a few years older, had been smitten with one another for years but both were too hard headed to admit it. "How'd you settle it?"

  "I told him if he didn't go along with her wishes, she was liable to slap a peeping tom charge on him. Last I heard they were going to discuss it over tea. I figure either way I'll probably have a dead body on my hands tomorrow. Either one will shoot the other or one will keel over from a heart attack in the bedroom."

  She laughed, hoping neither scenario played out. "How's Bailey?"

  "Fine. She liked the idea of picking out the wallpaper for the nursery. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  "Anything but pink- I hate pink."

  "I doubt she'll choose pink, orange maybe, or purple."

  "She's doing okay then?"

  "Yeah. She's just going to need some time is all."

  "Give her my love."

  "I will. Call me tomorrow?"

  "Okay."

  "Love you."

  "Love you, too."

  "You can tell you two are newlyweds," Lindsey commented after she'd hung up.

  Jo smiled at her cynicism. "How long have you and Jack been married?" she asked, watching as the woman began another series of leg lifts.

  "Going on ten years. We met shortly after he joined the highway patrol. After pulling me over and giving me a speeding ticket, he had the nerve to ask me out. Can you believe that? I figured a guy with that kind of nerve was bound to be interesting."

  "So what's he think about you coming out into the field?"

  "He threw a fit at first, but being a cop himself, he understands. I think that's why we've managed to get along so well."

  "It does make a difference." Jo shifted to her side and folded her arm underneath her head. "That's one of the things that first attracted me to Austin. He was the first guy I'd ever met who understood me and wasn't afraid of what I do for a living."

  "Speaking of which, I heard the others talking earlier…they said the reason you're so good at what you do is because you're psychic."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "So is it true? Have you been holding out on me?"

  Jo smiled at the woman. Though she'd always considered Lindsey a friend, she'd never felt comfortable enough around her to tell her about her special gift. A woman of science was unlikely to believe her, and Jo was ridiculed enough as it was.

  "Come on, Jo, fess up. Are the rumors I've heard about you in the past really true?"

  "I don't know that you could call it being psychic or not."

  "They said you talk to the dead, that they tell you things about the killer." Lindsey crossed her legs and leaned back against her bed.

  Jo figured the truth was better than believing some of the rumors going around about her in the bureau, so she decided to confide in Lindsey and hoped she'd be discreet with what she passed on to the others.

  "I first noticed it in my early twenties, when I was an investigator with the medical examiner's office in Portland. Whenever I'd come upon a victim who’d died a violent death, I'd pick up things from them."

  "What sort of things?"

  "What they were feeling; what they experienced at the time of their deat
h. I sense their fear, their guilt, and their pain. In other words, I have the ability to become the victim."

  "That can't be fun."

  Jo laughed, relieved at the woman's casual acceptance of her gift. "It isn't, but through them I'm able to gain access to the killer. With their help I'm able to learn things only the killer knows, which in most cases, lead to an arrest."

  "Wow, so it's true, you're no ordinary profiler?"

  "No, I guess not. I only use it when it's absolutely necessary though." At least that was the case before today. In the past, she'd had a choice of whether or not to use her gift. She immediately thought of the vision she'd had in the park. No doubt, Briggs had stood in the very spot she had and had watched the teenagers at some point prior to abducting them.

  Lindsey rose from the floor and sat on the edge of her bed. "So how many people in the FBI know about this ability of yours; I mean is it a pretty well-known fact?"

  "Isaac knows, as does my ASAC back in Portland. Other than that, maybe half a dozen agents I've worked with over the years. Some believed me, and others didn't. And some just think I'm crazy."

  "Seeing as how you're practically a legend back at Quantico, you've got to be doing something right."

  "Yeah, well, it doesn't do much good unless you're able to convince the police you're working with that you know what you're doing."

  "I heard your meeting with the chief didn't go well."

  "No. It could have gone better had I not been so defensive," Jo admitted. She regretted going off on him now, knowing they were going to need his cooperation on the investigation.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Her morning sickness worse than usual, Jo arrived late to their morning briefing. Having spent the last half hour in the public restroom of the police station, she discovered the other taskforce members had already left on their assignments when she entered their command center.

  Isaac glanced up from a stack of files on the table before him. "I was just about to come looking for you. Lindsey said you weren't feeling well."

  "I'm okay. Sorry I'm late."

  "You're with me today," he informed, getting right to work. "We're going to visit the girls’ families, find out who all their friends are, some of them may remember something."

  "Sounds good. You should have someone check out the lead on the Camaro again too. I have a feeling there's a strong connection there." She decided to hold back on the vision she'd had the day before in the park, still unnerved by it.

  "I'm already on it." Then, as if sensing something else troubled her, his eyes leveled on her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I'm fine. Shall we go?"

  While Isaac visited with Mrs. Rhoads, Jo glanced at her surroundings. The teenager's room was painted a peaceful peach color and had thick white shag carpet, and looked as if it'd been left just as it was the day the girl disappeared three weeks ago.

  It was a bedroom every girl dreamed of having. A beautiful canopy bed draped in baby blue was centered between two windows that faced the street. Stuffed animals were piled on top and a purple and white uniform lay at the end of the bed. A desk and a large bookshelf rested against the east wall. One shelf stood empty of books, displaying instead a trophy of a young woman with outreached arms and a basketball in her hands. Jo ran her finger along the girl's name at the bottom of the trophy. Below it read, 'Most Valuable Player'.

  "Kerry was so proud of that trophy."

  Jo turned at the woman's voice and offered a sympathetic smile. She then walked to the window and looked out at the street below. The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end as if someone watched her. Turning around, she saw Isaac and Mrs. Rhoads still engaged in conversation and now flipping through a small photo album. Glancing out the window again, she spotted a dark blue car parked on the other side of the street, a huge Oak tree obscuring its make and model.

  Thinking of the Camaro, she turned to Isaac. "I'll be right back," she informed, hurrying from the room.

  By the time she made it down the stairs and out the front door, the car was gone.

  Jo spotted a neighbor working in his yard next door and walked over. "Excuse me, Sir, how long have you been out here in your yard?"

  The elderly man glanced up from the flower garden. After scanning her credentials, he shrugged. "I don't know; maybe an hour."

  "Did you by any chance see the car parked across the street just a few minutes ago?"

  He looked at her as if she'd just told him she'd seen a UFO. "I don't know what you're talking about. There hasn't been a car come down this street since I've been out here."

  "Are you sure? It was dark blue."

  "Lady, I'm positive. Since the Rhoads girl disappeared everyone on the block takes notice of who comes and goes on this street."

  "What about before, did you happen to notice a dark blue Camaro in the neighborhood prior to her disappearance?"

  "The police already asked me that and I told them, no. Of course, I never had reason to keep track of goings on in the neighborhood before. I just kept to myself and minded my own business."

  "Jo, everything okay?"

  She glanced over and saw Isaac standing near the hedges separating the yards. "I thought I saw something…but I must have been mistaken." She turned back to the old man and retrieved from her blazer pocket a business card with her cellphone number on it. "If you do see the car, give me a call," she said, offering him the card.

  He nodded and slipped the card in his pocket.

  "Unless you want another look around, we're done here," Isaac said.

  "No. I'm ready to go."

  "The Mitchell's live about six blocks from here and the Shipley's live out on Route 4; your call."

  Her stomach growled, making the decision for her. "Let's eat first."

  *****

  "I heard they serve a mean pepperoni pizza."

  Lost in the file she'd been reading on the Rhoads girl, Jo glanced up at his comment and stared at the popular hangout she'd stood in front of the day before. Still unnerved by what happened yesterday and then again just a while ago, she turned to him. "I'm not really in the mood for pizza."

  "I've never known you to turn down a pepperoni and mushroom pizza before, what gives?"

  Knowing he was already suspicious of her behavior, she forced a smile. "Oh well, guess a little heartburn never killed anyone."

  "That's more like it."

  With it being lunchtime, the restaurant was swamped. The only free table was one near the front.

  Searching for the restroom, she spotted it at the back of the restaurant. "Be right back."

  "Tea or a Coke," he asked.

  She hesitated. "Just water. I’ve heard caffeine is bad for the baby."

  "I think that's an old wives’ tale. Joyce drank a six pack of Coke a day with our kids and they both turned out normal," then with a smile, "well, almost normal."

  Jo wasn't going to take any chances. "Water is fine."

  When she entered the restroom, she spotted a couple of teenaged girls huddled around the sink, touching up their makeup. They both smiled as she past them en route to an empty stall.

  "Priest or not, I still say he is cute."

  "He's as old as your father, Brandy."

  "So I happen to like older guys."

  Jo rolled her eyes, thankful Bailey was more interested in getting her driver's license than boys.

  "Don't they take some sort of oath or something?"

  "I don't know. I haven't been to church since I was five."

  Jo heard the door open.

  "I still say you're making a huge mistake."

  Jo waited until she'd heard the door close before she exited the stall. Still smiling, she went to the sink. Neither of the girls could have been over sixteen, and here they were discussing making out with a priest. What's this world coming to?

  Exiting the restroom, she glanced around the restaurant for the girls, but they were nowhere in sight.

  "You okay?" Isaac asked
before she even had a chance to sit down.

  "I'm fine. I wish you'd stop asking me that."

  His eyes narrowed. "Sorry."

  Feeling somewhat guilty, Jo placed a hand over his. "I'm just a little on edge is all; I didn't mean to snap at you."

  "Don't worry about it. I remember how moody Joyce was when she was pregnant."

  Jo managed to get three slices of pizza down without any signs of repercussions before the other members of the taskforce started arriving. "I see we aren't the only ones who have a weakness for pizza," she commented as Lindsey, and agents Rifkin and Milano pulled up chairs and joined them.

  "I told them to meet us here so we could touch base," Isaac informed.

  "Any luck?" Jo asked.

  "I managed to track down a couple of guys he used to hang with in junior high. We just finished interviewing one of them," Lindsey announced. "According to Richie Martin, aside from an unusual fascination with death, he was your basic teenager. Experimented with the usual drugs, you know, beer, pot, and speed. He dated a few girls, usually younger than him. Had a part time job at the veterinary clinic where he cleaned up after the animals and walked the dogs."

  "We're still searching the data bases for liquor and convenience store robberies he may have pulled along the way," Agent Rifkin advised. "It's amazing how many have taken place over the last three years, seems being a convenience store clerk is fast becoming one of America's most dangerous professions."

  "Have you talked to any of the girls he dated yet?" Isaac inquired.

  "Not yet," Lindsey said as she glanced over her menu.

  Agent Farrell joined them. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen."

  Looking past him to Boone, Jo noticed he looked as if he'd been on a ten-mile hike uphill. "You look exhausted."

  "Hot shot here has been running me all over the county this morning."

  "I told you, old man, just give the word and I'll drop you off at the motel so you can take a nap."

  "Listen here, you little pipsqueak--"