Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) (6 page)

“What did this sick bastard do to this kid?”

“I’m not privy to say right now.” I paused for a moment. “But since you’re here, I could use your help. Nicholas Clancy … is he a football player?”

“Wide receiver,” Dean Jackson answered without hesitation. “Why would you need…” he paused for a moment when the answer dawned on him. I nodded to confirm that that was indeed who was in the room.

“Did you get in touch with the coach for us?” Flo asked.

“Not yet,” Butler answered.

“What’s the hold up?” I asked.

“He left to go on a scouting trip a few days ago,” Jackson answered. “He should have been here and back by now.”

“You don’t know where he is?” I asked.

“He hasn’t been answering his calls,” Butler answered.

A sense of dread came over me. I looked over at Flo and I could tell she was thinking the same thing. “Where’s his office?”

Flo and I left the second crime scene as Dean Jackson walked us to the sports facility where the coaches and sporting staff offices were. It wasn’t a short walk, but we made it quickly. The place was pretty empty. “Where is everyone?”

“We’re between seasons,” Jackson answered. “Usually things don’t pick up until mid-summer when they start to get ready for the new season.” We walked down the deserted hallway on the fourth floor and Jackson finally pointed to a door. “His office is right over there.”

The closer we got, the easier it was to tell that the door was already open. I held up a hand and took the lead. Considering what we were dealing with, it was the kind of situation warranting we err on the side of caution. I took out my gun and slowly walked to the door, nudging it open a bit more.

Leading with my pistol, I slowly crept into the room to discover that there was no one standing. The stench in the room led me to look behind the huge desk in the office, only to find the third victim. The coach was on his stomach and killed in the exact same way that his two players had been found.

Dean Jackson came into the room and saw the body before I could stop him. He ran from the room and vomited in the hallway. “Is that how you found our students earlier today?” he called out, still gasping for breath.

“Exactly like that,” I answered with a sigh. There was no need to hide it, not now that he’d seen with his own eyes the kind of brutality we were handling. I walked over to the body. “He smells like he’s been here a while.”

Flo was already covering her mouth. “Based on the stench, I’d say we’re looking at the first victim, not the third.”

Despite the smell, I walked closer to inspect the body. Taser marks, and handcuffed, gagged, and raped before being stabbed, just like his students.

Flo put on a glove and went right for the ankle, pulling out another card. “Here’s our third card. The king of hearts.”

I didn’t touch the card, but took a quick gander at it before finally leaving the room. I may have had more experience, but I still didn’t like the smell any more than the Dean did. Once in the hallway, I pulled out my phone and contacted dispatch. I told them that another body had been found at the athletics building and that we needed another team to come over and secure the crime scene. I then called Captain Bancroft.

The line picked up after a few rings. “Walker, this better be good news.”

“I’m afraid not,” I answered.

“What the fuck is going on over there?”

“We found a third body.”

“Same M.O.?”

“Exactly, right down to the card in the sock, but this time there are a few differences.”

“Such as?”

“Age. The new victim is a staff member...the football coach.”

“Son-of-a-bitch.”

“My thoughts exactly. There’s a pattern I’m seeing here, obviously. All three victims are members of the football team and all three victims are male. We have no reason to assume that M.O. is going to change,” I said as I looked into the room again. Flo was looking around for possible clues while trying her best not to contaminate the crime scene. “The execution of these crimes is also very personal. Whoever is doing this has a lot of pent-up anger towards the football team, and I doubt it’s for their
on-field
play.”

“I’ll get someone here to look into any complaints made against the players or the coach,” the Captain stated. “If there were any criminal investigations in the last few years, I’ll make sure we know about it.”

“All right, I’ve got the Dean here. I’ll look into any possible scandals that might have been swept under the carpet.” I looked over at Dean Jackson, who had been listening to me on the phone. He knew exactly what I was implying and shook his head to indicate no such cover-up existed, but I knew we’d have to check with the President, possibly the other Deans as well; just because the first body had been found by the Arts building, it didn’t mean the other students or the murderer had anything to do with his division in particular.

“Did you notify dispatch?” the Captain asked.

“I did. Flo and I have the scene secure until the new team gets here.”

“All right. Keep it that way.”

As the line went dead, I turned to face Dean Jackson. “If there are any dark secrets or scandals that the university swept under the rug, now would be a good time to let me know about it.” Dean Jackson was sullenly quiet for a change. “I’m not here to out any dirty laundry, but if you know something that could help stop this from happening again, you need to speak up!”

The Dean still shook his head. “If such a scandal existed, it did so without my assistance,” he answered. “Nothing ever came across my desk that would spark this kind of madness. What I saw in there was disgusting.”

“I know,” I said as I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been working here a while and that was a lot for me to take in, as well. This looks and feels personal, though. Whoever is attacking the football team is angry at them for a reason. This person is going out of their way to torture, humiliate, and degrade them publicly. Whatever is going on...” my words trailed off.

“I’m not sure what could have provoked this,” the Dean admitted. “The only scandal we’ve had in the past was last year’s spending scandal. I’m sure you watched it unfold on the news, as I did, for the most part.”

“I remember that,” I said as I paced the hallway. The university had been caught giving money and gifts to some of its players. As a result, the team had been fined, and banned from bowl games for the next four seasons.

I couldn’t imagine someone being so upset about that as to attack the coach and the players so viciously. Something had happened that we were not aware of, a secret that never made the light of day, and one that this killer was trying to force the campus and the staff to expose to the media and the public.

It was finally time to make a call that I had hoped wouldn’t be necessary, but the time had finally come. I fished into my wallet and pulled out a card I hadn’t used in years.

A few years ago, when some sick, demented predator was killing prostitutes in the slums, I’d had no choice but to bring the feds in. Normally, people in my profession considered it a weakness to call the FBI for assistance, but I was above pride, which to me wasn’t worth more than the lives of future victims. We had 17 dead girls before we solved the case and brought the bastard in.

After that case, the special agent who helped me out left his card in case I needed his assistance again. Now that I was getting impatient waiting for the feds to return our numerous calls, it seemed to be that time, especially since the legal standard for a serial killer had been met with this third body, so I decided to make the call. 

I was not above asking for help, especially when I needed it to get things under control. I also had this feeling in my gut that this was not the first time this killer was striking. These killings were not sloppy and they left little or no traces behind from what we’d found so far. At least none we could connect to the suspect at the moment.

I immediately dialed the number and was surprised it still worked. I waited a few rings before someone finally picked up. “This is Special Agent Collins.”

“Peyton.” I started, relieved to finally get an answer. “It’s Jake Walker.”

“Jake!” the other replied with a profound sense of surprise. “It’s good to hear from you again, my friend.”

“You’re not going to feel that way when you hear why I’m calling.”

There was a long pause. “How many bodies?”

“We just found a third in less than 24 hours.”

“All right,” Peyton replied.  I could hear him shuffling around, obviously getting ready to take some notes. “Give me the skinny. What are you dealing with here?”

“A pretty sick individual,” I answered. “The victims are all male and members of the football team or staff of the team.” 

“All right, keep going. Tell me how you’re finding them?”

“The victims are bound. Arms behind their backs with handcuffs and mouths covered with a ball gag.” I took a deep breath because I knew Dean Jackson was still in the hallway listening to me. “All three victims have been sexually assaulted and tortured before the killer finally finished them off with multiple stab wounds to the back. We’re waiting on forensic confirmation, but the details of all that seem pretty clear in my eyes.”

There was another pause which was so long I almost thought the line had dropped. Finally Special Agent Collins came back with a question I didn’t expect. “Are you finding playing cards on the victims?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve had other cities reporting the exact M.O., but this is the first time there’s been three in one city,” Collins continued. “What cards did the suspect leave with your victims?”

“The ace, eight and king of hearts,” I answered. “Do you think this is the same killer you’re tracking?”

“It would appear so,” Collins answered. “But there is a slight alteration to the M.O. This is the first time the suspect has used any card with a heart on it.”

“What cards were you getting in the other cities?”

“Until you called, there were only clubs and spades,” Collins answered. “This is the first time our suspect, if this really is the same person, has used any of the red cards.”

“I really hope the reason isn’t because he ran out of black cards.”

“No kidding,” Collins agreed. There was another awkward pause as I could sense he was calling people over. “We’re going to mobilize as soon as we can. This is the fifth city this suspect has hit and each city was in a different state. Just the fact that you have three indicates a major escalation, especially considering how quickly the bodies are piling up.”

“I have a feeling this state is where the suspect originates from,” I sighed. 

“What makes you say that?” Collins asked.

“I just have this feeling the suspect is here to stay,” I replied. “Every time I see those cards, I keep thinking about what most people say about their home.”

“What about it?”

“It’s where the heart is.”

After speaking with Agent Collins, I contacted Captain Bancroft to give him the heads-up that the feds were getting involved. The Captain was relieved that help was on its way. I, however, held back the info that this might be the suspect’s home state. If this really was ground zero and where the killer’s break with reality had started his homicidal bender, things were going to get a lot worse here before they got better. Not exactly the kind of news I felt like passing on to my boss at the moment.

Once the scene was secure, Flo, the Dean, and I left the building. The Dean was visibly upset so I took him aside to calm him down. “We know the suspect is targeting the football team – for what reason I have no idea – but we should move them all to a secure location, and I’ll make sure some officers are assigned to protect them. If the suspect’s beef is only with them, chances are the killing will stop and we’ll have a chance to catch up and maybe catch this person.”

“That person is sick,” the Dean replied, still in shock.

“I know, but we have to keep our heads or more people will die.” I was seriously tempted to slap him back to reality, he seemed to be reacting so slowly, but that wouldn’t be productive. “We need to mobilize now before it’s too late. Keep the details of what you saw to yourself. The last thing we need is a panic.”

“All right,” the Dean finally conceded. “I’ll start making calls and make sure everyone gets rounded up.”

“I’ll set up a place for them to stay,” I said. “We are the only ones who can know where they’re going to stay or their lives could be in danger.” I couldn’t make myself any clearer and the message finally sank in. A single mistake could cost another student or staff member their life. Things could quickly spin out of control and a full blown panic had to be prevented to avoid parents taking their kids home, and temporarily shutting down the campus, though I think we all realized that could be a step we had to take.

Not that I wanted to argue with concerned parents. In fact, I intended to take similar precautions with Cassie. We worked off the assumption that the suspect might be from the campus, meaning he could be a student. If the suspect went home with the rest of the students and went underground, it would make the killer much harder to catch. This wasn’t what I wanted.  At the same time, we had to get the football team out of harm’s way.

I contacted the Captain and told him of my plan, and as much as I knew he hated to increase our spending, he was willing to do anything to slow the suspect down. The school made calls, and we dispatched officers to meet the players at the administration building. From there, the plan was to load them onto a bus, ship them to an undisclosed hotel, and keep them there for a few nights.

That would have to do for now, even though there was no guarantee it would work. I asked Flo to stay with the Dean and watch over the players when they arrived at the hotel. We both agreed on a place and I called to make the reservation. When the head count was over, we had to book over 25 rooms, with two people occupying each room. Flo and I were the only two outside of the hotel who knew where they all went. I was intent on keeping it that way, too. I did one more thing to throw our suspect off the trail. I pulled out my cell and made another call. “I’m looking for Tina Carlson.”