No Ordinary Killer (16 page)

“The stench is nearly unbearable.” Dallas pressed her
sleeve against her nostrils and breathed in. “This bastard is just evil. So
what did you sequester?”

“Very good, Agent Fortune. He sent her eyeballs to the
station.”

“To anyone in particular?”

“Funny you should ask. He sent them to Detective
Weaver.”

“Hmm, and we have the receipt with his name on it.
Either our killer believes Weaver is our guy or he’s trying to point out the
obvious.”

“Which is?”

“A name on a piece of paper does not make a killer.
Anything else?”

“Now comes the bizarre, if all this isn’t enough. Her
heart was cut out and we never found it. Some think he fried it up, ate it, and
then washed the pan, dish and fork, which were found drying in the sink of his
apartment.”

“Same similarities; cannibalism, murder weapons left
near water, and eye extractions. Her name was Ella Burquist, so what was the
original victim’s name?”

“Eunice Ballyard.”

“No surprise there.”

“Cooper looked over the gruesome scene, searching for
anything the killer might have left behind.”

“I found nothing he didn’t want me to find,” Arnott
said, holding up several collection bags. “I’m out of here. I’ll go help Sparks
and Maxwell.”

As door closed, Cooper spotted a silver pen against
the wall. “Grab a bag, Fortune.” He reached down, picked up the pen and dropped
it into the evidence bag. “I’m telling only you about this find. Since I’m
being investigated, I’d like you to take this evidence in and have it tested
for blood and fingerprints.”

“Any particular reason we are keeping this from the
team?”

“Our guy is smart and it seems he hasn’t made any
mistakes. And if he has, he’s also close enough to neutralize its effect.”

“Okay, I’ll go along with that. You think the killer
is one—“

“One what?” Sparks asked.

“Dangerous manipulating bastard. He’s leading us by
the nose and we’re getting nowhere. See anything interesting with the crowd?”

“You realize this place is a bit off the beaten path?
Those people out there are either media or they rushed down here after hearing
it on the news. No one saw anything. No one knows anything. And we’re a fucking
day late as usual.” Sparks covered his nose with his cupped palm.

“He gets a bit wound but he’s right.” Maxwell entered
the small building. “I’ll get these pictures done, come on Sparks, put that
anger to some good use. Let’s find something that will lead us to this
bastard.”

Cooper noticed Dallas had slipped the pen discretely
into her pocket. Somehow he knew he could count on her. “We’re finished here
and are heading back to the department. As soon as you get your pictures,
Maxwell, meet us back at the team room.”

Fresh air never smelled so good. Wordless, Cooper led
the way back to his truck. He slid into the driver’s seat and slammed his palm
on the steering wheel. “He’s got us right where he wants us. We look like a
bunch of incompetent imbeciles chasing our tails.”

“Serial killers have a primary mission connected to a
private vision or dream, and the killings take him to this place of
satisfaction. But our guy is a bit different. His personal satisfaction is
pointing out or proving how wrong we are,” Dallas said.

“He’s laughing we didn’t tie these three murders
together. And why the hell didn’t we have someone watching this place? I
distinctly remember telling someone to put this place under surveillance. The
first two murders in Megan’s book could have taken place almost anywhere. But
we had specific logistics on this third murder. Can’t we do anything right?”

“We can’t go back, Cooper. If we keep focused and
don’t let him play with our minds, I think we can catch this killer at his own
game.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The cool clean sheets soothed her tired body. Megan
closed her eyes, exhausted from writing until three in the morning. She’d
accomplished more in one day than she had in the past month. At first it seemed
like a dream … the warmth of his hand on her breast woke her.

“Hmm, you have the body of a goddess.”

Megan smiled. “How did you know I was here?”

“I have my sources.”

“I’m glad. I need you. I … I know I’m not supposed to
ask you questions and I like our mysterious rendezvous. It’s best I don’t know
who you really are, that way I can’t tell anyone who gave me all that information
for my first book. But … I’m in trouble.”

“It’s best you don’t know who I am, Megan.”

“Oh, I know that and I truly don’t want to know … but
… I know you are either a policeman or you have access to police files. What I
want to know is, if you upload a file is there a record of who pulled it up?”

“Why on earth would you want to know that?”

“It’s … for my book.”

“Oh, you’ve started book two. Fabulous. Well, everyone
has a password they must enter to access police files, to answer your question.
I don’t think it keeps a record of who opens the database, but it’s damn safe.”

“No trail. Hmm.”

“You seem a bit uptight. I thought writing about
murdering someone turned you on. Come on, Megan,” he kissed her neck, then bit
her nipple. “I need you right now.”

“Oh,” she gasped. “I love it when you play rough. Just
don’t tear—”

“Sorry, too late.”

He tossed what was left of her brief panties across
the room and entered her fast and furious. Megan inhaled and quickly rose to
heights of stimulation. Nothing mattered but the tingling, shivering, ecstatic
thrill he filled her with. As he grunted against her, Megan quickly reached up
and pulled the mask from his face.

In the dimly lit room she caught a glimpse of green
eyes. The sting of his slap nearly knocked her out. “Damn, why did you hit me
so hard?” The mask was back in place.

“Why did you try to see my face? I thought we had an
agreement.”

“I didn’t mean to … it just happened. It’s so dark in
here, I can’t see you anyway. I don’t know why you’re so upset. Now come on,
finish what you started.”

“That’s my Megan.”

He flipped her onto her hands and knees and drove
home. She cried out as he seemed bent on punishing her for offending him. She
tried to flip back, but he held her neck tight and pushed her head into the
pillow. He continued his assault and in spite of the violence, she fell into
the rhythm and climaxed with him. They lay spent, next to each other. He hadn’t
released his grip on her neck and strangely that worried her.

Was her lover the killer? No. He’d first bedded her
four years ago. There were times she even worried the twins were his. No one
could thrill her in bed like he did. Maybe it was partly the mystery of the
man, but most likely it was the way he possessed her soul with a single thrust.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, baby. You make love like no other. I miss you
when you’re gone.” She considered telling him about the caller. She wanted to
share it with someone and ask what she should do. But what if the killer found
out? She couldn’t take the chance. “Maybe there will come a time when you can
let me see you … I mean really see you. I want more than just to make love.”

“We don’t make love, Megan. We fuck. It serves me and
you enjoy it. Why ruin it with complications?

“Don’t you want more with me? I mean … why—“

“We will have more, I promise you that. Hang in there,
Megan. You are a special part of my life and we’re going to have something most
people never experience together.”

“I believe you.” She closed her eyes as he eased out
of bed. Like always, he appeared and disappeared. An exciting man he was.

* * *

“Okay, team we know that our perp is selfish and
narcissistic. His goal is power and most times sexual gratification. He is also
hedonistic and feels superior to other human beings.” Cooper looked each of his
team members in the eyes. “Our guy is killing to prove we were wrong the first
time and most likely will be wrong again. Now why he zeroed in on Megan
Reynolds’ book, we may never know. Let’s concentrate on what we do know.”

Using a laser pointer, Maxwell pointed to the
whiteboard. “We know the killer is taunting us. We know the killer has insight
into the all the evidence in each of these three crime scenes. We know the
killer has come and gone without anyone seeing him. We know the killer
understands police procedures. We know the killer has been feeding information
to the media to create fear and to expose police ineptitude. We know the killer
is pointing a finger at Detectives Weaver and Reynolds. We know the killer has
a great interest in
Malicious Intent
.”

“I think that’s where this whole thing started,”
Dallas said.

“Exactly,” Sparks crossed his arms in front of his
chest. “I questioned Megan over and over. She swears she never met the source
in person. He always called her and gave her information when he felt like it.
He told her not to bother trying to have him traced because he was using a
pre-paid cell phone. She told me she’d even take a lie detector test. She does
not know the source.”

“How did she find this source?” Dallas asked.

“He supposedly called her out of the blue. Told her
that he overheard her telling a friend she was thinking of writing a book about
a serial killer. That he could give her details and information that would be
fodder for a best seller. Megan admitted she’d been thinking about writing the
book, but the caller couldn’t have overheard that conversation because she
never told a soul.”

“He said fodder?” Maxwell asked. “That’s an odd term.”

“That’s exactly what she said. I asked her why she
didn’t bring her information to the police. She admitted it seemed odd, but she
wanted to write the book. She knew Cooper had always talked about writing crime
books and she wanted to piss him off.”

After a few chuckles, Cooper put up his hands. “Okay,
it worked … she pissed me off.”

Weaver balanced his coffee cup, notebook and jacket.
“Sorry I’m late. That place was fucked up.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t make it to the Billings’
residence before the package arrived?”

“Afraid not. When I got there an ambulance was taking
Mr. Billings to the hospital. He had a heart attack after opening that package
containing his daughter’s feet. It didn’t take me that long to get to their
house. The killer must have guessed we would try to get there right away and
made sure he beat us. I took the package and contents to the lab.”

“Did we learn anything or see anything suspicious at
the crime scene?” Cooper asked.

“Maxwell and I canvased the entire crowd and took
pictures,” Sparks said. “We took pictures of what was left of the body and the
crime scene. We found nothing that was different from the—“

“The package just arrived. I brought it here right
away, like you asked, Cooper.” Delores placed a box on the desk in front of
Weaver. “It’s addressed to you … like before.”

“Oh, great … this is damn creepy deja vu.” He stood
and hurried to the front of the room. “Hell, I’m not opening that package
again. Maxwell, you have a go at it.”

“Okay folks, let’s do this one together.” Maxwell
snapped on a pair of gloves then placed a couple pieces of paper beneath the
package. “As before there is no return address and it’s addressed to Paul
Weaver at the Police Department.” Maxwell sliced the tape holding the brown
paper and carefully unfolded it. “Seems like we have a box—“

“Stop!” Cooper shouted. “Maxwell, carefully set that
box down. Weaver, leave the room and call the bomb squad up here.”

“Why? There’s no precedence … okay … I think I get it.
Better safe than sorry.”

“I think it would be wise if everyone left the room.”
Cooper waited as everyone left, then quietly pulled the door closed.

“You really think it’s booby-trapped?” Dallas asked.

“I truly don’t know. But I had a feeling something
just wasn’t right. And think about it, if a bomb went off in that room the
entire team could have been hurt or worse.”

“Coming through … I suggest everyone move back and
wait for my signal. If I nod my head several times, that means it’s live and
get your asses out of this building. I would suggest pulling the fire alarm on
your way out.”

“Your name?” Cooper asked.

“Archer.”

“I’m Reynolds and the box is in here,” Cooper opened
the door. “Last time that box arrived it had a pair of eyeballs in it … so, if
it’s not a bomb, don’t be too shocked at what it might be.”

“Thanks for the warning. Stand by.”

Cooper swallowed hard. He may have just made a
complete fool of himself, yet, if there was a bomb—his thought stopped when
Archer nodded several times. “Okay people, it looks like we have a bomb. Clear
out and Delores, pull the fire alarm outside your door.” Within seconds the building
was alive with the loud clanging of the fire alarm and people talking and
nearly running from the building.

“Cooper.” Dallas said. “Doesn’t this seem a bit—“

“Opportunistic?”

“Yes, that’s the word I was looking for. Who don’t we
see right now?”

Cooper glanced around, finding it impossible to spot
any of his team in the swarm of people. “In this crowd it’s difficult to tell.”
The loud, shrill clanking of the fire alarm stopped. “Thank God for that. Damn
thing was getting on my nerves.”

“Our team just brought back evidence on this case. I’d
say we head for the lab.”

“Good idea. You stay here in case that bomb goes off.”
Cooper ran inside, feeling Dallas behind him.

“Not on your life. I’m your backup, remember.”

Cooper smiled and ran down two flights of stairs with
Dallas on his heels. A door click echoed in the empty hallway. Cooper motioned
for Dallas to stop. They waited and listened. Silence answered. They were
wasting time. Cooper cautiously approached the lab doors. He mouthed he’d go in
right, she should go left. Her nod confirmed the plan.

Inching the door open, he moved quickly inside and
Dallas followed. He eased the door shut. They pulled their guns and moved in
opposite directions. The room smelled of alcohol, metal, decaying skin, and a
number of odors Cooper didn’t care to think about. The cold floor echoed his
every move. Even though Dallas advanced slowly and he was sure with care, he
heard the click of each step. Edging his way around a corner, Cooper eased into
the laboratory center.

 
“What the
hell.” Cooper shook his head and holstered his gun.

“Unbelievable. It would have taken longer than a few
minutes to do all this,” Dallas said.

“So what did we have that the killer didn’t want us to
fingerprint? Everything is contaminated. There isn’t a single bit of evidence
left in a bag.”

“Cooper, do you see that silver pen?”

He glanced in every direction searching through the
pile of trashed evidence. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

“Only you and I knew about it.”

“And the killer,” Cooper added.

“You think he realized it was missing and took a guess
we found it?”

“We had him, Dallas. Damn it anyway … we had him and
we just lost him.”

“This confirms the killer is someone close. He’s
smart, cunning, and watching every move we make.”

Cooper opened his cell phone and dialed. “Maxwell,
come straight down to the lab. Talk to no one. Now.” He looked over at Dallas.
“There are two people in this building that I would trust with my life; Maxwell
and Arnott.” Cooper dialed another number. “Come down to the lab. Be
inconspicuous.”

“What the hell did you guys do?” Maxwell shook his
head, taking in the mess.

“Oh, don’t you be looking at us. We got a gut feeling
the bomb threat might have been a diversion. We decided to start at the lab
where our latest evidence was delivered. We found it just like this.” Dallas
took several pictures with her cell phone.

“Damn if this don’t beat all. You know it crossed my
mind that bomb might be bogus. But when the guy said there was real, I thought
I was getting too jumpy. I should have followed my instincts.”

“Damn, this does not look good,” Arnott stopped and
shook his head.

 
Resonates of
people reentering the building replaced the dead silence. Cooper’s phone rang.
“Reynolds.” Cooper listened, then snapped it shut.

“It was a bomb alright. Had you opened that box,
Maxwell, you might have lost a hand and even part of your face. In a small room
like that, we would have sustained a lot of glass projectile. Wouldn’t have
been a pretty sight.”