The Killing Ground: A Foxx Files Thriller (3 page)

Jordan gave her a mental tick mark. Detective Foxx was all for a joint investigation, as long as she controlled the information being shared with the FBI. That and Matty’s normal charms didn't affect her in the least. “Detective Foxx, I give you my word that the FBI’s involvement is under the radar. You won’t see the normal bullying tactics. We can’t risk the public knowing that we have an interest in this case. And believe me when I tell you, we are just as interested in catching the UNSUB, so whatever assistance we can provide each other will be handled with professional courtesy.”

Detective Foxx studied Jordan’s face a few moments longer, weighing her words. Naturally wary, she was trying to put the common good ahead of her natural instincts to protect her turf. Finally, she decided she could take her at her word, but she left no doubt as to the consequences if the FBI pushed her too hard. “I hope I don’t regret this,
Special
Agent Gray. Nothing shuts the CDD up faster than hearing that information pertinent to an investigation has been leaked.”

Jordan nodded. “Understood.” Jordan hated this political BS, but in this case, it was necessary. What she really wanted to do was flash her badge and tell Detective Foxx to go fuck herself, or at the very least, Jordan could take care of that. Without the glare, she would probably register on Jordan’s radar anyway.
Maybe when this is over, I can show her who is boss.
But instead, she was here playing nicey nice and her badge meant nothing.

Jordan hid a smirk. She’d had a weakness for redheads. There was a definite air about Detective Foxx. Maybe she would try a different tactic. She always got more Intel from someone when their badge was on her nightstand. She leaned forward and licked her lips, her blue eyes holding Detective Foxx’s emerald-green ones. “So now that we got that all straightened out, what do you have for us?”

Matt watched Jordan out of the corner of his eye and swallowed a laugh. Whatever she saw in the Detective, he didn’t share her opinion. Although she had ignored him completely, so maybe she was a lesbian. It surprised him to see her roll her eyes in reply to Jordan’s subtle advances.

“Let me guess Agent Gray, this is the part where I’m supposed to swoon because you are so handsome and give up my hand in this case?” Rebecca leveled her gaze at Jordan. “Let me let you in on a little secret. I didn’t get where I am today by getting weak in the knees every time some badge with a power trip batted their eyes at me. You can put your dick back in your pants.”

Matt snickered, and Jordan rewarded him with a glare. He suddenly realized that maybe he did have a shot with the lovely Detective Foxx. “Sorry.” He muttered under his breath, all the while trying to mask the smirk on his face.

Jordan felt the heat rise in her face. It had been a long time since someone put her in her place like that. Properly chastised, Jordan dropped her eyes playing the penitent role to appease Detective Foxx. She regretted her decision to throw sex into the mix and hoped for the sake of the case, she didn’t fuck up the Detective’s offer to share information. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, Detective.”

“I don’t play games, Agent. I know this whole adorable bad-guy routine is something you’re used to getting your way with, but I can assure you, I am no more interested in you than you are in Agent Riley.”

Game, set and match to Detective Foxx, Jordan thought. Very quickly, the rules of the game had been established. Jordan was benched before she even had the chance to swing. “Very well, Detective. No games.”

Again, Rebecca’s emerald eyes studied Jordan, this time looking beyond the façade and into her soul. This time she was almost convinced she had the upper hand…
almost.
“Agents, the information that I’m going to share with you is highly confidential. It stays here. Don’t make me regret this.”

They both nodded. They did not need to be told that protocol dictated that the information they received here would definitely be shared in their own circles, but it would stop there.

Rebecca pulled a file out of her drawer and opened it up. She handed Jordan a thin file. “We don’t have much. So far, he’s been clean. No DNA left at the scene."

“No sperm?” Matt asked incredulously. “Not even trace amounts? Nothing?”

“That’s what I said, Agent Riley. This guy’s good…or was.” Rebecca smiled mysteriously. “Until last night’s case.”

“How so?” Jordan asked quickly.

“Last night he got spooked and pulled out…so to speak. The condom came off inside the victim…” Rebecca saw Jordan wince. “I’m sorry, I mean Ms. Keppler. It’s the first break in the case we’ve gotten.”

“It usually happens that way, Detective.” Jordan opined. “The UNSUB thinks he’s the first smart criminal and bam, he does something stupid.”

“Did you get a hit in the Combined DNA Index System?” Matt interrupted. Jordan was emotionally involved already. He didn’t think that her relationship with their boss was any closer than his. Sure, they were both lesbians, but that hardly qualified them as best friends. However, he knew his partner, and she was already invested in this case more than she should have been. That’s when agents got sloppy, overlooked things, made mistakes when their brain stopped controlling the shots, and their heart took over.

“No, if our suspect has committed crimes before this, he’s never been arrested.” Rebecca thumbed through several more pages. “The only thing that kept Ms. Keppler alive was a homeless guy. It turns out they were in his alley. Spooked the perp before he could kill her.”

Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat. Here they were talking about Julie as if she were just another victim, a number in the CDD’s or FBI’s database, like she was just one more faceless person in a long line of faceless people. She was frustrated beyond belief. She had never had to put a face to the victim, never had to personalize the case. She felt a mixture of helplessness and fury swirling around inside her gut. Her next words were spoken through gritted teeth. “How many?”

Rebecca looked confused. “How many what?”

“Victims. How many victims were there before Julie?”

“Six.” Rebecca let the number sink in. She could tell it shocked them. “At least that we could tie to this case. That’s over a span of two years. If he changed his MO at any time, we wouldn’t have tied it back to this one.”

Matt leaned forward. He could see Jordan’s hands clenched on the arms of her chair, and he needed to give her a chance to cool down. “What’s his MO?”

“This is where it gets bad.” She looked at Jordan, concern on her features. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

Jordan nodded her head. She forced herself to exhale, realizing that she had been holding her breath, only seconds from passing out. “I need to. If I’m going to be any help, I need to know what this monster is doing. I need to be able to get inside his head.”

Rebecca nodded. She didn’t know the exact nature of Special Agent Gray and Assistant Director Mitchell’s relationship, but she imagined it went beyond the normal working acquaintance. “From what we can piece together from time of death, he strikes at night. He carries a knife, most likely forces them into an alley with that. Forces them down on their stomach, slits their throat, and as a final, demeaning blow, rapes them and takes the baby.”

Jordan bit her lip. The more she found out, the angrier she got. She took several deep breaths and willed herself to calm down, stay impersonal and focused. “Any similarities?”

“They were all pregnant, other than that, nothing. Didn’t work together, didn’t travel in the same circles. Not much to go on.” Rebecca smiled ruefully. “You can see why I want to catch this guy. He’s a fucking monster.”

“Can we get a sample of the DNA?” Jordan asked quickly. “We can run it in the National DNA Index System and see if we get a hit.”

“Sure, as long as…”

Jordan put her hand up. “I know, as long as it stays in this office.”

“Most likely he will strike again soon.” Matt interrupted the latest push for power. “We have to figure he’s pissed off about Julie. He’s going to be out for blood, get his retribution for not getting the kill.”

Jordan had to give consideration to Matt’s idea. His major in college had been psych and had he not wanted to be in the field, could have had a perfectly decent career as an FBI profiler. Hopefully, they could put that to good use. She gave him a cautionary glance to keep him from divulging anymore. The FBI could have secrets just as easily as the CDD. “What’s the time frame between each victim?”

Rebecca checked her notes. “At first, he was sporadic. The first three averaged every six months. The latest three happened within the last six months.”

“So one every two months. He’s moving further away from reality, and it’s upping his need to kill.” Jordan rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Think you can provide us with a copy of the file? It’s for research.”

Rebecca covered her files protectively. “I’m sure you know I can’t do that, Agent Gray.”

Jordan leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk, bringing her closer to Rebecca’s face. Her green eyes were suspicious of Jordan’s move, as she expected they would be. She was entering her personal space. “We all agreed our main goal was to catch this guy before anyone else gets killed. I’m not asking so I can take something away from the CDD, Detective, I’m asking so I can try to save the next woman, and her child before he picks them.”

Rebecca sat quietly, turning Jordan’s words over in her head. She seemed more earnest in those few seconds than she had since she walked in the door. “Fine. I’ll see that you get copies. I swear to you, Agent Gray, if any of this gets out and jeopardizes my investigation, I will have your head, FBI or not.” Content that she had gotten her point across, Rebecca stood up. “Come with me.”

Chapter 3

She ushered them out into the Bull Pen, the large area where the majority of the detectives sat, questioned witnesses, discussed case details and worked leads. It was still early, and aside from a few stragglers here and there, the place was eerily empty. Wooden desks arranged in some forgotten fashion filled the room. The uncomfortable rolling chairs that squeaked when a person moved, sat haphazardly behind each grizzled old desk. In the air, the smell of sweat and determination mingled with something else, something sweeter hung in the air.

Jordan saw several orange and pink donut boxes stacked on a desk near the back. Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for the owner. Her stomach grumbled of its own accord, and she remembered there hadn’t been time to eat.

Rebecca stood still for a moment, a frown marring her features. “Rick?”

A few seconds later, a short, stocky man Jordan put in his early forties, came from around the corner carrying two coffee mugs. He shot Rebecca a sheepish grin. “Hey, boss.”

Rebecca looked as if she may address the offense, but thought better of it. “Jesus, Jonesy. You keep eating this shit and I’m going to have to roll your fucking fat ass everywhere we go.”

“Sorry, boss.” Rick Jones, or Jonesy, to everyone in Grand, smiled and made an attempt to wipe errant flecks of glaze of his face. His eyes shifted to Jordan and Matt, and he threw Rebecca a questioning glance.

She shook her head imperceptibly then introduced them. A silent message had passed between them, and Jordan knew without a doubt, there would be more conversation about them when they left.

“Agents Gray and Riley, this fat ass stuffing his damn face, is my partner, Rick Jones.” She nodded towards the agents.  “It would seem the
overly
generous FBI has offered some assistance in tracking down our serial killer.”

Rick nodded swiftly with none of the censures that Rebecca had given them. Jordan nodded, and as Matt stepped forward to offer a quick, conciliatory handshake, she took a moment to study him. His suit was dated, and she could see telltale signs of forgotten grease stains on his shirt. His tie hung haphazardly. His hair, a few weeks past a haircut, hung over his collar. His face was lined with the deep crevasses of someone who had seen a great deal, and been through a lot more, and she couldn’t swear to it, but would almost bet there was a flash of welcome relief in his eyes at help from the outside. Obviously not married or dating, she thought he fit the stereotype for a hardened old cop.

He smiled warmly, and Jordan was forced to amend her take on him. He pumped Matt’s hand up and down as though they were lifelong friends, and Jordan half expected to see him pull Matt into a bear hug. Where Detective Foxx was cold and unapproachable, Detective Jones was the polar opposite. She saw the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she was forced to admit that this was a man who smiled a lot.

He held up a box. “You guys want breakfast?”

Rebecca’s jaw tightened. It was one thing to be civil. It was an entirely different thing to offer her squad’s breakfast to the enemy. He reddened at the apparent faux pas, but couldn’t take back the offer. Jordan and Matt saved him from further embarrassment when they politely declined. Jordan figured the poor guy probably already had it bad enough without them making it worse.

Jordan’s gaze met Rebecca’s inquisitive one, and she faltered, wondering what Rebecca saw in her eyes. The corner of her mouth turned up as if to say I can see inside you.

Rebecca answered with another roll of her eyes. “Let’s get to it. Jonesy?”

They had obviously been together long enough that he needed no explanation. He pulled a large whiteboard towards them and flipped it around.

It was covered with the autopsy pictures of the six previous victims, all marked with a date. The only difference was that Julie’s picture was one of her still alive, and yet, despite the fact that she had survived, Jordan still flinched at the sight. Detachment was one of the ways she dealt with crime, and this case didn’t allow for that. It reached inside her soul with a cold hand.

Rebecca waited until they pulled chairs up and sat down. “This is what we have so far. First murder happened in June, 2009. Kate Stevenson. Twenty—seven year old white female. Second, in December of 2009. Amy Perez. Thirty—three year old Hispanic female.” She pointed at each victim and provided their vital stats. “All pregnant, and in each case, the MO was identical, down to taking the baby. Jonesy?”