by Peggy Dulle
"Hit my head. Can you stitch me up quickly so I can get out of here?"
"I'll be the judge of that. Now sit still and let me work," she barked.
I dialed a few more numbers and ignored Glenda as she tried to stitch my wound.
"Damn it all to hell, Connie. If you don't hold still I'm going to stitch my finger to your head!"
I woke Matt up and sent him to the Parsonville Airport to pickup John, Sheryl, Jake and the rest of the agents. He would get them here without talking their ears off.
“You'll need to take someone with you. I'm not sure exactly how many agents will be there and I need Aaron to do something at the station for me.”
“No problem, Chief,” Matt said. “I'll get my older brother, David. He's got a car. We'll get them here if we have to make several trips.”
“Thanks.” Then I called Aaron and sent him to the station to clear out our one and only conference room. We hadn't used it for anything but storage in years.
“That room is packed to the ceiling with boxes and crap. Where do you want me to put all the stuff, Chief?” Aaron whined.
“I don't care. Stick it in one of the jail cells.”
“Okay, but I don't think I can lift some of the boxes. I'll give Matt a call.”
“No, I sent him to the airport,” I told Aaron.
“I'll get help, don't worry about it, Chief.”
As I disconnected from Aaron, my cell phone rang.
“Hello.”
Bob’s voice chattered, “I've got the pictures, Chief. Boy, was Dr. Radcliff mad that I got her out of bed to make new sketches.”
“Too bad. Do you recognize either of the pictures?”
“Nope, they just look like regular teenage girls to me.”
“Well, I thought they looked familiar, but that was before I blacked out. Maybe I won't recognize them once I see them again.”
“I've got my lights and sirens blaring, so I'll be there soon. Where are you going to be?”
I glanced at Glenda. “How much longer?”
“A couple more minutes to stitch you up, then you should stay here overnight for observation.”
I shook my head at the doctor. “I'll be at the station.” I closed my phone.
"Connie, you probably have a concussion. You may black out again.”
“I don't have time for a concussion, Doc.”
“A concussion is not something you can decide to have later, Connie.”
“Well, if I pass out, I'll have someone give you a call.” I got off the table.
"Don't you dare. My shift is over in a few minutes. If you pass out, you call Dan. He's used to getting only a few hours of sleep." She combed her fingers through her hair. "I can't stay this beautiful if I don't get eight hours of sleep after a shift. Now get the hell out of here. I've got other people to see before I'm done."
It always sounded funny when people used Doc's first name. But I guess Glenda couldn't call her boyfriend Doc when she was a doctor, too. She shook her head at me as I left the room. I had work to do. William had been there to save me last time and I wouldn't let him down.
When I arrived at the station, Aaron had his younger twin brothers helping him clean out the conference room. What would it have been like growing up in a house with five boys? I didn't have any brothers or sisters, and there weren't many times that I was sorry I was an only child. But when you needed help, they certainly came in handy.
I walked over to Aaron, who was supervising rather than lifting a single box. “How's it going?”
“We're almost done," Aaron said, causing his brothers to give him a dirty look.
I nodded to Jacob and Jason. “Thanks for helping.”
“No problem, Chief,” they said in unison.
“What do you want us to put into the conference room?” Aaron asked.
“Roll in a large whiteboard and put it against one of the walls. Get a table and move one of the computers in there too.”
“I can set up the computer for you, Chief,” Jacob said.
“Yeah, he's a computer wiz,” Jason added.
“Thanks, but no hacking into the White House, Jacob, just hook up the computer.”
He smiled. “Okay, Chief.”
“Anything else, Chief?” Aaron asked.
“Just a table and all the chairs you can round up. We'll have quite a few Feds joining us.”
“Do you want me to let our mom know?” Jason asked.
“I hadn't thought of that, but yes. Tell her to get the rooms ready.” Their mother ran a local bed and breakfast inn. It was usually packed all winter with snow skiers, then again in the spring and summer with people who liked to hike in the mountains or camp and boat at Lake Arroyo. The only time Arroyo was pretty empty was now, in the fall with all the rain and lousy weather. I liked fall, not because of the weather, but it meant only a few tourists in my town. Now I would have federal agents instead.
“How many rooms does she have available right now?”
“She's empty right now. The last couple left yesterday. We figured it would be quiet until the snow falls in the mountains,” Jason said.
“She'll be glad to have the business,” Jacob added.
“Thanks,” I told the two brothers.
I went into my office and dialed William's cell phone. No answer. I hadn't expected any, but thought maybe the Jackal would pick it up and give me some clues as to where William was located. The Jackal would call when he was ready to gloat.
A few minutes later, Bob stuck his head into my office and held up an envelope. “I've got those pictures for you, Chief. Do you want to see them now or should I put them on your desk?”
“Let me see them.”
Bob handed me the pictures and I took them out. The girls looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place them.
“Do you know them?” Bob asked, interrupting my speculation.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
Bob shrugged. “I’m going to go and help set up the conference room for your Fed friends.”
I spent the next couple of hours pacing in my office intermixed with calling William’s cell phone. I was sure the Jackal would answer every time, but he didn’t.
Around five-thirty, I heard a huge racket come from the front of the station - people talking, chairs moving, cases being set on the floor, and Jake's very loud voice. The Feds were in the building.
Bob stuck his head in. “Your friends are here.”
“Thanks, put them in the conference room.”
“Okay, Chief.”
I took several deep breaths, settling a panic attack that tried to explode in my body. Since I had seen the ring and the note, my system had been fueled by adrenaline and the need to organize the search. Now that the Feds were here, they'd try to take over. But I couldn't let them. I needed to stay in command or I would fall apart.
Matthew stuck his head into my office. He looked rested and happy. It was a far cry from when I saw him two days ago.
He stepped into my office, closed the door, and sat down in the chair in front of my desk. “How are you doing, Connie?”
“I'm fine,” I lied. It had always been easy to lie to him because he never expected it. Maybe if he were less trusting, he would have figured out that I lied all those months ago when I told him everything was okay, and I wouldn't have gone to William.
“You look good behind that desk,” he said. The soft rolling pitch of his voice made it clear that his words were meant as a compliment. It felt good.
“I'm surprised to see you. You usually stay in D.C. What brings you here?”
“I feel like I owe it to William.”
I stood. “I've had a conference room set up as a command center. Let's go.”
“Sit down, Connie,” he said. “I'd like to talk to you before we start on the case.”
I sat back down. The knot in my stomach tightened. Now what? More bad news? “What can I do for you, Matthew?”
“I don't want thi
s to be uncomfortable.”
“What?”
“You, me, Sheryl…,” his voice trailed off.
“It won't be, Matthew,” I kept my voice cool and clipped to hide the emotions that rose to the surface. First the Jackal grabbed William and now Matthew was here with his new girlfriend to help me find him? I pushed out a smile and lied some more. “You and I are divorced. Sheryl's your girlfriend. That's it.”
“Did Sheryl tell you that I'm seeing a psychologist?”
“No.” The knot in my stomach exploded, sending bile up into my throat. I swallowed and kept smiling.
“Yes. She wouldn't go out with me until I did.”
Great. He would go to a therapist for her but not when I wanted him to go. I didn't answer, just stood up again.
He put his hand out. “Wait, I have something I need to say to you.”
“Can't it wait until we find William and catch the Jackal?”
“No, it can't.” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to say that I'm sorry. You went through a terrible ordeal and I didn't support you. Basically, I ignored the entire situation.”
“Yes, you did.” My voice rose as my stomach tightened with each word. The anger I felt for him during that time returned like it had never left. “You were a total ass.”
He flinched, but nodded. “You're right, I was.”
“I didn't ask to be kidnapped, raped, stabbed, left for dead, or to lose our baby.” My voice trembled. I couldn't control it or the way I felt. Jake had said that someday I would explode. I didn't have time to do it now.
“No, you didn't.” Matthew shot me a sorrowful, beseeching look.
“And then I came home and you ignored me. You wouldn't touch me or hold me or help me. I begged you to go to a marriage counselor with me, desperate to save our marriage.” I shouted.
“I know, Connie.” Matthew nodded, sympathetically.
This wasn't getting us anywhere, but it felt good to finally yell at him. I sighed deeply. “Damn it, Matthew. I loved you from the first day I met you and you abandoned me.”
He leaned forward and took my hand in his. “I know, Connie. I loved you from the first moment I saw you, too. I'm so sorry that I couldn't handle what happened. And then your panic attacks wouldn’t let me even get near you. Only William could get close and then you let him get even closer. You made the choice.” He spoke gently and calmly, like a rehearsed speech, but his words were blunt and hurtful. He still blamed me? Obviously the therapy wasn't working.
I took a deep breath to stifle the desire to reach for my gun and shoot him. The big thing to do would be to forgive him, to say “That's okay, Matthew,” but it wasn't okay and I wasn't ready to say it. Time to lie some more. “Well, Matthew, it's in the past now. Let's move forward.”
His expression changed from wretchedness to determination. The muscles in his face tightened, jaw set with resolve. Again, we were just two agents doing a job, no emotions. “Let's find William and finally, put the Jackal behind bars.”
“That's a good plan.”
I left my office, Matthew followed. When we got to the conference room, I deliberately left the door open. I'd need to know that I had an escape route to keep down a full scale panic attack. Jake and several agents I didn't know sat at the table. Sheryl typed on the computer. Everyone lifted their heads and gaped at us when we came in.
Sheryl glanced from Matthew to me, then back to Matthew. “Everything okay?”
We both nodded.
“Then what was all that yelling about?” Jake asked. There was a hard-nosed quality to his voice I had never heard before. I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. He leaned back, put up his hands, and said, “Okay, forget I asked.”
Matthew introduced me to the other agents. I kept my back to the open door while I shook their hands and thanked them for coming.
We sat down at the table and I showed them the note. John reviewed the last episode with the Jackal, how he changed his M.O. and why, and how it had ended. Everyone looked at Sheryl.
She frowned. “I'm okay, get on with it.”
Bob stuck his head in the door. “Chief, Cheryl Burton is on the line. Do you want to take it or shall I tell her to go away?”
John looked over at me. “If you want to take care of something, Connie, go ahead. It will take me a little while to bring these agents up to speed.”
I nodded and walked out of the conference room.
“I’ll take her call in my office,” I told Bob, then added, “Follow me. I want you to make several copies of the pictures. I want these two girls’ pictures in several newspapers and on every morning news show tomorrow.”
“Sure, Chief.”
When I got into my office I grabbed the pictures and gave them to Bob. Then I sat at my desk and answered, “Chief Davenport.”
“I see a lot of Feds have arrived in our town. What’s going on, Chief?”
“And good morning to you, Cheryl,” I said.
Cheryl blew out an exasperated breath. “Good morning, Chief.” The pleasantries over, she added, “What’s going on?”
“First, I’m sending over pictures of two girls. Can you get them out on the wire to the newspapers and make sure they are shown on the morning news shows?”
“I can do that, sure. Who are the girls?”
“A forensic artist’s interpretation of the two skulls we had left over after we returned all the washed up graveyard bones to their families.”
“We had leftover bones?” Cheryl’s voice elevated in excitement since this information hadn’t been released to the media yet.
“I will give you a full account of that later today.”
“Is that why all the Feds are here?”
I didn’t really want to explain about William yet, so I lied. “Yes.”
“Okay, Chief. Send me the pictures and I’ll get them out to everyone. I’ll stop by the station later to get the rest of the story.”
I hung up with Cheryl just as Bob knocked on my door, I nodded, and he came in and handed me two sets of the girls’ pictures – the originals and a set of copies. I put the original back into the envelope and set the others on my desk.
My cell phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Connie,” said the mechanical voice of the Jackal.
“Where's William?” I asked as I stared at the pictures of the two girls.
“Well hidden, Connie.”
“Why would you take him? You only like women.” I picked up a black pen from my desk and started on my copies of the pictures.
“I took you and he saved you. So now you could save him, Connie.”
“Is he all right?” I colored the girls' hair black.
“For now he is.”
“Will he be alive long enough for me to find him?” I gave the girls spiked hair.
“Sure, but you need to find him fast.” The Jackal laughed. “His time is slipping away.”
I tried to keep him talking, hoping he'd let something slip that would give away William's position.
“Do you want me to get the Feds?” Bob leaned forward and whispered.
I shook my head and mouthed, “Wait.”
I glanced down idly at the pictures. Then it hit me. I knew where I had seen the girls before. It was a long time ago, against a wall of the diner, hanging out with Ron. It was a few days before he moved away with his mother.
“Are you listening to me, Connie?” The Jackal bellowed.
My attention went back to the phone. “Of course I am.”
“Well, Connie. Your William is running out of time.”
“He's not my William,” I shouted back.
“And that stupid writer is more your type?”
“Leave Jay out of this.”
“Find William, Connie. I think he probably has four or five hours left.” And he hung up.
Stupid man, stupid Jackal. What did he mean that Jay wasn’t my type? How did he know about Jay? And how did he know what my type was?
&
nbsp; I got up and paced around my office.
“Chief?” Bob's face was pale, his eyes held a steady look of dread.
“Let me think,” I shook my head vigorously.
What did it all mean? The Jackal knew about my dating Jay? If he was here because he had taken William, he might have seen us together last night. But how could the Jackal know Jay was a writer?
The Jackal attacked arbitrary women in random cities, with the only connection between the cities being normal stores, restaurants, and the usual city spots. The two girls I had seen Ron with were dead. The hesitation marks on one of the girl's ribs. A first kill?
The Jackal didn't take trophies like most serial killers. Ron and Erma went to random cities looking for new recipes for the diner. Those recipes turned into specialties -- trophies from kills? That's why nothing was ever taken from the victims. It was taken from the city. Ron was the Jackal!
Chapter 30
I shot up as betrayal and anger spiked through my body. Ron was someone I considered a friend. “Take Aaron and Matt. Get over to the diner and pick up Erma and Ron. They usually come in early to make fresh bread for the day.”
“Why?” Bob's face crinkled in confusion.
“Don't ask questions, just do it,” I shouted. “I'll explain later.”
“But what if they don't want to come?” he asked.
“Use your gun!”
Bob's eyes widened, but he turned and stumbled out of my office. “Okay, I'm going,” he shouted over his shoulder.
I picked up the girls’ pictures and sprinted to the conference room. The adrenaline rush that had served me well during my FBI career had kicked in. No emotion, no anxiety - just steady nerves coupled with a determination to catch a killer.
“Stop!” I said as I came through the door.
John stood at the front of the room, talking and writing on the white board. The others sat around an oval conference table. Everyone looked at me.
“Here are the Jackal's first two victims.” I tossed the pictures and they slid across the table.
“What?” Jake scooped up the pictures. “Where'd you get these?”
“It's a long story. Just know that the Jackal is Ron Jolsen. He and his wife own a diner in town.”
