DRAINED

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Instead of yelling back her reply, the tech exchanged some words with Carson and the pair walked back to the cruiser.

  “They were fresh at the time she was killed,” Ramos said.

  “So, yes, they’re fresh,” Aaron said.

  “Well, no,” the tech said.

  “Which is it?” Aaron asked, drawing his brows down in confusion. “Are they fresh or not?”

  “What she’s trying to tell you is, this victim was frozen,” Carson said.

  “Frozen?” the trio said at once, turning to stare at Ramos.

  “We’ll have to wait on the official autopsy,” she said, “but the core liver temperature is five degrees Celsius. So, about forty in Fahrenheit.”

  “Doesn’t the body usually lose all its heat when it dies?” Brianna asked.

  Ramos shook her head. “Not like this. It loses heat until it reaches the ambient room temperature. I’d say it’s just thawing out. We’ll know more after the lab runs some tests on the cells. But the moisture under the body also suggests she’d been frozen and left here to thaw.”

  “I’d say more posed than simply left,” Carson said, drawing all their attention to him. “May I ask which direction your previous victim was facing?”

  Aaron and Brianna exchanged a puzzled look.

  “East?” she said.

  “Yep. East. Why?” he asked Carson.

  At that moment, the sun broke through the clouds and over the skyline to shine directly on Mia’s face.

  “That’s why.”

  “Why did you call our other guy the previous victim? Don’t you mean first?” Jaylon asked.

  Carson shook his head. “If we’re correct and this woman has been frozen a while, unless we find your other victim was also frozen”—

  “He wasn’t,” Aaron said. “We have eyewitness verification he was alive at least a week ago.”

  The profiler gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, “Then we have to assume, unless we find any other frozen corpses, that this is victim number one.”

  “And something about Mia might have triggered the killer to begin killing,” Brianna said.

  * * *

  “I don’t see why I can’t go to my own apartment,” Paula said, seated in the back of Aaron’s SUV.

  Brianna and Aaron had switched the old beat up sedan for his SUV after Mia’s body had been taken to the county morgue. She’d wanted to go back to the station and answer any other questions he or Special Agent Smith might’ve had about Mia, but Aaron had insisted they needed to get to the hospital to relieve Nana. They’d agreed to meet up with the others in the afternoon to go over the case information that they had so far and hopefully the preliminary autopsy report would be available, although they all believed it would show the same cause of death—a slow torturous draining of all her blood.

  After leaving the others at the crime scene, she and Aaron had walked in just as the doctor finished his visit and decided Paula was well enough to be discharged home, but only if she had someone to help take care of her. That had evolved into a discussion about Paula’s safety and the need for in home care. Paula had bristled at having her independence curtailed, but realized the only way to get out of the hospital was to give in. Now she was reverting to the level of a teenager, whining about doing what was best for her.

  Thinking about how her friend had died, saddened and angered Brianna. She wasn’t losing another one to this maniac.

  “Like we said at the hospital,” she bit out through nearly clenched teeth, half turning in her seat to focus a steely-eyed stare at Paula, “you need care and help getting around right now. We think Stanley may be able to identify Art’s killer, so he needs to be protected. For all we know, you may have come into contact with the killer, too. It makes sense to move both of you to a safehouse until this is solved and you are back on your feet. Get over it or Aaron is turning this car around and taking you right back to the hospital. Got it?”

  Paula let out a huff and turned to stare out the window, her hand stroking over Stanley’s head in her lap. “I get it.”

  Brianna opened her mouth to apologize, then closed it and faced the front once more. She knew she was taking her anger and fear out on Paula, but right now everywhere she looked all she could see was Mia’s lifeless body in that macabre pose. A warm hand settled on hers clenched in her lap. She felt Aaron glance her way, but she just couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she flipped one hand over to hold his in a tight clench.

  Classic rock music filled the silence as they drove west until they turned onto the road leading to the Tudor-style safehouse, one burgundy Cadillac parked in front. They drove past it and Kirk F nodded from the Caddy’s driver seat.

  “This is where I’m staying?” Paula asked, her voice full of awe as they drove around back to the garage.

  “This is it,” Aaron said, stopping to put the security code into the panel and wait for the garage door to open. “Where did you think we were taking you?”

  She chuckled a little. “I figured some fleabag motel like they show on TV.”

  A second SUV was parked in the garage. Brianna glanced at Aaron. “Castello?”

  Aaron shrugged as he pulled in beside the other car. “I’d assume so. He owns the place after all. But just in case,” he said, leaning closer to unlock the glove compartment and pull out his service weapon he’d locked in there earlier. “Why don’t you let me go in first.”

  “Whoa,” Paula said from the backseat, clutching Stanley to her as Aaron climbed out of the front seat and stood with the gun within her sight.

  Aaron tilted his head her direction with one brow arched. “Told you we were bringing you both here for your safety. I meant it.”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  Brianna almost smiled. Seeing Aaron holding a weapon and taking their safety very seriously finally knocked the stubbornness out of her friend. Maybe now Paula would cooperate more in not only her safety, but her recovery, too.

  At that moment the back door opened and the familiar figure of Matt Edgars stepped into the garage, followed closely by his petite wife, Katie, who smiled and waved at Brianna, who let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Aaron shoved his weapon into his shoulder holster and went forward to shake hands with the other man. “Wasn’t sure who was here.”

  “I can see that,” Matt said, shaking hands and clapping Aaron on the back. “Castello said you could use a little help, so here we are.”

  Brianna hurried out of her side to help Paula and Stanley out of the back. “It’s okay, they’re friends,” she said to the pair, who both looked a little wary of the couple. “This is Katie Edgars and that’s her husband Matt. They’re my best friend’s in-laws. They both helped save me years ago.”

  “Abby and Luke are out on the west coast on a mission, and Jake didn’t want to pull them out, so he sent me and Matt,” Katie said coming around to give Brianna a hug, then take Paula by the arm and walking with her into the house. “My husband used to be a State Trooper, but now we both work private security for the family business. Besides, rumor has it you need some extra nursing care, and I just happen to be one.”

  By the time Katie finished her introduction, she had Paula divested of her coat, seated on the leather sofa with her feet elevated, a warm afghan tucked around her and a glass of water in her hands.

  “Drink it all, then get some rest. It’s always amazing how just coming home from the hospital can be exhausting. We’re just going to talk in the kitchen,” she said and took Brianna by the elbow to steer her to the barstools lining the kitchen island, just as Matt and Aaron returned from taking Stanley outside.

  The pup dashed to Brianna’s feet and sat staring up at her, wagging his tail.

  “No, you’re not coming into my lap,” she said. “Go lay down.”

  Stanley bounded into the living room and snuggled in with Paula.

  “He’s very cute. Is he yours?” Katie asked.

  “No,” Aaron answered before Br
ianna could, sliding into the barstool next to her. “He belonged to our first murder victim and is our only witness.”

  “He led us to Art’s body Thursday night,” Brianna hurried to explain. Then she and Aaron took turns filling the other couple in on how they came to be looking for Art, finding Paula ill, her admission to the hospital for pneumonia, Kirk F and Nana’s help, and then finding Mia this morning, choosing not to mention her name. They’d decided to tell Paula later after she’d rested.

  “You two have had a very busy couple of days.” Matt pulled four cans of pop out of the fridge, giving one to each of them. “Castello and Jake only gave us the bare bones of the case.”

  “That’s because that’s all we had when I talked with them yesterday,” Aaron said.

  Katie laughed. “Castello was a little grumpy that you were light on the details.”

  The others all laughed, too. The former Deputy Marshal was known for using as few words as possible when speaking. His wife, Sydney, joked that if you looked up the word taciturn in the dictionary, you’d find Frank’s picture beside it.

  “So why did Jake send you two up here?” Aaron asked, popping the top of his can and taking a long drink of the cold soda.

  “His profiler called him last night,” Katie said. “He’d looked at the files you’d sent him and warned Jake this case would probably turn into something big.”

  Matt stared straight at Aaron. “He said you’d be pretty consumed with it. Jake and Castello decided if you were protecting a witness, then you might need some round the clock security. Kirk F is helpful, but he’s still untrained. With Luke and Abby unavailable, they thought we might fit the bill.”

  “And with me you get a security specialist and nurse all in one,” Katie said with a cocky grin.

  “What about your son, Russell?” Brianna asked.

  “Matt’s parents have him. He’ll be spoiled rotten by the time we get home,” Katie said. “But since it’s time I got back to work, Jake thought this would be a good first assignment and could use my skills with little danger to me. At least we hope so.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Paula hates hospitals and we’re lucky to have kept her in for two nights,” Brianna said, with a nod towards the couch. “If Kirk F’s nana hadn’t taken charge, I doubt we’d have convinced her to stay there the first night.”

  “Nana and the promise that we’d continue her search for Art. If we hadn’t made her that promise, I have no doubt she would’ve discharged herself and gone back out looking,” Aaron added. “Your friend isn’t just stubborn, but very loyal. I like that.”

  “What I want to know is why your killer is draining them of all their blood,” Matt said. “What’s the significance in that? And how is he doing it?”

  “The why’s of what he’s doing is probably something Jake’s profiler might be able to answer, but the how is probably the same method used by blood donation centers,” Katie explained, drawing all their attention. “The patient, or in our case victim, is hooked up to an IV angiocath large enough for blood to pass through in the arm and it slowly drains out the blood out, collecting in a specially made bag to be stored for later use.”

  “So, just gravity?” Aaron asked.

  “Usually. Why?”

  He inhaled and exhaled. “I was hoping there was a machine involved. Something we could trace.”

  Katie shrugged. “There is a machine that can be used to sort the blood cells from the plasma and platelets, but then it sends the red blood cells back into the patient.”

  “That’s not happening. According to our coroner investigator, this guy’s collecting it all.”

  “Maybe he is using a machine,” Brianna started to say, an idea forming in her head. “What if he could hack the machine to actually pull out the blood and save it all.”

  “Bypassing the return to the patient ability?” Katie nodded. “Would be much more efficient than the slow process of draining the blood. The heart would lose its power to pump blood at some point, and gravity-based blood drainage would probably trickle down to the point the cells would clump and clog the tubing.”

  Brianna looked at Aaron. “Art had a hole like one for an IV in his arm. Did Mia?”

  He nodded. “Left antecubital space, same as Art.”

  “Well, that gives us the how,” Matt said. “Wonder how you get one of these machines? How much it costs?”

  “I would imagine several thousands of dollars,” his wife answered. “Unless he bought a used one somewhere. He’d also have to buy IV equipment, the right size tubing and bags to store it in, if he’s storing it.” She gave a shudder. “I don’t even want to think about what he’s doing with the blood.”

  “I have just the person to do some research on supplies and machinery.” Matt pulled out his phone and started pressing numbers. “Kirk F, you tired of doing guard duty?”

  17

  I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” Brianna said as they rode the elevator in the homicide unit’s building.

  Aaron squeezed her hand. He’d been holding it since they parked in the underground garage. “You’re here, because you know one of the victims and helped search for the other. You are extremely smart and think outside the box. Jaylon does too, a little, but we’re policemen. We tend to approach a case based on motive and circumstantial evidence. You bring a different perspective and I’ve got a hunch that solving this is going to take all of us and our talents working together.”

  “Well, if you put it like that, I guess I’ll stick around.”

  He grinned down at her. “I think you should.”

  The elevator stopped and he released her hand. She missed the contact immediately but understood. This was his job. He had to show professionalism, especially if he wanted to bring in an outsider. Despite what he’d just said, she doubted including her in the investigation was anything close to protocol. Another reason he was different than any other man in her life. He’d put her above his needs, even putting his job at risk.

  He led her to a conference room where Carson and Jaylon were already seated talking with an older, thin man. When he stood to be introduced, she realized he was a couple inches shorter than her five feet nine inches.

  “This is my boss, Captain Stedaman,” Aaron said. “This is Brianna Matthews, sir. A friend of the victim discovered today. She has also been involved with the case from the beginning. Actually, she’s the reason we even have a case.”

  The firmness in Aaron’s voice leant authority to his belief that she should remain involved and the point was not lost on Captain Stedaman.

  “Please have a seat, Ms. Matthews,” he said, motioning one of two chairs opposite his. Once they were all seated, Aaron next to her, the captain leaned back and fixed Aaron with a you’re-getting-your-way-for-now-but-don’t-test-me look. “I’d like to hear everything that has happened from the beginning.”

  “I asked Detective Jeffers to accompany me Wednesday to check on my friend. She’d been absent from work and wasn’t answering her phone,” Brianna said, wanting to be sure the Stedaman understood Aaron had been helping her when they stumbled into this case.

  “And this is the woman found this morning?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” Aaron said. “We found Paula alive, but very ill.”

  “She’d been out searching for a friend who was homeless and contracted pneumonia,” Brianna explained. “So, we got her to stay in the hospital for treatment by promising to take Stanley out to search for her friend.”

  “And Stanley is?”

  “That would be the four-legged witness,” Jaylon said with a half-grin.

  Aaron shot him a you’re-not-helping-glare, which only made the younger officer struggle harder to keep from laughing. Brianna cast a glance at Carson expecting to see the same thing. Only, he wasn’t. He was staring off into space as if he were somewhere else.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  The profiler blinked as if coming back to the homicide conference room. “No
thing. What happened next?”

  Her gaze met Aaron’s. He was as puzzled by Carson’s actions as she was.

  “Paula explained Art never went anywhere without Stanley. That’s how she knew something was wrong. We began a systematic search for Art, our first victim,” Aaron said. “We hit the homeless shelters in the area he’d last been seen. Then Stanley led us to the abandoned factory where we found Art. You know all the details from there.”

  “And you were friends with the victim found this morning?” Stedaman asked Brianna.

  “Yes. She was a resident at the secure women’s shelter. I work there as an accountant. Mia lived there up until a year ago.” She stopped and willed back the tears that threatened again. Crying for her friend wouldn’t help her. Finding her murderer was what mattered now.

  “And the preliminary autopsy report confirms what we suspected. She was frozen immediately after she was killed,” Jaylon said.

  The captain’s brows slammed down in confusion. “Was your other victim frozen?”

  “No,” Aaron answered.

  “So, this guy is changing his MO? And his victimology?” This was directed at Carson.

  “Not necessarily. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough crime scenes to determine what his scenario for killing is. So far, we know he’s killed one man and one woman. One white, one mixed Asian descent. One old, one young.”

  “So far?” Stedaman asked, focusing in on the Special Agent. “You think there will be more?”

  “Or there already is.”

  “What do you mean already?” Brianna asked, glancing at each of the men’s faces etched with worry and resignation.

  “This killer is methodical, precise, organized. Practiced. He has a routine.”

  “Cleaning the bodies thoroughly,” she said, understanding what he meant. “Isn’t that just to hide any trace evidence?” Watching crime scene shows these past three years at least let her have the right terminology.

  “It does provide that benefit—”