by Ali Vali
“Thank you, ma’am,” Nathan said, bending so Della could kiss his cheek.
“Still won’t save you from the phone if it rings,” Sept said, and Della glared at her.
“Sit down, heathen, and try to act civilized. Any more comments out of you and I’ll make you wear something with lace for the wedding.” Della smiled when she pulled out her chair, unfurled her napkin, and placed it in her lap before the waiter could do it. “We’ll make a restaurateur out of you yet.”
“It can be my fallback if this cop thing doesn’t work out,” she teased.
“You might have more options than that if you can conjure up more good-looking men to show up at my door.” Della pointed to Cain’s man now standing right inside the open door of the office, as if to stay out of the way. “That young man appeared today and said he’s not going anywhere. Any clue as to where he came from?”
“You mean there’s something you don’t know?” she asked, trying to convey shock.
“I spoke to Cain,” Della said, rolling her eyes. “I know all, which you should keep in mind should you ever think about developing a roving eye.”
“That’ll never be a problem, so you cooperate and don’t try to ditch your new heavily armed friend.”
Della had opened her mouth to retort when the maître ’d came in walking backward, obviously trying to stop someone from following him. Nicole Voles didn’t seem deterred as she pushed the guy out of the way. But everything did stop when the guy assigned to Keegan unholstered both his guns. It was impressive how quickly they were in his hands, leaving no doubt how fast he’d fire if Keegan was in danger.
“Whoa,” Nicole said, her hands up.
Keegan stood behind Sept, who’d reacted as quickly minus the guns. “Ms. Voles,” she said, not moving and feeling Keegan’s hand on her back. “I believe Ms. Blanchard asked you not to come back. You have plenty of places to choose from to keep returning to a place you’re not welcome. You seem intelligent enough to figure that one out.”
The way Nicole smiled and glanced around her at Keegan made the urge to punch her in the throat hard to fight. “Zagat rated this place the best in the city for the heat in the kitchen, which I can certainly attest to, and the hospitality,” Nicole said and chuckled. “I haven’t gotten around to eating here, but so far I’m not feeling the second part of the equation.”
“Lady,” Cain’s guy said, but Sept’s ringing phone stopped him.
Sept glanced at it for a second, not wanting to take her attention off Nicole. It was a blocked caller, so she had no choice but to answer it. “Savoie.”
“May I call you Sept?” The mechanical voice was getting old, but after the video footage, Sept understood the need for it. Someone’s walk didn’t confirm their gender, but their voice certainly did. “After all, we’ve experienced so much together.”
“What can I do for you, Hunter?” She nodded at the guard, and Keegan and Nathan followed her into the office.
“I wanted to see if you enjoyed my eye-opening gift,” Hunter said and laughed. “The little warrior’s girlfriend was such a lovely prize.”
“I’d think gloating and self-promotion were beneath a capable woman like you,” she said as Nathan called this in since she’d agreed to a wiretap on her phone. The killer had engaged with her, not to gloat, but to get to know her last victim before moving on. There was no reason not to exploit that possibility.
“Are you so sure of yourself, Detective? Or can you only make deductions when you have a fifty percent chance of guessing correctly?” Hunter laughed again, then stopped abruptly as if it wasn’t something she was used to doing. “You didn’t enjoy my gifts at all? You should feel some comfort in figuring out my riddle with enough time to live.”
“You killed a woman who’d dedicated herself to community policing,” Sept said. Nathan sucked in a breath, and Keegan moved to him and held his hand. “Why would anyone get any pleasure from that?”
“We’ll have to agree that you’re wrong. The altars Judy completed were something to be admired. Once the word spreads, my religion will gain followers, and we’ll entertain ourselves by watching you chase only what I deem necessary. None of it will lead to anything.”
“Why call, then? Is that part of your game?” If wishes weren’t child’s play, someone would grant her the ability to reach through the phone and beat this bitch to death with her voice manipulator.
“The game is paramount, so don’t forget it. It’s my existence, and I’ll never tire of it.” Hunter paused, but Sept could still hear heavy breathing.
“Are you losing your grip?” She glanced out to the kitchen at the way Nicole was staring at her. Nicole’s gaze was so intense she thought maybe she was trying to read her lips. “Is this the only way you think you’ll earn respect? Teacher isn’t real, and Alex Perlis will end up with a needle in his arm for the abominations he did in the name of your so-called religion.”
“Careful, Detective, or you’ll be blamed for those yet to come.”
“You said there can only be one warrior. Stop hiding and trying to prove yourself with the innocent and face me. Then you can claim Chango as your own, but not until you defeat the true warrior. I’m his chosen, not you.” Keegan covered her mouth and shook her head when she delivered the invitation. “Prove yourself, or accept that you’re nothing but a butcher pretending to be something you’ll never achieve.”
The phone went dead, and she lowered it to stop the recording she’d started. She opened her arms to Keegan, who slapped her hands down on her chest. “Are you crazy?” Keegan yelled.
“There’s a good reason, baby. You have to believe me.”
“To taunt this maniac to kill you? Nothing you can say will make me believe you.” Keegan slumped against her when Sept gave her the best reason she had—this nut’s potential body count.
“We have to do everything we can to find her before she resets and starts a new game somewhere else,” she said, kissing the top of Keegan’s head.
“You’d better be okay. I’ve found my match, and I’ve got too much life ahead of me to spend it alone.”
“I’ll be around until all you can cook is soft foods I can gum in my old age,” she said, which made Keegan laugh.
* * *
Hunter had spent the day thinking about all the moves that hadn’t been part of her meticulous plan. The conversation with Savoie an hour prior had been different, and it was extremely bothersome. Most calls of the same nature were all about stretching them with the hopes of tracing them to a location, but not Savoie.
“What do you know?” Hunter said out loud to the empty room. She was sitting in a meditative pose with her legs crossed. The worst mistake anyone involved in any game could make was to act as if they could change the outcome. “The game is mine, and you’ll play by my rules.”
That was true as the game came to a close, but something wasn’t sitting right. Sept Savoie had something, and she wasn’t going to share. It made sense that Sept would keep quiet while trying to push her to a certain action that would spring whatever trap Savoie was trying to set. If that was true, she wasn’t taking the bait or the blame for the mistakes made.
To win, the most important thing was staying in a position of power. Invisibility until your prey was strapped to a table like Branson had been was the way of the hunter. Perlis had changed that strategy by taunting Savoie, and he’d been burned for it. The only way to play this particular game was to engage Savoie. If she didn’t, the process would be incomplete.
“Perlis just had to call you to try to goad you into catching him.” She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. “If I don’t continue to do that, I don’t deserve to play. Showing fear doesn’t make me the best player, and you won’t take that away from me.”
Another deep breath brought no calmness, like it usually did, so she stood and headed for the kitchen and a bottle of water. The steps of the game that she had to complete were taped to the refrigerator, and this last play would en
d with Savoie’s death. The game was incomplete, and adding another play made perfect sense. Mistakes beyond her control had occurred, but she could rectify them.
“You want to challenge me, then I’ll give you your wish and punish the one person who should shoulder the blame for the hubris that skewered the plan.” She very carefully laid the paper on the counter and neatly started writing.
“Once you prove yourself the fool I know you are, I’ll enjoy building an altar for you on the graves of those you love.”
She finished the plan, and after reviewing and considering everything that could go wrong, she knew it was time to put it into motion. She would have to go purchase what she needed for the altars necessary to teach Savoie a lesson about hubris.
“I thought you were a level above Branson, but you’re like all the peacocks who wear the uniform. It’s all for show.”
* * *
“You,” Della said to Sept following their meal. “Come with me.”
After the disturbing call, Keegan had decided to go back to work if Sept stayed, and they could go home together. Della had done an admirable job of keeping the conversation light tonight, but Sept could see the worry that bubbled just under the surface.
The bartender poured them both a cognac, and Della held her hand as they sat. “Do you remember the day I came and asked your permission to marry Keegan?”
“Are you sorry?” Della asked, and she shook her head.
“I’m asking because I distinctly remember telling you that I’d protect her, and her family, like you were my own. Today I asked an old friend for help, and it probably wasn’t a wise career move, but no matter what it takes, I’ll always put Keegan and my family first.” She smiled and thought of her future with Keegan’s family. “The essence of my life isn’t my job. It’s the people I love.”
“Do I look like I needed convincing?” Della asked, making her laugh because Della never let her off easy.
“No, but I know you worry. Or maybe you needed reminding that I love you.”
“This person sounds even more deranged than the bastard who killed Donovan and brought you to us,” Della said, stopping to finish her drink. “I know that’s true even if you won’t tell me to save me from worrying.”
“Can I do anything to alleviate your load?”
“I want my family where I can see them and keep an eye on them,” Della said, and Sept wasn’t sure what she was saying. That must’ve been apparent when Della went on. “My house is too small, but yours isn’t.”
“You want to move in with us?” The master bedroom downstairs was empty, since Keegan and Jacqueline hadn’t wanted to take Della’s room.
“Do you think that’s a bad idea?” Della asked as the bartender refilled their glasses.
“You realize I don’t sleep on the sofa, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t have to like it,” Della said, kissing the back of her hand before she winked.
Keegan joined them, standing in front of her stool and leaning back against her. “You okay?”
“Why do you think Nicole showed up again?” Keegan asked, and the question made her think about the bizarre encounter earlier.
The call from Hunter had taken precedence over some idiot whose agenda she hadn’t figured out yet. “I’m not sure, but maybe she was trying to get a rise out of you and force you to say something.”
“I’m not afraid of her or that, but I’m ready for her to forget all about me.” Keegan sighed when she put her arms around Sept’s waist. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re getting housemates for a little while, but they promise to behave.” The way Della laughed made her doubt that she would do anything close to that. “Have you cooked your quota for the night?”
“Another half an hour and we should be free to go. Nathan took the car, and he’ll pick you up in the morning. Before you get mad, his parents were waiting for him.” Keegan turned and kissed her. “And we rescheduled the big family Sunday lunch for this weekend.”
“I’m glad I don’t have anything else to think about or decide tonight,” she teased, and Keegan bit her lip. “You need help with anything in there? I’m available and I’m cheap.”
The Blanchards laughed, but she and Della followed Keegan back. She wanted to review her files and check if the agents had found anything else, but she could do that later. Right now she chose to provide those she loved some comfort by giving them her undivided attention.
It took less time than Keegan had said, and she gladly sat in the passenger seat and let Keegan drive her home. They showered together, and Keegan opted to go to bed, saying she didn’t mind if she brought the laptop to bed so she could work. The agents had found another case where the convicted murderer had used drive-bys as his killing method.
The copycat was certainly multitalented when it came to killing people. Keegan was lying beside her, obviously sleeping, since her arm was thrown across her lap. If they could run down the gun used, the new case they’d uncovered might help them prove that the same person was active now.
“Hey. I’m sorry to bother you so late,” she said to Jennifer softly.
“I’m at the office since Chloe’s still at work. Do you need something?”
“We need to contact the Mississippi sheriff’s office and get the ballistics reports from their case.”
“What do you want to compare it to?” Jennifer asked, and Sept could hear typing. The dedication Jennifer had shown so far was admirable. For a second, a dark thought sped through her mind, and she tried to shut it down before she compared Jennifer to Perlis.
“The bullets that killed the two officers the day we found Bonnie Matherne. If we can match those two sets of bullets, we can prove the theory we’re trying to put forth. If those are too mangled for a true comparison, try the bullets we took out of the teenagers.”
“They’re in evidence, so I’ll get them in the morning,” Jennifer said, and it sounded like she yawned then.
“Get some sleep and I’ll see you then.” The bullets might link another case, but some common factor had to tie them all together.
It had to be someone who could blend into their surroundings and had the freedom to move from place to place without raising any warning flags in their everyday life. The number of kills, and the gore of the most recent, probably were the work of a psychopath, and those kinds of people didn’t blend in at all.
“Are you independently wealthy and don’t need to keep a job that requires you to deal with people?” She continued to speak softly to herself, not wanting to wake Keegan.
The timeline showed the suspect wasn’t following some kind of regular schedule that could indicate any type of pattern. All the copycat murders had started six years prior, and in that time, only one spree occurred some years in a certain location, but during some years up to three took place.
She answered her phone, rubbing Keegan’s back to keep her asleep. “Hey, did your parents make it in?” she asked Nathan, knowing they’d moved to Shreveport after his father’s retirement.
“Yeah. My dad gave me a pep talk, and my mom gave me a hug, the type only your mom can give you,” Nathan said, and he sounded better. “Sorry I ran out on you earlier.”
“You’ve met my mother, which means I totally understand.”
Nathan laughed again. He did know her mother and had helped with her parents’ renovation on Sundays. They’d made progress on the house she’d grown up in, enough that her parents had been able to move in and live in the part they’d finished.
“What are you doing up?”
“The feds found another case of a copycat series of crimes. Drive-bys that killed four people right outside Biloxi. Sounds like the locals thought it was a drug war because of the neighborhood and the victims targeted—until they checked the bullets with the feds’ records.”
“Can I come over? I know it’s late, but I can’t sleep.”
“Meet you in the kitchen, and bring your notebook. We’ve got plenty to cov
er, and I want this bitch to go down for every single crime I can pin on her.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The next morning at their precinct, Sebastian seemed engrossed with the ballistics report Jennifer had put together, and Sept allowed him to finish reading and lift his head before saying anything. She’d shared it with Anabel already, and they’d agreed that the gun used to kill the two NOPD rookies, the two teenage boys, and all the victims from the copycat drive-by shootings was the same one.
“What does this bring us, aside from being disturbingly interesting?” Sebastian asked, putting the report down.
“It’s one step closer to proving Hunter is one of the most prolific serial killers of our time,” Anabel said.
“And it should fill us with a sense of urgency to find the one clue that’ll bring her down before she moves on. Once this game, as Hunter refers to it, is done, she’ll be in the wind,” Sept said.
“I agree with both of you, but like with Perlis, all of these crime scenes haven’t yielded one clue we can use to narrow the field,” Sebastian said. “If we can’t do that, the mayor and the city council will demand a few people take the fall. Not that their threats should drive why we do this, but I’m only stating fact.”
“We all realize that, Sebastian, and I agree with Sept on one crucial thing,” Anabel said.
“What?” Sebastian glanced between the two of them before settling on Nathan.
“The answer is already here. We just haven’t deciphered it yet,” Sept said.
Nathan got up and turned the whiteboard around to where they’d written out the timeline they’d worked up the night before. From the information Anabel had provided, the map showed all the crimes they’d spotted and when they occurred. In their totality, only one discernable pattern was apparent.
“The crimes that someone copied all had one thing in common,” Nathan said, pointing to the different states. “Hunter chose to duplicate all the crimes exactly in the same manner, on the same number of victims, as the original killer, and she took the same amount of time. It happened in every case,” Nathan said, then placed his hand on Louisiana. “Except ours.”
