"Where's Satch, the Times’ regular guy?” Lancaster eyed the wet-behind-the-ears kid, who had a Jimmy Olsen look. Wire-framed glasses slipped down his thin nose, and his khaki trousers had a freshly ironed crease.
"He's on vacation. I hear the FBI is in on this.” White glanced at Jake. “That means this is something more than a simple homicide. Can you tell me about that?"
"Look, White. Either you're not from around here or someone didn't explain the procedures to you. The Chief will address the media giving a statement of the facts we have so far. You will be given a press release for the paper when the Chief is ready. Until then, the only thing I have to say is ‘No Comment!'” Lancaster said this with a finality that was hard to miss. “Now step aside, please, so I can go do my job."
Jake followed Lancaster in the office door, leaving the reporter in the lobby. He couldn't miss the expletive that White spouted as the door shut, or the glare directed at him before the kid left. “You handled that well."
"Damn pests,” Lancaster muttered. “Can't turn around without bumping into ‘em when something like this happens. Why don't we just take out an ad and tell the killer all the evidence we've collected and what our next move will be?"
Jake laughed. “I know what you mean. They expect you to catch the guy, but they hamper your progress by giving a blow by blow accounting of your actions. It's a vicious circle. I generally try to steer clear of the media."
"Yeah, it's the Chief's job.” Lancaster chuckled. “But it still doesn't deter them. Satch would tread lightly. He's been around a while. So, let's go over the facts again."
"All the women are approximately five foot five inches tall with long brownish red hair.” Jake spread out the pictures of the other victims. “They have high cheekbones and are slender in build."
Lancaster frowned in concentration. “They all look alike."
"Yes, more or less."
"So you think he's killing the same person over and over?"
"It seems so,” Jake replied even though he knew the correct answer was yes. “Perhaps a sister or girlfriend. Someone he felt had wronged him."
"What do we know about the first victim?"
At first, Jake didn't answer. A scene from long ago played through his memory. In a softer voice than usual, he spouted off information.
"Good New England family. Honor student, well-liked, full ride to college on academics. She was pretty and outgoing, had lots of friends."
"Except one.” Lancaster offered.
"Except one.” Jake blinked the memories away.
"I'm confident you did all the necessary background checks."
"All."
"It's not chance that he's finding all these women who meet his criteria just by accident."
"No."
"Which means planning."
"That's right, planning and patience. He waits for the right moment."
"That won't be good for us."
"No."
"Let's call it a night. The wife is probably waiting supper on me."
"Okay.” Jake grabbed his jacket.
"Tomorrow's another day."
Yes, but what kind of day, he wondered?
* * * *
Jake's concentration wavered because of strange noises coming from outside. “What's all the racket?"
"That's the parade to kick off the annual Waterfront Festival. The local merchants have booths and provide refreshments. It's a big deal that draws in tourists. There's even live music at the end of Stacy Boulevard by the food setups."
Jake's glance clearly exhibited his lack of interest. Lancaster shrugged. “Hey, it's a big ‘to do’ for us small town folk."
"So, lots of unfamiliar faces round and about?"
"Yep."
"Perfect place for our friend to be mingling."
"You know, you're right. Let's get out there."
Detective Lancaster put the word out for some uniforms to follow him. He stopped at the door. “But how do we know what to look for?"
"Tell your men to just keep their eyes open for anything unusual.” Jake would know if The Surgeon was close, of that he had little doubt. “What has the Chief said about the press conference?"
"He's waiting until after the festival. He doesn't want to cause a panic and keep people from coming into town."
Maybe he should, Jake thought, but he didn't say it.
Wandering through the crowds, Jake and several policemen kept an eye open for any suspicious looking characters, which wasn't an easy task since out-of-towners were everywhere and The Surgeon would blend in. Every once in a while he could make out a light blue shirt, part of the police detail assigned to the fest.
Jake barely noticed the booths where the locals put on their best smiles and peddled their nautical wares. He kept his focus on the hoards of people who strolled around the area.
Closer to the end of the street, something he heard or felt gave him pause, a cop's instinct. He couldn't place it at first. Slowly, he pivoted. A familiar steely gaze peered through the crowd. Jake focused on a pair of gray-blue eyes. The other man saluted, turned, and got lost in the milieu of people. Jake sprinted as best he could to the spot where the UNSUB had been standing, but didn't pursue any farther.
While staring after the ghostly figure, Jake caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye and felt a buzz like all his nerves were humming. He changed position to better watch the goings-on but didn't recognize anything.
A short, blond, bubbly young woman laughed while she wrapped a small picture frame in tissue paper. People responded cheerfully to her openness and charming personality. Her voice floated like a song on the wind, combined with the chimes that hung in the corner, until it reached his ears. It was a pleasant sight, even for his hardened resolve. She turned and said something to her partner in the booth. When she shifted again, he saw Allison Brody.
A flash of The Surgeon winking at the giddy blond singed his brain. Had he bought something in their booth? Had Allison smiled sweetly and brushed his fingers as she took his money? Jake slowed his thoughts and reined in a surge of unexpected feelings.
Allison's movements were fluid and graceful, but she consciously, carefully avoided direct contact with anyone. Timid, she stayed in the shadows continually conversing with the other woman who didn't seem to notice. Or, more likely, she'd grown accustomed to Allison's unusual actions.
Jake bounded through the growing crowd. An intense jolt, like lightning, struck his body the closer he got to Allison. “Ms. Brody.” He spoke just loud enough to get Allison's attention at the rear of the booth. When she turned the full force of her beauty hit him like a torpedo, exploding in shivers across his skin, landing with heaviness in his groin, and left him speechless as she sauntered toward him with cool indifference. She wore white shorts that hugged her curvaceous hips, sending his thoughts to places they shouldn't go and making his jeans tighter. The sunny yellow striped-shirt, which he assumed came from the department store where she worked, blended with her softly tanned skin, making her look like a goddess.
"Hello, Agent Austin. Would you like something?” Her greeting was cool and reserved. Obviously, he hadn't made a good impression at their first meeting, and she certainly wasn't going to give an inch.
It took a moment for his words to form. “Did you sell anything to a man, about my height, bleached white hair, just a few minutes ago?"
"I haven't really been dealing directly with the customers, but no one by that description stopped here. Why?"
He scowled, not sure if it was because she hadn't noticed the UNSUB or because of the hard-on making his jeans so damn restrictive. His right brow cocked and his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Didn't you sense anything or have a flash that the killer might be near?"
"I've actually managed to go for several hours without connecting to the monster in question, Agent. Besides, I thought you weren't interested in my flashes."
She crossed her arms, scrunching her breasts together, but he
wouldn't be deceived by her innocent look or the loaded comment. “That's right, Ms. Brody. I'd just as soon you stay out of my way.” Jake hissed out the remark, turned and stalked away.
The tingling she'd felt earlier in her spine now made perfect sense. Allison pretended the heaviness in her chest and the air didn't signal a brush with evil. Her gaze darted back and forth, as if she'd be able to pick him out in the crowd, and for some reason, she heard a child's rhyme in her head, One little, two little, three little dead ones.
She shifted, uncomfortable with the notion that an unseen force had again thrown her into the path of Special Agent Austin, even though he mocked her abilities at every opportunity. A cold sensation caused her to clutch her arms, but it was quickly chased away by a wicked smile. Her body hummed.
"Wow!"
Allison spun around at her friend's exclamation.
"Who was that?” Kat asked.
"Agent Jake Austin."
"Ooh, the Fed?"
"Yeah, the Fed,” Allison muttered. “Close your mouth before flies get in."
"He's an awesome specimen of the male gender."
Allison grimaced. “If you like the tall, dark, and brooding type. He's not someone I'd want to spend much time with. He's rather unpleasant.” At this moment, she wished she hadn't let Kat talk her into working the booth today. A weakness she agreed to occasionally, despite her predisposition to stay as far away from people as possible.
"Oh, momma, give me unpleasant."
Her best friend since high school, and her boss's daughter, Kathleen Rubin had the uncanny ability to always succinctly state things. With a trace of laughter in her voice Allison said, “Come on let's get back to the customers."
Later that evening at Allison's house for their usual monthly ritual dinner and girls’ night Kat said, “How can you eat so much and not gain a pound?"
Allison sat down with a plate of spaghetti, egg rolls, garlic bread and salad. “Metabolism."
"I hate you.” Over a mouthful of spaghetti, Kat mentioned her new beau.
"Sean? Who's Sean?"
"Oh, haven't I told you about Sean? Well.... “She took a deep breath and a sip of wine before she barged through the story. “I was driving out of town up Route 127 the other day and my car just happened to break down at almost the very place where Sean had stopped. Can you believe it? What luck."
Her excitement made Allison smile. “Uh, huh. Luck."
"Truly. I wouldn't lie about something like that. Anyway, he was taking photographs for a travel magazine. We started talking while he looked at my car and I found out he's staying in the area so I invited him to dinner, as appreciation for helping me with the car trouble."
"And he accepted?” Allison's incredulous tone started Kat on a tirade about their friendship and how long they'd known each other.
When Kat took a breath finally, Allison laughed. “Sometimes, I just can't get over how outgoing and friendly you can be, Kat."
Kat got a goofy look on her face, rolled her eyes, and laughed right along with her. “You spend too much time alone, you know. You need to get out more."
"So you keep saying,” Allison replied dryly.
"Well, you do. Staying locked up in this house isn't normal or healthy."
"So I've been told. Would you believe me if I said I think you're right?"
Kat stopped her chewing and stared at Allison. “What?"
"Oh, nothing. I just—well—I went to see Paul Kincaid the other day. Professionally. Then, he took me out to dinner."
Stunned, Kat said, “Dinner? You and Dr. Kincaid? In, like, an actual restaurant with people and everything?"
"Yeah."
"So spill with the details, honey."
"There's not much to tell. I've been having a few problems lately, so I called him to talk. I spent a little while at his office, and, after our session was over, he asked me out to dinner."
"And you said yes?"
"And I said yes."
Kat shook her head. “I don't believe it."
"I couldn't believe it either. But, we were friends in college even before he became my shrink. That was his ace in the hole."
"Bastard."
Allison laughed. “It was a nice evening. He even brought me a Lily."
"Wow! This sounds like something major. I generally don't get flowers until the third date."
"Stop, would you?"
"And after dinner?"
"He brought me home, kissed my cheek, and left."
Kat's bright smile deflated. “Oh, how boring. That's certainly not a good ending to a great evening. You didn't even ask him in for coffee?"
"Nope."
Sighing she said, “I'm definitely going to have to go over the finer tips of dating with you. It's been too long since you've been out in the real world."
"No, actually, it was very civil. I'm not sure I want any more from Paul. I've not wanted anything more for years.” She looked down at her hands, avoiding her friend's stare.
Kat's lack of response signaled an understanding that only best friends shared.
"While I'm thinking about it. Do you remember the last time I wore my locket?"
"The one your dad gave you on your sixteenth birthday?"
"Yes."
"No. Why?"
"I had planned on wearing it, but couldn't find it anywhere.” She frowned in concentration trying to remember when she'd worn it last.
"It'll turn up, hon."
Allison hoped so. It was her most prized possession. “Anyway, you'll have to keep me posted on how things go with Sean."
"You know I will. Now, let's get these dishes cleaned up so I can get home. Dad will shriek if I'm not there on time tomorrow. You have the luxury of working the late, late shift, but I have to be up with the chickens."
Allison chuckled and linked elbows with Kat. “Come on, I'll wash, you dry."
"Deal."
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sun hung low as if refusing to set when Lancaster stuck his head in the conference room. “You still here?"
Jake sifted through his files again, searching for anything that would give him an edge. “It seems I live in police stations these days."
Lancaster wandered around the room. “Christ, I can't believe we still don't have something, anything, to go on. Not even an idea of what this bastard looks like."
"He changes his appearance all the time. He's good at camouflage, fitting in so as not to be noticed. It's what keeps him in business."
"Business. That's a unique way of stating it.” He sighed. “Don't you sleep?"
Chuckling, Jake said, “Not often."
"Then how do you function?"
"Years of practice."
Lancaster yawned. “Well, I can't do it. I'm heading home. You gonna call it a night?"
"In a while."
Lancaster pushed himself up, using the table for leverage. “Can I ask you something?"
"Sure,” Jake said without looking up.
"You rattle off facts that you can pull out of thin air. You know things that it would take me a computer to look up. You can recite findings and exact measurements or figures from the other murder scenes and files."
Jake's head rose slightly, but still he didn't look at the detective. “And your question?"
"How?"
Jake's voice was quiet. “I have a photographic memory. I can recall anything I've ever looked at."
"Shit. It would be something like that."
"Goodnight, Detective."
Lancaster paused at the door. “Since we're obviously going to be working together for a while, why don't you call me Bill?"
"Goodnight, Bill."
"Goodnight."
Jake scrutinized every detail, but it made no sense. Why had The Surgeon changed his pattern? What was different? Gradually, his mind drifted back to Allison Brody. To be truthful, that subject had averted his thoughts from the case. It irritated him because he'd n
ever been side-tracked like this before. He didn't have time for distractions and that's what she was, a monumental distraction.
He leapt up from the chair and stretched as tall as he could so the muscles in his back screamed with agony. Maybe he should go back to The Stern Trawler and try to get some rest? There was no more he could do here tonight. A fresh start might just be the ticket.
* * * *
The open window allowed just enough of a breeze from the harbor to blow salty air into the room. A panel of sheers whispered movement like an elegant dance to a quiet symphony. Allison struggled with yet another restless slumber, sinister laughter emanating from every direction. She whirled wildly in the vast darkness while an eerie mist swirled about her legs. Her chest constricted as if a ton of bricks were piled on to keep her from catching her breath. A dangerous anticipation clawed at her consciousness. Fear bubbled inside her until she thought she could bear no more.
As quickly as the darkness had fallen, it vanished. A large field of tall grasses and bright flowers welcomed her. Allison spun around, throwing her arms above her head and crying out in clear tones, a forgotten song of happiness. A deep, cool voice whispered words she couldn't make out, but there was no fear. A magnificent emerald color invited her to seek solace and sleep.
At long last Allison fell into a deep, deep lethargy. Dragged down into the realm of the sandman, she continued to drop and plunge, not frightened of where she would end up. When movement ceased, she found herself in a tropical setting.
The palm trees swayed with ocean winds and the sun offered warmth, coaxing flowers to greet the day. Fish openly swam toward shore, unafraid of being snatched from the water. Dolphins jumped playfully in the distance as seagulls sang their unusual warbled melody.
A few feet away in jean cutoffs and no shirt stood Alex, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat and streaked hair dancing around his hypnotic eyes. They always met in this secluded cove with a beautiful white sandy beach, two teenagers growing up together. Only in this place was she who she wanted to be, only here had life been normal. Something had changed as she walked toward him. The warm breezes carried more than just the fragrances of the local fauna. Waves of something more primal brushed her body, leaving an ache in her breasts and between her legs.
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