2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane

by Carolyn McCray

Ruben kicked a pew over. It clanged loudly in the still church air.

  Yep, that was about how Kent felt.

  * * *

  “Martin’s been screwing with us,” Ruben said. He would have used harsher language, but they were in a church after all.

  “No kidding,” Kent muttered, pacing in front of the bodies.

  “Okay, we need to figure this out,” Nicole said. “Jimmi and Joshua are still out there. Counting on us.”

  There was never a truer statement.

  Ruben wanted to kick another pew, but didn’t want to get that frown from Nicole again.

  “Think,” Nicole urged, although that wasn’t aimed at Ruben. Deep, soul-searching wasn’t his thing. Impeccable research and dogged footwork were his strong suit and he doubted either one of those virtues was going to come in handy right about now.

  “You don’t think I’m trying?” Kent shot back.

  He was in quite the mood. Good. He’d gotten them into this mess. If the profiler hadn’t gone into the prison to try and outwit Martin, would Joshua and Jimmi be in this mess. He’d taken the two J’s to get back at Kent. This was revenge straight up.

  And right now, Martin had them on the ropes.

  “Why the proxies?” Nicole asked the dark church. “Why not just kill Joshua and Jimmi and leave them? Why the other two techs?”

  “Because Martin wants to torment Kent for as long as he can,” Ruben stated. That part was pretty obvious. “If he kills the two J’s, Kent goes into revenge mode, which isn’t what Martin wants.”

  Nicole began pacing, in the opposite direction of Kent. She really was becoming more and more like her profiler husband. Was that a good or a bad thing? Only time would tell.

  “But what about the cult?” Nicole stated. “They are being taken off message. They have their own psychotic needs to fulfill. What would make them go along with the cat and mouse stuff? They like big, showy crime scenes.”

  * * *

  Nicole’s question hung in the air. No one responded. Apparently she’d just asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

  Her mind cranked trying to figure out the answer before Kent. She had absolute faith he would figure it out. Yes, Martin had been leading them around by the nose, but that era was about to end. Kent’s big, big, arrogant brain could figure it out. Of that, she had no doubt. What she did doubt was whether or not it would be in time to save the two J’s.

  “Kent, think, damn it,” Nicole urged. He put up a finger to stop her. His mind was on overdrive. It was like watching someone do a Rubik’s cube, but in his head.

  “Let’s talk it out,” Ruben suggested. It wouldn’t be for Kent’s sake that was for sure.

  “Why is the Debbie Downer cult helping Martin in his very personal revenge?” Ruben asked.

  “Because they must get something out of it,” Nicole responded.

  “Like?” Ruben asked.

  Well, if she knew that, she wouldn’t still be pacing in this church now, would she? But there was no point in harassing Ruben. He was doing his best. And now that she knew he and Kent were in on the whole prison thing together, there really was no point in still being pissed at her partner.

  Yet, a part of her still wanted to be. It was easier than being extraordinarily mad at her husband. The man who was going to solve this.

  “Maybe Martin promised them a big kill. Like a really big kill,” Ruben suggested.

  “But where?” Nicole asked. “We’ve got a presence at all the major clubs.”

  Ruben shook his head, walking off, starting to pace himself.

  “What did you just say?” Kent asked, turning to face her.

  “That we’ve got all the clubs covered. Debbie Downer can’t step into a club without at least two undercover cops waiting for them.”

  Kent rushed forward, cupped Nicole’s face in his hands then laid a big wet kiss on her lips.

  “What was that for?”

  Kent smiled that crooked, arrogant, self-serving smile.

  “I know not only where the two J’s are, but where Debbie Downer is going to strike next.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “And?” Ruben asked since Kent didn’t continue and Nicole seemed stunned by the news. That and her husband’s sudden PDA.

  “And what?” Kent answered at his leisure.

  “And what are we supposed to do with this knowledge?”

  Kent took a step away from Nicole. His posture was arrogant. His expression was arrogant. Hell, if Ruben were close enough, he’d probably smell Kent’s arrogance. And yet for all of that, Ruben felt relieved. If Kent was strutting, it meant he was right. Really right. Like break the case wide open right.

  And that is exactly what they needed at the moment.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Kent replied, truly seeming confused. He went into his own private world when working a case this difficult. He just assumed that everyone else was on his wavelength. No one ever was. Not even Nicole. No matter how hard she tried.

  “Kent!” Nicole snapped, sounding more frustrated with herself than her husband.

  “You two head back over to the club and I’ll go fetch our J’s.”

  “Which club?” Ruben inquired. He was still so confused.

  “Which club?” Kent reflected back. “Um, the club you were just at?”

  The profiler might as well have added, “duh” to that sentence. Only it wasn’t duh.

  “That club was just a ruse.”

  Kent chuckled but didn’t answer. Bastard. Ruben was starting to remember why he’d been so happy to help put Kent in prison.

  “No,” Nicole said. Now her gaze unfocused seeking out an answer beyond this world. “No, the kidnapping of the two J’s was the ruse.”

  Her husband nodded, looking so very proud of his protégé, his wife.

  Ruben had to play catch up. “So Martin is paying the Debbie Downer cult back for kidnapping Joshua and Jimmi by giving them their largest kill?”

  “You two should get moving,” Kent said, walking towards the door. “You’ve got fifty, maybe a hundred people to save.”

  “And where are you going?”

  Kent smiled. God, Ruben hated it when the profiler did that.

  “Why, to go save our J’s.”

  * * *

  Really Kent probably should have added “hope to save” to that sentence, but then it would have undercut his extremely dramatic exit. Besides, Nicole and Ruben needed to have faith that he was handling the two J’s situation. If they doubted his ability to rescue their friends, then they might waver about going back to the club and then where would they be?

  No, Kent had to do this on his own. It was what Martin wanted and right now the only way to thwart Martin was to play Martin’s game by his own rules. They would hang him in the end.

  Kent hot-wired a car and set off to the north.

  He should have seen it. He should have known exactly where Martin would take his prey. Kent had been too self-involved playing a game of mental chess with Martin. Kent should have backed away from the board to see there never really had been any game in the first place.

  Glancing to his watch, Kent stepped on it. Martin had a thing about two am. It was when his kills had happened. Some psychiatrist, decades ago theorized that two am was when Martin’s stepfather came home from his late shift. When the man raped his stepson.

  It was a tragedy. A horrific act perpetrated upon a young boy. Was it what made Martin? Kent didn’t think so. Plenty of children endured barbaric sexual abuse and didn’t grow up to be sadistic serial killers. No, something had been broken in Martin before the abuse. The abuse simply cracked him fully open.

  And now Kent had fifteen minutes before Martin’s witching hour to save the two J’s. It was a twenty minute drive.

  No pressure or anything.

  * * *

  Joshua slowed his breathing. The Debbie Downers were waiting for something. They kept glancing to their watches, which Joshua had to say undercut their über creepy mon
k vibe.

  It was coming soon. They were growing more and more restless. They seemed eager to get their killing done, then move on. Probably to more murders, but murders more up their alley.

  Most of the cultists had left. They only left three to take care of them. Perhaps the first mistake they had made. They clearly didn’t know that Joshua and Jimmi had slipped their restraints and were only pretending to be confined.

  So far they hadn’t figured out how to leverage that particular advantage, but Joshua thought they were going to have to do something and do it soon.

  The tallest of the robed freaks, checked his watch again, then nodded.

  Okay, here it came.

  Joshua looked over to Jimmi on the altar. His friend’s eyes flicked to the candles surrounding them. At the least they would have some nice lighting for their death. Wait, that probably wasn’t what Jimmi had in mind. Those little flickering fires were about the only weapon they had available for them.

  Kind of sad really. And here Joshua had hoped that Kent would burst in at the last second and save their hides. Clearly he’d indulged in fantasy. Would Kent miss him when he was gone? Would he name his next child after Joshua?

  Now that would be something. Unfortunately Joshua wouldn’t be around to enjoy it.

  The Downers tensed, picking up their scythes.

  This was about to get real, really quickly.

  Joshua had to wait though. He had to wait until they were close enough before he revealed he was free.

  Eyes darting over, Joshua watched as Jimmi’s scrawny muscles bunched. What adrenaline could do.

  The Downers seemed supremely confident. They had after all gotten away with how many murders?

  Not tonight. Hopefully.

  The glint of the knife in the candlelight.

  Here he went.

  Joshua pushed off as hard as he could. Knocking into the nearest cultist, hurling them both toward the candles.

  His first surge was successful. He’d caught the cultist off guard. And now he was on fire.

  Unfortunately, that seemed to only piss the guy off and he came up swinging that blade, right for Joshua’s jugular. Jimmi was on the defensive as well and now the third guy was coming at Joshua with his knife at the ready.

  Okay, Joshua wasn’t going to survive against one attacker, let alone two.

  Oh well, he’d tried.

  Then the third attacker arched up, gasped as blood streamed from his mouth. Then the cultist fell to the floor, dead.

  And who stood over the body?

  Why, Kent of course.

  See? Dreams did come true.

  * * *

  What was Joshua thinking? Just standing there with that idiot grin on his face. One of the Downers was coming at the tech from behind. His robe alight, the man looked truly fanatical.

  Kent flipped his blade up, caught it by the tip and flung it over Joshua’s shoulder, right into the attacker’s Adam apple. Burning, the Downer dropped his knife, clutching at his neck. The man ran around the room in a panic.

  In Kent’s opinion, the man deserved nothing less than to burn alive while simultaneously choking to death.

  Pivoting, Kent found Jimmi trying to fend off his attacker. The tech got credit for trying, but accomplishing anything, not so much.

  Kent had no weapon. Well at least not on hand. He caught up with the flaming cultist. Put a foot on his chest and yanked the knife out. Blood spurted from the wound. Too bad. Now the guy would die quickly.

  Bummer.

  Kent knocked Jimmi out of the way. It was a three-maneuver fight with the last Downer. He went down with a knife in the chest.

  Dusting his hands off, he turned to the two J’s who still seemed a little shell-shocked by it all.

  “Well?” Kent urged. “Get out to the car!”

  Like a starting pistol had gone off, Joshua and Jimmi rushed to the car.

  Really? Kent had expected at the least a hug from Joshua.

  Now to find out how Nicole and Ruben were doing.

  * * *

  The first thing that gave Nicole hope as they drove up to the club was the fact that there was no line around the block, nor any bouncers. The place seemed nice and quiet.

  Wait. With Debbie Downer, was that a good thing?

  She drove up right in front of the club and parked. She and Ruben got out and hustled to the door. It was locked. Of course, there were no windows.

  “Watch out,” Ruben said turning like a fireman and hauled off and kicked the door in. Nicole put her hand out to catch the rebound. The club was dark. No more strobe lights and throbbing music.

  Gun out, Nicole cautiously stepped forward. Everything seemed as it should. They had closed down the club for the night. It hadn’t reopened as Kent had suggested.

  For once Nicole was glad that her husband was wrong.

  Then a whimper.

  Nicole swung to face the noise. The light on her gun cut through the darkness, illuminated a mascara-streaked girl, kneeling on the floor. Nicole’s light made the glitter on the floor glisten.

  It also illuminated a long sharp blade at the club girl’s neck.

  “Drop it.”

  This was the Debbie Downer cult. Nicole seriously doubted they would go down quietly.

  Then more figures emerged from the darkness.

  Over a dozen cultists.

  Ruben had called for backup, but they were at least five minutes out.

  If Nicole started shooting, this was going to be a blood bath.

  * * *

  Ruben swung his gun right to left. Finding a target wasn’t the problem. There were so many of those, it was easier than a state fair carnie game. No, the problem was trying to figure out how to tag the cultists before they killed innocent civilians.

  It appeared like Nicole and he had arrived before the massacre.

  If Kent hadn’t figured this out…

  Ruben didn’t want to think about it.

  There were over fifty people already strung up. Which was why no one was struggling, trying to get away. They had wire tied around their bones. Quite an effective restraint technique.

  The cultist only had knives to Nicole’s and his guns, but those blades could do a lot of damage in a very short amount of time.

  One of the Downers stepped forward. “You might as well leave. You cannot help these sinners.”

  Wait. Did Ruben recognize that voice?

  “Kirnon?” Nicole asked, her voice sounding tentative.

  The man flung back his hood.

  It was in fact, the man from the nudist colony.

  What the hell?

  “We thought for sure our cover was blown when you showed up at our camp.”

  Another figure came from the darkness. A shorter, rounder figure.

  She pushed back her hood. Mrs. Hackney.

  Wow. That had been quite the performance back at the nudist camp.

  And Nicole and he had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

  “Are you even nudists?” Nicole demanded.

  Kirnon chuckled. “Oh, quite so, it is what brought us together.”

  Crackpot didn’t even begin to describe it.

  * * *

  Damn it, Ruben thought. They’d had them. Ruben had stood in this man’s camp and avoided eye contact. Ruben guessed that was what they wanted.

  Like he said. Damn it.

  How had they missed it? They had seemed so harmless. Granola eating hippy nudists.

  Shadows played in the club, accentuating the gruesome horror around him. The victims were still alive, but for how much longer?

  It was just he and Nicole.

  Sure they could take down a number of the Downers, but how many of the innocent victims would be killed in the meantime?

  And the victims couldn’t get away. Not with the wires going through their bones. He glanced over to Nicole. He could see her thought process crossing her features. She wanted to pull the trigger so badly, you could see it on her face. But she did
not want to sacrifice any of the victims.

  “Why?” one of the club goers managed to choke out. He raised his head. Blood streaked down one side of his face. “Why?”

  Kirnon. “Do you really have to ask? Look at you. A fornicator. A liar. A demon in human clothing.”

  Kent was always jibber-jabbering about how to catch a serial killer you had to think like one. Once again, Ruben was reminded of why he would never be a great profiler. There was no way he could follow Kirnon down that particular rabbit hole.

  Nicole though, she looked like she was trying.

  * * *

  Kent would know what to say. Either to placate the man or to infuriate him into making an error. She couldn’t go for the usual “thou shalt not kill.” She had to dig deeper.

  “Martin is using you,” Nicole stated. Serial killers took their self-determination pretty seriously.

  “He inspired us, but in no way controls us,” Kirnon said with a sneer.

  Okay, Kirnon just agreed with the premise of the question. It was a start. A tiny start, but a start nonetheless.

  “He bragged to my husband about how this was his cult. He could sway you with a crook of his finger.”

  Kent had said no such thing, but you had to get a little creative with these serial killers. You couldn’t wander too far from the truth or get yourself caught up. Nicole could tell by the way Kirnon set his teeth, that at the least he considered that Martin might say something like that. So much for self-determination.

  But how to turn it to her favor. Dozens of lives, including hers and Ruben’s.

  “It is over, Kirnon.”

  Unfortunately this made the man smile. “And we know it. That doesn’t mean we can’t right a few wrongs before we are taken.”

  Great.

  * * *

  Ruben figured the longer they kept Kirnon talking, the longer the victims would be spared. He was certain they would rather tough through the pain rather than have a speedy death.

  Plus backup was on its way. Could they really last until then?

  Kirnon stepped forward, putting a long, sharp knife to neck of the victim that had spoken up. “God will greet us with open arms for extinguishing such fornicators.”

  Wow, these guys were really not into sex.

  And Kent called Ruben a prude.

  Leveling his gun to Kirnon’s head, Ruben took a step forward. “You really are ready to die. It’s not a theory anymore. Not an abstract. You could cease to exist in a heartbeat. Is that what you really want?”