Knocking, they waited for an invitation.
“Come in,” he said not even looking up.
“Doc, you got the post-holiday crankies?” asked Elizabeth, hooking her thumbs in her jeans.
Chris glanced up and leaned back in his chair. “Yes and no. I’m frustrated as hell with this last victim. I think she was most definitely sexually assaulted, but the burns are making it hard to determine conclusively. When he lit her up and strung her up, the burns moved upwards and her genital area had minimal burning.”
“Okay, then what’s the problem.”
“When the skin burns and cracks open, the fat beneath the surface bubbles through. Gravity pulled it down and then that caused it to sear to the flesh. I’m trying to figure out a way to remove the seared subcutaneous fat from the damaged flesh without destroying tissue and evidence.”
“You’ll figure it out,” she reassured. “You’re the best there is at this kind of thing.”
He nodded. “What can I do for you both today?” he asked. “Do we have another crime scene?”
Blackhawk shook his head. “No, but I need to know if we have ID on the victim to positively give her a name.”
Chris pulled out his file and passed it to his bosses. “We do have positive ID. Christina got it about twenty minutes ago. It is Lisa Delius. We used medical records that her doctor sent over and dentals.”
“Great, that’s step one.” Elizabeth stated.
“We also have toxicology on her and the other women. I ran a cross comparison to check to see what common substances popped. Victim one who we haven’t ID’d yet, victim three Jessica Arturo, and victim four Sarah Royce all had trace of methamphetamines.”
“So we had junkies that liked meth. Prostitutes and strippers will use to dull the pain of their situation,” stated Elizabeth. “Anything else?”
“Alcohol in the first two, none after that,” he added. “They’re all clean of any type of sedative.”
Blackhawk crossed his arms, thinking about his profile. “He’s not drugging them and that makes me think that he’s just grabbing a woman randomly. He may watch them all in the strip club or on the street, but then he’s just taking her. No planning with drugging and sneaking them away. With the prostitutes he was most likely the John. No one is going to pay attention to a hooker getting into a car that pulls up, especially on the strip where they tend to hang out.”
“That’s going to make ID’ing him a nightmare,” said Elizabeth. “He started with prostitutes and then moved to strippers, why?” she asked her husband. This was his area and she needed his input.
“Like we just said, he’s probably observing them. Sitting in his car and staring at hookers is going to draw attention. He wouldn’t have the time he’d want to find the right girl. In a strip club, he could watch and sample the ‘merchandise’, before committing to the kill.”
“That’s pretty sick,” stated Chris.
“Yeah it is,” Elizabeth agreed. “So we have a watcher.” Already in her head the wheels began to spin on how to catch the man, and she was pretty damn sure her husband wasn’t going to like it. But for now she was keeping it to herself as a last case scenario.
“What do we have on the woman with the ID’s that links them together? Are there any physical similarities?” Blackhawk asked. “He might be after a woman with green eyes, or brown hair.”
Chris thought about it. “I’ll have Christina do a cross comparison on features. I should have it to you tonight or tomorrow at the latest.”
Elizabeth was good with that. “Hey, can you tell me what you thought about Fire Inspector Wells?”
Chris started laughing. “He creeped me out.”
Both bosses stared at the man. Their ME played in the dead all day, and generally nothing bothered him. “Care to elaborate on that statement, Doctor?” inquired Blackhawk.
“He just feels off to me. Patrick Wells seems like a friendly guy, but he was deriving too much happiness from watching the autopsy. It made me feel uncomfortable.”
Elizabeth felt validated. “Agent Christensen and I had the same impression. It was like he was a kid in the candy store.”
“Yeah, if your candy was dead crispy hookers and strippers,” grinned Chris. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy, and maybe it was all the FBI shiny equipment and facility. FBI West is pretty spectacular when it comes to tech gadgets.”
“If we get any more women, can we keep him out of the loop on anything that may break this assignment open?”
Chris smiled. “I’m supposed to transmit my findings to him. What do you want to do?”
Blackhawk glanced down at his wife. “You have the look on your face like you want to screw with someone,” he paused. “Specifically rules and authority.”
She laughed. “No, but how about we hold back anything we deem pertinent or plant something not true. I want to watch him and see if something clicks.”
“I can do anything you want. Since he can’t access our files he’ll never know what we’re giving him.”
“What about the detective?” asked Blackhawk. “Do we trust her?”
It wasn’t hard to see the visible flinch from Chris. Elizabeth left that up to Chris. “Is she trustworthy, Doc?”
“I don’t think she has any love lost for the men she works with. They ride her pretty hard and from what she told me, they don’t like dealing with women.”
This piqued her attention. “Who has issues in general?”
“Detective Leto, and the only person he has a bigger grudge against is Callen. She told me he’s still on fire about you being given command of this one, and when he had his ass handed to him in front of everyone by Callen, it pissed him off. He’d love to cause some harm.”
“I’m glad I’m the burr under his saddle.”
Blackhawk wasn’t happy. “If I catch him trying to even give you a nasty look, I’m personally taking his face off his skull and then stapling it to the back of his head.”
She started laughing at the visual. “That was pretty damn funny, Cowboy. You’re hanging out with me too much, apparently.”
“I’m serious! My pregnant wife isn't going to be his target.”
Running her hand up and down his arm, she winked at him. “Speaking of pregnant wives,” she started, glancing back over at Chris. “Is there a DNA test you can run to figure out paternity?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes and no. Before DNA tests came about before the 1980’s, doctors used blood work. It’s fairly accurate.”
“Okay, then the no?” asked Elizabeth.
“The tricky part that’s going to come into play is with Callen and Ethan. Both men share half DNA matches. With the test having a twenty percent error rate, toss in that they’re brothers and you up the margin of error. The only way to get an accurate test is to do the amniocentesis. ”
“Can we do the blood test?” Blackhawk asked. “I’ll take the chance of error. It’s not like it’s a huge deal. If there’s an error, we know who the father is regardless.”
“I’m in,” offered Elizabeth.
Chris stood. “Let me go get some needles and vials.”
Once he was gone, Elizabeth looked over at him. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can wait and get a definite in a few weeks.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want anyone sticking a needle into your body and next to the child. There’s risk of miscarriage with that choice. I won’t risk this baby, mine or not to soothe my conscience.”
She took his hand in hers. “I love you, Ethan.”
Bringing her knuckles to his lips, he left a kiss on their wedding band. “I love you too, baby.”
Chris re-entered the room with needles, gloves and vials. “The test will be complete today. I’ll take blood from Ethan and either find or eliminate the possibility that he’s the father. Since the sperm pool was limited to two men if it shows any genetic markers other than his and yours, then we can safely assume Callen is the father.”
&nb
sp; “I’m claiming doctor patient confidentiality on this one, Chris. I know speculation is going to be fierce once the word gets out I’m pregnant, but I want to keep the father information private until the birth.”
“You just want to screw with the minds of the gossipers,” he said, laughing as she rolled up her sleeve.
“Hell yeah I do.”
“No worries, Lyzee. I’ll run it myself and then give you the information and destroy the test matter. No one will know the father but me.” Chris filled the vial and removed the needle. He labeled the vial ‘mother’. “You’re next Ethan,” he stated, getting the next needle ready and his boss rolled up his sleeve. When he was finished he labeled it ‘father’.
“Can we keep this from Callen until we get the results?” she asked. “If it comes back he isn't the father, I may not want him to know yet. He’s going to take it harder than Ethan will.”
Chris nodded. “Are you sure you won’t let Tony study you three? This would be the most fascinating anthropological journal article.”
Ethan grinned. “Not going to happen. What happens at Fort Blackhawk-Whitefox stays there.”
“I appreciate this, Chris,” Elizabeth said, patting his arm. “How’s everything working out with what we discussed the other day?”
There was no emotion on his face. “I didn’t call her yet.”
Elizabeth nodded. “If you need my help, just give me a call.” She’d intervene for her friend if need be.
“Thanks, Lyzee.” Once his bosses left, he stared down at his cell phone and then decided against it. Maybe after he ran their blood work and worked on the woman in autopsy. Yeah, Chris knew he was stalling, but he was just too afraid to know he absolutely blew it.
Sometimes not knowing was just a better option.
In the elevator, Elizabeth pulled out her phone and dialed the fire investigator. She wanted his files on any past arson. When she found out he was working out of his home office, it made her day. Now she could weasel her way into his personal surroundings to get a feel for him. Although she wasn’t sure what an arsonist’s home would look like, there was always the possibility she’d see something there that would get her attention. Making an appointment for the afternoon, she looked at her watch. Next step was the profile.
“You're very happy now,” Blackhawk stated, grinning. “You’ve been given a key to the man’s kingdom.”
“Am I that transparent, Ethan?” she asked, smiling wickedly.
He simply laughed, following Elizabeth to her office.
Once there, it looked like a party had begun to congregate, ready to get to work on the assignment. Callen was in her desk chair, Julian and Tori were on the couch beside Cyra Austin.
“I guess the gang’s all here,” she said, motioning for Callen to not get up. “Stay there, Cal,” she said, walking over and sitting on the arm of her chair. It was something she commonly did with Ethan too. When his hand went to her lower back, the connection offered reassurance over the secret that was being kept from the man.
“Were you both down playing in autopsy without me?” inquired Callen.
“You know me, I love to start my week checking out the corpses and talking death. Makes my personality all the more sunny and perky,” stated Elizabeth.
Ethan and Callen both snickered.
“Shall we get this show on the road?” she said, “Julian and Tori, head on out to ‘The Pussy Cat Club’, and check out the back of the building. If you find anything, contact base and we’ll send in a tech team. We have confirmation on victim five, and we can start trying to figure out how that club plays into all this.”
Julian stood and offered Tori his hand. He was a little shocked when she took it. “Gotcha, Boss.”
She thought about it. “Suit up under your jackets. I don’t want to take the risk that the killer decided to escalate to the route of taking out FBI agents.”
Tori nodded. “I’ll get Julian a vest.”
Detective Austin waited until they were gone. “Want me to go with them?” she offered.
Oh, Elizabeth had other plans for the Detective. “No, you get to hang out with me and the men as we break down the profile.” It wasn’t lost on her that she didn’t look exactly happy about that. “Do I make you nervous, Detective?”
“I’d be lying if I said no. You’re the head of FBI West.” There was no way she was bringing up the woman’s relationship. It was her business and whether she agreed or not it wasn’t up for discussion.
“Not really. He’s more the boss here at work. I just run the rules at home,” and then she switched tact. “I hear the men at work are riding you something fierce.”
Cyra shrugged. “Brian isn't happy that he’s been excluded, and Captain Gilman doesn’t like women that have brass balls and get the governor’s attention. You didn’t really make friends when you rolled into their jurisdiction.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Imagine that, the local law hates my guts. I wish I could say it’s a first, but it’s probably not even the one hundredth time. Myself and local PDs doesn’t mesh. I don’t tolerate stupidity, half-assed work ethic, and male ego. All of which your partner is hopelessly drowning in. I’d bet he’s an egomaniac with woman issues. If I had my way I’d ass kick him to Emily Post’s school of manners, or teach him myself. Just because he has a badge and gun, it doesn’t make him worthy of it.”
She nodded. “I agree completely. I pissed off Captain Gilman by not following his direct ordinance on a case, and Leto became my punishment. He partnered me with him to teach me a lesson. Yeah, I’m lead detective, but I have to spend most of my time babysitting a wildcard. I’m pretty much over it all.”
“Hate your job, Detective?” Elizabeth asked. If she lost the love for justice, then she might as well head on back to the squad room.
“I love my job, but I hate the politics. I want to find justice for the women, despite the fact that they were strippers and hookers. They were human beings.”
That Elizabeth completely understood. “Ethan, how about you dazzle me by doing what you do best?”
Blackhawk grinned. “I’d love to.”
“When it comes to profiling, Ethan is the king of the Quantico profilers. All the peasant- profiler wannabees want to be just like him when they grow up,” Elizabeth added, grinning. “In the FBI, when you take a training class on profiling, they use him as their point of reference.”
“I’m flattered and insulted that you’re using me for my mind,” her husband said laughing. Then he went serious as he focused on his notes. It was as if the switch was flicked, and he went dead serious. “This profile has two halves to it. First we need to get into the mind of the arsonist, and then the mind of a serial predator of prostitutes. Both are very common, and not often do they come together. It may make it harder or easier, depending on the evidence we accumulate.”
“I’m with you so far,” she said, going to her whiteboard. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s start with the typical arsonist. The setting and starting a fire is a control issue. The person actually derives great pleasure out of watching things being destroyed. Some arsonists purposely go for empty dwellings, while others risk the human lives in an attempt to save the lives. That specific arsonist falls under ‘pseudo hero’. In this case we can eliminate that aspect. Our killer isn't lighting up the motel, car or women to save them. He’s doing it to kill.”
Elizabeth scribbled on the whiteboard.
“How many types of arsonist classifications are there, Ethan?” inquired Callen, making his own notes. He was trying to learn everything he could from his brother.
“Great question, Cal. There are five classifications of the arsonist. Like I stated, the ‘Pseudo hero’ who lights up a building to rush in and be the helpful by-passer. There’s someone motivated by anger or jealousy. Like a neighbor has issues with a family dog destroying his property, he wants to get rid of the family so he burns the house down. Usually when no one is home, and if he kills the dog in the
process it’s more gratifying. After that you have the most common one. We call him the ‘fire buff’ or the fire fighter that just likes to be called to the scene. Usually it’s in smaller communities and volunteers. Again, they generally light up vacant buildings with the intent to help put them out. Death is generally accidental.”
Elizabeth thought about what they were thinking with Patrick Wells. He fit the ‘fire buff’ in a way. He got to work on the scenes post burn down.
“Then we have the person just doing it out of boredom.”
Callen laughed. “What ever happened to sitting down and reading a book?”
“I doubt our killer falls into any of those categories.” He glanced over at Elizabeth, knowing what she was thinking. Neither was willing to let the detective in on their possible suspicions. She’d worked with the man before and could tip him off.
“The final category is the one that I believe fits our killer best. It’s the pyromaniac. They light things up to satisfy their psychological obsessive compulsive needs.”
Elizabeth wrote that on the whiteboard and circled it. Drawing an arrow down, she waited for her husband to continue. “Tell me about the characteristics of our killer.”
Ethan sat on the couch, brushing invisible lint from his pricey suit, as he thought about it. “Our killer is targeting white women, so I feel safe saying we have a white male.”
“What else?” she asked.
“The typical pyromaniac is unmarried, socially awkward, not overly attractive and usually an underachiever. Job wise we’re looking at no college career. Think more of a blue collar person who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”
Elizabeth began pacing, thinking about the fire inspector. He wasn’t socially attractive, she wasn’t aware of his marital status, and his looks were average.
“Age wise is going to put him at early twenties up to forties. He’s not going to have rhyme or reason as to the locations he’s burning, like the motel. It was most likely where the hooker took him. It was a crime of opportunity. She had alcohol in the room, and he used what was at hand.”
Fire Burns Hot ((An FBI/ Romance Thriller~ (Book 5))) Page 39
