by Ty Patterson
I decided the moment Zoe thumped those Franklins at Meghan. But what if I said no?
‘No.’
Hurt and disappointment crashed loudly in the room.
Beth stared at Zeb for a long time and then put a brave face on. ‘Well then, we’re going to investigate on our own. I hope you won’t stop us.’
I expected nothing less.
He smiled, smiling was easier these days, and leaned over and squeezed her shoulder.
‘Of course we’ll help them. You didn’t even have to ask.’
The couch rocked as she crashed into him, hugged him, and a muffled thank you came from the depths of his shoulder.
Meghan gave a mock sniff and wiped her eyes theatrically. ‘Very touching,’ she said drily, ‘now how about we get back to catching this killer?’
Beth leaned over her shoulder, scrolled down rapidly and read the rest of the coverage. ‘How about asking the NYPD how far their investigation had taken them?’
She waggled her eyebrows at Zeb. ‘You’ve got juice over there.’ Juice was twin speak for influence.
Zeb and his crew had helped the NYPD apprehend another vicious serial killer, the Baseball Bat Killer, on a previous assignment. Prior to that, Broker and the rest had rid the city of a ruthless Russian gang.
There was more than enough in the goodwill bank for Zeb to draw on.
‘Let’s talk to Gramma first and make things tidy with her.’
Gramma came to them.
Oct 8th-14th
Beth’s paper plane flew gracefully and landed at the feet of the tall, silver-haired lady who stood a couple of feet inside their office the next day.
She burned red in embarrassment as cool, grey eyes met hers. They moved past her and rested on Meghan who stared back in astonishment, her coffee mug half way to her lips.
‘You are?’ Beth stammered as she took in the woman’s long purple dress, sensible walking shoes, and the laser stare.
How did she get here? Security didn’t call.
‘Regina Hunnicker, here to meet Zeb Carter.’
It wasn’t a request.
Zeb rose from the couch and gestured at a chair in front of Meghan. He dragged another and seated himself by her side.
‘Ma’am, how can I help you?’
Her eyes were cool as they studied him, drifted to the twins and took in the rest of the office.
‘I believe Liz and Zoe met you yesterday, to hire you. Did you accept?’
Zeb deflected. ‘We were planning to meet you, ma’am, and discuss the situation.’
‘You didn’t answer me, young man. Did you accept?’
‘We –’
‘Yes or no?’ The even tone gave way to impatience.
‘Yes, ma’am. But –’
‘For how much?’
Meghan made to speak; Zeb silenced her with a look and asked mildly. ‘Permission to speak, ma’am?’
A flicker of amusement appeared and disappeared just as swiftly in Regina Hunnicker’s eyes.
‘Granted, but before you do, some of that Jamaican Blue Mountain I smell, will help.’
The amused look came back as the Petersens gaped at her.
‘I’m old, but my senses aren’t dead.’
Zeb gestured at Beth; I’ll deal with this, and disappeared into the pantry leaving the twins alone with her. He grinned as he set about brewing coffee for all of them.
We’re in for an interesting time.
There was an uncomfortable silence when he returned and handed her a mug. A wad of bills lay in front of her, the same notes Zoe had thrust at Meghan. After an appreciative sip, her gaze commanded him to continue.
‘We didn’t agree a fee, ma’am. They left before we could. Liz said something about reaching home before you hurled thunder and lightning.’
‘I’m sure they didn’t say that.’ She paused and when no response came from him, she added.
‘My husband was a four-star General at the Pentagon. Bill passed away about ten years back, but I’m still close to many of his friends. I made some enquiries about you. You know what I found?
‘Nothing. These are men and women who know almost everything about our defense and intelligence set up and yet they didn’t know anything about you. That’s surprising isn’t it? Many of them recited your service history, which had gaping holes. All of them said you were a good guy, but none of them actually knew what you did when you were in the army.
‘The NYPD Commissioner’s wife and I sit on the board of a charity. I’ve been to their home several times. Bruce spoke well of you.
She paused waiting for a reaction from Zeb and when none came, she continued. ‘Young man, I know this isn’t enough for the kind of work you do.’ She picked up one of the hundred dollar bills that Zoe had thrust at the twins. ‘Name your price.’
Zeb blinked and the iron lady relaxed for the first time. ‘You thought my babies could come here, discuss their mom with you, hire you, and I wouldn’t know?’
Babies.
Something uncoiled and loosened within Zeb.
Regina Hunnicker isn’t caring for the girls because she has to. She wants to!
‘I knew the two were hatching something the way they looked at each other. I overheard Lizzie’s conversation, yes, my dear; I spied on her,’ she smiled at Beth, ‘and then looked up the history on my computer. The rest of it was easy.’
Zeb cleared his throat. ‘Ma’am – ’
A finger went up, she wasn’t finished yet.
‘Mary was our only child. Bill and I wanted a few more, but it wasn’t meant to be. She was our life, our universe. We were proud of the woman she became; a strong woman who made a name for herself in a man’s world. When she married Brad, it was as if we gotten a son. Life was perfect.’
‘Then she was killed and that horrible package arrived. Bill had died a few years earlier. I don’t know how he would have handled it if he was alive. Brad, he just died of a broken heart.
‘There was some talk of the girls going into state care. That talk died quickly when I faced down the Office of Children and Family Services. They were my girls, I would bring them up.’
She slowed down and the laser stare returned. ‘So, Mr. Carter, all that history is so that you know my position. Consider yourself hired not just by the girls, but by me as well. We want you to find the killer.
‘We want closure.’
Zeb opened his mouth, the finger went up again.
‘Brad and Mary left a trust fund for the girls. I manage it and there’s more than enough in it to cover such costs. In addition, I have my resources. Name your price.’
Meghan replied smoothly. ‘Ma’am, what Zeb has been trying to say,’ if you would have allowed him to, ‘is that we don’t take on such cases normally. We work with corporations and advise them on security and personnel protection. We have worked with the NYPD a few times – ’
‘As I said, young lady, name your price. I can smell a negotiation tactic a mile away. We don’t need to dance that jig. Let’s cut to the chase.’
Meghan colored, but her tone remained even. ‘Ma’am, there’s no price.’ She pushed the bills across to Regina Hunnicker. ‘We were planning to return this to Liz.’
She saw the expression on the elderly woman’s face and hurried on. ‘We will look into your daughter’s abduction.’
Regina Hunnicker’s eyes drilled each one of them and came back to Meghan.
‘Why?’
‘Beth and I lost our folks some time back. We know how that feels. We know how closure feels.’
Their visitor looked at Zeb as if to say, what about him?
He shrugged. ‘I know my place in the world, ma’am. I do what they say.’
She smiled genuinely for the first time and relaxed. ‘Bill was like that.’
She ran her fingers round the rim of her mug, shook her head at Beth’s shall I top it up look.
‘What do you need from me? From us?’
‘Everything that you know.
’
Two hours later it turned out she didn’t know much more than what was reported in the press.
‘She didn’t have enemies. It wasn’t a robbery; nothing was stolen from their home. She wasn’t having an affair. It was just a psychopath who randomly targeted her and the other two women.’
A phone rang.
Beth picked it up, raised her eyebrows and whispered something in it.
‘What?’ Meghan asked her when she saw her twin smiling.
‘You’ll see.’
Five minutes later, Zoe rushed into the room, Liz followed at a more sedate pace.
They halted and stared.
‘Gramma?’
Another hour, a cookie jar, and a pinky swear between Zeb and Zoe later, Gramma swept her wards along with her and departed leaving a silence behind.
A silence that Beth impatiently broke, ‘what now, hotshot?’
Zeb got to his feet, put on his shoulder holster, and grabbed his jacket.
‘Let’s talk to the cops.’
NYPD Commissioner Bruce Rolando’s office was like the man - wood paneling, large picture windows, a burnished charcoal desk - it imbued a sense of trust in visitors.
Rolando came from behind the desk, hugged them and when they were seated, his eyes strayed to the door.
Zeb read his glance. ‘Broker’s traveling in the Bahamas. Work.’
Rolando snorted. ‘I’m sure it involves beaches and martinis.’
The Commissioner and Broker had served together while in the Rangers and during a mission in Somalia, Zeb had rescued them from enemy fire. The bonds had stayed true and deep.
Rolando knew Zeb’s security business was a cover for black-ops missions, but the professional that he was, he never asked. If he had asked about Broker’s mission, Zeb would have told him the truth.
Broker was tracking down terrorist funds stashed away in various tax havens across the world. Bear and Chloe, Roger and Bwana, were in Australia working on another agency mission, to help identify home grown extremists.
‘How can I help you?’ Rolando asked them once they had finished the small talk.
‘The Cold Finger Killer. Which one of your detectives should we talk to?’
Something flickered across the Commissioner’s face. ‘What’s your interest?’
When Beth finished briefing him, he punched a number on his phone, murmured something and sat back with a faraway look in his eyes.
A knock on his door and two detectives came in, as different as chalk and cheese.
The first one looked like he was a model and would have looked at home on a magazine cover. He was Zeb’s height, just a shade over six feet and wore a light blue jacket, a white shirt, a gold tie with tiny red dots over khaki slacks. Dark shades completed his look.
The second one was of Asian descent, a few inches shorter than his partner, and wore a rumpled linen suit and perpetually sleepy eyes.
‘You know these guys,’ Rolando said drily.
Zeb nodded at the entrants, Detective Pizaka, the model, and Detective Chang, the sleepy-eyed one. They were two of the smartest on the force and had worked with Zeb in bringing down a serial killer.
Pizaka regarded Zeb and his team as mavericks, Zeb thought he was too rigid. They got along well, but for the prickly feeling when they were in each other’s vicinity. Jerry Chang was different and he bumped fists with the twins as his partner looked on disdainfully.
‘Zeb was asking about the Cold Finger Killer,’ Rolando told Pizaka once his shades swung to the Commissioner.
‘Why?’
Meghan explained briefly.
Zeb read the looks the cops traded. ‘What’s up?’
‘He’s back.’
Chapter 4
October 8th -14th
Zeb and the twins followed the detectives to their desks, Pizaka’s neatly organized one in stark contrast to Chang’s, and hung around while Chang commandeered a meeting room.
Pizaka disappeared and came back with a file from which he extracted a sheet of paper.
It had a single typed line.
Missed me? Fear not. I’m back.
‘We got it two months back. It was in a plain envelope addressed to the Commissioner.’
‘It’s all right. It has been dusted. We got no prints, no fibers, nothing.’ He said when Beth gripped the sheet in a corner.
‘That letter-sized paper is available in any office supplies store. The envelope had no marking.’
Zeb frowned. ‘I’m missing something. What’s the link to the killer?’
Pizaka removed another item from the file.
A ribbon, frayed at both ends.
‘You know how the fingers were sent?’
The twins nodded. The abductor had sent each finger gift-wrapped in a small box. Each box was packed with dry ice in which the digit nestled.
Pizaka dangled the ribbon in front of them. ‘This one matches the one that was on Mary McCallum’s box. The frayed ends are identical. He sent two other ribbons, both a match for the Kohler and Krantz ones.’
Chang saw the disbelief in Beth’s eyes. ‘Yeah, he kept these for four years. We are dealing with a trophy collector.’
Zeb stirred and broke the ensuing silence. ‘There’s hasn’t been anything recently in the press about the investigation.’
Pizaka growled and the shades came off. ‘That’s because we got nothing. McCallum’s body was dumped in an empty lot at night.’ He named it. ‘No one was around to see the killer unloading it. The other two women – still missing, presumed dead. If the killer hadn’t sent us their fingers we wouldn’t have connected the three women. Killer three, cops zero. That’s what we’ve got.’
His voice rose after each word in frustration and only when Chang looked long at him did he pause to take a deep breath.
‘All three women worked in Manhattan, all of them in high profile jobs.’ Zeb mused. ‘How did you identify Kohler and Krantz? You had DNA records for them or thumb prints?’
‘Both worked with employers who require every one of their employees to go through a thorough health scan that involves DNA and blood testing.’
‘Their lives overlapped?’
‘Nada, nothing that linked the women, their employers, or their social circles. No unusual financial transactions. All three had homes between Upper East Side and Midtown, all three had nannies and part time help, but none of those were in common.’
Zeb looked out through the window, past the towering high-rises of the city, at a sliver of blue sky. A city of eight million, one of the few in the world in which women outnumbered men.
‘Any other women reported missing in the city since that note? Those that fit the profile, I mean?’
‘Nope, we’ve been liaising closely with Missing Persons. In a city this large, there are always people who disappear, but none of them are young, blonde, professional women who are lookers too.’
‘What about before the note?’
Chang brought his thumb and forefinger together. ‘Zip.’
Zeb nodded thoughtfully.
Why did he go quiet? Or did he?
‘What about the rest of the country?’
‘A couple of women went missing but were found subsequently. One was in California and one in Texas. Both were found a week later. The Californian, a stock broker in a large investment firm, had fled from a domestic abuse situation. The one in Texas worked in an internet company and just took a break without informing anyone. She turned up later in a cabin her family owned, unharmed and well.’
‘So the three became a cold case?’ Meghan broke the silence, trying hard not to accuse the two cops, but it was there in her posture.
Chang smiled. ‘Relax, Meg. With Zak around, there aren’t any cold cases. They get put on slow burning charcoal. Occasionally he will go and blow them to flame. With these cases, there wasn’t a flame.’
‘Why did he send those boxes to the paper but this letter to you?’
Chang shrugged and th
e smiled widened just a bit to take the sting away from his words. ‘We’ll ask him when we meet him.’
‘Come on, sis,’ Beth exclaimed impatiently. ‘Can’t you figure it out? This is a guy who loves to mock the cops. He knows they have nothing on him and is rubbing it in.’
Pizaka lowered his shades and looked at her with respect. ‘That’s what we figured. The paper gave him the publicity, but this gives him the bragging rights if you can call it that.’
‘He still might leak the letter to the press and bring a whole load of unwanted pressure on you.’
Pizaka closed the file with a slap and grimaced. ‘Don’t we know it?’ He looked at his watch and shifted impatiently, his cue to leave.
‘He’s going to kill again.’
‘I’m aware of that, but as long as we’ve nothing to go on, we just have to wait for his next move.’
He strode out and left Chang with them who smiled wryly. ‘You know how Zak is. He likes everything neat and tidy – ’
‘Just like what he sees in the mirror.’ Beth smirked.
Chang shook a warning finger. ‘I’ll ignore that. This case is making him nervous.’
He threw a questioning look at Zeb. ‘You guys are really going to look into this?’
‘Yeah, we promised a couple of kids.’
The killer folded the newspaper and stretched in the pale sunlight of a Manhattan winter morning. The waitress bustled across and smiled widely when he ordered a second cappuccino.
Good looks have their benefits.
He had been coming to the café quite frequently and the same waitress had rushed to serve him every time.
I could take her anytime. But that wouldn’t be fun, would it? Now that other woman...
The other woman was a slim blonde who was sitting inside the café, tapping furiously on a laptop. She paused now and then to answer messages on her Blackberry.
The killer had followed her the first time he had seen her, to a Midtown office that bore a discreet triple-barreled name. A law firm, not just another one in a city full or attorneys but a white shoe firm.
He toyed briefly with going after her.
Nope. Not another lawyer. Need another profession.
