Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery)

by James Kipling

  It was only a matter of time before the hard questions came, but I was silently ready for them. Sandy asked first. “Dad, why are you so mad at Mom?”

  “She did something really bad,” I simply answered. “You know that.” That was about as far as I was willing to go with that.

  Usually I was good at keeping secrets, but like their mother, when I first knew her, I had a hard time keeping secrets from the girls. I felt bad when I lied to them, but I often had to because I didn’t want to scare them with the insane and horrifying things my job forced me to see and work around. What I did for a living wasn’t pretty, but I happened to be rather good at it, so I preferred to do it rather than force someone else to endure it on my behalf. Flo seemed to be a natural, as well. As I thought about her, something must have psychically alerted her because I got a text message from my partner less than a minute later. It read:

  All players and staff are safe. No reports of an attack on campus.

  I took a deep breath and sighed. The girls could tell I’d read something on the phone that made me do that. I could tell by the looks on their faces that they were worried that I’d been summoned back to work. “This is a good message. They just told me that everything was all right and I’m not needed. Not yet, at least.”

  The girls were happy for that and our day continued on a peaceful note as we cleaned the kitchen and watched one of the movies Cassie had rented. It was a dumb movie, but I enjoyed watching it just because it was with the girls, and there was nowhere else I’d rather be at that particular time.

  Since they’d put up with a lot, I decided to do something nice for them. “Pack up your things and toss them in the car. We’re going to hit the mall for some shopping and lunch before I drop you off at your mom’s house.”

  The girls were even more excited about this idea as they bolted upstairs to get ready. While they were upstairs, I gave Clive a call. It took a few seconds for the line to pick up. “Clive, it’s your bro.”

  “Did you get called in?” he automatically assumed. I kind of deserved that.

  “Not this time,” I answered. “I’m taking the girls to the mall for lunch and a little shopping. I thought you might like to join us. You’ve been a big help and I want you to join us for lunch. My treat.”

  There was a short pause. “You want me to come along just in case you get called in.”

  “That, too,” I admitted, “but right now things are quiet, and my captain knows I’ve got the girls – they’re going to do their best to not call me in. I don’t want to tempt fate, though, if you know what I mean. Anyway, after helping this weekend, you deserve to be taken out for lunch, too.”

  “I also deserve a new football jersey,” Clive replied.

  Now it was my turn to pause. “Fair enough.” Not only did Clive deserve a reward for being there for me, but I’d forgotten his birthday a few months ago, so this was a good opportunity to remain in his good books, especially since it was only a matter of time before I’d need his help again. Seemed like a small price to pay since he’d been so helpful, more so than the average brother.

  I picked Clive up at his place after the girls got ready, and we were at the mall in no time. We did a fair bit of window shopping. The girls were never usually the kind to ask for too much, but I felt very guilty about what had happened the night before so I was less resistant when they asked for things this time out.

  I never heard much from Flo when I was at the mall, just an odd text message from the hotel about the players grumbling about not being able to leave and do whatever they wanted. Some players liked the idea of being locked up as they didn’t have to study for mid-terms. Leave it to them to take advantage of someone trying to kill them. I’d have been willing to bet that they’d forgotten any textbooks and study materials on purpose, either as an excuse to get out or an excuse not to study.

  Making exceptions was too risky. The killer had no idea where they were and I preferred to keep it that way, at least until the feds got into town, which was most likely by the following day. Collins needed to convince his supervisor ˗ hopefully not too hard ˗ to get mobilized, and then it might take a day or so to call people in.

  I knew the drill, and as long as our potential targets were safe, we could afford to wait. This was actually more of a gamble, but I kept that thought to myself. While there was a chance the killer would refrain from killing if the potential targets were out of sight, there was always a chance the killer would take their anger out on someone else and change the M.O. to satisfy their urge to kill. As I wandered through the mall with my girls, I watched the phone to make sure that wasn’t the case. At this point, no news was good news. They weren’t going to call and interrupt unless someone showed up dead.

  The afternoon went well. The girls and Clive were all very pleased. I dropped Clive off at his place first before taking the girls home. It was the usual Sunday ritual, with the girls giving me a kiss on the porch before taking their stuff inside. I never went in because I didn’t want to interact with their mother. I’d done enough the night before, and I could tell she didn’t want to talk either, as all I got was a glare and then the door closed without so much as a peep from her. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I went back to my car and took the time to send a quick text message to my partner:

  How is everyone going?

  As I was driving back to my place, I received a return text from Flo:

  They’re doing all right but some of them are getting restless.

  At that moment, how the players and coaches felt about their accommodations didn’t bother me one little bit. Dying a slow and gruesome death would definitely upset them even more, so I was contented to ignore their whining. I returned home less than 20 minutes after I dropped off the girls, to the mess that was left behind.

  That was pretty typical of my weekends with the kids, ever since they were young. Although the townhouse I lived in was much smaller than the house Beth and I had lived in with the girls, it still took some time to clean. That was most likely because there was rarely anyone around to help me. Even doing the dishes was more fun when one of the girls would offer to dry as I washed. It was simple things like that I missed the most. I went from being a full time dad to a part time deadbeat.

  Five to six days a month was nothing, but that was the best I could get when I went to court. The terrible hours I clocked in at work didn’t help much, and things were bound to never go my way. Usually, unless a mother is doing drugs or worse, they normally win all the cases. It wasn’t fair, but just the way things were, and I had to accept it and try to make the best of it. I had tidied the living room and was working on the kitchen when the phone rang. I took a deep breath and quickly answered it. “This is Walker.”

  I recognized my Captain’s voice on the other line. “We need you downtown as soon as possible. We have another body.”

  7

  I’d been texting with Flo for pretty much most of the day, so if there was a new body, it wasn’t any of the boys we were guarding. My worst fear had come true. “What happened? Did a football player sneak out of the hotel or something?”

  “Nope,” the Captain confirmed. “From what we can tell, this victim has no association with the college or the team.”

  “Dammit,” I cursed. The killer had picked a new victim out of anger at not having access to his preferred targets. “I’ll be right over.”

  “I’m going to text the address to your cell,” he answered. The line went dead and I waited for a few seconds for the text to come in. It was time to get back to work. I quickly went upstairs and changed from the jeans and a t-shirt I’d been wearing all day.

  I threw on some dress pants and a dress shirt, skipped the tie, and just put on a trench coat rather than a jacket. I holstered my weapon under my left shoulder, went to the car, and sped off towards the crime scene. This was not what I was hoping would happen. I had spoken to Agent Collins earlier and he said that no more than three killings per city had occu
rred. Since we already had three, I was hoping that the killer wouldn’t just pick someone at random to satisfy his rage.

  Turns out I was wrong. This killer was escalating much faster than Collins had anticipated. I was hoping that he and his team were going to arrive sooner than later. There was another part of me that was hoping this might be a copycat and not our actual killer. Not exactly a good thing either, but part of me was hoping this might be a one-time thing and not something that was going to escalate to something even worse. I wasn’t going to know until I got there. While waiting at a stop light, I sent a new text to Flo:

  New victim found, going to the scene to confirm if this is the same person. Could it be one of our guests over there?

  A few moments later, I got a reply from Flo:

  I spoke to the captain already. We did a thorough head count and all are accounted for.

  It was a good message to receive. None of the players or staff had left the hotel and taken their lives into their own hands. That was my first fear: that the killer would wait for one of them to get out and come across them, but it hadn’t been very likely, I knew.

  The story I leaked to the press was to throw this killer off … make them think that we were interrogating them rather than protecting them. If the killer found this out and couldn’t find the people he wanted to attack, the urge to kill might have forced that person to pick a new target and change their method of operation just for the time being.

  This was another reason why I was eager to find out more from Agent Collins. I needed more information about the victims in the other cities. I needed to search for a possible link, to see why the other people from other states were targeted. In this sea of information were the clues that could help us crack this case, but the people would panic if they assumed we didn’t have control of the situation. It wouldn’t be an assumption, of course. We had control over nothing.

  Our attempts to protect the city had failed, but I had to look around the scene of the crime before I came to that conclusion for sure. As I pulled up, the press and countless onlookers were crowding the scene, to the point where it took me a few minutes to get through them. From what I could tell, the body was found near the back of an alley, but the police had it cut off so no one could see what was there.

  We were keeping specific details from the press, so if it was a copycat, we’d be able to know almost immediately. Once I was allowed into the alley, I strolled down quickly while putting on a pair of surgical gloves to protect the crime scene. When I got there, the body wasn’t covered up, and when I got closer, I could tell why.

  The victim’s pants were still on, which meant that unlike the previous victims, this person was most likely not sexually assaulted. But there were things that led me to automatically believe this was the same killer. The ball gag and the Taser marks were some of the details not given to the press, and this victim had burn marks from a Taser. When I looked up at one of the lab geeks already there, he held up the evidence bag that contained the ball gag. I cussed under my breath as this had indeed turned out to be the same person we had been hunting. He had attacked someone else, probably because the football players were no longer available. Whatever urge was compelling this person to kill, taking from the equation the people he wanted to attack didn’t hold him back for long.

  “Is this the same person?” one of the cops there asked.

  I reached for the victim’s leg and pulled a card out of his sock: the four of hearts. “It is the same person, but what did or didn’t happen to this person could help us in the long run.”

  “What do you mean?” the officer asked.

  “There are some differences between this victim and the first few. Why some things were done to them but not this guy could be clues to help us determine why the others were more vicious.” I walked around to the other side to view the body from a different angle. “How many stab wounds does this one have?”

  “Nowhere near as many,” he answered. “Only one or two.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that this man wasn’t tortured,” I said as I kept walking around. “The person was still bound and gagged to keep control, but rather than torture and rape the person, he just went straight for the kill.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to do it this time?” one of the lab geeks suggested.

  “Maybe, but it’s much more than that,” I said as I stood up and took a few notes. “I told you at the other scenes that those people were made to suffer. It was more personal, where this guy was just taken out with little effort.” I took a few steps back to look at the body from further away. There were some details that were bugging me, but there was no doubt: this was the same person. I took out my cell phone and dialed a number. After a few rings I got a response. “It’s Jake again. Any chance we’ll see you and your crew anytime soon?”

  Agent Collins could tell from my voice that something had happened. “You have another, don’t you?”

  “We do, which is upsetting,” I answered. “The first three victims were members of or staff associated with the football team. Tonight the killer went off grid and took out someone who had nothing to do with the college or the team.”

  “What do you think caused that?” Collins asked.

  “We took the remaining members of the team and have them holed up at a hotel for their safety,” I answered. “Could this have forced the killer’s hand?”

  “Wait one second,” Collins said as I could hear papers rustling in the background. “You said the first few victims had something to do with football?”

  “Yeah, two players and the coach,” I answered. “You have a similar pattern over there?”

  “I do,” Collins answered. “Four of the other six victims in other states were college football players.”

  “This can’t be a coincidence,” I said, eager to see the paperwork on that. “You need to bring in all that information with you. I need to see if there are any patterns that might explain this to us.”

  “We’ll do that. We’re wheels up in two hours,” Collins confirmed. “Our director has made your killer our top priority.”

  “Good to hear,” I said with a sigh of relief. “I look forward to seeing you again. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Me too, my friend,” Collins replied. “Get back to work and we’ll be there soon. Find me some clues that we can use for the profile.”

  “Will do.” I disconnected the line and continued to look around the crime scene. There were some subtle changes, but that had to be expected since it was a new type of victim. The lack of assault could mean this was a kill just for the sake of killing. The personal anger wasn’t here. Our killer wanted to kill, but was frustrated that the targets he wanted were not available to him. So he picked this person and did the bare minimum to get the needed fix, like someone hooked on a drug. I looked around and spoke to the first forensics tech I saw. “Do we have a wallet?”

  “Here.” She passed it over.

  “Thanks.” I had gloves on so I didn’t have a problem opening the evidence bag and inspecting it. I looked at his driver’s license. “He lives less than a block from here. He was attacked while walking home.” I put the wallet back into the bag and gave it back to the tech before leaving the alleyway. I needed to visit the next of kin and investigate if this victim had connections to the other kids that were killed. As I was leaving, I bumped into Captain Bancroft, who was again fending off the press. “Hey, boss,” I called to him as I walked out.

  The press was screaming questions at me, but I, for the most part, ignored them and walked aside to somewhere private with my boss. He didn’t look happy, as I expected. He was hoping to get through the rest of the weekend without any more killings before the feds arrived. “Is it the same asshole?”

  “I’m pretty sure,” I replied. “We found a card in his sock but there were some slight differences from the others.”

  “Such as?”

  “No assault. Pants were never pulled
down.”

  “Okay. How does that strike you?”

  “It tells me this one wasn’t personal. Whoever killed the kids and the coach wanted them to suffer. This person obviously had nothing to do with whatever was angering our killer.”

  “That gives us an idea that this grudge is with the football team.” I could see the boss was on the same page with me. The Captain continued, “So keeping them at that hotel seems to be working to an extent, just not as well as we hoped it would. This bastard still wants to kill, but he only wants to torture the guys we have at the hotel.”

  “That seems to be the case, boss.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I’m going to walk down the street to interview the victim’s next of kin. He lives just down the street from here.”

  “All right, is there anything else we could be doing?”

  “Get someone at the station to look back at least two years into our records.”

  “What are we looking for, Jake?”

  “Complaints against the football team,” I answered. “We should look for allegations that were later dismissed or not even charged at all. This killer could be avenging something that happened, something where he never got any satisfaction from the courts, or at least not enough.”

  “I like where you’re going with this,” the Captain said. “You really think the killer started here?”

  “I think whatever is bugging the shit out of this prick started here, yes.”

  Captain Bancroft nodded and went back to his car. Rather than follow him to head to my own car, I started to walk down the street towards the address that was on the victim’s identification. Halfway down the street, one of the reporters ran up to speak with me. “Tina, I told you, when I have something you’ll be the first to know.”