Blue Baby

by Arnold, Carolyn

  Powers and Barber sauntered over to us. I noticed the swagger on Barber immediately, but what I detected first was the smile he gave Paige. It was the kind that said he had a secret. A quick glance at Paige confirmed it as far as I was concerned: they had spent the night together. But instead of anger churning in my gut as it had on previous occasions, I found I was happy she had moved on. She was right. I had, too. And I had no right to hold her back.

  Powers braced his hands on his hips and squinted into the afternoon sun. “I assume Lila told you they’ve got nothing to forensically tie Gavin to Penny?”

  Jack let out a long puff. “Good assumption.”

  “They still have DNA to compare to Penny,” Paige offered. I could’ve sworn there was a touch of red to her cheeks when everyone’s eyes went to her. I surmised it had to do with Barber’s attention, not any of ours.

  “So what are you thinking? I remember you mentioning an online dating site. Do you think it might factor in, considering everything?” Powers asked.

  Jack dropped the cigarette to the concrete and twisted it with his shoe. I didn’t think he was going to respond, but a few seconds later he did. “Our girl’s looking into it from that angle. She has all the victims’ computers. She’s confirmed they were all members of the same site.”

  “That’s a start.”

  Jack continued as if Powers hadn’t interrupted him. “There’s nothing to connect them to the same profile.”

  The six of us stood there, lost in the fact that we were left without direction. We had pursued leads only to meet with dead ends.

  My mind told me there was something staring straight at us, but we were overlooking it. And I couldn’t grasp the thought long enough to get its substance. Maybe if we stabbed at it from another angle. “What was so special about Penny Griffin?”

  Based on their facial expressions, my question stumped all of them.

  “All right,” I continued. “So our guy kills one year ago. Then again on the same date this year. His third victim was murdered three days after the second. We know that’s out of pattern for him.”

  “It’s not unusual once we get involved. Unsubs have been known to accelerate once they know we’re looking into their kills,” Zach interjected.

  “I know that, but look at the women: They are roughly the same age. Cheryl and Penny had brown hair and brown eyes, but Tara was a blonde with gray eyes.”

  “Point, Pending?”

  I caught the sneer on Barber’s lips, and I wasn’t sure at whom I wanted to lash out, him or Zach for saying it in the first place. I calmed myself before speaking. “He used earrings from prior victims—”

  “We don’t know where Cheryl’s came from yet,” Paige added.

  I pointed a finger at her. “And I believe those earrings will line up with whoever unknowingly contributed Penny’s dress and ring. My question is, what made Penny stand out from the rest? If he was recreating what he had seen, why use the items from the first woman on Penny?”

  “You think Penny was his ideal?”

  “I’m not sure. She could have been. He could’ve felt rushed to kill again and Penny fit the parameters another way. All I know is something about Penny made him detour from the norm. He picked her even though she wasn’t engaged.” The words were coming out faster than I could think them through. I knew the adage was to think before you speak, but I was violating it fiercely.

  I glanced around at the others. Their eyes were on me as if they were waiting for me to come up with a revelation. But I had nothing.

  -

  Chapter 51

  THE TEAM WAS DOWN AT PD, holed up in the room with the case board. I had stared at the images of the three women for days, their faces blurring together, as I yearned for them to speak through the colored ink.

  Ink…

  “He drew the victims after posing them. The charcoal found at Penny’s apartment could testify to that.”

  “We’ve discussed this,” Zach said.

  “Yes, but we failed to find out if Gavin was an artist. Not that it seems he’s behind this anymore.”

  Paige wagged her finger as she rose to her feet. “Are you thinking the killer may have met the women in an art class?” Her eyes widened. “It’s possible.”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t, but that’s another possibility.”

  Her brow tightened. “What were you thinking, then?”

  “I just think it tells us he appreciates beauty as much as he values happiness.”

  “Wow, that hardly narrows things down. I think everyone loves both,” Zach said.

  “Yes, but the combination is key.”

  “You’ve lost me, Brandon.” Paige angled her head to the right.

  I let out a deep breath. “With all three women, the killer made them up. He put earrings on them, did their makeup, and dressed them in gowns. Most little girls dream about Prince Charming. Translation: their wedding day.”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “Then I must have been a boy.”

  Zach laughed. “We know our victims fantasized about men. Obsessed is a fitting description. They were engaged and cheating, or at least flirting with other men. They were each looking for one man who would make her feel special enough to stop looking. They wanted men to make them happy.”

  “But how does this get us any closer to stopping the guy?” Paige asked.

  Her question silenced all of us, the quiet screaming around us.

  Our unsub was a man who appreciated both beauty and happiness. He had a way of connecting with women. They were at ease in his company. He didn’t have sex with them. This line of thought brought me to a worthwhile conclusion.

  I spoke at the same time as Zach did. “He’s homosexual.”

  Zach elaborated, and his words resonated with me, matching what I was thinking. “He appreciates beauty and loves happiness. To attain happiness, it is philosophized one must follow their truth and bliss.”

  “The fact that he doesn’t have sex with the women further testifies to his sexuality,” I added. “The women opened their homes—and their bedrooms—to him. They trusted him.”

  “They trusted him because they knew they were safe with him.” Paige swallowed roughly. “Or they thought they were. Plus, he’s described as handsome, as being in good shape.”

  I nodded. “He leveled three men. Even if he blacked out, he’d need strength and agility behind him. Add to that the fact that Cheryl and Tara each supposedly had a mystery man who their friends thought may be married.”

  “Angela thought Cheryl’s lover was Gavin Bryant.”

  “What if there was another mystery man? Our unsub. But instead of being a romantic friend to these women, the relationships were platonic. It could explain why Cheryl and Tara didn’t tell their friends about him.”

  “There was nothing to tell,” Paige conceded. “He also wouldn’t have been a threat to them. They would have trusted him in their homes. It was also why he knew so much about them. They probably spoke openly to him about their relationships with other men. He was a neutral third party, a sounding board. He would have known all about their failed romances.”

  “Yet he never got aggressive with the men. The object of his attention was always the women,” I said.

  “Going back to the experience he had at a young age, the woman he lost was heartbroken over a man,” Zach started.

  “Maybe the wedding was called off at the last minute,” Paige suggested. “Or he cheated on her.”

  “Either would be a devastating blow,” I said.

  With my statement the discussion dried out, leaving us in contemplative silence again. Its short life ended with Jack’s ringing phone.

  “What have you got, Nadia?” he answered on speaker.

  “I got ahold of the dating company. The two adminis
trators for the site are in Europe on vacation.”

  “No one else has access? That sounds like a load of bullshit.”

  “I thought the same thing, but I’ve hit a wall.” Nadia’s frustration was palatable. “Messages are in for them. I was able to obtain a warrant for this information, Jack.”

  I glanced at Paige, then Zach. My gaze settled on Jack.

  “Nadia, we’re starting to think that he may be gay,” I said. “Would this change anything?”

  Nadia laughed. “It doesn’t. Join us in this century, Brandon.”

  “I just meant does Ideal Partner cater to homosexuals as well as heterosexuals?”

  Nadia continued. “There are dating sites out there specific to seeking a same-sex partner, but, yes, Ideal Partner offers both.”

  “So we’re back to waiting on the administrators?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, boss. The second I get anything, I’ll call.”

  “You do that, Nadia. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night.”

  The way Jack worded it carried a deeper meaning than the obvious rush to solve the case. Whatever he was facing in his personal life was making it hard for him to sleep through the night, too. It could be speculation on my part, but I was trained to look at things differently, to sense the underlying message. And to top it off, the rims of his eyes were red and dark circles hung beneath his eyes. Yes, he definitely wasn’t sleeping.

  -

  Chapter 52

  “TO NAILING THIS BASTARD.” Sam raised his tumbler of whiskey.

  Paige clinked her glass to his and then sipped her martini. As she did so, she questioned her alcoholic choice. She wasn’t sure why she’d gone with the standard martini—vodka, a splash of dry vermouth, and three olives. Her favorite libation was a glass of red, but it didn’t seem like it would be enough to cut it tonight.

  They were at Shooters & Pints, and her purpose ran contrary to what Jack had wanted. He preferred she stay away from it, that she leave the intention of those guys out of this investigation. She saw his point, but it didn’t mean she agreed with it. It wasn’t like she was pursuing this while there were other issues needing attention. The investigation was stalled, and until a fresh lead came along, what harm was there in lighthearted conversation?

  Besides, her priority was finding out about Penny’s state on the night of her murder. Paige might not be able to hold the three guys accountable using the law, but she could forge facts together and convince them she had that capability. She could scare them, at least. But would it even matter? Was it possible for guys like that be rewired, or would they always play the game the same way?

  “You look deep in thought,” Sam said.

  “Yeah.” She pressed on a smile, not sure if it showed or not.

  “About the case?”

  The way he was peering into her eyes—or maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol—made it seem as if he were reading her mind. There was a hint of empathy there, understanding.

  It was ironic how she had bared her flesh to the man but couldn’t find it within to expose her soul. But they were separate entities. The soul, the mind, the spirit went beyond the boundaries of the flesh. It was greater, more substantial, more significant.

  “I’m thinking about Penny.”

  “I thought for sure we had this guy.”

  “I know. It was definitely looking like Gavin was our unsub.” She swirled the skewer with the olives, making a mini whirlpool in her glass. “Can you imagine Gavin’s face when the Department of International Affairs came to take him back to the States? Here he is on vacation.” She laughed.

  “The guy hasn’t paid full taxes in fifteen years and he claimed welfare. He had to know it was going to bite him in the ass eventually.”

  She heard Sam speak, but her gaze drifted over to the bar. For a Thursday, it was holding its own. The place drew a diverse crowd—young and old—but only a few older couples were out at this hour. It was nine now. She saw one gentleman flag down a server, and from his body language, she surmised he was requesting the bill.

  Being able to read people and situations never got old. Being able to accept that sometimes her assumptions were incorrect was difficult, though, and there was always that potential. Seemingly predictable people could react or respond in a capricious manner. Those situations both stymied and intrigued her. No amount of training or assessment guaranteed any particular outcome.

  She and Sam sat in a booth across from the bar counter. She had arrived and secured the table an hour ahead of their meeting time. She’d hoped to speak to the bouncer and bar staff before Sam arrived, but that hadn’t gone according to plan. He’d had the same idea to arrive at eight, and upon seeing each other, they both had laughed.

  “Great minds,” he had said.

  She pinched her fingers around the stem of her martini glass. “I’ve got to be honest with you.”

  Sam cocked his head to the right. His usual confidence was tinged with defensiveness. He must’ve hypothesized about what she was about to say. She doubted his assumptions would come close to the mark.

  “I came here to talk to the bar staff.”

  He grinned and nodded.

  “You knew?” She bunched up the square napkin that used to be under her drink.

  “FBI agents aren’t the only ones who can read people, you know.”

  She narrowed her eyes and let go of the napkin. “I guess it wasn’t that far of a stretch to figure out.”

  “Well, why else come to the bar where a victim was last seen alive? Logic dictates it would be to get some answers. And”—he pointed to her glass—“since you’re doing this on your own time, I’d say you’re here for a personal reason. It wasn’t a mission your boss sent you on. Speaking of, what is up with—”

  “No, you don’t get to ask that. Jack’s a great guy and a good boss.”

  “He just seems like a tight ass. Sorry.”

  She realized how Jack might appear to other people, but to hear Sam express his opinion made her angry. “You have no idea what he’s been through in his life, what he’s going through lately.”

  Sam held his hands up in surrender.

  “Sorry,” she said, “but I don’t like people talking about others they don’t know.”

  “All right. I can appreciate that. I don’t know the man.”

  “That’s right.” She pushed her glass away. There was easily half the drink left, but she didn’t need it. She didn’t want it.

  “You’re leaving because of what I said?”

  She shook her head. The way rage was pulsing through her system, she could have, but she wasn’t giving herself the easy way out. She should have known better than to drink vodka in the first place. It had a way of changing her chemical balance. Whether it was the process or the higher alcohol content, she wasn’t sure, but vodka put her on edge and made her negative. She should have stuck with wine. But she wasn’t going to share this with Sam. She would, however, share something else.

  “You’re right about Jack not sending me here, though. This is personal.” She swore his ears perked up. “It goes back to college.”

  “Okay…”

  Now he was confused and interested, but all she needed was for him to listen. She had told part of the story to Zach, but she had never disclosed all of it to another person. But there was a quality about Sam that chipped at her cool reserve. Maybe it was the fact that she’d never see him again once she left Grand Forks that made it easier to open up? She told him what had happened, and by the time she finished, she was wishing again for a glass of wine.

  “So you became FBI because of this?”

  Paige nodded. She felt lighter from releasing the burden. Her parents didn’t even know why she chose this career path. They’d tried to talk her out of it by telling her the dangers,
but their words hadn’t deterred her. Her father had gone so far as to secure an administrative job for her in the corporation where he worked. She’d wanted nothing to do with it. She’d been determined to find justice for others since she hadn’t been able to for Natasha.

  “So this is why you want to hold those guys responsible for drugging Penny?”

  She nodded. “I’d love to, but we both know from a legal standpoint it’s not possible.”

  There were a few seconds of silence before Sam was smirking.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, you have to go home once you catch the murderer.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t.”

  Now she understood. She smiled. “You’re going to become their worst nightmare.”

  “You got it. I might have to work this on my own time—I can’t see the sarge authorizing me for the time to pursue this—but I have a contact who works in Sex Crimes in Fargo.”

  “And you’d do this for me?”

  “For you, for the girls who they would rape if I didn’t.”

  She reached across the table for his hand. If they weren’t in a public place, she’d do better than some hand-holding. Maybe it was time to get out of here.

  She bit down on her lip. “Why don’t you take me back to the hotel?”

  Sam let go of her hand and sat back into his chair. “Nope.”

  “Nope?” Her heart was pounding. She’d offered herself, and he was rejecting her?

  “We’re not going anywhere until you ask your questions and get some answers.”

  She didn’t believe in falling head over heels. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. She certainly didn’t believe in love after one night of hot sex. But she did believe she was beginning to like this guy.

  -

  Chapter 53