Oh yeah, this was going to be an easy one, she thought. “You got a car?” She really hoped it wouldn’t be on her knees in the alley.
That was getting old.
“I do,” he said, standing beside the really nice vehicle. “You want to get in the front or back?”
She preferred the back. There were tinted windows and if a cop rolled by, she would be covered. “I like the rear seat best.”
He opened the door, and she climbed in. Already the glint was in his eye. This was all too easy. Clambering in behind her, he pretended to slip and fall onto her as he laughed about it.
Before she could react, his hands were around her throat, as her smaller body was trapped beneath his. As she stared up at him in fear, he whispered in her ear.
“You’ve been very ‘naughty’, but that’s going to make it extra ‘nice’.” He laughed even more, as her eyes went large as the air was cut off. As soon as she was manageable, he’d prep her for their little trip to his home.
There was the strangled gurgle, as her eyes rolled back into her head as she passed out.
Now, it was time to give himself the gift that kept on giving- a very ‘naughty’ present to unwrap.
* * *
Standing in the autopsy suite, they all were trying not to focus on the dead woman. In life she’d been a nun and in death, she’d been the victim of a horrible crime.
She’d taken an oath of purity, and in the end it was stolen by a man so twisted that they all doubted that he had any conscience whatsoever.
It disgusted them all.
Death always did, but today the seedy element had hit another new low.
“She was definitely sexually assaulted,” Steele Bentley confirmed. “And for that matter, it was done repeatedly.”
Emma simply sighed. At some point, it should stop surprising her, and yet it never did.
“She was choked multiple times.”
Croft dropped his arm across his wife’s body and rested his hand on her hip.
“In the bite mark, we found DNA. It’s off being processed. As soon as I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know,” he reassured.
“We need a time of death,” Croft stated. He was hoping to match anything to the reverend at that point.
The ME flipped through the file until he found the information. “When we found her this morning, she’d been dead since approximately midnight last evening.”
Emma glanced over at her husband. “We really need to head there and talk to the staff and people living at the shelter. Someone may have seen or heard something.”
Croft agreed. That was their first job at this point. It was a notify, but it was to an even bigger group of people who probably loved Sister Mary Catherine very much.
Pulling out his phone, he sent a message to his partner to try and get a gauge on where he was with the financials. They needed something. With the DNA being processed for Reverend Thomas Cory, if it came back matching, they’d be in the clear, but they needed to prepare for the worst.
That meant waiting a couple more hours.
There were two things that kept them from calling it a day and starting back up in the morning. The first was that the killer had left them only one victim. Did that mean that there was someone else at that moment slotted to be murdered next?
Then there was the escalation.
The crazy train was ready to jump the tracks. If they didn't stop him soon, who knew what he had planned.
He’d already gone after a nun. How much more depraved could he possibly get?
It looked like they were about to have a very long night as they waited on the information.
“Come on, honey,” he said, taking her hand. “Doctor, if you find anything or hear anything, I don’t care what time it is, call me.”
“Sure thing, Director Croft.”
The man watched them leave and understood exactly what they were feeling. Doing a notify was one of the worst parts of their jobs, but it was a necessary evil. Now, they’d be going to visit a group of people and ripping off the Band-Aid as they delivered the news. Those individuals who were living at the shelter had a rough enough life as it was, but it was about to get worse.
He stared back down at Sister Mary Catherine and remorse filled him as he gently touching her forehead.
“May God have mercy on your soul.”
It was the never ending supply of financial paperwork. They’d divided it up into piles, according to banking, credit cards and debts. At that moment, they were scanning and cross checking each and every entry in hopes to find something that strung all six women together.
When they found the identity of the last victim, her financials were easy. She had a car loan and that was it. There were no credit cards, and her bank account showed transactions for mostly food and clothing.
Neither of them doubted where that was going. Sister Mary Catherine was a saint. She was giving back her measly salary and sharing what she had in life.
“My eyes are killing me,” Briggs said, looking up. “Everything is beginning to blur together.”
“Yeah me too,” Brynn replied, rubbing her eyes. “Want me to order us some dinner?” she offered, knowing they were all working non-stop until they found the killer, even if it drove them into the ground.
“Yeah, I’d love dinner.”
Brynn stood and stretched. “What are you in the mood for, and please don’t say pizza. You need to eat something more than just cheese and grease.”
He laughed. “If I didn't know any better, I’d think you cared,” he teased, and then realized what he’d just said. “Sorry, I forgot there for a second.”
It was hard to miss the pain he was feeling. Brynn went to his side and touched his cheek. “It’s okay, Curtis. I understand.”
Nodding, he tried to focus back on the conversation they were having and not the woman touching his face. “I wish that place Greyson took the team to on Christmas delivered. They had some really great food. I think ‘Porter’s Place’ is my new favorite restaurant.”
Brynn was staring at him blankly.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, standing up and staring into her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll take you too next time,” he offered, thinking he offended her.
She stared at him. “Porter’s Place?”
Okay, the work was getting to her. She needed to crash for a little while. “Yeah, it’s over on Eighth Avenue.”
Brynn grabbed the papers and a highlighter, and began tearing through them. The detective was so focused that she didn't notice that he was staring at her like she had lost her mind.
“Curtis, I think I found it.”
He looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
She slid her chair towards him to show the young agent the credit card statements. “Look at Jessica Lester. She has multiple charges to her credit card for that place.”
“Well, she taught dance lessons right there, so maybe afterwards she picked up dinner.”
Brynn pulled up the next paper. “Trish Lorn, the second victim also has charges on her credit card.”
“Yeah, she lived close by and probably stopped in for takeout.”
Again, she moved to the third set of papers. “Mary Lou Harwell also ate there a few times.”
Briggs was beginning to see the pattern.
“They don’t deliver, so each of them had to walk into the establishment and either eat there or get their food to go.”
“Okay, but what about the rest. Can you connect it?” he asked, watching her carefully.
“The fifth victim, Melody Rafferty also has the charges on her credit card statement. She worked right there. It was easy to walk in, get dinner and go home.”
He was getting excited. “Not the other two victims though, right?”
She didn't have financials for Julia Montgomery. She was a grifter, living in a homeless shelter. “The pickpocket lived half a block from the restaurant.”
Briggs pulled up the arrest warra
nt for Tania Swan. “Guess where she got popped for prostitution?” he asked.
“Let me guess, Eighth Avenue?”
“Yep. She was strolling right in front of ‘Porter’s Place’. We had the right idea, but just the wrong place. It wasn’t the God’s Salvation Church that was the epicenter for this sicko’s hunting ground. It was the building half a block away.”
“You better call Emma and Greyson. We need to shift focus to that establishment and fast. I think we got him, Curtis!” she stated, enthusiastically.
When she jumped on him, giving him a hug and kiss, he wasn’t expecting it. It not only caught him off guard, it slashed at his heart.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry. I forgot too,” she said, horrified that she’s violated his space.
Briggs returned the solace she’d just offered him. “Thank you for forgetting.”
She nodded, smiling wistfully.
“I’ll call Croft. You do the run on ‘Porter’s Place’,” he said, grinning. “We’re about to make my boss’s day.”
Croft held tightly to his wife’s hand. That notify had to be one of the all-time lows of his life. He just had to tell twenty people that the woman who took care of them was dead.
Immediately, there was weeping and sobbing, as the question came up about their survival now.
Who was going to help them?
Where would they go?
What about the kids?
It broke his heart to see their already battered souls now getting the shit kicked out of them once more.
Deep down, he wished there was something he could do to help them through that moment. Yeah, they promised to build them a rec center, but that wouldn’t heal the person. It would only give them some time to forget.
He needed a long term solution.
Emma could tell her husband was greatly bothered by what he’d just had to do. The look on his face said it all, and so did the silence as they walked towards the Denali.
They’d questioned every single person in the shelter, and no one had seen Sister Mary Catherine leave the previous night. She had often disappeared a few times a day to pick up donations and gather supplies.
It had been a dead end.
Then, Emma saw him.
It was the little boy that Curtis had bought the candy for the other day. Releasing her husband’s hand, she moved towards him and his hiding spot beside the dumpster. He’d set up a little world of stick built homes and rock like structures. This was his own little world.
“Hi, I’m Emma. You know my friend Curtis. He likes to share candy,” she said, kneeling so he would be closer to her eye level.
“I like him. He gave us so much that we had it for a couple of days.”
Emma grinned at him. “I like him a lot too. He lives with my husband and I, and we hang out a lot.”
“Is he coming back?” Willie asked.
“Yes he is, and we’re going to build you a room with lots of toys and games for everyone to use.”
“That sounds like fun.”
Emma thought about it. “Do you play here a lot?”
“All the time. If I keep my buildings here, then no one accidentally knocks them down. They take a lot of work.”
Emma smiled at the child. He was very sweet. “I like them a lot. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”
The little boy looked up nervously as Croft approached him. “Is he Curtis’s friend too?”
She nodded as her husband got down to the little child’s level too. “I’m his partner. We both work for the FBI,” he said, taking out his badge to show him.
“Okay, then you can ask me questions. My mom said that cops will help us and to always be honest with them.”
Emma wanted to make sure not to upset him. “Did you see Sister Mary Catherine leave the last night? Were you playing here?”
He nodded.
“Did you recognize him?”
Again, he nodded.
Croft was getting excited. This was their first and only lead they had regarding the potential killer. He began praying the little boy had an amazing memory. Pulling some gum from his pocket, he offered it to Willie.
“Did you know who he is?”
There was another nod, as he took the gum and pulled out a stick.
“How do you know him?”
The little boy unwrapped it, and pondered the question. “He brings us food all the time.”
“Do you know his name?”
The little boy shook his head. “No. He doesn’t talk to us. We’re invisible. My mom said he’s got money, so we don’t matter.”
That made the ache in Greyson’s chest hurt even more.
“Do you have chocolate like Curtis?” Willie asked, standing up to stare into Emma’s eyes.
“No, but I can give you money because you answered all our questions, and you can buy lots of candy with it. How’s that?”
He grinned. “I like you too,” he said, as Emma pulled cash out of her back pocket, only to see her husband do the same thing. She folded the little wad up and handed it to him.
His eyes were big. “Thank you,” he said, getting ready to run off, and then deciding to give the pretty woman a hug. “I like you just as much as I like Curtis,” he said, running for the shelter.
Croft watched him go. “We can get a sketch artist that deals with kids down here right away.”
Emma nodded, her stomach all tied up in knots.
She didn't even have to say anything. No child should live a life of emptiness.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I promise that I’ll take care of it,” he said, squeezing her hand.
Before she could answer, his phone rang. “Croft,” he stated, waiting for his partner to tell him what he needed, as he put it on speaker.
“Greyson, we may have something,” Briggs yelled excitedly. “We were doing the financials and we found a common thread in almost all the women.”
Croft could use some good news. “Okay, spill it.”
“Porter’s Place,” he said, excitedly, and then began to break it down just like his boss expected. He didn't leave out any detail at all.
Emma could feel her heart pound, as he shared what they just learned too. Willie said the man brought them food. It was possible that they were donations from the restaurant. “We need you to start running the owner. Willie said he’s rich and drives a nice car. That likely eliminates most of the staff. Start with Richard Porter and go from there.”
“On it, boss.”
Croft figured his partner deserved some credit and a reward. “Bring the tablet and have Brynn drive. You can meet us at the restaurant.”
He could hear the glee bubbling up in his partner’s voice.
“Get here fast, Curtis!”
The phone went dead.
“That was nice of you, Director Croft,” she said, grinning. Her husband was one of the sweetest men she had ever known.
“Don’t tell I’m nice. It ruins my macho image at work,” he teased. “Okay, we’re going to casually walk into ‘Porter’s Place’ and if he’s there, get him out without a scene. We need to stay very calm.”
Emma understood. “So, what you’re saying is no shooting anyone.”
Croft stared at her as if she was crazy. “You’re kidding, right?”
She laughed. “You better text Paris and Tessa and have them meet us here too. They worked just as hard on this one.”
He whipped out a text, telling them as much as he could. When he sent it, he looked over. “Ready, Mrs. Croft?”
She nodded. “Let’s go, babe.”
Once inside, they found that Richard Porter was off on Tuesdays. Croft smiled and made an excuse as to why they were there. He left his card to make it look official and not tip anyone off.
Outside, he pulled out his tablet and flipped through the files. He needed to confirm that the first set of women were taken on and around Tuesday, as were the ones taken the same time Emma had gone missing last week. “It looks like he b
egan hunting on his day off, and escalated.”
“Just less of a chance that he can use work as an alibi,” Emma stated, watching as the Denalis pulled up. Her partner and Curtis were first out as they raced towards him.
“Is he here?” Briggs inquired, hoping that he didn't miss the fun while on the way there.
“No, but we’re all taking a little trip to his house. We’ll take one car,” he stated, striding towards his Denali.
They all followed behind, climbing in for the trip.
“I need his address,” Emma stated from the passenger seat. As Curtis read it off, she entered it into the GPS and hit start.
“Give me everything you have,” Croft demanded, following the instructions.
“Richard Porter is thirty nine years old. He dropped out of high school and received his GED. He tried a stint in the military, but was discharged for mental issues. He wasn’t fit for combat.”
Since Croft had served himself, he was well aware that the US military didn't hand that one out often.
That meant one thing.
The man had to be crackers.
“After returning home, he worked in a few restaurants until he saved up to open his own. It’s doing relatively well, and he makes a good deal of money. He’s not Greyson Croft successful, but he’s higher up the food chain than a special agent,” he stated, giving him a salary gauge.
“Okay. Tell me about family.”
“He’s from a single parent family. His mother was the sole childcare provider. There’s a listing for a brother, who also served in the military and is decorated with enough medals of valor to make Patton jealous.”
Paris interjected, “Want to bet that the mother played favorites with the other son? It was likely that he could do no wrong in her eyes.”
“No bets,” Croft answered.
Curtis continued, “The mother lives in Canada, is remarried and has another family.”
“That would piss a nut job off,” Brynn added. “Moving outside the country and starting a new life with more family that didn't include him.”
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 48
