by Hadena James
Christian Hunter was technically still alive, but that was a temporary state of being. He had a long list of enemies both outside prison and inside of the Fortress. If my brother hadn’t been taken into protective custody, Hunter would already be dead. So far, he’d proved uncooperative. That limited the number of reasons he deserved to live.
My trip to El Paso had been a bust. We hadn’t arrested Harley Pierce, for now. He could remain free as long as he pretended we hadn’t visited and he didn’t kill anyone. He was very aware of the terms of his freedom. I was sure he would keep his end of the deal. I knew he never wanted to see Malachi or me again. I couldn’t blame him for this, we were not exactly nice people, even by serial killer standards.
“Well?” Gabriel asked as he pulled away from the curb of Harley Pierce’s house.
“Well, I guess I go home and wait for this suspension to be lifted.” I didn’t look at him. I was a little pissed off that he had brought Malachi after I told him not to. It had proved useful. I tried not to torture people and Gabriel wasn’t like us.
“I think a few of us could stand to be in Kansas City,” Malachi chimed in from the back seat. He was sitting sideways because he had very long legs, but I refused to sit in the back just because he was there.
“Think we should nab some of the killers working there?” I asked.
“Cleaning up our city might not be a bad thing,” Gabriel shot me a sideways look. “Think you can handle helping with training?”
“Sociopath. Not people friendly. Not really leader material. I mostly just beat serial killers up after breaking down their doors.” I told him.
“You did fine in Detroit.” Gabriel answered.
“And in The Fortress,” Malachi agreed.
“Also, I think Rachael would be more comfortable with you on her first case than with the rest of us. You, Fiona, Rachael, Xavier, and Caleb,” Gabriel told me.
I gave a small growl. I hadn’t actually met Rachael. Her file was mostly redacted, much like Vlad Daniels’ files, which meant she was some sort of bad ass with an alphabet agency that was more secretive the FBI. Gabriel and Malachi had top secret clearance and knew what it said. The rest of us were a little lower on the totem pole, so we only knew what they told us. Leading a unit was not my idea of a good time, but it would mean an early release from my suspension. I could work and I really loved my job, possibly a little too much. Plus, I agreed with Gabriel and Malachi, we needed to clean up our own city before we could be seen as effective again. They were busy with a cannibal in California.
“Giving me Rachael is trial by fire,” I told them. “You know how I am with new people. Give me Xavier, Caleb, and Vlad. You guys keep the others.”
“Rachael needs a little trial by fire,” Gabriel told me. “Besides, Fiona and Caleb can act as handlers if you need it.”
That was true. Caleb had helped calm me down a few times in the past. He’d also Tasered me once when I wouldn’t. Fiona could usually talk me down. If that failed, Caleb was used to controlling Malachi.
“Fine,” I answered.
“Take the Cleaner first,” Gabriel said as Malachi pulled out some files. “No help from special friends on these.”
“He’s busy trying to figure out how high this thing goes,” I answered. “He needs it solved as much as we do. There are a handful of people who know his real identity. He needs to make sure they can’t come after him just as much as we do.”
“People like,” Gabriel didn’t finish his sentence. My mother knew who he was. Once upon a time, I had thought my mom was just a librarian. Now, I knew she was either CIA or NSA, I wasn’t sure which. She’d spent time in the Department of Justice trying to help build the foundation for the SCTU. She’d helped place a few strategic assets like Apex in this world. She had met my dad at a special seminar on serial killers in the 1950s, before the rise of the serial killer. In the late 1970s, she’d become a librarian so that she could be home with her children more and then I came along. The woman had known Lucas and Xavier’s families. My family was full of secrets, most of them dark, violent, and bloody.
“The Cleaner is the one that’s been leaving bone piles around the city, right?” I asked, acquiescing to the request. I could either do what I was asked or spend a few more weeks trying to figure out what to do with my house. Since I was about as likely to go furniture shopping as I was to take up nude sunbathing, work was the much better option.
“Yep,” Malachi handed me his tablet and I handed it back. I couldn’t read in a car. I had trouble reading in an airplane.
“I’ll hope a commercial flight this afternoon,” I told them.
“You get to take one of our planes back. Malachi and I will return to California and then send team members to you. Expect them tomorrow,” Gabriel said. “Do I need to tell you that he cannot be on one of our planes?”
“We have a working relationship, nothing more. We need to take out the heads of this circle and so does he. Once that stops being a mutual goal, we’ll go our separate ways and I will not be using him for official SCTU business.” I continued to stare out the window.
“My concern is for you,” Gabriel pointed out. “I do not want you in trouble or worse. He can only be trusted so far.”
“I think that’s true of most people,” I finally turned and looked at him. “One day, soon, you and I are going to have to have a chat about who you trust.”
“You’re talking about Turkish Jack,” Gabriel’s lower lip quivered.
“It doesn’t stop there,” I told him.
“You’re right, we need to talk,” Gabriel answered and we both dropped the matter. I wasn’t going to rake Gabriel over the coals with Malachi in the car. In reality, I wasn’t going to rake him over them regardless. Gabriel had seen some scary men in his life. Like me, it had started with his childhood. I didn’t know why he wasn’t a sociopath or a psychopath or suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but he seemed to cope fairly well. Then again, he did imagine that he had been attacked by a Native American demon, so maybe coping was the wrong word.
At the airport, we went our separate ways. I boarded our plane alone and with more luggage than I had come to El Paso with. Eventually, I’d be back for Harley Pierce and maybe a few others that jumped the border to kill. The drug cartels were too afraid to work out of Juarez at this point, so crime had dropped, making the city safer. Unless you were in the victim pool of a serial killer, then it was just as dangerous as ever.
My disgust and understanding of those that preyed on the average person had increased in recent months. However, it had made me realized that I would never be like them. If one day, I lost it and started killing, I would be preying upon the killers, not the populace. Their sense of entitlement and narcissism was too much for me anymore. I had spent too much time trying to save people like my mom and Nyleena from them. My bloodlust had become a little harder to control in the presence of people like Harley Pierce.
Xavier had found a chemical compound in Malachi and I’s blood after the Fortress. Once it was gone, Malachi’s psychopathology had balanced out some as had my own. We’d been dosed. The entire FGN had been dosed, it had literally been in the water. Most people had not felt any different on it. People like Malachi, Caleb, and I, we had. It had done something to the chemistry of our brains that made us unstable. Xavier was still working to track down a manufacturer for it, but he had to do it very quietly. Patience was one of the many virtues I was lacking.
Five
Our new headquarters was located in the FGN in the basement of the FGA, which had been rebuilt in the dead center of the neighborhood and had sniper perches along with some other really special stuff. Fiona and I stood outside the doors to our conference room. She stopped me before I could walk in.
“What?” I asked.
“May I see your Taser?” She asked. I raised an eyebrow, but gave it to her. She tucked it into her utility belt.
“Hey, I may need that!” I protested.
&n
bsp; “You don’t like change. You don’t like people. You especially don’t like new people. You have some anger issues. You annoy easily. God forbid someone ask you a question. And Malachi is not on the other side for you to take your irritation out on. It’s better if I hold onto it for now.” Fiona told me.
“Here,” I handed her my custom made baton and my gun. “You make a good point.”
“I’ve been on the other end. Most of us are used to you, but there is no reason for you to expose Rachael to all you at one time.”
“What’s she like?”
“Well,” Fiona pursed her lips. “She’s good with a gun. She can also be nice and she’s perky. I think you will initially hate her with every fiber of your being.”
“There’s nothing wrong with nice people as long as they realize it isn’t a nice world they live in.”
“Yes, but you hate perky, all the time, it’s just worse before noon. I’d say you aren’t a morning person, but that would require you to sleep more than a few hours a night.”
“Sadly, she sounds like Malachi’s type. He likes perky.”
“No, Malachi likes female and I’m not convinced that is a strict requirement.”
“You think he’s bisexual?” I asked.
“No, I think he’s Malachi and everything is about power, control, mind games, and being superior.” Fiona answered.
“On that, we agree, completely.” I said as Fiona opened the door for me. I went in because I had gotten used to her being nice and polite.
Caleb and Xavier were throwing a crumbled piece of paper between them, like a ball. At least it wasn’t a hand grenade. Rachael was sitting completely still. Her eyebrows drawn together. The corners of her mouth were turned down ever so slightly. Even I could see she was annoyed. She was cute. That would be an issue for Malachi. There were very few women he meet that he didn’t have sex with.
Remembering what Fiona had just said, I tried not to frown. It was much harder than I anticipated. I’d been in the room two seconds and wanted my Taser. First, to get Caleb and Xavier to knock it off and second, to prove to Rachael that there were worse things that two guys acting like teenagers. Which was the exact reason Fiona had taken it from me. She earned points for knowing me that well and lost all of them because I didn’t have it.
“Done?” I asked the guys. They both turned to look at me and the paper ball hit Rachael in the head. For just a moment, she sneered. We were either going to get along just fine or need to be separated so I didn’t kill her. Fiona was right, I was not people friendly. “Our first case is The Cleaner. Stupid name for a serial killer.” I said this second part with my own sneer. I hated when the press nicknamed serial killers. They were rarely creative about it.
“Are you really in charge?” Xavier asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Seriously?” Xavier made a face.
“Yes.” I gave him a look.
“It’s just that I have never been put in charge and I’ve been here longer and I’m nicer. It’s almost insulting.”
“Take that up with Gabriel.” I told him.
“Oh no, I know exactly why I’m not in charge of any team you’re on,” Xavier answered.
“Is there a point to this?” I asked him.
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I think I was just wondering out loud over the state of our positions.”
“I took her Taser,” Fiona told him.
“Ah, that explains why she walked in looking grumpy,” Xavier answered.
“Great, now let’s talk serial killers,” I told him.
“He keeps the bodies for about a month before he dumps what’s left in a public place, skull on top and he does a surprisingly good job of attaching the lower jaw to it before placing it there. Uses a very thin wire and superglues in any teeth that fall out. No real tool marks are evident, so he isn’t cutting the flesh off. I’ll need to actually see more than pictures to get a better understanding. Whatever it is, the guy is spending time with these projects, so we can rule out him living in an apartment, unless it’s in Hell. That is the only place a body could rot and no one notice.” Xavier stopped for a moment. “Or the Russian district, it might not be out of place there.”
“I think we can rule out Russians,” Caleb gave me a sideways glance. I ignored it and all its implications. The Russians were currently patrolling their own killers after the things that had gone down in the Fortress and at the Daniels’ house.
“No gender preference, but all the victims are white, so it’s safe to say it’s a white male who isn’t sexually motivated by it.” Rachael added. I didn’t point out that almost eighty-five percent of serial killers were white males. It seemed like a waste of energy, she’d learn.
“He’s good at it,” Caleb joined the discussion. “He’s very good at it. These bone piles are not his first kills, they aren’t even his first dozen. His technique was perfected long before he started leaving them to be found. He’s also accelerated. The first pile was found nearly six months before the second, now we are getting two or three a month and know he’s killed at least thirty. Some of the others are new to the area, but not this guy.”
“He’s not on the dark web chatter.” Fiona added absently. “However, that doesn’t mean he isn’t leaving a digital footprint. He’s been on the news and has a fan site. There’s one member that seems to be actively trying to connect with him. We’re monitoring his machine.”
“Serial killer groupie?” I asked.
“Yes,” Fiona answered. I sighed. “We should be getting a new stack of bones any day now. Until then, Xavier see what you can figure out about the other ones. Rachael, I’ve been told you are an expert in several things, including investigative techniques. You and Caleb get to go through all the physical evidence the police have collected. Fiona, get me an address for the groupie.” I never sat down. “The sooner he leaves another body, the sooner we catch him. He seems to prefer leaving the skeletons in a couple of specific parks. I think we should probably stake them out tonight.”
“You hate stake outs,” Xavier said.
“I know, but I don’t seem to be doing anything else tonight.” I told him. The truth was, I was still not an investigator. If Xavier or Caleb and Rachael could come up with a few pieces of information, I could put myself into his head and figure out what and how he was doing it. Sometimes that even lead us to a location or narrowed down the search. Because that was the only other thing I was really good at besides kicking down doors and beating psychopaths up, I could think like one without any problems.
“Okay,” Caleb stood up.
“Go forth and be productive. I hate waiting.” I reminded him. He flashed me a quick smile. Everyone but Fiona left.
“You really want to go talk to a serial killer groupie?” She asked.
“Nope, but I can’t think of a single thing to do other than that. Xavier’s great, but he needs fresh bones, not ones that have sat in a freezer for a week or wherever they keep skeletons. And I have never understood what you do.” I looked at her. “Don’t worry, I didn’t understand it when Michael did it either.” I looked at her for a moment. “I do have a geographical profile for a less prolific and interesting serial killer if you want to work some magic on it. We could probably have him in custody by dinner. If we do, I’ll buy.”
“You really hate to investigate, don’t you?”
“It is pure torture. I am not the investigative type. I am more of the get the bad guy and beat his brains out type.”
“Sure you are,” Fiona took her laptop out and started entering information as I spoke.
My down time hadn’t been completely spent chasing down people with Apex. I’d done some checking on stuff here in Kansas City. I was very familiar with our bone cleaner. He was meticulous and precise. He always ensured we could identify the victim using dental X-rays and distinguishing bone features, like previous breaks or deformities. Cleaning bone is difficult, I had researched how to do it and there weren’t
a lot of great methods for it.
Whistle
The farm was about more than just the insects in the barn. There was corn and soy beans to be planted in less than a month. The weather was still cold, but it was above freezing. It was time to start disking the soil and preparing it for the planting. Finally, there was a field for just growing grass to be cut down for hay. Some years, it was the most important crop Keirnan grew.
Several chickens clucked noisily from their spacious pen. They weren’t free range, because that was nearly impossible, even out here, but his birds were yarded. They had a large enclosure of nearly 6,000 square feet to roam around in that was actual grass with trees and shrubs, unlike some places. Their yard was bigger than the majority of houses people lived in. With that much room, there was no need to de-beak his chickens as cannibalism wasn’t a problem. He also didn’t have issues with roosters busting up eggs because he had multiple coops and open air shelters for the chickens to nest in.
Then there was the goats. He had about forty of them. Most of them females. He sold goat’s milk in wholesale quantities to boutique shops that wanted to make their own soaps, lotions, and whatever else they made out of goat’s milk. He also had about three dozen customers that bought the milk to drink or turn into butter. It was more expensive than cow’s milk, but if you had a dairy allergy or was lactose intolerant, it was almost as good. He wasn’t sure why people who were lactose intolerant could drink goat’s milk, it did still have lactose in it, but they could and he was happy to oblige them.
