Blacke and Blue

by Fiona Blackthorne

  “It all fits,” Trisha said, chewing her bottom lip. “Perk is a small man, physically, therefore he would use a blitz-style attack on the victim. It would also be part of why he chose small, physically weak women, as they would be easier to overcome.”

  She sighed and looked up, catching Ger’s gaze in the mirror. He felt his heart swell with a sweet ache as she gave him a quick, shy smile.

  “I owe you an explanation,” she said to him.

  “I’m curious,” he admitted. “But, you don’t owe me anything. You were doing your job.”

  “Let me tell you, though,” she replied. “The profile of this killer is a man who is defined by frustration, inadequacy, and a dysfunctional family life. He is a skilled woodsman, just like you, who knows how to find his way to and from dump sites in the deep woods. He works with his hands, like you, and either through work or hunting has experience with sharp tools and butchering. There would be no successful relationships with women, and certainly no long-term relationships.”

  She paused, and Ger felt slightly ill at the thought of just how close he was in so many ways to the profile of this killer. A flip of the coin, and it could have been him.

  “Please don’t take this next part the wrong way,” she said nervously. “But, the killer would also have an overbearing mother who was judgmental and extremely difficult to please. If there was a father in the family, he would be withdrawn and passive, and passive aggressive with the wife. If the killer had siblings, he would somehow be seen as the ‘disappointment,’ or not as good as his siblings.”

  Ger couldn’t turn around to look at Trisha while she was speaking. For both of them, he sensed, it would have been the wrong thing to do. Trisha needed to explain all of this without seeing the emotions she had to know she was stirring up in him, and he needed to hear the words clinically, objectively, without allowing any resentment to cloud his judgment. All that mattered now was that they were in this together, fighting together against a single threat to Blue Moon, and for that he needed a clear head and steady heart.

  “But, here’s what I don’t get,” Ian said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “There are tons of guys between Blue Moon and Elkville who could fit that description. Why Perk? Why not any of the suspect files we had already pulled?”

  “I looked through those,” Trisha replied. “The thing is, the guys you were pulling had previous convictions for rape, domestic violence, assault, and battery, and things like that. I was pretty sure this killer would not have a record like that. He might have had a couple of misdemeanors for window peeping and maybe shoplifting when he was younger, if that. Personally, though, I think that something happened back in November or December that was a trigger for Perk Hawkins. Something either changed dramatically or disrupted a major source of stability for him. That is when all this started.”

  It took every ounce of self-control Ger had not to slide a glance over to Ian, and he knew that Ian was feeling the same way. At the end of last November, Ava Bell-Barrows had broken the curse on Blue Moon that kept all the men who were werewolves basically prisoner within the town borders from nightfall to morning. Since then, the men of Blue Moon were cautiously learning to leave the town, but freedom itself was proving to be a challenge for many. He could only imagine how someone like Perk might see it.

  Yet, that didn’t explain why Perk, a werewolf just like him and a hundred others in town, would commit such heinous crimes.

  “So, here’s the thing that threw me off,” Trisha said after a pause. “This type of killer loves to insert himself into an investigation. He loves the sense of importance it gives him to be ‘pulling the wool’ over the eyes of the police. He needs the vicarious attention and will talk about the crimes and collect clippings and recordings. But, this is also where he may make the easiest mistake by revealing something he knew about the crime that only the killer and the police could have known…and you did seem to know exactly where the last dump site was, though I hoped maybe you had just tracked us or had seen the information on Ian’s desk or something.”

  Ger heard her fidget and shift in the backseat, and he focused on keeping his hands visible, still, and calm for her sake, to let her know he wasn’t upset with her.

  “At first,” she continued. “When Ger came into the station, I just thought he was flirting with me.”

  “I was,” Ger laughed. “I was all-out pursuing you.”

  “And, I thought it was just because you liked me,” she said with a quick laugh herself. “Plus, I kind of got off on the fact that you liking me seemed to piss Ian off.”

  “I knew you were out to get me, woman!” Ian sighed with mock severity.

  “Things got confusing for me the next morning when we were at the Boyer’s store,” she said. “I met Perk, and immediately, my Spidey-sense went crazy. But then, Ger came in, and Perk was clearly afraid of him for some reason…and Ger, you seemed to be angry at him for something.”

  “I had found him hanging around the parking lot of your motel the night before,” Ger said, glad to finally be able to get that secret off his chest, even if he couldn’t say that he had seen Perk in wolf form ready to strike at her.

  “I wish you had told me that.” Trisha sighed. “As it was, Perk saw my confusion and was able to turn it to his own purposes and try and get me focused on you as the prime suspect. The thing is, because you did fit so many of the criteria and the fact Ian is the sheriff, everything seemed to be falling into place. Perk played to that again this morning at the town meeting.”

  “Speaking of Perk,” Ian broke in. “We are just about at the shack.”

  “So, Perk was definitely the one who kidnapped you from the motel?” Ger asked, struggling to control the urge to shift to his wolf form so he could have the pleasure of clamping his jaws around Perk’s neck and snapping it. The thought of that evil bastard hurting his woman touched a chord of hazy red animal rage in him.

  “Yes,” Trisha said as Ian turned into the parking lot where police cruisers and an evidence van were on the scene still at the shack. “He thought I was closer than I was to catching him, and that drove him to a stupid, desperate move.”

  “What’s that?” Ger asked, dreading the answer.

  “He’s going for one more kill,” Trisha said matter-of-factly. “Tonight.”

  * * * *

  Ian helped Trisha out of the back of the SUV, trying not to relish too much the feeling of her in his arms, even for a brief moment. This was not the time to be thinking of pushing her back into the backseat and pulling down her jeans and…

  Chum. Bait. Crime scene. He forced himself to think of the most disgusting things possible to short-circuit the desire that Trisha stirred up in him. Maybe he was callous, or maybe it was a special kind of numbness that law enforcement people developed that enabled them to compartmentalize things like realizing they were crazy in love and at the same time hunting a fucking cannibal serial killer.

  The freezing cold wind and biting snow helped him calm down. He pulled the hood of Trisha’s parka up over her head and tucked her against his chest, shielding her somewhat from the wind as they made a run for the shack.

  Deputy Berendt opened the door for them, struggling to pull it shut against the wind.

  “Sir!” Deputy Harley spoke up. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” Ian replied, brushing snow off Trisha, ignoring her hands trying to chase him away from the task. “Bitch of a storm out there.”

  “You can say that again,” Deputy Berendt added. “Forensics is done for the moment here, sir. Didn’t take them long.”

  “Why not?” Trisha interrupted, her voice sharp.

  Ian narrowed his eyes as Berendt swallowed hard and turned red.

  “They, uh, weren’t exactly sure what they were looking for,” Berendt replied.

  “Deputy,” Trisha said quietly, and Ian winced inwardly for what was about to come but made no move to stop her. He liked having his balls. “Do you know who I am?”

 
; “Uh, yes?”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I mean, Agent Blacke.”

  “Do you know what I’m investigating?”

  “Uh, the…the Butcher of Bangor?”

  “Did it occur to you to inform forensics about this and suggest that they look for things like…human remains?”

  “Um, no?”

  “No, what?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Right,” Trisha huffed, turning away from the deputy who had begun to sweat despite the freezing temperatures in the shack. She locked her gaze on Deputy Harley, and Ian glanced over at Ger who was turning an odd shade of red with the effort of not laughing.

  “Deputy…Harley?” Trisha said. “Would you be so kind as to put in a call back to forensics and get them out here again ASAP, and perhaps suggest they come equipped to deal with a potential murder and dismemberment site?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” barked Deputy Harley, and Ian thought for sure the kid was having flashbacks to boot camp. “Just so you know, ma’am, they may be a while getting here. Hawkins said the roads were getting pretty thick already.”

  “Hawkins?” Trisha exclaimed. “Perk Hawkins?”

  Ian rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t want to hear what they were going to say next. He already knew, and he was feeling sick about it.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am,” Harley replied nervously.

  “How long ago was he here?” she demanded, moving further into the shack.

  “About an hour, ma’am.”

  “Did he take anything with him?”

  “Just some tools. The regular stuff he said he needed. Said he figured he might not be able to use the shack in the morning, so a friend of his said he could make bait over at his shack so he needed his stuff.”

  Ian’s head hurt, but not from trying to follow all the pronouns, from the utter stupidity of his deputies.

  “You let a suspect enter a crime scene?” he snapped. “What the fuck? I know they teach fuck-all in the academy, but shit, you guys work for me. You should know better than that by now. Civilians don’t get access to a crime scene. Ever. Ever!”

  “But, chief,” Berendt pleaded. “It was just Perk!”

  He heard Trisha mutter mutinously, “It was just Perk,” under her breath and saw Ger move to pacify her.

  “Besides, chief,” Harley added, “Ger’s here. He’s civvie.”

  “He’s a material witness,” Trisha snarled, grabbing a flashlight and beginning to investigate the shelves along the back wall. “And, you haven’t called forensics yet.”

  “What are you looking for?” Ian asked, moving to Trisha’s side.

  “Missing tools,” she replied. “Things used for chopping, filleting, sawing, butchering. Maybe not his everyday tools. Those are too easily checked. These would be clean but tucked away in back of something. Hiding in plain sight in a way.”

  “You don’t need much more than a big meat cleaver to make bait,” Ger said absently, moving toward the large chest freezer.

  “Which means whatever is missing is even more likely to be either the murder weapon or part of what he uses for the dismemberment,” Trisha replied. “If he went to the trouble of coming here to get the equipment, his ritual equipment, then we know for sure he’s on the hunt tonight.”

  “He’s gotta know we are after him by now,” Ian said, checking the cabinets under the counter, flashing his light into the jumbled, oily cardboard boxes full of old, rusting fishing tackle.

  “Of course he does,” Trisha huffed, going up on her tiptoes to check a corner of the next level of shelves. “But taking the tools makes the difference between running and going on a possible last spree.”

  “Hey, Harley?” Ger called out after taking a quick look in the freezer chest.

  “Spree?” Ian exclaimed. “You think he could go after more than one victim?”

  “Harley?” Ger repeated louder. “When you get forensics, tell them to make sure to test the bait in the freezer chest.”

  “Test it for what?” Harley asked.

  Ger took a deep breath.

  “Human remains.”

  Chapter 20

  “Let me see!” Trisha demanded, moving over to Ger.

  “No,” he said, turning and trapping her in his arms. “You don’t want to see this.”

  She counted to five, making it to four. “Ger, I do this shit for a living. You can’t shield me from anything I haven’t already seen.”

  Ger looked down at her, and she thought he had the oddest expression on his face. It was disgusted and fearful, but more like he was afraid of her. She tried to freeze her heart against the melt that threatened with this man looking at her pleadingly.

  She was just about to insist gently but firmly when Ian exclaimed, “Shit!”

  Instantly, she wheeled around and went over to him.

  “Perk doesn’t dust,” Ian said grimly, shining the flashlight on the back of a shelf where imprints of several types of knives, small saws, and other implements were outlined in gray, greasy dust.

  Trisha bit her lip painfully, feeling the sting of her teeth and the burning of her chapped lips. Her mind was frantically assessing everything, trying to predict the next move.

  “He’s hunting,” she said finally. “He has an hour’s start on us, but the snow will slow him down somewhat. Also, the snow means that there won’t be as many potential victims as easily available. He might have to break his pattern to find someone, maybe going to a bar or a motel.”

  “I’ll put the alert out for him to the state and Waterville, Orono, and Bangor areas,” Ian said. “He can’t have made it as far as Augusta. They’ll check the roads and the usual places that are still open, like some of the bars.”

  “Concentrate on Elkville and Blue Moon,” Trisha corrected. “He’s short on time. He’s going to stay local, even if it means doing something risky in terms of catching his victim.”

  She noticed Ger was fidgeting and frowning, looking at Ian impatiently. Ian returned his look and nodded.

  “We’ll be right back,” Ian said to Trisha before walking back out into the storm with Ger.

  What the fuck was that all about? She would have bet a month’s vacation that they were still holding out on her with some key piece of information, and the thought hurt. Just when she was starting to believe they were all on the same page and trusting each other, Ian and Ger shut her out.

  “Stay here,” she said to the deputies and cautiously slipped out the door to follow Ian and Ger.

  It wasn’t hard to stay disguised in the snowstorm. She had trouble herself even finding her way toward Ian’s SUV. Still, she stayed behind the deputies’ vehicles, slowly creeping as close as she could.

  “Is it secure?” Ger asked. “Last time, it fell off.”

  “It’s not gonna fall off,” Ian replied. “What are you going to do if you find him?”

  “We’ll take care of him.”

  “You know I don’t normally interfere in your business, but this time, I just don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it. Think we do? It just has to be done. There’s no other way.”

  “You’re sure you can find him? You got the scent?”

  “It’s all over him. You can’t miss it. I kept wondering what it was, but now that I smelled that bait, I could find him anywhere. Damn, I can’t believe he sold that shit!”

  She heard Ian’s teeth-chattering chuckle. “Someone in Boston is eating a little more than lobster!”

  Ger gave a short laugh. “I’ll track him from here. Where are you guys gonna be?”

  “Waiting for him at his house,” Trisha replied loudly, standing up from her hiding place, leaning into the wind and stalking over to them.

  “Wanna clue me in, guys?” she snapped, trying to pretend the tears in her eyes were from the cold.

  She felt a grim kind of satisfaction when both of them spun around and stared at her, aghast. She hugged herself tight against the wind and s
nuggled down into her coat, fighting to stand her ground against the storm.

  Ian looked at Ger, raising his eyebrows, indicating this was Ger’s call. This infuriated Trisha, and on top of being angry at herself for failing to realize earlier Perk was the killer, her composure finally broke.

  “What the hell?” she yelled. “I thought we were done with this hiding-shit-from-Trisha shit! This is a manhunt. Someone’s life might be at stake here. We don’t have time for secrets. Either we all work together, or you might as well get some parsley and watercress ready for garnishing Perk’s platter of human roast! You told me I could trust you, and I did. But, you clearly don’t trust me. None of this is going to work—catching Perk, us, whatever—if you don’t fucking come clean with me and keep it that way!”

  She watched Ger’s face as she delivered her tirade, and the cold, calm expression that settled like a mask over his features chilled her more than a hundred snowstorms ever could. He came toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off violently.

  “Don’t patronize me!” she ground out.

  Ger grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her off her feet, smashing his mouth against hers in a kiss that began with fire and ended in longing. She hadn’t even realized she had wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself into his body. She hadn’t noticed that he held her by her waist and was digging his fingers into her hair. His kisses wandered from her lips to her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, and forehead.

  Finally, he gently put her from him and stepped back, his eyes glittering in the odd reflected light of headlights and streetlights on the snow.

  “When I see you again,” Ger said. “I will tell you everything. And then, the choice will be yours. Trust me one last time?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she whispered, feeling like he was trying to say good-bye more than anything.

  “You always have had the choice, Trisha Blacke,” Ger said simply. “My heart has been yours from the beginning. I have to go now.”