by ML Guida
Tom scowled. “You’re making it sound like his prints are from outer space. That’s ridiculous.”
“Run it again,” the captain growled. “I want to know who the hell this guy is before another a woman is murdered.”
Based on her ability, Agnes couldn’t believe Anonghos was a murderer. He definitely wasn’t innocent, but he sure as hell wasn’t a killer. However, the captain wanted facts. Facts she didn’t have.
Tom sighed and put the paper on the table. “We should have put a tail on Hoss. He might lead us to the unsub.” He gave Agnes a cool look. “Or at least we’d catch him trying to slice his next victim’s throat.”
Agnes rolled her eyes, but kept her mouth zipped. Ever since Frank went to Quantico, Tom insisted that they use the term unsub for an unknown subject.
The captain shook his head. “Kathy would have my balls for breakfast. She’ll accuse us of harassment and violating her client’s rights. We need more to go on.” Both he and Tom had been friends until they both took the police captain exam. Tom had failed the orals, while the captain had passed with flying colors.
Agnes was too tired to play peacemaker between the two. “As long as we’re doing things by the book, Kathy won’t come down on us.”
“I know she’s your friend,” the captain said, “but she can be a real pain-in-the-ass.”
As long as Agnes had known her, Kathy was always the champion for the underdog, and she was a pit bull if she thought there was an injustice. In kindergarten, Agnes had been her first client. Not wanting to argue with her scowling captain, she asked, “Is it true the mayor is wanting a task force?”
“Women are calling him terrified, and the damn press is saying Arvada has a serial killer.”
“Maybe we do.” Agnes’s stomach flipped over as she glanced at the bloody crime photos. No one should have to die such a violent death.
The captain glared. “It’s imperative you don’t rattle that off to the press.”
“I’m not a rookie, Captain. I know the proper protocol. It’s just so damn frustrating, because we don’t have any leads. No fingerprints. No fibers. No hairs. Nothing that will lead us to the unsub.”
“We do know something,” Tom said gravely. “He’s not going to stop. We can warn women to lock their doors, to be aware of their surroundings, and not go anywhere by themselves at night, especially walk to their cars alone.”
“We don’t know for sure,” the captain said, “but I’m afraid you’re right.”
Agnes’s heart hurt. She knew without a doubt there would be another murder. Maybe tonight.
Hoss was the key to the mystery. She had to find him. There was something different about him. He might not be the killer, but he knew something. He was holding crucial details back. “I’d like to ask Hoss a few more questions.”
Tom frowned. “Hoss?”
“Anonghos. He prefers to be called Hoss.”
Tom snorted. “How?” He raised his hands. “We don’t even know where he lives. The address he gave us was a phony one.”
“Since he was obsessed talking with me earlier, maybe if I go someplace alone, he’ll follow me.”
“To your house?” Tom gave her a sharp look. “Without police protection, he could kill you.”
“I’m not an idiot. I’ll go to a public place. By the way, I’m not defenseless. I can take care of myself.”
“This man is sadistic,” Tom warned. “You could find yourself with your throat slit.”
“I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “The killer is sadistic. That doesn’t mean Hoss is.”
The captain gave her a hard look that reminded her of her doubting father’s. “Nevertheless, you need to be careful. You’re not basing this on your so-called psychic abilities, are you?”
“No.” She sat straighter in her chair. “I’m basing this on good police work.”
“Captain, you’re not seriously considering letting her do this. She’s got no experience being a decoy. She could get her damn self killed.”
“I can take care of myself, Tom,” she snapped.
The captain ran his hand over his cue-ball head. “Do you have any other ideas?”
“No,” Tom said glumly. “So, what do we do now?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I think he’ll find me.”
Tom’s cheek quivered. “You’re taking a big chance, Agnes.”
“Maybe. But I can’t sit around and do nothing.”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to be doing if you’re a decoy, Detective,” Tom smirked.
A gush of heat swished over Agnes like a hot shower. “Okay, fine. But someone is going to die tonight.”
“You don’t know that,” the captain said, but his worried eyes told a different story.
She tilted her chin. “Yes, I do.”
The captain frowned. “You just got through telling me you’re not basing this on being a psychic. You’re testing my patience.”
“Don’t worry,” she blurted. “I have great cop instincts.”
Tom snorted in disgust, and Matt pretended to be studying the report that he’d obviously read forty-two times.
He glared. “Agnes, you have this position, because you’ve proven yourself to be a good investigator–not a damn nut job.”
“I know,” she said softly. His condemning voice echoed her father’s and brother’s. He brought back all his disbarring remarks that had tugged at her heart. She forced her face to be hard, pushing back the hurt.
Tom and the captain glanced at each other. She hated that look. It was the you’re-a-crazy psychic look. Her biggest mistake was not requesting a different partner, but then again, her brother was a legend.
She wasn’t sure if there was a detective who didn’t look at her like she was Madame Weirdo. Sometimes she heard the snickers behind her back. It was hard being a curvy detective in an all-male unit, but adding nutty psychic made it eight times worse.
“Think positive, Malloy.” The captain stood. “Don’t disappoint me, just get me the facts. Feelings don’t have any place here.”
She winced.
Tom tapped her elbow with the tip of his pen. “He’s just worried. Doesn’t want to end up writing traffic tickets if this all goes sour. So, what do we now, Nostradamus?”
She forced herself not to react. “We go along like everything is normal…As normal as you can be with Jack the Ripper hunting for sport in Arvada.”
Her voice sounded surprisingly normal, hiding the anger seething inside her heart.
He seized her wrist. “What do you mean by normal?”
She jerked free. “Tom, don’t give me that crap. Even you’ve used guesswork to solve cases.”
Her voice trembled with fury.
He put his hands up. “Calm down, woman. I didn’t mean to get your dander up.” He shoved his hands underneath the table, as if he was struggling not to wring her neck for doing something stupid. “Just to be safe, I’ll have an unmarked car outside your house.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Hoss is too smart for that. I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll keep in constant contact with you, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Honestly?”
She saluted him with two fingers. “Absolutely.” She put her hand down and touched his arm. “Seriously, I don’t believe he plans to hurt me.”
“Why do you think this?”
Agnes hesitated. “Because I think I have seen him hiding in the parking lot once and last night at dinner.”
“And you didn’t report this?”
She winced. “I wasn’t sure, Tom. You said you wanted facts.”
He sighed and shook his head as if he was a disappointed Detective Joe Friday.
“Look.” She put both her hands on the table. “I didn’t say anything at the restaurant, because I wasn’t sure. He was outside, hiding in the shadows.” She tilted her head. “He did the same thing in the police parking lot. You’ve made it perfectly clear I needed concrete evidence. So I’m
following both yours and the captain’s orders, Capisci?”
“It’s your funeral,” he mumbled underneath his breath. “Are you going to leave now?”
“I told you that everything needs to be normal. On a case like this, I’d only go home to grab a bite to eat, then catch a few hours of sleep.”
“Suit yourself. At least now it’s broad daylight, and you’d have a fighting chance to see this guy.”
“I told you I’ll be fine.” She just hoped she wasn’t lying to herself. “I need some coffee.”
“Lead coffee?”
“No, I thought I’d just run over to Starbucks. I need some time to think. Do you want anything?”
He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Sure. Get me a latte.”
“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it.”
Tom went over and looked up at the bulletin board that had both victim’s pictures. Underneath the pictures was the occupation of each victim, and a list of activities they’d each done that day, but they’d nothing in common. Next to the bulletin board was a map of Arvada with a pin, locating where their bodies had been found. Unfortunately, they weren’t even close together. Two didn’t make a pattern.
But this killer wasn’t done yet. If they didn’t catch him soon, they’d have a pattern.
She closed the door and headed for her routine of getting her addiction. In the middle of a case, she needed some quick caffeine and drinking the department’s tar coffee made her stomach uneasy.
She kept going over the murders and Hoss in her mind as she drove to the nearest Starbucks. Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the number and winced. It was her brother Frank. Damn, Tom must have called him.
She thought about not answering, but her brother would be persistent like he was in everything he did.
“Hello, Frank.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her gut curdled at his angry voice. “So, Tom called you.”
“Obviously. Look sis, you’ve just made detective. You’re not ready for this.”
She frowned. “How would you know? The captain must think otherwise.”
“Morgan made a mistake in promoting you this fast.”
“Thanks for your support.”
“This isn’t a game. Your mumbo jumbo isn’t going to help you deal with a serial killer.”
“I know what I’m doing, Frank.”
“Yeah, getting yourself killed.”
“Good-bye, Frank.”
“Agnes, wait–”
But she didn’t. She hung up and shoved the phone back into her purse. She’d heard enough of his lectures and putdowns for a life-time. Ever since Dad died, Frank had taken over his job of trying to mold her into what they both thought she should be––a meter maid. Meter maids had no need to use psychic abilities.
Luckily, Captain Morgan saw something different in her. Something she could never repay him for.
There was a long line in the drive through, and she didn’t feel like sitting in her Ford Focus. She got out and headed inside.
The smell of roasting coffee, cinnamon, and steaming milk greeted her as she walked inside. Only a few people were ahead of her, and she smiled. People always thought the drive-through was faster, but she’d found that this wasn’t always true. She studied the yummy pastries lined up in the glass. Going home to make dinner was out of the question, and she was torn from a piece of banana bread or a blueberry scone when she caught the smell of a smoldering fire behind her.
Chills glossed over the back of her neck. She froze, cursing herself for not being more alert.
“Hello, Detective Malloy,” a husky voice said behind her.
Agnes tried to remain calm, but her heart ignited into a fierce drum roll. Her breath snagged in her lungs. She slowly turned to look into those mesmerizing tiger’s eyes that sent tingles down her back. Her gaze shifted to his broad chest, the long muscular arms, the strong, square-tipped hands that would have the power to easily over-power the helpless victims and savagely murder them. He could easily seduce them with his handsome looks and a lethal potency that they wouldn’t be able to resist coming under his spell, leading them to their gruesome deaths.
But she could resist. She was under no fainthearted delusions of the capabilities a serial killer possessed. Ted Bundy had been a clean-cut handsome man that had fooled his victims. Despite Hoss’s devilish handsomeness, she wasn’t a rookie. She called upon her fiercest policewoman voice. “Are you following me?”
He shrugged. “Obviously.”
She raised her eyebrow. “You’ve been waiting outside the police station for me?”
“I think that’s evident.”
“Your attorney won’t be pleased.”
“You don’t like her?”
“Actually, Kathy’s one of my best friends. We’ve known each other since grade school, but at work, she’s all business.”
“Interesting.”
She frowned, wondering why their surveillance cameras hadn’t alerted them to his presence. He’d be hard to miss. Not only was he extremely tall, but his handsome looks would stop any woman in her tracks.
“What do you want?”
“To talk to you.” He looked around. “This is a public place. You’re safe… For now.”
“For now?” Instincts told her not to panic and be aware of her surroundings. She carefully moved her hand across her jacket to caress the butt of her revolver. She scanned the café––three people behind the counter, nine inside.
“I told you. You’re in danger.”
One man sat on a stool that faced the window, drinking his coffee and reading a newspaper. He’d had a bright flowered bag with tissue paper as if it was someone’s birthday. He was a broad shouldered man, and definitely appeared to have the strength to kill those women.
“Is your partner by the window?”
“The killer’s not my partner, and no, I’ve never seen that man before.”
“Ma’am, what can I get started for you?”
A perky saleswoman with her hair pulled back and a bright smile waited for her order.
If she didn’t get back with Tom’s order, he’d worry, but she had a chance to prove herself. “I’ll have a non-fat coffee latte.”
“And you sir?”
“I’ll have a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll get it.” Agnes pulled out her wallet.
“I don’t usually let women pay for anything–”
“But you have no money?”
His cheeks actually flared red. “Yes.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She quickly paid. “Follow me.” She chose a table and slid into the chair, her back facing the wall.
He sat opposite of her, but based on his large size, he blocked out her view of the café, which was not a good thing. His partner could slip inside without her knowing it.
He took a sip of the coffee.
She twirled her cup around in her hands. “So, you’ve been following me. Talk.”
“The man you’re hunting is extremely dangerous.”
“I know this.”
“No, you don’t understand. It’s not just the killing, but it’s the terror.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’ve dealt with his kind before.”
She frowned. “What do you mean his kind? Is he part of a gang? I’ve always suspected the unsub was a loner.”
“He is. He’s a mercenary.”
Every muscle tensed inside her. “Are you suggesting terrorists are involved?”
“Not like you think.” His eyes widened, and he studied the paper cup. “This is actually really good.”
“Don’t play games with me, Anonghos. I need to know who and what is involved in this.”
He put his coffee down and then leaned back in his chair. “Call me Hoss. How open minded are you?”
His tone was low and hesitant.
“What do you mean? I don’t like games.”
“T
his isn’t a game. Unfortunately, it’s very real. This man you’re hunting isn’t a man. He’s not from your world.”
“Jeez,” she muttered. She had thought Hoss may have been many different things, but bug-eyed crazy wasn’t one of them.
“You don’t believe me.” He took another a sip of coffee, as if her disdain didn’t worry him.
“No, I don’t. Are you supposed to be taking medication?”
His lips turned up into a sexy smile. “I’m not crazy. I can prove it.”
“Excuse me?” The same perky barrister that had taken their order approached them with the flowered bag Agnes had seen earlier. She glanced at the window where the man had been sitting. He was gone, but he’d left his newspaper.
“A man asked me to give this to you.” She handed it to Hoss. “He said it was a surprise.”
Hoss slowly took the bag. “Thank you.”
Agnes folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you said you didn’t know him.”
His eyes locked with hers.
“I don’t. I’ve never seen him before.”
His hard voice made her uneasy.
Something transparent flickered out of the corner of Agnes’s eye, and she groaned inwardly.
Not here.
Not now.
She drew on her ability to push the vision out of her mind, but the spirit pushed back hard. Lightning pain shot through her, and she gasped.
Hoss frowned. “Are you okay?”
Chills spread over Agnes like wild-fire. “I’m fine,” she lied.
A blond woman slowly materialized, looking at the bag. “He took it from me.” She pointed at Agnes. “He wants to kill all of us. He wants all of you dead.” Her voice was so sad.
Agnes’s heart thumped into turbo speed. The woman slowly faded. Crap! It had to be a new victim.
Sometimes these apparitions weren’t always clear, but what if she was telling the truth? Kill all of them? Damn, an explosive.
Hoss parted the yellow tissue paper.
She held up her hand. “Wait. Don’t take the tissue out. It could trigger a bomb.”
She waited for the panic to flash in his eyes or sweat to trickle down his temple. But instead, he scanned the café. “You want to keep it here and take a chance of killing all these people?”
