Blind: Killer Instincts

by Sidney Bristol

  “I’m at a loss for what to think here, Detective.” Brooks spread his hands. “Would you enlighten me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He grabbed a chair from the corner and dragged it to the table, keeping his gaze away from the window. Sure, he couldn’t see the people on the other side, but he knew they were there. He could feel the weight of their stares. To them, he’d made an error of judgment, but he didn’t regret it. There was nothing about his time with her to regret.

  He cleared his throat and settled at the corner, near enough to Emma. “Thursday night—”

  “This last Thursday? The night Harold was killed?” Brooks asked. His pen hovered over the pad of paper, his gaze locked on Jacob’s face.

  “Yes, this last Thursday night I had arranged to meet up with Emma to discuss the original TBK case. Like I told you, she has a number of documents that were never handed over to the police. I wanted to see them so I could get a feel for what had been sent to me and how to gauge the severity of what we might be dealing with. Emma and I had dinner around seven. We were at the restaurant until almost nine. The coroner puts Harold’s death between nine and nine thirty. There is no way Emma could have crossed the city that fast and committed the crime before the time of death, even allowing for a margin of error.”

  “What if she drove really fast?”

  “Agent, please.” Jacob shook his head. “Emma is a strong woman, but the person we’re looking for has to have more muscle than she does. In order to create the kind of damage to the bodies she’d have to use heavier weapons, not to mention stand on top of something to get the right swing for impact we saw with the blood splatter. At best guess our suspect is around five eleven to six three. Emma, what are you?”

  “Five seven,” she replied.

  “See? She’s not tall enough.”

  “And the last two night’s murders?” Brook’s gaze flicked between the two of them.

  Jacob licked his lips. “She was with me. Both nights. We’re...involved.”

  “Fuck.” Brooks scrubbed his face.

  “I realize that my relationship with Emma has compromised me, and I willingly take myself off the case.” It hurt saying those words, but they needed to be said. The FBI was leaps and bounds ahead of his ability to catch this killer, but his gut said Emma would be involved at some point, if she weren’t already. He didn’t have anything to go on at this point except a feeling.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Jade leaned in, her face even paler than normal. “You’re going to want to see this.”

  They left the interrogation room, nearly scrambling for the door. One of the other agents had a flat screen turned on, but they weren’t looking at the news coverage. They were getting the direct camera feed from what looked to be the mobile bomb unit’s robot. The arms moved in slow, smooth motions, peeling the brown paper back from a box.

  “What happened?” Emma asked.

  Jade gestured to the screen. “Someone dropped this box in the courtyard in front of the courthouse. They’ve cleared the area, evacuated the buildings, and sent in both the robot and a bomb tech.”

  “When did this happen?” Brooks asked.

  “A little bit before she got here.” Jade nodded toward Emma.

  “Did they take x-rays? What did they show?” Brooks asked.

  “Yeah, the tech had an x-ray machine. Pipes. Some wires. That’s it.” Mullins shrugged.

  A killer and now a bomb threat. Just what they needed.

  It was a bold, ballsy move.

  “What are the chances this is connected?” Brooks asked.

  “It would be another alteration in the MO,” Jade said.

  “TBK left a victim at the courthouse,” Emma said, and the room stilled. She blinked at the sudden attention, but didn’t cower or try to hide. Instead she stood a little straighter. She knew her shit, and he was proud of the way she pulled herself together.

  “Gideon Cross—TBK killed him at his home, but when no one found him in a week, he got the body and dumped it in front of the courthouse with a note nailed to the man’s throat.” She gestured at the screen. “From the newspaper clippings, I’d say it’s about where that box is now.”

  “Someone identified his car. That was the lead police needed to figure him out,” Jade chimed in. The two women studied each other. Sizing the other up, maybe?

  “This could be TBKiller’s version of Gideon Cross?” Jacob asked.

  Emma shook her head. “It’s too soon. There’s at least four more killings between this one and Gideon’s.”

  Jade held up her hand, like a kid in class. “His MO is changing. We don’t know exactly what he will do. It’s obvious from the lack of preparation last night that he’s off his plan.”

  “Uh, he’ll kill people. That’s what the sick fuck does.” Emma stared at the redhead, and Jade stared back.

  “Look.” Mullins elbowed Jade as the package was opened.

  Jacob settled his hand at the small of Emma’s back. A small touch, but it put him more at ease. Hell, after the scene this morning he could shut himself up far away from everyone. People were horrible creatures sometimes.

  The black and white camera feed showed two unconnected pipes and a coil of wire shoved into the bottom of the box. No charge. No detonator. Not even any explosive material of any kind. This wasn’t a bomb at all.

  “Is that paper rolled up in the middle?” Jacob asked. He pointed at the white cylinder on the screen.

  “I want to know what it says,” Brooks said. He stalked through the office. Some of the agents followed him, others scattered.

  I killed them, was printed in large, block letters against an image of two people in chairs. The overlaying images were too distorted to make out more. Fuck, he wanted to stay on this case, to understand and really know what was going on.

  Emma turned toward him. “What now?”

  He shrugged. “I’m off the case.”

  “No, you can’t be. If we stop seeing each other—”

  “Don’t even say that.” He snapped more than he meant it, but he couldn’t help a surge of possessiveness. She wasn’t about to get rid of him that easy. “Besides, that’s not how this works.”

  “Okay, it was an idea. I mean, if we weren’t...whatever we are, you could still be on the case, right?”

  “No, it doesn’t work like that. My personal involvement with you skews my objectivity on this whole case.”

  “I’m sorry.” She grimaced.

  “What for?”

  “If I’d told you no, you’d still be on the case.”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He didn’t consider himself off the case. There was more than one way to tackle a problem. Besides, he wasn’t sure he’d do anything differently given the opportunity. Emma was a special kind of woman. The type that didn’t come along too often in a person’s life. His mother had taught him that much growing up. He wasn’t likely to let her walk out of his life.

  “But—this is the case your dad worked on.” She gestured to the conference rooms where they could see the boards with the victim’s information and a timeline set up. “It’s important to you.”

  “And we’ll still catch him. I won’t be an arresting officer. Do me a favor will you?”

  “Hm?”

  “Go get your stuff together in the interrogation room. I’m going to stick close to you until they catch him, okay?”

  “Why?” She frowned. “Do you still think he might come after me?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? That’s it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fine.” She frowned, not that he expected her to like his decision.

  Jacob followed in the wake of the agents and found Brooks with Stevenson. They had a radio between them. Jacob approached slowly and strained to hear what they were listening to, but it appeared to be over.

  “Thanks for that. Bring the letter up here as soon as you clear it,” Stevenson said in reply to whatever they’
d been told.

  “Another letter?” Jacob asked Brooks.

  “Yeah, they’re gathering all the security camera feeds now. Someone must have gotten a shot of this guy.” Brooks handed the radio off to Mullins. “We’re going to get him. Hey Mullins, call Lali and get her on this footage, now.”

  “What color is it?” Jacob asked before Brooks could walk away.

  “They didn’t say. Why? Got another theory, Detective?” It was a little unnerving to have the agent listen to what Jacob said so intently. Miller usually had one ear on the phone or hands on his keyboard when Jacob spitballed theories at him.

  Jacob licked his lips and pressed on. “The letters I received were red. The second victim’s were orange and the third yellow.”

  “It’s a god damned color wheel.” Brooks slapped Jacob on the shoulder like he did his agents. “Good eye.”

  Brooks called to two of his people and headed back toward the conference rooms, no doubt to work the new angles.

  Stevenson turned toward him, the shuttered expression not boding well.

  “Sir, I can—”

  “I don’t have time for excuses.” Stevenson held up his hand. “You’re off the case, but you already knew that.”

  “Officially, yeah. I understand. I want permission to take a few days off so I can watch Emma. I really think she’s going to be a target.”

  “Then put her in—”

  “She won’t go. Plus, if I’m there, and we make sure a patrol comes by every half hour, maybe we’ll catch him. I can put this time to good use, going over what she knows of the first victims. We can profile them. I think this is an idea with merit.”

  Stevenson’s lips were tightly compressed. “Is being with her in your best interest, son?”

  Jacob shrugged. “You have a problem with her?”

  Stevenson glanced away and sighed. “Your dad and I kept an eye on the Ration boy. He was never right after what happened to his parents.”

  “She’s different.”

  “I hope she is. For your sake. Let me know if you find a connection, but you’re doing this on your own time. I’m putting you on leave immediately. Have you heard from Freeman?”

  “No, why?” Jacob wasn’t all that close with his new partner, but he would have expected the man to be back soon.

  “While Miller is on administrative leave, I’m handling Homicide personally. Freeman should have been back this morning, but he hasn’t reported for duty.”

  “Want me to swing by his place? Check on him? I thought he was going to be out longer.”

  “He was, but plans changed. Now I can’t get hold of him, and we need everyone we can get here. I’ll have patrol check on him. Maybe plans changed again.” He slapped Jacob on the shoulder. “Keep me updated.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Now, to protect a woman who wouldn’t want to be protected.

  Jade shook her head and repeated herself for at least the tenth time. “She’s not our suspect.”

  “You don’t know that.” Mullins paced the room, back and forth.

  Why was it he always second-guessed her? Mullins was a damn good agent, but he could be an obnoxious prick sometimes. She gritted her teeth and waited for one of the other men to chime in and validate her theory, since that was the only way Mullins would ever believe her.

  Brooks had warned her before joining the BAU that it was the ultimate men’s club. Besides support staff like their tech, Lali, there were only two female field agents. Half the other agents took her as a joke, what with her history, despite her resumé and exemplary marks at the academy.

  “What if they’re doing this all together? Payton and Ration?” Mullins wheeled around. The man was really grasping at straws if he was even thinking about suggesting Detective Payton as a suspect. “They’re each other’s alibi.”

  “Connor,” Brooks barked at Mullins. “Knock it off.”

  Jade opened her mouth to point out the obvious, but thought better of it. Connor Mullins’ track record with questionable women was long and legendary. It was no wonder the man was a jaded jerk. He was a good agent, but even he had his flaws.

  “It makes for good fiction, man, but Payton and the girl, this ain’t them.” Dmitri Abraham rose and stretched, tossing a wink her way when no one was looking.

  Jade frowned, but he only smiled wider at her. She’d asked him to stop doing that. Flirting, even if it was for fun, was highly unprofessional, and it was hard enough for the boys in the club to take her seriously. She didn’t need rumors that she was dating one of her unit members to complicate things further.

  “Perez, take us through the profile, please,” Brooks asked.

  She nodded and cleared her throat. “We’re looking for a young, white male, approximately six feet in height with an athletic build. He’s artistic, but not as educated as TBK. After evaluating his grammar usage and lack of punctuation, he probably did not graduate high school. He’s picking victims that are similar to those of the original murders, but so far there isn’t a solid enough connection between the four.”

  “Except for Emma,” Mullins interjected.

  “She spoke with the first victim once. That’s a pretty flimsy connection,” she replied.

  “It still counts.”

  She sighed.

  “Fine, one possible connection is Emma. There’s motive for Emma to be the killer on the last murder, but not on the first two. Besides, she doesn’t fit the victimology. TBK never killed any single, white females. He targeted either family units or people on the fringes of society, and even then those were crimes of opportunity.”

  “Enough. Mullins, Abraham, I want you to go back to Harold’s house and talk to his neighbors. See if you can get a better description of the mailman. He’s our best target right now.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mullins pivoted and walked out of the room, followed by a more relaxed Abraham.

  Jade sighed and let her shoulders fall.

  “Don’t let him get under your skin,” Brooks said, though he hadn’t glanced at her once.

  “Maybe I should be moved to a different unit.” She didn’t want to, but having Mullins constantly second guessing her was exhausting. It wasn’t enough for her to know the cases forward and backward, she had to anticipate questions or she simply wasn’t pulling her weight.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. You fit here.”

  “Do I?” She turned toward the pictures of the victims, but it wasn’t TBK’s she saw.

  “It’s not hereditary. You can’t catch it.” Brooks spoke quietly, as if he sensed she wasn’t quite there with him.

  “I tell myself that every day, but it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes I wonder if it is.” She shrugged and turned away before she saw too much of her past on those walls. “I’m going to get some air, clear my head.”

  She didn’t flee from the homicide department, but she kept her eyes on the ground and didn’t acknowledge anyone else as she headed outside. The sweltering Oklahoma heat wrapped around her lungs, soaking up every bit of moisture in her skin. If she wasn't careful, she’d burn in a few minutes, but she didn’t plan on staying out here long.

  Detective Payton had marched into that interrogation room like a badge-wielding knight. Not quite the armor of dreams, but he hadn’t flinched away from going to Emma’s rescue.

  Jade sat down on the stairs in a bit of shade cast by a tree and allowed herself to wallow for a moment. No one could love a person with her past. She wasn’t even sure if she was capable of expressing love. It wasn’t as if anyone had ever demonstrated the emotion to her personally. But she knew it when she saw it. Like Jacob and Emma. The signs were all there. As a profiler she picked up on the clues. The way Payton had moved to put himself between Emma and Brooks. How he’d given her his left hand, keeping his dominant right free to ward off a threat. And Emma had bent to Jacob’s direction when Jade didn’t think the woman was used to taking orders at all.

  Did they know?

  Probably
not. Emma was an independent woman who would turn a blind eye on her feelings until she was smacked in the face with reality. Jacob, on the other hand, she was willing to bet was closer to accepting it. He’d given up the case of a lifetime to become her fierce protector. The only person who’d ever tried to protect her was a child services representative, and Brooks to a lesser degree.

  Jade allowed her attention to turn inward and prodded the cold, dark corners of her mind. Brooks always said that killers chose their path, but was he right? What if her fate was written in her genetics? What if she was born to be like her parents?

  Emma pulled up at Amanda’s duplex and stared hard at the little two-toned green house with its red door. She’d been friends with Amanda for years. Once, ages ago, Amanda dated a guy on Emma’s race team. They’d broken up, but Emma and Amanda had clicked. Since it was hard enough to find other women she liked, Emma had gone after that friendship. It had been easy to have fun with Amanda. How had it come to this?

  The idea that both Amanda and Derrick were dead made her numb on the inside. She hadn’t been able to process it or think through what that meant. How long had they been together?

  A patrol officer knocked on her driver’s side window, startling her.

  Emma shook her head and opened the door.

  “Yes, officer?” She grabbed her purse and paused, perched on the driver’s seat.

  “Chief said you were on your way, ma’am. I’m to escort you inside.”

  “And what then?” She arched her brow at the man. If they thought they were going to keep her out of the house, then they had another thing coming to them.

  “Your safety, ma’am.”

  “Fine, whatever, come on.” She rolled her eyes and slid out of the truck, dragging the box after her.

  Emma unlocked the house and pushed the door inward. She paused on the stoop, almost expecting to see Amanda pop out from her room, a smile on her face and the scrub set of the day still on. But she’d never be there for Emma again.

  “Ma’am, would you like me to check the house first?” the officer asked.

  “No, thanks.” She shut the door in his face.

  The stillness of the duplex settled around her.