by Dee Davis
Hannah shook her head, her face lined with worry. “Not good. Not that it’s surprising. She and Jasmine were really close. But she’s hanging in there. And she’s got guards 24/7 so at least she’s safe. Oh, and she confirmed that the knife set in her kitchen was complete. Which means Simon’s right, and there’s a knife missing.”
“Maybe he used it to get Jasmine to cooperate,” Harrison suggested. “Nothing like a knife to the neck to get someone moving.”
“Yes, but again it doesn’t fit with our initial profile. And certainly not with the original cyber killer. Taking a knife from the scene is sloppy.” Tracy frowned, jotting something down on a legal pad. “This guy is just full of contradictions. Maybe it’s just because we have so little to go on. But it’s really making me uneasy.”
“Like there’s something else going on, and we’re missing it,” Avery agreed. “Harrison, have you and Simon been able to isolate the voice from the video at Tina’s house?”
“We did.” Harrison nodded, exchanging a glance with Simon. “And Madison ran it against the FBI’s database using voice recognition software. But there weren’t any hits.”
“Maybe we should broaden the search,” Drake suggested. “The CIA has voice databases, too, right?”
“They do,” Hannah confirmed. “And if you’ll send me the file, Harrison, I’ll get it to Langley.” She didn’t actually look at him, and he worried that somehow his attempt to discuss things had only made it worse between them. Understanding women was just too damn difficult.
“All right then, between the DNA and the voiceprint, we’ve got a good shot at identifying this guy, but in the meantime we need to concentrate on finding Jasmine. Where are we with the mpeg?” Avery asked.
“Madison and I have been over it numerous times,” Harrison said, running a hand through his hair. “And I’ve still got nothing. Last time, he left us a clearly visible clue with the view of the lake. But there’s nothing identifiable here. I even had Drake look at it. He’s lived here longer. I thought maybe he’d see something I didn’t. But there’s nothing.”
“Which doesn’t make sense,” Tracy said. “This guy wants us to find him. It’s probably the most important part of his fantasy. I know we’ve said it before, but he needs the validation.”
“So why the hell is he making this so difficult?” Harrison asked, the question for no one in particular. They all knew it was probably too late, but that didn’t change the feeling of urgency.
“Maybe we’re coming at this the wrong way,” Hannah said, pushing a strand of purple-streaked hair out of her face. “What if this isn’t about what we can see?”
“Come again?” Drake asked, leaning forward, brow furrowed.
“Well, the first video was all about what we could see, right? And the second one was shot from the killer’s point of view to a degree that meant it was impossible to get a big picture of what was happening. In fact, it might not have been comprehensible at all, except that there was a difference.”
“Sound,” Harrison said, already pulling the video back up onto the computer. “The second video had sound.”
“And so did the third,” Avery concluded. “So maybe the clue is in the audio.”
“It’s certainly worth a try.” Harrison hit play and sat back as the video was projected onto the screen above the war room conference table.
The feed was still horrifying. The screaming seemed to drown out almost everything else, and as much as Harrison wanted to adjust the sound to screen it out, his hand refused to move, his mind instead superimposing the images of Jasmine with his sister, the memories threatening to overwhelm him.
“It’s all right,” Hannah said, materializing beside him, her breath warm against his neck as she reached across to freeze the video. “I can handle this. You don’t have to do it.”
He closed his eyes for a second, summoning all of his strength. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.” He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but it was all he could do to squeeze out the words.
“Harrison,” Avery began, his deep voice laced with concern.
“I said I’m fine.” He pulled free of Hannah, concentrating on the program’s controls. “I need to do this myself.” With a sharp exhalation, he adjusted the feed so that the scream was replaced by the ambient background noises.
Simon leaned forward, listening. Drake was still watching Harrison, his eyes concerned. But at Harrison’s nod, he dropped his gaze, instead joining the others as they listened for something—anything—that might give a hint to the location.
At first there was nothing but the creak of floorboards and the soft intake of the killer’s breathing. Then, from farther away, another noise filtered through the scene.
“Wait—” Hannah said, pushing her glasses up as she stared up at the screen. She was sitting beside him now, her fingers splayed on the table as she strained to hear. “There. What’s that? It’s metallic, right?”
“A clanging,” Tracy agreed.
The noise swelled, then faded, the sickening “thwick” of the killer’s knife taking precedence.
“Can you play it again?” Avery asked, his gaze moving to Harrison, assessing him as much as the video.
“Yes.” Harrison rewound and adjusted the sound levels again, trying to bring the noise they’d heard to the forefront. The result was a bit stronger, although still muffled, the other more horrifying sounds now reduced to the background.
“It’s rhythmic,” Simon said, lines forming on his forehead as he concentrated. “A bell maybe.”
“Or a clanger,” Hannah said, pushing to her feet. “Like a railroad crossing signal.”
“That’s it,” Drake echoed. “They must be near the railroad tracks.” The tracks bisected the far west side of the town.
“But that’s got to be at least five miles,” Simon said. “And there are houses all along the line.”
“Yes, but in order to be able to hear the signal, you’ve got to be at or near a corner. That should narrow it down some,” Avery observed.
Hannah was typing on her computer console. “According to web, there are five corners with audible signals.”
“And we can be fairly certain that he’s chosen the most remote of the five. Fewest houses. Any way to narrow the search down to include that?”
“Doing it now,” Hannah acknowledged, and Harrison marveled at her ability to concentrate and sort through the chaff so quickly.
“All right,” Avery said, pushing out of his chair. “I want everyone else to mobilize. As soon as Hannah’s got something, we need to be ready. Hannah, you have an address for us yet?”
“I’ve got four possibilities—I’m cross-checking them now against rental properties and empty houses.” She typed something else into the computer, her eyes glued to the screen. “Okay, that narrowed it down to two.”
“Do either of them have a cellar?” Simon asked. “We know that’s part of the fantasy.”
“Checking now. But that’s going to be a little harder. There should be a blueprint through the county planner’s office. But it’s all secured.”
“Move over.” Harrison slid his chair up next to hers so that he could access her keyboard. “Shouldn’t be that hard to get in.” He opened a utility panel and searched the scrolling list of programming, looking for a back door. “There,” he said in triumph. “I’m in.”
Hannah grabbed the keyboard back, typing in the first of the addresses, shaking her head when the computer verified that there was no cellar.
“Try the other one,” Harrison said, eyes on the screen as she typed.
It remained frustratingly blank for a moment and then filled with data. Hannah hit another key, and a blueprint appeared, the line drawing showing both the proximity of the railroad crossing and, even more damning, the presence of a cellar.
CHAPTER 14
The white clapboard house showed no sign of habitation. Set back from the street on a corner, it was surrounded by overgrown shrubbery, the tal
l tangle of bushes isolating it from its only neighbor. To the left and just behind the house, a pair of red lights and the requisite black and white X marked the railroad crossing. The windows were covered with plywood, the porch overgrown with weeds rising up through the floorboards.
Daylight was fading, the cold October wind biting. Red and yellow leaves whirled in unseen eddies, empty tree limbs reaching up toward the sky as the shadows of evening deepened. They approached the house, this time with backup from the local police.
Hannah was filled with a sense of dread as they broke through the front door and made their way through sheet-shrouded rooms until they reached a bedroom in the back. As with the scene before, there was blood everywhere. The bed and the wall behind it were covered with spatter, a deep stain spreading across the sheets, the remnants of restraints still tied to the bedposts.
“Goddamn it,” Harrison said, turning heel, already heading to the cellar.
Hannah started after him, and then stopped, looking to Avery, who motioned her to go. Sprinting, she followed behind as he took the cellar steps two at a time. There was only one room, and like Sara Lauter, Jasmine Washington was strung up from the rafters crucifixion style, legs and arms splayed, hair matted, her body spattered with blood.
Harrison searched for a pulse as Avery and the rest of the team arrived. “She’s dead. But she’s still warm. It can’t have been that long.”
The words made Hannah’s gut churn. They’d been so close.
“He wanted us to find her,” Harrison said to no one in particular as Tracy moved forward to examine the body. “He needed to prove that he’s still one step ahead of us. That he’s still capable of jerking us around.”
“This isn’t personal,” Avery said.
“The hell it’s not.” Harrison bit out the words, his jaw tight with anger. “This bastard has done his homework. Remember? He sent Sara the picture. He knows about the cyber killer. And if he knows that, then he probably knows about my sister. And me. It wouldn’t be that hard to put the pieces together.”
“Yes, but if he were after you specifically, wouldn’t he have selected more personal targets?” Simon asked.
“That’s what Madison said. But maybe having me involved just feeds the fantasy that he’s recreating the work of the cyber killer.”
“Actually there’s some logic to that,” Tracy said, looking up from where she was examining Jasmine’s body. “I mean, your being involved pulled Madison and me in as well. And the three of us were part of the team that took over the investigation after Bree’s death.”
“So you’re thinking that the change of locale might have been because Harrison was working at Sunderland.” Drake frowned as he considered the idea.
“It makes sense.” Tracy shrugged, inserting a probe in the body to obtain a liver temperature. “You guys keep a lid on the CIA side of Sunderland, but your professorial roles are public knowledge. And it was a coup for Sunderland to get someone with Harrison’s background. Not only for IT but for your criminology courses. So I’m guessing it made the news. At least among academic circles.”
“And here in New York,” Avery agreed. “We should have seen it before.”
“We haven’t had the time to put it together. Everything has been happening so quickly,” Hannah said. “And even if we had, I don’t think it would have helped us find Jasmine any faster.” The last was meant for Harrison, whose hands were clenched as he fought against his demons.
“Hannah’s right. According to temp and lividity, I’d say Jasmine’s been dead about eight hours.” Tracy pushed to her feet, signaling the hovering forensic tech that it was okay to take photographs.
“But when I touched her, she was warm,” Harrison protested.
“The body loses about one-point-five degrees an hour depending on the surrounding environment,” Tracy said. “It’s cold in here. So even at eighty-six degrees, she’s going to feel a little warm.”
“If she’s been dead eight hours—” Avery began.
“That’s approximate, of course,” Tracy interrupted. “I can be a little more exact after I get her back to the lab for an autopsy. But for all practical purposes, the killer is the only one who can give us an exact time of death.”
“Okay, but the point is, if she’s been dead that long, then he didn’t spend much time with her.”
“You’re right.” Hannah nodded, her mind running over the facts. “Tina said that Jasmine was going to check on Asha this morning. And we know she never opened her shop. So that means it was sometime before seven.”
“And assuming she stuck to the plan and went to the house on her way to work,” Simon said, “I’m guessing that’d mean sometime between six and six-thirty. It’s only a few minutes’ drive from Tina’s house to Java Joe.”
“And this is important because…?” Drake asked.
“Because the cyber killer’s ritual was all about torture.” Harrison ran a hand through his hair, his breathing calmer, but the muscle in his jaw still ticking. “He wanted them to suffer and then die slowly. They estimated he tortured his victims at least twenty-four hours before he killed them.”
“So this is another break with the original,” Avery said. “If he’s a copycat he’s gone way off script.”
“Maybe he let it build into his own fantasy,” Tracy said. “There’s some similarity to the first kill. He raped her. Same MO. A blunt object. But there’s no sign of torture here at all.”
“What about the knife wounds?” Hannah asked, forcing herself to depersonalize the body. “There have to be at least fifteen.”
“They’re all really shallow,” Tracy replied with a shake of her head. “And most of them are postmortem.”
“Meaning that Jasmine was dead when he inflicted the bulk of them?” Simon asked.
“Exactly. Last time, with Sara,” Tracy said, “there were postmortem wounds too, but there were also five or six deeper lacerations inflicted before she died.” She sighed, her eyes moving to the tech who was now carefully photographing Jasmine’s body. “You’ll remember that I told you that the cut to the throat was designed for instant death.”
“Unlike the cyber killer, who wanted to inflict maximum pain,” Harrison added.
“Yes,” Avery said. “And you’re telling us that he’s done that again.”
“Absolutely. Jasmine was dead before she ever left the bedroom. But last time, lividity showed that there was pooling of the blood in Sara’s buttocks and back.”
“Which would mean she was left lying prone for a least a little while after she was dead before being moved downstairs.” Hannah winced as the body moved slightly as a tech slipped by.
“Right.” Tracy nodded. “But this time, all the blood is in the ankles and feet. Which means he didn’t wait. He moved her almost immediately. And she wasn’t as artfully arranged as Sara was. It’s almost like he’s giving us the signature we’re looking for.”
“Except that we’re finding the differences almost immediately,” Drake said, his frustration mirroring everyone else’s in the room. “Or more accurately, you’re finding them.”
“Only because I’m trained to.” Tracy shrugged.
“So what are we missing?” Hannah asked, her mind running in circles now.
“The big picture,” Simon agreed. “But how the hell are we supposed to put it together?”
“Well, we’ve got the DNA sample,” Avery reminded them. “Maybe we’ll get a hit off the databases. If we know who we’re up against, it’ll be a lot easier to figure out why he’s here. And where he might strike next.”
“Or if we’re lucky,” Drake added, his gaze dropping to Jasmine’s mutilated body, “we’ll be able to stop him before this happens again.”
“Any progress?” Avery asked as he walked into the A-Tac computer room where Harrison was working. Hannah had been designated to be the one to break the news to Tina again, and Drake and Simon were still at the scene helping Tracy and her team.
“No. It’s
like this guy just came out of nowhere. I’ve been running cross-checks against cases I worked back in the day. But most of the people we convicted are still in prison. Three are dead. And the ones that don’t fit any of those categories are still accounted for. And none of them are anywhere near Sunderland.”
“So maybe it’s someone who was peripherally connected to the cyber killer case,” Avery suggested.
“I thought of that,” Harrison acknowledged. “So I checked all the interview notes and made a list of all the people we talked to. Then I checked them for proximity to Sunderland or local criminal activity, and nothing popped. I’ve got a field agent from the Austin FBI office verifying that everyone’s where they’re supposed to be. But I’m not expecting him to find any aberrations.”
“So maybe the connection isn’t from your FBI days,” Avery said, perching on the arm of a chair. “Maybe it’s something from after that. Someone you investigated when you were a part of Last Chance. Or someone you came across through your work with Phoenix.”
“It’s worth considering. And I’ve run cursory checks. But the truth is, the cases we pursued at the task force didn’t involve the kinds of people who’d revert to serial killings. There’s got to be a basic psychology there. And even allowing for variations in profile, the people we dealt with just aren’t the type. And at Phoenix, it was just program development.”
“Any problems with any of the employees?”
“None that I can remember. And believe me, I’ve been over it. I even gave John Brighton a call. It’s his company. He’s got his people looking, too. But I don’t think they’ll find anything. If this guy is connected to me in some way, it’s nothing that obvious.”
“Well, keep digging.” Avery said. “And concentrate on your time at the FBI. Maybe narrow the focus to cases that you and Madison and Tracy worked. It could be that she was right, and whoever is behind this wanted the three of you back together for some reason.”
