Siti set the coffee cup neatly on Lindy's desk. “You have a lot to do, and I know you need caffeine in your veins to do your best work. I hope you guys catch the monster soon. God, I'm scared to take the subway, to walk the streets alone now,” Siti said, twisting the corner of her blouse. “You have to put that sick fuck away for the rest of his life. What he did to those people...” Siti's voice wavered and she shook her head.
Lindy nodded and took an appreciative sip of her coffee. “The police are doing their best. I will do my best to help them nail him.” Lindy kept her voice calm and level. She didn't want to add to her secretary's panic and hysteria. Emotions were running high in the office and the city, and fear was spreading like wildfire. She didn't want her staff, her office and her city to descend into terror and chaos. “Thanks for the coffee, Siti.”
After Siti left her office, Lindy finished the rest of the coffee in three scalding gulps and hunkered down to work. Time was ticking away. She had to get the profile right, and narrow down the search for the police. The body of the third victim had been found just two nights ago. They had to work fast and stop the gruesome killings. The killer was getting bolder, more brutal, less controlled. It seemed something had snapped, and the killer was becoming unhinged and unpredictable. But he wasn't unstoppable. They were closing in on him, and they would stop him. Before he claimed his fourth victim.
Lindy sat back and studied her notes. Over the years, she had worked her way up to become one of the top criminal profilers in the department. She had worked with the police and other investigative agencies to profile and nail countless perpetrators of violent, brutal crimes.
But in all her years with the BAD, she had never come across a case like this. Murderers usually preyed on victims they perceived as easy and weak. But the victims of this killer weren't helpless and defenseless. The first victim, Yoon Park, was a policewoman, a fit, feisty woman who held a black belt in karate. The second victim was a male deputy district attorney, a rising star in the criminal justice system with a high conviction rate. And this latest victim, Felicia Jackson, was an experienced, gutsy counselor who worked with assault and abuse victims.
The three victims were sharp, tough, tenacious people, people who could stand up for themselves and for others. The deputy district attorney, Anthony Buller, was a former boxer. He was known to be relentless in the boxing ring and in the courtroom. And Felicia Jackson was no tiny, petite damsel. She was six foot tall and she had a mean right hook. Felicia had once stopped a drunk, deadbeat husband with a chopper from killing his wife and kids by knocking him out cold with a well-aimed punch.
These were all good, brave people. They were no pushovers, and she was sure they would have put up a hell of a fight to defend themselves.
Why were they targeted? They didn't make easy targets.
And she was sure they had been targeted by the same killer. The violence and brutality of the murders had escalated, but the method was the same.
Lindy opened the first victim's file and stared at the picture of the young policewoman. Yoon Park, twenty-eight years old, newly promoted to the rank of Sergeant. Her body had been found in a back alley, her face mutilated, and her eyes and tongue missing. Her heart had been ripped out, crushed and stuffed back into her ribcage. She was still dressed in her police uniform, and there were no signs of sexual assault.
Lindy flipped her legal pad and looked through her scribblings. Anthony Buller's body had been dumped on the steps of the Supreme Court building. But this time, not only had the eyes and tongue been ripped out of the victim, his hands had also been torn off. His mangled heart had been stuffed into his mouth.
Eat his heart out?
Lindy frowned and scratched out the phrase on her legal pad. No, that didn't make sense. That wasn't the message.
She turned to Felicia Jackson's file. Felicia's body was found on the doorstep of a shelter for abused women and children. Her eyes, tongue, hands and feet were missing. And this time, her heart and guts had been torn out. Her counselor badge was left on her chest and again, there were no signs that she had been raped.
These weren't sexual crimes. Lindy stared at the jumble of words on her notepad and pushed her glasses up her nose. She was wearing her spectacles this morning. She had always felt more comfortable in glasses, but she'd always thought they made her look nerdy and dowdy. Well, she'd decided that she should just let her inner nerd out and be herself. Nerds were sexy, beautiful and desirable.
Lindy glanced out the window and watched the morning sunlight glint off the reflective surface of the skyscrapers. Despite the troubling case she was working on, her mind flashed back briefly to Baxter. She had known that he was special all along. That was why she had remembered him and thought of him all these years. He made her feel really good, so cherished and loved. She felt good about him, about herself. Lindy caught her reflection in the window and realized that there was a dreamy smile on her face. She straightened up with a cough and turned back determinedly to her work. No time to dream. It was time to focus on the job and stop a sadistic, savage killer.
She ploughed through the information before her. None of the victims had been raped. So it wasn't about sex. Were these people killed for revenge, power, pleasure? She circled all these words in red on her legal pad.
No prints had been found on the bodies. The victims' skins had been torn, and there were bruises, cuts and burn marks on their legs, arms and what was left of their faces. They had been tortured before they were killed. The killer had wanted to see their pain and suffering. Their fear, their cries amused him, empowered him. It was horrific, harrowing and inhumane.
“He's not human,” Lindy muttered. “He can't be.”
But she knew too well that monsters often wore human faces. Smiling, familiar human faces.
She shook her head. What exactly did the killer want?
What was the motive here? The message?
She had written down a few possibilities last night at the diner. But now, as she re-thought and reworked the information at hand, those theories didn't seem to fit.
She tore out a page from her legal pad and balled up the paper.
When nothing worked, work from nothing.
Start from scratch, and scratch everything that she had previously come up with.
Flipping to a fresh, blank page, Lindy picked up her pink fountain pen and started writing.
CHAPTER TEN
Baxter nodded once as Liam finished briefing them. His smile had long vanished.
“I thought that we would be able to hunt the demon down swiftly and destroy him. I thought wrong,” Liam admitted unhappily. “James advised me to ask for help from the Black Bears,” Liam went on, referring to his lieutenant. James Ryker was also a dragon shifter and the Chief Security Officer at Skyflame Casino. There were very few dragon guards left and they were only posted to areas where breaches were known to occur. Whenever a gateway between the demon realms and this world was breached, the dragon guards had to act quickly to contain the damage. It was their job to hunt down any demons who had escaped to this realm and destroy them.
“Aw, you should have called us sooner.” Baxter rubbed his nose. “With that nice retainer fee you're paying us, you don't expect us to be sitting on our pretty butts and twiddling our thumbs while you guys run yourselves ragged. You should give us a chance to prove our worth. And if I may say so myself, we're worth every cent.”
“So how many made it out this time?” Dylan asked.
“Six demons jumped through the gateway before James and I managed to seal it up. We've destroyed five of them.”
“Five down, one to go,” Baxter said. “Easy peasy.”
“Not easy,” Liam cautioned. “This demon is very cunning. He is highly elusive, and very clever at disguise and deception. Time is running out. The longer he remains in this realm, the more powerful he becomes.”
“I'll sniff him out,” Baxter declared, tapping his nose.
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“He can hide his demon scent,” Liam said.
“Not from me.” Baxter folded his arms.
“He can change his appearance as well.”
“Ooh, a shapeshifting demon.” Baxter made a face. “Well, let's hope he doesn't shift into a bear. That—would be seriously insulting.”
The other Black Bears grunted their agreement. Liam stood up and said, “We've received reports that the demons are attempting another breach in a nearby town. We have to fight them back before they open another gateway. James and I will be leaving the city in an hour. If you need...”
Baxter waved a hand. “We'll manage. Go and save the town. We'll catch your runaway demon for you.”
Liam walked to a bookshelf and slid the back panel open. He drew out four daggers and handed them to the Black Bears. “These silver blades have been forged in dragon fire. Stab the demon cleanly through the heart to destroy him.”
They picked up the daggers and Baxter saw Luke suck in a shaky breath. What an assignment, but Dylan was right. No point mollycoddling him. Getting thrown in the deep end was a great way to learn how to swim. It had worked for him.
“Happy hunting,” Liam said.
As they left Liam's office, Baxter turned to Thor and asked, “Hey, which is worse? A demon or a Mob boss?”
“Is this a riddle?”
“Not really.” Baxter shrugged. “You've been up close and personal with those murderous bastards. I bet some of those crime lords are as bad as these stinking demons.”
Thor's eyes hardened. “Worse. The Mob is worse. The damage they've done is more widespread and far-reaching. How many of those women and children that they've trafficked and sold will ever be recovered? How many families and lives have they ripped apart and destroyed?” Thor said angrily.
Baxter nodded as he jabbed the lift button. 'You're right. You're damn right, man.”
As Luke fidgeted with his weapons, Baxter tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You were a cop, right? You've arrested some gang members before, haven't you?” Luke gave a curt nod.
“And those extorting, bullying pansies all cried for their Momma when you cuffed them, didn't they?”
Luke let out a short laugh. “Some of them did.”
“Well, you heard the big guy.” Baxter jerked a thumb at Thor. “He knows what he's talking about. And according to him, this demon is even softer and stupider than your pansy gangsters.”
“The demon is cunning,” Dylan warned. “Don't let your guard down.”
“Pfff!” Baxter gave the lift button another savage jab. “He's just big and ugly, and loves to play dirty. And he's fucking stupid to mess with our city!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lindy typed like a woman possessed. Absently, she reached out and popped a soggy fry into her mouth. She had eaten her lunch at her desk, and while the sandwiches were gone, she had forgotten all about her pack of fries. The cold, soggy fries sat forlornly at the side of her desk, and she occasionally grabbed a sad-looking fry and chewed on it while she mulled over her theories.
She was quite sure she had gotten it right. She checked her email and saw that her boss had replied. “Yes!” Her boss agreed with her analysis and told her to go ahead and release the profile to the police. Maximus was a good boss, firm, fair and tough. But he trusted his people, his judgment and didn't believe in spoonfeeding and micromanaging his staff.
She got all her powerpoint slides ready and saved it on her flash drive. Siti knocked on her door and poked her head in. “They're all gathered in the conference room,” Siti said. “You ready?”
“I am,” Lindy said, grabbing her flash drive. She straightened her jacket and strode out the door. “We'll catch the killer, Siti. He won't get away. But it's up to us. All of us.”
Siti flashed her a grin. “Good luck, boss. Go get 'em!”
Lindy entered the packed conference room. She saw her boss Maximus sitting at the back of the room. He gave her a quick nod of encouragement and sat back. This was her case, and he would let her handle it.
The room was crowded with police officers, homicide detectives, investigators and a couple of her fellow profilers. She closed the conference room door and inserted the flash drive into the laptop at the head of the table.
The room fell silent when pictures of the victims illuminated the screen. The smiling faces of Yoon Park, Anthony Buller and Felicia Jackson were placed side by side. The photographs were taken from their work passes, and they were all dressed professionally. Yoon Park was in her police uniform, and Anthony and Felicia were decked out in smart, neutral-colored jackets.
Lindy cleared her throat and said, “We have all been trying to find a common thread linking these three victims. These three people didn't seem to have anything in common at first. Two of the victims were women, and one was male. They varied in ages. Yoon was in her twenties, Anthony was thirty-eight and Felicia was in her early forties. Their backgrounds were different as well. One was from a single-parent family while the other came from a large, extended family. Felicia Jackson enjoyed a well-to-do, privileged upbringing. Three different people, from different backgrounds and neighborhoods. But they all died the same way.”
She clicked the control and the screen displayed the pictures of the victims' mutilated bodies. There was a ripple of unease and anger across the room. Lindy went on stoically, “They were all tortured, and had their hearts, eyes and tongues ripped out. The killer enjoyed inflicting pain and suffering, and he was sending a message with these murders.”
“Eyes and tongue,” someone spoke up. “These people saw something and the killer wanted to shut them up?”
Lindy nodded. “Not just shut them up. The later victims had their hands torn out. Felicia's feet were missing. The killer wanted to shut them up, and stop them. Stop what they were doing, stop them from walking forward in their chosen paths. These people saw something all right. They saw darkness and violence and wrongdoing, and they spoke up, stood up and did their part to stop the perpetrators. Yoon Park was a police officer. She protected and defended the city against crime. Anthony Buller put these criminals away as a public prosecutor, and Felicia Jackson stood up and gave voice to those who were too afraid and too weak to speak up for themselves. These three courageous people fought against crime and evil. What they stood for, what they did. This is the common thread linking the three of them.”
Agitated voices erupted around the conference room. Questions flew and Lindy tried her best to answer every one of them.
“The killer is going after police officers? Will we find another dead cop soon?”
“No. I don't think they will target another officer,” Lindy said.
“You said the killer won't target another police officer. Why not?” a young policewoman asked. “How can you be so sure?”
“The killer isn't after police officers, prosecutors and counselors per se. He wants to destroy what these people stand for.” Lindy took a deep breath and said, “Yoon, Anthony and Felicia stood for what's good and right in all of us. The killer is the exact opposite of these three warm and stout-hearted people. The killer is cold, and...old, not in age, but in mind and spirit. I believe he is a master of disguise, so he may look frail, aged or even young and vulnerable. But make no mistake. The killer is incredibly strong, callous, cunning. He has no mercy, no humanity.”
“So what are we looking for?”
Lindy swallowed. This was the hardest part.
“Everyone.”
Shouts were hurled and some people got to their feet.
“What?”
“You're nuts!”
“Everyone is a suspect?”
“What kind of rubbish is this?”
Lindy put up her hands to call for silence. “Wait, listen to me. This is a very delicate, dangerous situation. What I am saying is that the perpetrator would disguise himself to look like someone you would see as harmless and benign, perhaps even someone you'd encoun
ter every day. But beneath that soft, gentle exterior, there is a monster lurking. You have to be very alert and sensitive, and perhaps and more accurately, overly suspicious of anything and anyone from now on.”
As voices and emotions rose to fever pitch, Dr. Ross Manolo, one of the senior profilers from her department stood up. “I agree with Lindy,” Dr. Manolo said. “The killer would look ordinary and unremarkable. He would behave normally until something triggers his murderous instincts. Lindy hasn't mentioned it, but there is a possibility that hypnosis may have a part to play in this. Under hypnosis, a person may act in a way vastly different from how he or she would normally behave. I do believe the killer may be under a similar influence.”
Lindy frowned. What her colleague said sounded logical, but something told her that the killer wasn't under the influence of any drugs, illusion or hypnotic suggestion.
“That's not entirely...” she began.
But no one was listening. Words were ricocheting all over the room. Lindy winced. Had she messed up the briefing?
This was a difficult case, and everyone was on edge, impatient and angry that there was no breakthrough.
No one in the database had matched her profile. They were looking at a strange new type of killer. A killer who could look like anyone and everyone.
She knew the search perimeters were broad, but there was just no way to narrow it down. They really had to be on high alert, and anyone could be a suspect. It was sad and scary, but true.
Maximus walked to the front of the room. He was the head of the Behavioral Analysis Department, and almost every officer in the room had worked with him at some time or other in their career.
Maximus pointed at the gruesome pictures of the victims' body on the screen and said quietly, “Do you think that this is the work of a normal sane human being?”
He waited for the murmurs and head-shaking to die down.
“Do you think that these three victims were impressionable, gullible people? Do you think that with their experience and abilities, they would be easily hoodwinked and fooled?”
Bear's Baby (Bear Heat Book 4) Page 5
