by Susan Stoker
“So, why is he doing it?
“Well, besides being an asshole, we aren’t sure, Mack,” Dax answered, picking up Mackenzie’s hand and playing with her fingers absently. “We can’t find any connection between the women at all. As far as we can tell, they didn’t know each other. They didn’t live in the same part of the city. They all had different jobs. We can’t find the connection.”
“Okay, but again, I guess I’m confused about why is he’s doing it.”
“Who knows why any psycho does the things they do?” was Quint’s response.
Mackenzie’s brow furrowed in concentration. “But there has to be a reason. Nobody does things without having a reason. Is he pissed at the government? Was he abused as a child? Does he have Mommy issues? Why? If he’s not raping the women, he has to get something else out of it. When I was in middle school, I remember a kid kicking a stray dog. I confronted him about it and asked what the dog had ever done to him to deserve to be kicked. The kid said he’d been bitten by a stray dog when he was younger and hated them ever since. So okay, I didn’t like his answer and told him he was an idiot, but my point is, he had a reason to want to kick every stray dog he saw. I know that’s way too simplistic and I don’t mean to say that every guy who has ever been hurt or dumped by a woman would turn into a serial killer, but I still wanna know what this guy’s reason is.”
“Fuck, Dax. If she wasn’t already yours—”
“She is.” Dax cut off Quint’s words immediately and continued as if he and Quint didn’t have the short but intense side conversation. “We don’t know, Mack. The profilers have some guesses, but we don’t really know why he’s doing it. We’re trying to find out why he’s burying the women alive. If we can do that, we might be able to search the databases and find out who he is.”
“I suppose it can be hard to really figure out why anyone does anything nowadays. I mean, why do I harp on Daxton when he insists on putting the knives in the dishwasher with the points up? I know it’s better to put them pointy side down so you don’t cut yourself when you’re emptying the stupid thing, but Daxton just can’t seem to get that. I mean really, if he wants to risk stabbing himself every time he puts anything in or takes anything out, that’s on him, but ultimately it’s really not a big deal. Right?”
Dax leaned over and kissed Mack on the side of the head, as he was wont to do. “Right, sweetheart.” He leaned back over to his seat and picked up what was left of his sandwich.
“Well, the first time you slice your palm when you’re emptying the dishwasher, you’ll see I know what I’m talking about.”
Quint and Dax both laughed at her and they finished their lunch.
Dax walked Mack to the door and turned back to Quint, knowing he wanted to speak to him alone as much as Quint probably wanted to speak to him. “I’ll be back in just a sec.”
“I know you need some time to talk to your friend without me there, Daxton, I’m sorry I was in the way,” Mackenzie said in a low voice as they got to the door.
“You weren’t in the way.”
“Well, I hope you know that I realize your work comes first. So if you have to text me at the last minute and let me know you need to cancel, that’s okay. Even if I’ve already picked up lunch, I can find someone who will eat it. Hell, I swear the people I work with are professional mooches. I never leave anything in the fridge there anymore because it’ll disappear faster than ice cream on the Fourth of July. All I’m saying is, I know what you do is important and that you can’t talk about some of it with me, and that’s okay. Hell, I don’t want to know the details on most of the things you do, but I’ve been on my own for a long time now and won’t be hurt if you have to do other things instead of eat lunch with me.”
“Come here, Mack.” Dax pulled Mackenzie into his arms and leaned down to her. “You’re amazing.”
Mackenzie smiled. “Naw, just too old to get sucked into the drama shit that happens in a relationship when two people don’t trust each other. I trust you’ll let me know if I drive you crazy or if you don’t want to see me anymore.”
Dax leaned up and looked Mack in the eyes. “That’s not gonna happen anytime soon.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Be safe today. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I had a nice lunch. I like your friend.”
“Me too, Mack. And as long as you like me better than him, I’m okay with you liking Quint.”
“I like you more than him,” Mackenzie reassured him with a smile.
Dax kissed Mack hard on the lips and set her away from him. “Get back to work, sweetheart.”
Mackenzie waved as she turned around—and ran right into one of the other Rangers who was coming in the door. Luckily he caught her by the arms before she fell over.
“Sorry! Shit, sorry!” She smiled sheepishly at Dax and was gone.
Dax simply shook his head, realizing he’d happily spend the rest of his life catching her when she tripped over her own feet, or someone else’s, and headed back to his office to see what it was that Quint wanted to tell him about the Reaper case.
Quint didn’t waste any time. “This one had a walkie-talkie in the coffin with her.”
“What the holy fuck?” Dax’s mellow mood from spending time with Mack disappeared in a heartbeat.
“Yeah, the batteries were dead, and when they were replaced in the lab, it wasn’t on a channel that would connect with anyone. The best we can figure, the Reaper wanted to be able to talk to her, or for her to be able to talk to someone else. We have no idea if it actually worked or not so far though.”
“Has the next of kin been notified?”
“Not yet, we’re still working to identify the victim.”
“Fucking hell. He’s escalating. He wants to torture his victims. If he’s the one talking to them, he can say all sorts of shit to them while they’re dying. If he wants them to be able to talk to someone else…what’s his purpose behind that?”
“It’s as your Mackenzie said, we have to find out why. Find out what his trigger is.”
As much as he liked the words, “your Mackenzie”, Dax’s mind was stuck on this latest development from the psycho targeting helpless woman. “I’m on it. I’ll look again and see what I can find in the records for boys ages five to fifteen and see if I can’t find something, anything, in someone’s past that might trigger something like this. It’s an extreme long shot though, and we’ll probably get more from surveillance of the cemeteries, but it’s worth a shot. I’ll get in touch with Cruz and see if he can’t hurry up the profilers to give us more to go on.”
“Good idea. We’re gonna catch him, Dax,” Quint tried to reassure his friend.
“I sure hope so. This could keep getting uglier and uglier if we don’t.”
“I like Mack.” Quint changed the subject so abruptly, Dax had a hard time switching his mental gears.
“I like her too.”
“She’s spunky and quirky and down-to-earth.”
“I know.”
“You’re a lucky man. Don’t fuck it up.”
Dax smiled for the first time. “I’ll try not to.”
“You do that. You gonna eat that ham and cheese sandwich, or can I take it?”
“You touch it, you die.”
Quint merely laughed. “Okay.” His voice turned serious. “Let me know what you find. I don’t have a warm and fuzzy feeling about this.”
“Will do. Me either.”
Chapter Eight
The last month had been quiet; at least, the Lone Star Reaper had been quiet. Other cases, of course, took precedence, so it wasn’t as if Dax was sitting around doing nothing all day, but there had been no more dead women found buried alive in coffins, and the Reaper hadn’t communicated with anyone at all.
Dax didn’t like it. He preferred action over inaction. He felt in his gut the Reaper was still out there killing, he was just biding his time before bragging about it.
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Daxton and Quint had gotten with Cruz and he’d hooked them up with the profilers in the San Antonio office of the FBI. After many hours of research and discussion, they finally had a profile.
The Lone Star Reaper was most likely a man in his mid-thirties, unmarried, and a loner. He’d probably be highly intelligent, but not with a high education. He most likely went through some sort of psychological abuse when he was a child. He’d likely experienced a head injury when he was young, which affected the pre-frontal cortex, the area of the brain that controls judgment. The profile also suggested that he lived and worked in San Antonio and had probably had several blue-collar jobs throughout his life.
Further analysis by the profilers revealed that the Reaper probably had a domineering mother who was very strict and a father who wasn’t around. He most likely had never had a steady relationship with a woman, and if he had, it was almost certainly dysfunctional.
The profilers warned that he undoubtedly had an unnatural fascination with death, perhaps even attended funerals and visitations of people he’d never met. He may or may not be concerned with his personal grooming habits, and therefore could have dirt under his fingernails from the burials. It’d be a reminder of what he’d done, and he’d like that reminder. The Reaper would also in all likelihood be what most people would consider “strange” or “weird.”
The communications liaisons from the FBI and the Rangers had teamed up to go on the local news to share the profile. Since then, every law enforcement agency in the greater San Antonio area had been busy fielding phone tips about every weirdo people believed could be the killer. Hell, even the Highway Patrol officers were on the lookout for men who fit the profile when they pulled anyone over.
So far nothing had panned out, and the fact that the Lone Star Reaper had gone quiet didn’t sit well with Daxton, Quint, Cruz, and every other officer in the city. Everyone was simply holding their breath waiting for the next body to be found. It wasn’t a good feeling, knowing someone had to die in order to get more clues to the killer’s identity.
The best thing going on in Dax’s life was his relationship with Mackenzie. He was more than ready to move it to the next level. They got along great, she made him laugh, and every time his phone dinged, letting him know he’d received a text, he hoped it was from Mack. She’d gotten in the habit of texting him throughout the day to tell him completely random stuff. He loved it.
He picked up his phone when he heard the signal letting him know he had an incoming text.
Would it be inappropriate if I throat punched my boss?
Dax laughed out loud, thankful no one was around to hear him. He typed out a quick response.
Yeah, most likely. And you probably shouldn’t tell your Ranger boyfriend you are considering assault and battery.
Expecting Mack to respond right away, Dax was surprised when it was over an hour before he heard from her again.
Okay, you can’t do that shit to me, Daxton.
Concerned, Dax texted back immediately.
What shit?
Tell me you’re my boyfriend.
Dax smiled and typed out a quick response. Wanna go steady?
She responded with, Do you like me? Check Yes ___ or No___
Dax loved Mack’s sense of humor. She never ceased to surprise him.
Where’s the ‘Hell Yes’ box?
Dax’s phone rang not too much later after his last text. “Hey, Mack.”
“Don’t you think it’s too soon?”
“What’s too soon?”
“For us to be labeling what we have as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Dax got serious. He thought this might be coming. “Mack, we’ve been out every weekend since we met. I can’t count the number of dates we’ve had, because we’ve had too many. One of which ended with both of us on your couch, me with one hand down your pants and the other under your bra. I’ve had my tongue practically down your throat every time we’ve seen each other and you’ve inspected every inch of my bare chest with your hands and your mouth. Did you seriously just ask me if it was too soon for us to be calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Daxton!”
Dax smiled, knowing Mack was blushing. “Mack!”
“Okay, yeah, you have a point, but I just…we haven’t…I don’t know what this is.”
“You’re coming over tonight, yeah?”
“If you still want me to.”
“You’re coming over tonight. Bring a bag. You’re staying the night.” Dax could hear her breathing, but she didn’t say anything. He eased his tone back a bit. “Mack, I want you to stay the night. If you’re not ready for more than what we’ve done, no problem. I want to hold you in my arms as you sleep tonight, sweetheart. I’ve spent too many days in my shower thinking about you in my bed and jacking off. Sorry if that’s too crude, but it’s the truth. I want you in my arms. It’s time.”
“I sleep naked.” Mackenzie blurted out the first thing that came to mind after his words.
“What?”
“I sleep naked. I always have. I don’t like the feel of a shirt or pants on when I sleep. I don’t sleep calmly. I toss and turn and my clothes always end up wrapped around me and I feel like I’m being strangled. I’d like to say I’ll try to put something on, something sexy and lacy, but I can’t, it’s just not comfortable. I’m sorry. I know it’s weird, but I’ve always been that way.”
“Mack—”
“And it’s weird that we haven’t even slept together yet and I’m blurting this out, but I don’t think I can spend the night. It’d be weird if I wasn’t ready and you wanted me to sleep over and I took all my clothes off. It wouldn’t be fair to you, I’d be leading you on or something, and I don’t want to do that. I’m not a tease and I don’t want you to think that I am.”
“Mack, seriously, shut it, I—”
“And, you have a fourteen-pack. Seriously, you work out every morning and all I want to do in the mornings on the weekends is lay in bed until like ten. I hate working out, and I know I should, that would help my love handles, but I get all sweaty and gross then I’m sore and I’d rather keep my body the way it is—a bit big, but okay—than work out and hate every second of it.”
“Mack, swear to God, shut up and listen to me.”
Dax’s words seemed to echo across the connection. Mackenzie swallowed and bit her lip. “Sorry, Daxton. Shit. Sorry…go ahead.”
“I’m not sure even where to start after all that, but here goes. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I jacked off to the thought of you. I have and I do. I wanted you the second my tongue touched yours in your apartment that first day. Your nipples got hard against your shirt and I looked down at your tits and got an erection. I’m forty-six, Mack, I don’t spontaneously get hard anymore. But looking at you? Thinking about easing into your hot folds? Yeah, I’m hard right now just talking about it. Mack, I love your body. It’s not perfect, but whose is? You know what? I hate my legs. Seriously, my abs and arms are good, but my legs have always been too skinny. I can’t bulk them up no matter what I do. I’m telling you this so you know that we all have hang-ups about our bodies.”
Dax took a deep breath and pushed hard on his erection. Fuck, he was hornier than he could remember being in a long time.
“I wish you could see how hard I am listening to you talk about how you sleep nude. Fuck, woman. Thinking about you spread out on my sheets, naked as the day you were born, you have no idea what that visual is doing to me. I swear to Christ, if you aren’t ready, I’ll be as good as a choirboy. You aren’t a tease. You’re about as far from a tease as any woman I’ve ever met. You say exactly what you’re thinking all the time. You let it all hang out. I never have to guess what you’re thinking. That’s my favorite thing about you. Seriously. So please, come over tonight. Stay the night. Sleep naked in my bed, in my arms. If we make love, we make love. If not, it’s okay. We’ll get there when we’re both ready and not a
moment before.”
Dax waited a beat and when Mackenzie didn’t respond, he said, “Mack?”
“My family wants to meet you.”
Dax laughed again. “See? You don’t hold anything back. And I want to meet them too, sweetheart.”
“But it’s weird. My mom called last night and browbeat me for twenty minutes until I agreed to bring you over next week for dinner.”
“Okay. That sounds good.” Dax let Mack talk, let her work through his words at her own speed.
“My mom likes flowers; you’ll have to get her some. Don’t let Mark and Matthew badger you into saying anything you’ll regret later.”
“No one bullies me into saying anything I don’t mean, Mack. No one.”
She finally worked herself back around to his earlier words. “I want you to touch me. I want you inside me, Daxton. I’ve dreamed about it too. My vibrator has had more action since we’ve been seeing each other than it’s ever had before…and I’m not ashamed to admit that’s saying something. I lie in bed naked at night wishing you were next to me, but not knowing how to make that happen. If I asked you to stay, I’d feel like a slut. Hell, not a slut, it’s not like I put out…at all…but it’d be weird. But I swear, just about every night I get myself off thinking about you.”
Dax sighed in relief. He’d gotten what he wanted. Loving the thought that she’d gotten herself off while thinking about him, but knowing he couldn’t go down that road while he was working, he changed the subject. “You want me to pick you up tonight, or will you meet me at my place?”
“Will you pick me up?”
“Of course. I’ll be there around five thirty. Will that give you enough time to get home and get ready after work?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then. And Mack…no pressure. Okay?”
“No pressure. I’ll see you later, Daxton.”
“Later, sweetheart.” Dax hung up the phone and smiled, not knowing how he’d make it through the rest of the day. It was bad enough he woke up with a hard-on every morning, but he didn’t want to walk around the Ranger Station as he was right now.
