by Dale Mayer
She made her way to the desk and plunked down. Mark wasn’t in, neither were several of the other men. Had another case come in while she’d been out?
She hoped not. She really wanted some computer time to see if she could find any links. Just then the captain walked into the room. “Tavika.”
She lifted her head. When he made a hand motion toward the ceiling, meaning upstairs to his office, she stood up. She didn’t know what the hell this was about, but she hoped it wouldn’t take long. They’d identified the young girl. And she was just starting to delve into her history. She walked into the office. The captain said, “Take a seat.”
She sat.
“You always look like you think you’re in trouble.” He glared at her. “Stop it.”
“Am I?”
He sat back with a half laugh. “Hell no. You’re the best detective on the force.”
Her head tilted to the side as she studied him. It was unusual for him to give any compliments. It made her suspicious. “So why am I here?”
He leaned forward. “Bring me up-to-date on what you’re working on.”
She quickly ran through the three murders.
He barked out several questions. Then he said, “You need to find that link.”
“I know. There could be more victims,” she admitted.
“There always are. Call Shelby only if you have to.”
So this was what the meeting was about. “Did Shelby contact you?”
The captain shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t. And if the cases are connected then you made the right call. But you know that not everybody appreciates your methodology.”
She snorted. “I get results.”
“Which is why you get into trouble.”
She pondered that for a moment. “If there were more staff that were as good as Shelby I’d be okay with calling them too.”
He grinned. Big and beefy, a linebacker from way back when, the captain was a good man. She enjoyed working under him. “I’ll be telling the coroner’s office that.”
She bounced to her feet with a smile. “Not a good idea.” She turned and walked back to the door, calling back, “I’ll keep you updated.”
As she went downstairs, she met Henry. Dressed in a suit he looked good. “Wow, you moving up well above us?”
“Damn right.” He grinned at her affectionately. “Hear you caught a hot one?”
She nodded.
“That’s my girl.”
“And I’ll close it too.”
That was when she remembered he had a meeting upstairs today. “Good luck.” He waved in acknowledgment. He walked out the front door as CJ, another of her detective team, walked in. “How did it go?”
“Fine. Great actually.” He flashed a big grin then bent down to pull some stuff out of his desk. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He strode from the room. And she knew his trip out this time had nothing to do with a case. He was a fit and sexy animal. With no wife, no kids. And even in his mid-fifties he had a lot of appeal. He did a ton of volunteer work and was a hundred percent a people person. He was one of those guys that would do well no matter where he was.
She envied that. She did well here. Take her out of this setting and she was dying.
Now she had to find out if the three murders were connected. The last thing she needed was to be accused of taking the coroner for her cases over somebody else’s. In truth there were a lot of very capable people in the office. But she understood Shelby better than the others. And she liked to think Shelby understood her.
Since she’d already been tagged on the other cases it only made sense she be brought in on this one. But as she had yet to prove the connection… That’s what she was going to focus on for the next couple of hours.
She sat down at her desk and logged onto her computer. Or rather she tried to. An alert came up saying she had used up all of her attempts and would need to contact the administrator. She sat back and under her breath said, “What the hell?”
She’d changed her password yesterday. And last week. And the month before. She had more login issues than anyone in the station. She knew she was paranoid, but she couldn’t help but wonder if someone wasn’t just screwing with her. Or trying to make it look like she was a complete idiot.
Peters and Mark, who sat just slightly ahead of her, turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised.
She studied their faces for a moment then asked quietly, “Did you see anybody sitting at my desk today?”
Mark frowned. “I only just got in maybe fifteen minutes ago. There was nobody here then.”
“Pretty much the same,” Peters said. “I came in maybe five minutes before that. The office was empty.”
She nodded and kept her thoughts to herself. She picked up the phone and contacted the administrator. Then taking a picture of her screen with her cell, she got up from her desk and walked back out of the room with her jacket over her shoulder. She deliberately made it look like she was heading down to the coffee shop to grab something for lunch but raced to the stairwell to the captain’s office instead. She walked into the general office. His admin was away from her desk. Tavika headed toward his personal office. She knocked on the door.
“Come in.” The captain looked up at her and frowned. “What’s the matter?”
She stepped in, closed the door behind her and showed him her computer screen from the photo she’d just taken.
He read the error message then glanced up at her. “What does this mean?”
“I was up here with you. When I went back and tried to login that message came up.”
He sat back and studied her. “You think somebody’s been trying to log into your computer?”
“Yes and for the second time.” She sat down on the edge of her seat and explained about the problems she’d been having on her computer logins.
He listened quietly, his pencil tapping on the notepad he’d been writing on. “Did you contact the administrator?”
She nodded. “Yes, several times.” She took a deep breath. “I’m wondering if someone hasn’t been gaining access to my account for a long time now. I’ve regularly changed my logins, and they are very complicated – more so every time just because, but… I think we need to take a closer look.”
He leaned forward, his pencil snapping in his fingers. He frowned at the busted wood and tossed it into the garbage can beside him. “What do you suggest?”
“I was hoping I could get a little help?”
*
Jericho took a sip of his coffee. He was sitting in one of his favorite little cafés in the neighborhood. More for the location than anything else. They served good brew but the food was just so-so. It had the added advantage that the house where the killer had taken Tavika hostage so long ago was visible from this window. But only if he sat in this space. Often when he came in somebody else was there. And then he had to wait his turn.
Today the restaurant was empty. As he sat and studied the dilapidated house and the few on the other side, he wondered at the Ghost. Jericho had been hunting killers for a long time now. Although he didn’t necessarily understand every act they made, he knew that for the killer those particular acts were not only something that made sense, but they were often mandatory. Something to do with the twisted logic inside their heads.
“Do you want a refill?” The same middle-aged woman in her gingham apron stood in front of him with the coffee pot held in her hand.
“Sure,” he said smiling. “Thanks.” He’d been here a lot over the years. He tried not to come so often that the staff would remember him though. And that was tough because it was also one of the few places where he could think and feel like he was accomplishing something. Of course, that was a deception in itself. The longer the Ghost managed to continue to operate under everybody’s radar the more uneasy they all felt.
In this case, he knew Tavika was going to be one of the best chances they had to catch this guy. But in the meantime how many more people had to d
ie? He’d spent the morning researching the cases that had been attributed to him, looking for any kind of connection between the old man and the Ghost. The trouble with serial killers was that what was logical to them wasn’t to everyone else.
The problem with the Ghost was the sheer lack of evidence leading to a viable suspect. He slouched down on the seat and pulled his phone out. Of course there was nothing from Tavika. Considering he spent the night at her place you’d think she’d at least have a modicum of good manners to stay in touch.
He almost grinned to himself at that thought. She’d more likely slug him in the face than say thank you for the night. Still, he was getting a sense of who she was inside. His initial impressions were proving to be quite wrong and that bothered him. He thought she was a hard, almost arrogant cop who utilized her talents to close cases, pat her ego. Probably lording it over everyone around without giving anyone an idea of how she was doing so well. Instead, he found an introvert. Someone so reserved as to be considered cold. Which he now knew wasn’t true.
He could sense the banked fire inside, and the control she exerted over it. He’d seen visions of the two of them in bed so he knew what was coming. Anticipation was killing him, but at the same time it appeared a hell of a long way away. They’d also showed her dying. and that was something he wasn’t willing to sit back and let happen. Even though he railed at the accuracy of his visions up till now, he kept the faint hope that maybe this time as the victim was also psychic, she could possibly influence the future herself.
As he enjoyed his coffee, snippets of images showed up and drifted away. A young boy crying, a man straightening a stapler on a desk, a group of teens sitting in a circle with candles lit.
Nothing connected. Nothing clear. Typical. Just snapshots of bits and pieces.
He picked up his coffee for a sip – and stilled. Tavika sat on the bench seat across from him.
Only in spirit form.
His gaze widened. He wanted to lean forward and say something to her but in truth he didn’t dare. Someone could be watching. And he’d look like a hell of a fool talking to an empty seat. The longer he looked, the more defined the bench seat showed through her faint form. Glancing around the restaurant he leaned forward and said in a hoarse whisper, “What are you doing here?”
A gay laugh rang across the restaurant, but he knew no one else could hear. I was just practicing what you said you could do. She shrugged those shimmering shoulders and added, It’s interesting. Not sure there’s much advantage to this. But at least it works. I haven’t figured out how to just walk like this. All I did was think about you and found myself here. Pretty neat.
Her humor died and she leaned forward, glaring at him. But if I wanted to be in the circus I could join anytime. Her voice hardened, ringing as it did through his head as she said, Instead, I think I’ll stick to police work and actually find killers.
Just like that she disappeared.
He wanted to call out after her, but his mind was still reeling with the ease at which she’d picked up a new skill. Although, it was quite possible she already knew how to do it and was just playing mind games.
He’d met people like that before but it was not how he saw Tavika. So far she’d seemed genuine with little patience or tolerance for such games.
Maybe Stefan knew about her abilities.
Stefan’s voice popped into his head. Don’t bother questioning it. Tavika just learned that trick, and as she went screaming through the divide she woke me up. Her crossing was…powerful. Ungainly like a teenager, but with a little bit more practice her control’s going to be extraordinary.
“So she is an unaware psychic?” Jericho glanced around to make sure nobody was listening in on a strange conversation, because in truth he must look like an idiot. But he sucked at telepathic communication. Stefan could jump into his mind like he could anyone’s at will, but that didn’t mean Jericho had the same ability. He could do it, but not all the time or as easily as others could. “Is it really possible that on her first attempt she managed something like that?”
Absolutely. And it’s not that she’s an unaware psychic because what you don’t understand about Tavika is that to her these are not psychic skills. They are something she’s been able to do for decades – just normal everyday abilities. Possibly since before her kidnapping. I suspect a lot of her skills developed at that point in time. And quite likely as a defense mechanism.
“Defense mechanism?”
In order to survive the horrors of what she saw and experienced.
Right. He could understand that.
*
He had to admit to feeling pressured. It wasn’t normal for him to rush a job. But that sense of panic never quite went away these days. That need to look over his shoulder as if he were being watched or the police were on his trail and getting closer. Of course they weren’t. But having his crime scene used as a dump site for someone else, yeah that had been unnerving.
Unfortunately there were several names on his list yet.
And he was starting to feel like he needed to take care of them as soon as possible before…only he didn’t know how to finish that sentence…before what?
Still, the need to do something needled away at him. He chose a name off his list. She’d be easy. He’d get her done and out of the way – now.
Chapter 12
By the time Tavika finished her research she was more than a little tired. It had taken over an hour to get a new login from administration. Time she didn’t have.
Sure she’d asked for a little bit more than the usual, but that was what these people did. Right? Shaking her head she plunked herself back down on her computer and logged back in. Finally it worked. Only to be effective, she was going to have to log out every time she stood up for a cup of coffee.
That was going to piss her off as well. Still, she’d found something. Although there was no connection to the Ghost, the old man and the young girl were connected.
The old man had done a bunch of work for the girl’s family. And they’d identified her fairly easily because she was in the foster care system. Sarah Miller had gone missing off and on for the bulk of the last year. She was a regular runaway. In fact, there were several reports filed with the police though none in the last few months. So when she disappeared this time they assumed she was just pulling one of her tricks again.
Unfortunately in this case the girl’s timeout was now going to be permanent. Tavika patted the file she had at her side. She’d printed off a hard copy of everything she’d found. She still preferred paper over the digital world. Particularly when it came to her notes.
What she needed to do was set up a wall in one of the case rooms and see how all three of these victims were connected. Now that she had the old man doing electrical work at the foster home, she was trying to figure out how Gordon fit in as well. So far he’d been a blank in that regard, but she knew there was a connection. She could sense it. In truth she could see a tenuous line from Gordon to the old man.
She’d seen those since she first opened her eyes. A dotted highway through a room was enough to get her in trouble. But growing up and through school she’d been warned to stop making up lies. Even her own mother had told her not to tell anyone. Who knew seeing color dots traveling from one point to another would upset people?
Even so, she could see connections everywhere. She knew Peters was having an affair with someone who came into the building off and on. She’d seen the dotted lines. Seeing these connections was just another aspect that made her not want a permanent relationship.
Although to see most dotted pathways, she had to disappear into the abyss. Something she couldn’t do at work. Better she went home with her files and took her trip there. To that end, she logged off, shutdown the computer, stood up with her files, stuffed them into her bag then walked out of the room without saying anything to anyone. There was only Peters left from her team in the office.
At least Peters and Mark didn’t try to
be anything other than who they were. They were good and steadfast cops. She could appreciate that. That Peters’ love life was a mess was typical of many officers. Cops didn’t do so well in that regard.
They needed more solid ones. Portland was no better or worse than any other major city across the US. But there had been several incidences in the last few years that had given them a bad name. Dirty cops were good for nobody.
She’d considered going into internal affairs to hunt them down herself but figured the best use of her skills was out on the streets.
Outside she stopped in confusion. Then saw her truck. She walked over and hopped in. She sat inside, the keys in her hand and she stopped.
When had she picked up the truck? She’d walked to work this morning. Or had that happened yesterday? She sat there trying to figure it out and realized that somehow her truck was here but she hadn’t brought it. She had the keys in her hand, but she had not driven it to work. So what the hell was going on? She went to start up the engine, uneasiness deep in her soul, and caught sight of something else. Jericho. Standing in front of her with a big grin on his face.
Goddammit.
She rolled down her window. “Did you drive my truck here?”
He laughed and before she had a chance to lock the passenger door he hopped in. Inside, he buckled up and said, “Absolutely I did. And you are welcome by the way.”
She stared at him both in anger and relief. She’d had blackouts for months after she’d been rescued twenty years ago, but she never told anybody. She’d kept that deep inside. But like all fears it came to the surface every once in a while. And today when she sat in the truck not remembering where and how the truck had gotten there – so many fears about them came rushing to the surface.
“I should arrest you for grand theft auto,” she snapped.
He gave her look of mocking innocence. “You should be happy. At least today you don’t have to walk home.”
There was so much outrage burning through her she didn’t know what to think. And she had to wonder…when had he given her the keys? Bewildered, she looked from the keys to his face.
