“I’m not going to take a picture. I’m going to show you one.”
Rainey typed in some info in a search engine and soon pulled up the picture she sought. She turned the phone so Dr. Wood and Sheila could see the screen.
“Ladies, you are looking at Ted Bundy’s bite mark. Doesn’t the bite mark on this victim look a lot like this?”
Sheila looked surprised. “Are you trying to tell me this body has been frozen since Ted Bundy was loose in the seventies?”
“No, but as you can see, his bite mark is readily available on the Internet. I think this killer made a set of teeth to look like Bundy’s.”
“Why would he do that?” Shelia asked, a knee jerk question, one Rainey was sure came to everyone’s mind when faced with the depravity of others.
Rainey pointed at the ligature around the victim’s throat. “See that hangman’s noose, that’s mimicking Gerard John Schaefer, another dead sadistic murderer. Although he was only convicted of two, he was a suspect in many more. The pose is reminiscent of several offenders, sadly too numerous to name.”
Rainey noticed something sticking out of the mud under the head. “Can we roll her yet?” She asked Dr. Wood. “I think he might have placed something under her face.”
Rainey was not ignoring the close proximity of the body to her residence. She could see the top floors in the distance, mostly obscured by evergreen branches, but still visible. The American Tobacco Trail ran behind her house. It was a recreational trail that traversed the Triangle. The body was located a few feet into the woods, just off the well-traveled path. He wanted this body found and placed it where it could be seen at daylight. Sheila told her an anonymous call alerted Chatham County deputies, who located the body. Rainey was sure the caller was also the killer. So anxious was he for Rainey to recognize his work, he could not wait for the body to be discovered by a passerby.
He may have stood in this spot, watching Rainey while she paused on the landing peering back at him. This was a message to her. He was screaming, “Can you see me now?” It did not miss her attention that the positioning of the body, had it stayed in the kneeling pose as he planned, pointed the buttocks squarely at her house. “Kiss my ass, Rainey Bell,” he was saying. She kept those thoughts to herself, while Dr. Wood and her assistants rolled the body onto an evidence collection sheet, careful to preserve the pose for the time being.
The body was located in a sunken area that sometimes flooded with the spring and summer rains. This close to the lake, the ground remained damp, if not wet, most of the year. Dark, thick mud caked on the victim’s face obscured her features. A partial death mask impression remained in the mud where her face had been. Now that the body had been moved, they could see the corner of a piece of paper sticking out of the muck. Dr. Wood’s assistant took pictures and then cautiously removed what turned out to be a twenty-dollar bill. She placed it between two clear pieces of plastic, careful not to dislodge or disturb the mud still attached to half of the bill, should it contain prints. Once inside a sealed evidence bag, the assistant gently handed it to Rainey.
Rainey examined it closely with her flashlight. One end of the bill was fairly free of dirt and she could see something typed along the edge.
Sheila stood next to Rainey, looking over her shoulder. “What does that say?” she asked.
Rainey pulled the evidence bag closer, looking at the tiny print. When the words became clear, she read them aloud.
“Agent Sexy, I believe you’re looking for this one.”
Rainey looked back at the mud-covered face of the victim. The skin of the body was pale, but could have been a light skinned or mixed race young woman.
She asked the medical examiner, “Dr. Wood, what ethnicity would you assign the victim?”
“I thought she was Caucasian, but now that we’ve rolled her over, I’m leaning toward light skinned African American-Caucasian mix.”
Rainey thought she knew the identity of the victim, but she had to be sure. “Look for a small tattoo on her right shoulder.”
Dr. Wood leaned down, brushing some dried mud from the victim’s skin. “Yes, I see it. There is a dark bruise under it, so it’s hard to read, maybe a capital ‘H’ followed by a lower case ‘a’ and—”
“It says Halle,” Rainey said. “Halle is her daughter’s name. The victim is Jacqueline Upshaw. She went missing in September 2012.”
“That’s the girl whose mother shot Mackie, right?” Sheila asked.
“Yes, and it also explains why she is the victim he chose to give us and why he placed her in my backyard. I dismissed him last night and spoke to the media about the serial rapist instead. He’s jealous. This is his coming out party. He’s making sure he gets his notoriety, which may be his undoing.”
Sheila was still looking at the evidence bag in Rainey’s hands. “Why a twenty-dollar bill? What’s the significance?”
“The UNSUB wants us to know he has studied, that he’s an expert on serial killers. This is a counterfeit bill, I’m sure, and his ode to James Mitchell DeBardeleben, or Mike as he was called. He has also been called America’s most sadistic killer, which explains the torture. If our UNSUB is emulating that particular offender and ones like him, then this woman suffered immeasurably and welcomed death when it came.”
Dr. Wood squinted up at Rainey. “There will be more bodies, I presume.”
“Yes, many. He’s kept them hidden so far, but the media attention will lead him to expose more. He did not learn one very important lesson from DeBardeleben.”
“What’s that?” Sheila asked.
Rainey handed the evidence bag to Sheila. “DeBardeleben never craved the media attention. It’s why he was able to get away with so many crimes for so long, and he spread his evil deeds over many states. He died in prison, having never confessed. Our guy seems to think he’s smart enough to hunt in one place and not get caught, even flaunt his presence now. Why not? He’s escaped detection so far.”
“Why draw attention to himself? Does he want us to stop him?”
Those were both questions Rainey had answered repeatedly during her years with the BAU. She would probably answer them again in the future, just as she responded to Sheila now.
“That’s a common misconception. Sure, some killers turn themselves in, or self-destruct, but this is an apex predator. Smart and cunning criminals, committing well-rehearsed, well-planned crimes, do not plan to get caught. But what is the point of being the greatest serial killer ever, if no one knows you exist? They get sloppy, caught up in the game with the police and the media.
They can also start to believe in their invincibility. In Dahmer’s case, the police stopped him with body parts in garbage bags in his back seat. Two of his victims sought help and were handed back to him by the police. One was actually carried back into his apartment by officers. He got away with his crimes for so long, he began to think he could not be caught. I think we have the perfect storm with this guy. He wants credit and he thinks we can’t catch him.”
Sheila verified what she was hearing, “And you think this is just the first body he’ll give us? This is the beginning of the game?”
“He is desperately seeking media attention.” Rainey pointed at the bite mark. “None of the rest of this scene even remotely resembles Ted Bundy’s crimes. He put that there because Ted is sexy. Mention Ted Bundy and the media frenzy will begin. If I were you, I’d keep the bite mark particulars on a need to know basis. It will drive this guy nuts that you didn’t mention it.”
“Okay, by me. Doc, you okay with that?” Shelia said.
“No problem. Are we done, ladies? I’d like to get her out of here, so you can process the rest of the scene.”
Rainey took a few steps back from the body. “I’m done. In fact, I’m going to go back to the house and have breakfast with my children, and then go check on my friend in the hospital. Nice to see you again, Dr. Wood.”
“You too, Rainey. Come by, if you want to view the autopsy. I should have
her on the table this morning, say ten o’clock.”
“Thanks, but I have a feeling you’ll have plenty of company on this one.” Rainey looked up at the first rays of gold breaking out in the sky. “I’m not sure what the rest of this day is going to bring, other than the sun. With triplets, I’ve learned not to plan on much more than that.”
Sheila turned to go with her. “I’ll walk you to your gate.” When they had taken a few steps, Sheila said softly, “I’m sorry your involvement with the task force may have made you a target and brought this to your home.”
“An evil man brought this to my home. There was something I noticed about the missing women, something I never mentioned to the task force.”
Sheila stopped, lowered her chin, and said, “You probably ought to divulge that information now, since there is a dead body at your backdoor.”
“I thought it was a coincidence, but now—”
“There are no coincidences,” Sheila interjected, repeating something Rainey often said to her.
Rainey continued, “I think he’s been fixated on me for a long time. BAU team members usually fascinate these guys. I was all over the news in the summer of 2010—July to be exact. That’s when the first woman disappeared. We didn’t know that at the time, and he’s made no effort to contact me, but I think he’s been waiting to see if I would notice him.”
“Well, he’s got your attention, now,” Sheila said, just as they arrived at Rainey’s back gate.
“That he does,” Rainey answered, while lifting the security panel and placing her finger on the biometric lock. When the keypad appeared on the screen, she punched in the code and heard the two heavy-duty dead-bolt locks recede with a clunk.
“That’s a fancy system you have there,” Sheila said. “Considering your history, I guess you need to be prepared for the worst.”
Rainey turned to her with a smile. “That’s why I like you, Sheila. You understand the difference between paranoia and preparedness.” She opened the gate, before saying, “You’re going to need help on this. The BAU should be notified. It’s not that I think they can swoop in and save the day, but they have resources and experience unmatched when dealing with this type of sexual sadist.”
“We have you. Why do we need Danny’s team?”
Sheila worked with the BAU team several times before. That’s how she and Rainey met, back when Rainey’s life was on a very different course. The path she was on today dictated her response.
“He made this personal, dumping a body in backyard. He wants to play with me. A few years ago, I would have found that tantalizing and jumped right in the game, but”—she looked over her shoulder at her home, where Katie and her kids were warm and safe—“I have more to lose now.”
“So, you want off the task force?”
“You’re not going to need me. Besides, if I am his focus and I don’t show up at the body recoveries or press conferences, it will unsettle him more. In fact, you should get the brass to publicly fire me. He’s fixated on me, draw him off, and give him a bigger target. Bring in the FBI with lights flashing and sirens blaring. He’ll start tossing bodies out in no time. That’s how you’ll catch him.”
“Well, okay,” Sheila replied. “I’m sure you have a lot on your plate with Mackie going down. Thanks for the help. I’ll put in an invoice for your crime scene consultation.”
Rainey shook Sheila’s hand. “This one’s on the house.”
“You stay safe, Rainey Bell,” Sheila said, shaking her hand.
Rainey grinned. “Always.”
Chapter Five
“In breaking news this morning, a body was found near an exclusive neighborhood in Chatham County, on the shores of Jordan Lake. Police have cordoned off the area and are not allowing our cameras in, but as you can see from our helicopter shot, the area is flooded with law enforcement personnel. In an interesting twist, sources report the body was located just feet from former FBI Behavioral Analyst Rainey Bell’s backyard. Bell has been involved in several serial murder investigations here in the Triangle, since resigning from the FBI, and resides in the home you see here in this highly secured gated community with Katie Meyers and the triplets they are raising as a couple. More on this developing story as information comes in. Now, on to the weather. How is our day here in the Triangle shaping up, Elizabeth?”
He had been switching from channel to channel, listening to the news coverage of the discovery of his “present” to Rainey Bell, since he came back from its delivery. He talked to the television, as he watched.
“You can see me now, can’t you, Agent Sexy?”
After reviving her from the near drowning, he shackled Bladen’s limp body to the wall and left her hanging there. He went away for a while. She had no idea how long, having lost consciousness shortly after he turned off the lights, and only waking upon his return. The concept of time passage was blurred, but she knew it was morning. As he flipped through the channels, Bladen recognized the theme music of the news show she usually watched while eating breakfast.
He came back from his absence excited, turned on the television, and spent the time waiting for the news to break with Bladen. He unshackled her from the wall and placed her on a large dog bed in the corner, telling her all about the “present” he picked out especially for “Agent Sexy,” while he bound her in an elaborate web of ropes. He toiled at each knot until it was perfect. Bladen had not resisted, but remained pliable and silent through it all. She kept her eyes tightly shut, with the image of the green-eyed man smiling at her, telling her not to give up.
Not giving up was a tall order in her current condition. Weak from her near-death experience and the torture, Bladen’s will to fight had left her. Her hands and feet were tied behind her back, bound together. Another splintery hemp rope was doubled and looped over both shoulders, with one end attached to her hands, and the other end running down the front of her body, pulled tightly through her crotch and brought up to her feet. If she moved at all, the rope dug into her flesh, causing excruciating pain from her already traumatized vagina and anus. Giving up seemed like the best option to Bladen.
Bladen heard the click of the television turning off and then his chair scraped the floor, as he pushed it back from the desk. She remained as motionless as possible, feigning unconsciousness, as his footsteps approached.
“I know you’re awake. I’ve been doing this long enough to tell when someone is faking.”
He checked the ropes with which he had bound her.
She whispered through her swollen split lips, “Why don’t you just kill me?”
“Now, what would be the fun in that?” He said, laughing. “You’ll be fine after some rest and then we’ll play some more.”
“Just let me die,” Bladen said, with her last bit of energy.
He slapped her hard, shouting, “If you don’t snap out of it, I will. When I get back, if you aren’t any fun, then I’ll just finish you off and go get another one with some fight. Maybe I’ll just go get Agent Sexy herself. That would be better than a sniffling, half-dead bitch like you.”
Bladen had noticed how he could rage one second and then be calm and controlled the next. He did it now, speaking to her like a father to a child.
“Your daddy would be so disappointed in you, Bladen. He expects you to fight, to hang on, until he can rescue you. You think about that while I’m gone. Remember what Rainey said, ‘Stay focused, stay engaged.’ She should be engaged in finding you any time now.”
He patted her still stinging cheek. Satisfied she could not escape the ropes, he moved away, but continued to talk.
“I have to go to work. I’ll be gone most of the day. There’s a tube with a water bottle attached to it, just above your head. I put a protein drink in there for you. There’s water in a dog bowl near your feet. You have to get your strength back. It’ll take some working around to get to it, but if you’re thirsty or hungry enough, the reward will be worth the pain. I hope you’ll think of me when that rope cuts
into your cunt. I know I’ll be thinking of you.”
Her weak, “Fuck you,” only made him laugh, as he turned off the lights and left, but not before his parting threat.
“Oh, I intend to fuck you in more ways than you ever dreamed, Bladen Asher. You can bet your sweet ass on that.”
#
Rainey walked into the kitchen, leaving her muddy boots in the garage. She spotted the kids first, all lined up in their chairs, pinching Cheerios with stubby fingers. From the smears of baby food on their little tee shirts, Rainey could tell Katie had already fed them. They looked up when they heard Rainey enter and smiled at her, which she returned.
“Good morning, little people,” she said, grinning broadly.
The triplets broke into spasms of laughter, immediately engulfing Rainey with all the good things, all the wonderful, fantastic, unimaginable joy she had in her life. If she could only have this—no evil men doing evil things—just this peace and contentment, Rainey would put away her weapons and silence the alarms. One glance at the television on the counter brought reality flooding back.
She could hear the helicopters overhead, and now was watching a recorded telephoto image of the walk she just took across her backyard, while the news ticker underneath read, “Body found behind former FBI agent’s home . . .” Thankfully, the volume was off. Rainey could only imagine the damage they were doing to the security net she worked so hard to keep in place. Every wannabe serial killer and deranged nut-job within driving distance would be staring at the screen, taking notes.
“Damn,” she said, under her breath, but not quietly enough.
Weather let out a whispered, “Nam.”
Then all three started mimicking Rainey. “Nam, nam, nam.”
“I told you,” Katie said. “They hear everything you say, Rainey.”
Weather led the trio into a chorus of, “Nee, nee, nee,” which Rainey was sure was going to be her moniker for the rest of her life.
Rainey never dreamed of being someone’s Nee-nee. She was fine with them calling her Rainey, but Katie said the kids would call her what they wanted and so far, “Nee-Nee-Nee,” was it. Katie was on the cusp of the traditional, “Ma-ma,” but then again there were a lot of “Da-da-das” being bantered about without a Daddy in sight. Most of the time, the triplets babbled among themselves in some weird alien language, complete with inflection and hand gestures. They fascinated Rainey, who could watch them communicate with each other for hours, totally engrossed in what she thought they might be saying. Weather seemed to be the most vocal, Mack the most interested in what she had to say, and Timothy, usually the peacemaker, seemed to change the subject when things became loud.
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