“Got me in trouble already,” she said, laughing at her children.
Weather let fly with a handful of Cheerios in a salute to the tall, dark adult she found so entertaining.
“Hey, shortstop, knock it off,” Rainey said, picking up the projectiles.
More cackles of laughter ensued, and all three loaded their hands for the next volley.
“No,” Katie said softly.
Hands came down and filled little mouths with Cheerios.
“You are the Triplet Whisperer, no doubt about it,” Rainey said, hugging Katie to her.
“Good morning, everyone,” Constance Herndon sang, making her entrance.
Rainey’s mother was dressed in an expensive warm-up suit, her hair and make-up perfect, as if she were headed to the Country Club to sip mimosas on the patio with her friends. She pecked each one of the babies on the cheek, leaving lipstick kisses in her wake.
Always the perfect hostess, Katie left Rainey’s arms, asking, “May I bring you some coffee, Constance?”
“Please, dear. I don’t have to ask how you are, Rainey. I can see it. I presume the helicopters and heavy police presence in the woods behind your residence to be the cause of your displeasure.” Constance glanced at the television screen just long enough to read the caption about the body. “And I see my presumption was correct.”
“Good morning, mother,” Rainey said, taking off her jacket and hanging it by the backdoor. “Thank you for coming over.”
“The hat, Rainey,” Constance said, just as Rainey was about to pull out a chair. Indicating her hat should be removed out of good manners.
“Trust me,” Rainey replied, refusing to remove the hat in a fashion that summed up most of their interactions during Rainey’s adolescence, “it will be more impolite to take it off.”
“You always did go through conditioner like water. It’s your father’s genes. Billy had the wildest bush of hair when you were born. He cut it, because you nearly yanked him bald.”
“A shearing has crossed my mind,” Rainey said. “It appears to be frizzier than ever.”
“That comes with age,” Constance dropped casually, adding a little jab at the end. “You’ll be turning gray soon.”
Rainey followed with a snide, “And I’m sure blonde is your natural color still.”
Rainey and Constance called a truce after the babies were born, but theirs was still a tenuous relationship. Rainey could not abide her mother’s pretentiousness, and Constance never forgave Rainey for not being debutante material. Rainey did get points for marrying one, though. If Rainey had to be a lesbian, at least Katie’s pedigree met her mother’s approval.
With impeccable timing, the debutante brought over coffee for Rainey and her mother, and in typical Katie fashion, proceeded to tell Rainey how it was going to go from here.
“My mother is on her way over and so is Gunny.”
Rainey raised a questioning eyebrow.
Katie continued, “I called her, because I knew you would not let me leave the house without you, and someone who can protect the kids needs to be here or you won’t leave either. We’ll go to the hospital together, but Thelma says Mackie is scheduled for a lot of tests this morning, so we may not see him.”
She kept up her monologue, the triplets jabbering along with her. A true genius at multitasking, Katie managed to drop bite-sized pieces of fruit on the triplets’ trays, and serve the adults at the table plates of fruit and toast, all without missing a beat. Rainey was in awe of Katie’s abilities. She sipped her coffee and watched her wife manage their lives, happy to have her do it.
“I’ve cleared my calendar for the remainder of the week. If I’m not with you, then I will be here at home, safe with your children. You just go do what you need to do without us on your mind. Release the hounds! Go get your man, Rainey Bell. Nobody gets away with leaving a body in our backyard.”
Rainey set the coffee cup on the table. “I’m not going to be involved. I told Sheila to have them fire me publicly. I’m going to catch up on some college basketball games I’ve recorded and sit this one out. I’m not interested in being a target.”
“It appears that ship has sailed,” Constance said, pointing at the television, where Rainey’s image was prominently displayed.
The picture was taken at Maybelline’s last night. Rainey could see a little of the strained peas in the edge of the close-up, and from the facial expression, she could tell she was talking to Cookie when it was taken. The caption read, “Killer taunts former FBI profiler, Rainey Bell.”
Katie commented, “Well, at least they cropped most of the peas out of the shot.”
At that moment, lights flashed on in the backyard, strobes lit the still dawning morning, and a loud alarm jolted the babies, who sent fruit cubes and Cheerios skyward, before adding their own frightened cries to the cacophony. Rainey hurried to the security panel by the backdoor to silence the alarm. On the monitor, she could see a photographer running away from the back gate, where he was immediately wrangled by two uniformed police officers and taken away.
“You should show Constance how to reset the alarm. You know that is going to happen all day,” Katie said, calming the children with coos and kisses.
Rainey’s phone rang from her jacket pocket. She reached for it and saw Sheila’s name on the caller ID. Sheila spoke as soon as Rainey said, “Hello.”
“I’m so sorry, Rainey. There will be a uniform on your gate all day. It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you,” Rainey said, and calmly added, “You may want to spread the word, in case it isn’t common knowledge, I will shoot the first fucker that comes over that fence.”
Sheila laughed. “Well, if they don’t die from a heart attack first. That alarm nearly made me hurt myself. Good lord, that was loud.”
“It’s supposed to be a deterrent. If they keep coming through all of that, then I feel pretty good about putting a bullet in them.”
“I see your point.” Sheila paused, and then asked. “Are you sure you want off the task force?”
Rainey turned, so Katie could see her face, as she explained to everyone listening. “To use his apparent interest in me as an affective investigative tool, I would have to become the face of the investigation, the one out front, taunting and drawing him in. That’s not my job anymore. Call the BAU, Sheila.”
“All right then,” Sheila said, sighing. “Tell Mackie I hope he feels better soon.”
“I will. We’re headed to the hospital in a bit.” Rainey started to end the call, but she said instead, “Don’t let the BAU put you in a holding pattern. Tell them there is a DeBardeleben type sadist in the Triangle. That should get them in the air within the hour. Preserve the site for them. They’ll want to see it.”
“Okay, Rainey. I’ll do that. Thanks, and kiss those babies for me.”
Rainey smiled at Katie and their children, saying into the receiver, “Every chance I get.”
#
Melanie Meyers, Katie’s look-alike mother, arrived shortly after the alarm incident. Rainey excused herself to shower and change, but not before stopping to kiss each one of her children and her wife on the cheek. This hands-on, touchy feely, showing emotion and affection in public persona was new to Rainey, but she had grown into it over the past year. Unconditional love changed her, so much in fact, that she honestly did not want to be involved in the serial killer investigation taking place just beyond her back gate.
As she poured a copious amount of conditioner on her hair and waited for it to soak in, she thought about this new Rainey, the one with no ache for her old life in the BAU. The private investigator jobs were interesting and kept her engaged. The consultant gig satisfied her need to use the skills she worked so hard to obtain. She could drop in, read the files, maybe see a few crime scenes, interview a couple of victims or witnesses, give her recommendation, sometimes testify in court, but above all not take it home at night, where she slept cozy and well—no more nightmares. There was a heavy
price paid for achieving a highly sought after position in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Living with that depravity day in and day out took its toll. Rainey considered her bill paid in full.
It was the weather making Rainey’s hair go nuts. She tried to dry it, but the wintertime static in the house forced her to spray it down again with leave-in conditioner. Katie walked in, just as Rainey decided it was no use and put her hair back in a ponytail, and swore at the mirror.
“I am cutting this damn mop off, I swear.”
“If you want to cut your hair, cut it,” Katie said, slipping out of her clothes and heading for the shower.
“I don’t know why I’ve kept it long all these years,” Rainey said to her reflection in the mirror.
Katie grinned, then slipped behind the glass door, saying, “You told me your daddy loved your hair. I think that’s why you haven’t cut it.”
Ignoring the truth of Katie’s words, Rainey said, “I haven’t had short hair since I was a baby. Suppose I look weird. Maybe my head is really small under this mane.”
Katie rubbed the steam from the glass and peered out at Rainey. “Your head is normal size. Besides, if you don’t like it, you can grow it back.”
“Maybe,” Rainey said, contemplating what she would look like with short curls. Her image disappeared as the steam from the shower began to fog the mirror. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
Katie called after her, “Don’t fight with your mother.”
Rainey chuckled, saying under her breath, “I’m not making any promises.”
#
“We got a problem, boss,” Gunny said, as soon as Rainey made it back to the kitchen.
She had stopped in the den to check on the kids and the grandmothers. All was well, so she headed for the kitchen for some coffee, where she found Gunny pacing.
“What’s up?” Rainey asked, reaching for her cup and heading for the coffee maker.
“Katie took my weapon and put it in that safe there. Now, how am I supposed to be on a protection detail without my weapon?”
Rainey shook her head. “She won’t allow a weapon in the house, at least not beyond the doorway.”
“Well, that’d be fine if I could get to my gun when I needed it, but I can’t open that safe,” Gunny argued.
Gunny had a point, but Rainey was not going to program her fingerprints into the security system. Rainey trusted just three people that much. Mackie, Ernie, and Katie were the only people, who could unlock the exterior gates, open the gun safes, and enter the panic room. Located on the third floor in the master suite closet, secreted behind the wall, the space to install a small panic room was one of the selling points of the house.
They made a few other changes before moving in. Normal things, like a new gourmet kitchen for Katie, a laundry room on the second floor, a nursery beside the master suite, and new carpet in the den. Among the not so normal improvements were replacing all the windows with ballistic glass, the elaborate security system, gun safes distributed throughout the house, and the heavy-duty brick and iron fence around the grounds. Rainey’s castle was her fortress, and very few people were allowed beyond the mote of security she created around it.
Rainey thought of a solution. “I’ll move my mother’s car. You pull yours into the garage. Put your weapon in there. It will be two steps from the door and not technically in the house. That way, we’re not breaking the rules, just bending them.”
Gunny chuckled. “I like the way you think, boss.”
Gunny called Rainey boss, because she was so used to saying sir and ma’am in the military. Rainey finally broke her of saying ma’am to her all the time, and just accepted she was going to call her boss instead. Gunny and Rainey trained together once a week, and there was no doubt in her mind that her children would be safe with the former Marine watching over them. Rainey had the bruises to prove, even without a firearm, Gunny Pierce could put a hurtin’ on your ass. With her pistol, Gunny was a master marksman. So, what Katie didn’t know would not hurt her.
Rainey walked to the safe and retrieved both her Glock and Gunny’s. Like Junior, Gunny carried the same weapon. Rainey could tell them apart easily, because Gunny’s had a custom slide cover, with “Gunny” engraved on it in gold, a gift from her unit when she left the service. Rainey closed the safe and handed Gunny her Glock, and then remembered she needed her mother’s keys.
“Here, hold this,” Rainey said, handing her weapon to Gunny. “For God’s sake, don’t let Katie see them. I’ll be right back.”
Gunny laughed. “That little blonde has you wrapped. Just sayin’.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not above throwing us both out the door, so hide the firearms if she beats me back here.”
Rainey trotted off toward the den, where her mother informed her that the keys were in her purse in the bedroom. She ran to one of the second floor guestrooms, wrong one first, and then found the purse in the next room, but not the keys. After turning in a circle for a few moments, Rainey spotted the keys on the dresser, and hurried back to the kitchen as fast as she could, but it was not fast enough. Katie had arrived just seconds before and was wagging a finger in the air. She was about to corner Gunny, when she heard Rainey approach.
Katie wheeled on Rainey. “Why is she standing in my kitchen with your pistol?”
Gunny had concealed one of the weapons, but she had not moved quickly enough. There she stood, holding one of the pistols. This was not good, not good at all, a major infraction of Katie’s house rules.
In order not to face Katie’s wrath, Rainey scooted by her, grabbed her coat, and pushed Gunny toward the door leading to the garage, saying, “We were just leaving. Meet you in the car.”
When Rainey closed the door behind them, Gunny handed her the Glock and started up a hearty laugh. “That little woman is your kryptonite, Supergirl. It’s fascinating to watch you go all weak in the knees.”
Rainey dropped the clip from the pistol, checked that the chamber was clear, and stuck the magazine back in. It crossed her mind that she had not fired the weapon since Rex dismantled it, but the action seemed fine. She holstered it, and pushed a button on the wall.
“Well, I’d rather not be sleeping on the couch, so go hide your gun, while I move my mother’s car.”
The garage doors began to open. Gunny walked away still laughing.
Rainey called after her, “You don’t understand. You date men. Women are a whole other ballgame.”
Gunny turned around, backing out of the garage with a grin. “I lived and worked with women for twenty-four years, witnessed all the drama that went with it. That’s why I date men.”
#
Drip—Drip—Drip—
On it droned, second by second.
Drip—Drip—Drip—
This maddening sound was interrupted intermittently by earsplitting death metal, at least that was the way Bladen would describe it. The loud roar of a distorted voice, screaming undecipherable words, literally vibrated her teeth. Yet, she had begun to experience it as white noise, moments of respite from the drip—drip—drip. She still jumped each time it exploded from the speaker behind her, but she had learned to control the anticipation of its return.
“Just let it happen,” Bladen told herself.
There was no pattern to the music’s timing. It popped on and off at differing intervals, staying on for seconds or minutes, before abruptly ending. At times, she begged it to come on, because the dripping was agonizing. She would focus on something else, a happy memory, a lesson plan, anything to take her mind away, but the drip—drip—drip would pound its way through, dragging her back to the miserable little room, the pain, and the interminable drip. If she were lucky enough to fall asleep, the death metal would blast from the speaker, causing her to jerk awake, and the ropes to bite and rip her raw skin. He was torturing her without being there.
Drip—Drip—Drip—
#
Upon exiting their neighborhood, Rainey and Katie were met by a media frenz
y of flashes from photographers’ cameras and reporters running toward the car. Rainey gunned the engine, which sent the paparazzi scattering for their vehicles in an effort to follow the quickly disappearing Charger.
Katie commented, as they sped away, “You may not want to be the face of the investigation, but I think they have other plans.”
Rainey pulled the Charger into a parking place at the hospital, looking in the rearview mirror. No one followed them, at least closely enough to have seen them pull into the hospital, but Rainey was taking no chances. She put her pistol in the console, because even a license to carry did not permit a weapon in the hospital. She kissed Katie on the cheek. “Hurry up. Let’s get inside before they find us.”
They were approaching the hospital doors, when a detective Rainey knew exited the building. “Well, providence has spoken,” he said, smiling at her.
“Good morning, Detective Gardner,” Rainey said.
Gardner was a former army man and still carried himself with a military bearing, as he continued toward them. “I was just going out to the car to find your phone number. I’ve got a rape victim in here that refuses to speak to anyone or undergo an examination until she speaks to you.”
“Why me?” Rainey asked.
“She attended the symposium where you spoke Monday night.”
“Is it the same guy?” Rainey asked, knowing Gardner was working the serial rapist case.
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