by Jaden Skye
“You think the killer is lurking in plain sight?” Hunter asked Tracy as the car rolled away.
“I do,” said Tracy, “This kidnapping has upped the ante. He’s choosing a high-profile victim here. He definitely wants to be known.”
“Could it be one of the people we’ve run into or heard about so far?” Hunter continued. “Maybe Candace’s fiancé?”
“Why him?” Clay asked. “Because of the nude paintings?”
“Maybe,” said Hunter. “It’s irregular. The guy could be obsessed with sex. And he’s buying and selling it, too. Not live women exactly, but paintings. This could be a link to Tina. For all we know they were in touch.”
“We have to show Wayne’s picture to Salty immediately,” Clay agreed. “See if he or anyone down there recognizes him.”
Tracy listened carefully. Of course this was a thread to follow, but she didn’t think it would lead anywhere. “Selling nude paintings doesn’t necessarily mean Wayne’s obsessed with sex,” Tracy countered. “Maybe he’s just obsessed with making money, or being in vogue. Of course, it’s a good idea to check everything, but I doubt that Wayne knew Tina.” It was too easy to grab at straws and Tracy didn’t want to do it. Too much was at stake and time was of the essence. Tracy had to keep them on track. That’s why she was here, after all.
“Okay,” said Clay, “any other particular points we should check into?”
“It makes more sense to check and see if Wayne might know Shannon’s husband, Jeffrey Glaze,” Tracy responded. “See if Jeffrey or Shannon ever bought one of Wayne’s paintings or frequented Candace’s boutique. It’s possible. After all, Shannon and Candace only lived a mile apart. That tells us the killer isn’t far away.”
“We’ve also got another victim with ash-blonde hair,” Clay added forcefully. “That’s another solid link between the three of them.”
“True,” said Tracy. “That points to a killer who could be fixated on the physical characteristics of his victims. He’s choosing women in a certain age range and location with the same physical trait.”
“So, what does that tell us about him?” Hunter was quick on the draw.
“ In and of itself it could say that these victims are physical replications for someone in the killer’s life he wanted to settle the score with. Or that his sexual or romantic fantasies about women revolved around a woman with ash-blonde hair. But that’s oversimplified. It could also suggest that the women were chosen randomly, that he had no previously knowledge of them or their lives. The people they were meant nothing to him.”
“A psychopath,” Clay muttered. “Someone without the ability to feel guilt or empathize with anyone. Someone who viewed people simply as objects to meet his needs.”
“That could be part of the picture.” Tracy was hesitant. “But it’s not the whole story here by a long shot. If we just narrow the field of search to psychopathic killers we could easily miss this guy.”
“What are we missing?” Hunter slid closer to Tracy on the seat and turned to her directly.
“The killer left a note with both bodies, ‘Find me,’” Tracy continued. “That’s not typical of a psychopathic sadist who gets his basic joy from torture and killing and from the sexual act. Shannon was held for two weeks and not physically tortured. This guy is after more than that. And notice the progression of his victims. First a prostitute, next a mother, the third a bride-to-be. This points to someone who is obsessed with the different aspects and stages of being a woman.”
“Yeah”—Clay’s lip curled then—“he wants to stop each one from having the joy that’s waiting for them, cut their lives off at the pass.”
“Well put,” said Tracy. “The killer interrupted Tina’s efforts at recovery, Shannon’s motherhood, and Candace’s wedding. He struck at peak times in their lives.”
“So, what do you think?” Hunter turned straight to Tracy. “Analyze the bastard, lead us to him.”
Tracy felt pressure to be further along than she was. “Piece by piece,” she murmured.
“We also have Candace’s family,” Clay jumped in. “Talking to them, I see a few possibilities. There’s bad blood between Kevin and Wayne, and also, possibly, between Kevin and Candace. Was Candace marrying Wayne to get back at her father?”
“Right now she’s not marrying anyone,” Tracy murmured. “The truth is her father will be lucky to go to her wedding at all.”
Hunter made a strange sound at that. This case had gotten to him as well it should..
“Everything you say is valid and should be explored,” Tracy said to Clay, “but we’re not looking at a single case. We have three victims, it’s the links between them that are vital. We have to zero in on any possible way the victims or people in their lives knew, or interacted with, each other. We also have to find a place or activity where all three might have run into the killer or connected with him. What’s the point of intersection?”
“What about the church?” Clay mentioned quickly. “Didn’t Shannon work at the nursery school at All Souls Church?”
“Yes, I believe she did,” said Tracy.
“And that’s where Candace’s wedding was going to be held,” Clay mused. “There’s a linkage for you.”
“Good point,” Tracy concurred. “All the people working at the church should be interviewed. See what they saw or heard.”
Hunter’s face clenched as he looked out the window. Tracy felt a wave of sadness for him, wondering why this case had become so personal.
“We definitely have to speak to the people at the church,” Clay continued. “And also the rest of the people in Candace’s world. I also want to talk to Kevin again. The bad blood between him and Wayne is interesting. Let’s see where it leads.”
“You’re not suggesting that Kevin has anything to do with it?” Hunter was disturbed by the suggestion. “Kevin runs two well-known philanthropies, and is extremely close to Boyd Logan, pastor of his church.”
“I’m not suggesting anything definite,” said Clay, “but it’s worth looking into Kevin and Wayne’s relationship. It’s also a good idea to have someone talk to Pastor Logan. Maybe he can tell us more about the family. There are always hidden secrets.”
As Clay spoke, Hunter pressed his hands against his temples.
“How you are you doing, Hunter?” Tracy couldn’t help asking.
“I’ve been better,” he said. “This case has gotten to me.”
Tracy was glad to hear him speak frankly. There were many feelings coursing through Hunter and Tracy could feel them. Despite the careful distance Hunter kept from her, there was an odd bond between them. He reminded Tracy of herself in so many ways.
“This case is definitely tough,” Tracy agreed. “Anything I can do to make it better?”
Hunter turned to her suddenly. “Just having you here makes it better,” he murmured. “I appreciate it. Thanks.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes when Tracy’s phone rang, startling them all. Tracy picked up immediately.
“Are you safe?” Wess’s voice sounded strained on the other end of the phone. “Everyone’s heard about the third woman going missing. I don’t like you being in the middle of this. All my friends and family are calling. Everyone’s upset.
“Yes, I’m safe, I’m fine. Thanks for calling, Wess,” Tracy answered, glad to be hearing from him.
“What can I do? I feel helpless,” he went on.
“Just your being there means a lot,” Tracy said in a soft tone. “You don’t have to do anything. You can’t.”
“Of course I can, and I need to,” he answered.
“Wess, you’re not listening to me.” Tracy’s voice got louder. “You’re not a part of the case. There’s nothing you can do. Just be there for me. That’s more than enough.”
“It’s not enough for me.” His voice got louder too. “You can’t ask me to sit on the sidelines at a time like this.”
Tracy didn’t know what Wess hoped to do, but she was both pleased
and troubled by his response. At least he cared about her deeply.
“I’m safe, there’s no reason to worry,” Tracy repeated. “You’re not on the sidelines. I’m just out of town doing my job.”
“But I want more, much more.” Wess grew upset and Tracy was thrown off course. This was definitely the last thing she needed now.
“Cool it, Wess, please,” Tracy added.
“Cool it? What are you telling me? To back off? Drift away?” said Wess.
“Of course not. I’m just saying to take it easy,” Tracy answered, when to her consternation, he hung up the phone.
Tracy looked at the phone in her hand a second before she hung up herself.
Somehow the call agitated Hunter even more. “Who the hell was that? Your fantastic boyfriend?”
Tracy felt both saddened and ashamed. “He’s my fiancé-to-be,” she murmured.
“Oh my God,” Hunter exclaimed. “Please, take this relationship easy. Be careful, Tracy.”
“Wess is worried about me, naturally,” Tracy answered, surprisingly shaky.
“Tracy.” Hunter took the phone out of her hand for a second. “This guy is your fiancé-to-be? That’s a big step to take. You’ve got to be careful. He’s obviously got some kind of problem. From what I see right now he’s upsetting you.”
Clay leaned over and took the phone from Hunter and gave it back to Tracy gently.
“We don’t know this guy, Hunter,” Clay reminded him. “He could be the light of Tracy’s life.” Then Clay looked at Tracy questioningly.
He used to be the light of my life, thought Tracy. Only a week ago that was true. She and Wess had been happy, planning a life together. But now their equilibrium had been shaken. This didn’t bode well, thought Tracy, but she knew she needed to give it time. All couples went through rough patches. She’d asked him to be patient and she had to be patient as well.
Clay looked upset. “It’s usual for people in our line of work to have partners who make things rough for us.” He quickly cast a glance at Hunter. “Our partners get scared, they get jealous, feel pushed out of our lives. This is a bumpy road we all travel.”
The kindness in Clay’s voice soothed Tracy greatly, as well as did his words.
“Clay’s right,” Hunter joined in. “Most of the time when someone gets married to one of us, they have no idea what they’re getting into. As time goes on they say they didn’t bargain for this, again and again. It happens no matter how much you love them, how hard you try to make them happy.” Hunter was on a roll. Tracy assumed he was talking about his own marriage and must be missing his wife.
“It is hard,” Tracy answered softly. “But this isn’t just a line of work, is it? We don’t have a choice, it’s a calling.”
Hunter’s eyes lit up at that. Tracy obviously hit a chord. “That’s what I used to tell my wife,” Hunter murmured, “those very words.”
“Our calling isn’t their calling, though,” Clay continued. “If the relationship is going to work you have to give each other plenty of space. And you have to be ready to go through plenty of tough times.”
Tracy couldn’t help but wonder about Clay’s marriage then. Had he found a wife who could understand what he went through and grant him the space he needed? Tracy wanted to know more, but of course this was neither the time nor the place. They had to find a way to block out their personal issues and focus all their attention on the killer’s next steps. Candace’s very life was at stake. Was it possible she was still alive? Tracy felt in her gut that she was, and she was determined to keep Candace from dying. No matter how Wess felt, no matter what price Tracy had to pay.
Chapter 16
It was mid-afternoon by now and Tracy and Hunter sat on opposite sides of his desk, their minds racing, resonating, trying to plot out the next steps. Before Tracy went further with her profile, she absolutely had to know who had last seen Candace alive and where.
“How about my calling in some lunch?” Clay suggested.
“I’m not hungry,” Hunter responded in a clipped tone.
“Some coffee and tuna salad would be great,” Tracy replied. The pressure she felt from Hunter was tremendous. She needed to pause a moment and have time to reflect. Leads never came during the peak of pressure, but revealed themselves in off moments.
Clay took out his phone. “I’m ordering lunch for you, too, Hunter,” he said.
Hunter didn’t hear, just sat tapping his fingers on his immovable mahogany desk. The buck ended with him and he knew it. He also knew another young woman’s life was in his hands.
“He’s not winning, Tracy! I’m not allowing it!” Hunter suddenly looked at her defiantly.
Tracy felt her heart skip a beat. Of course she didn’t want to allow it either, but was it entirely in their hands? They would do their best, but more than that wasn’t possible. She wanted to tell Hunter it wasn’t totally in their hands, but the look on his face stopped her cold. It was a look of fierce determination etched with deep sorrow.
“Let’s chart out his possible trajectory,” Tracy said then. “We’ll make sure every possible road he could take is covered.”
“I don’t think he’s still in Boston,” Hunter started. “He’s the kind who strikes out in a flash and then recedes like the bumbling coward he is.”
“You think he’s taken the women out of state and is holding them there?” asked Tracy. “What do you base that on?” She actually disagreed, felt that the killer was just a few blocks away.
“If he was anywhere close, we would have found him,” said Hunter. “There are too many cops working this case.”
“I think he gets his greatest pleasure from hanging out right under our noses,” said Tracy. “That proves to him how stupid we are, and how smart he is. Every minute he’s got her alive, he’s winning and we’re losing.”
“But his note said ‘Find me.’” Hunter rolled it over in his mind. “That means we’ve got to search for him.”
“It could mean lots of things,” said Tracy. “For all we know when he says Find Me, he’s issuing an invitation to die.”
The idea stunned Hunter. “An invitation for who to die? Us or him? Is this maniac suicidal?”
“Not in the usual sense,” said Tracy. “But once a killing spree starts, somewhere the killer knows he’s bound to go down. You can’t destroy others without destroying yourself.”
“But how could he know that?” Hunter looked askance.
“We all know everything deep down,” whispered Tracy. “We just live in hiding from ourselves.”
“That’s an odd theory, very odd,” said Hunter.
Clay joined the conversation then, trying to get it back on track. “We’re covering all bases.” he interrupted. “Roadblocks are also being set up out of town. There aren’t many places he can run to.”
“He’s got to have a way of breaking through the roadblocks,” Hunter mused. “Could be he’s a master at it.”
“He’s a master of turning our heads inside out,” Tracy responded. “All the roadblocks we have to deal with are inside our heads. The minute we get a total, clear picture of him, we’ll close in on him in no time.”
Hunter suddenly relaxed and gave Tracy an unexpected smile. “I like the way you put things. You make me think.”
Tracy was touched by his warmth and appreciation. When Hunter relaxed he was sweet and disarming. A completely different person than when he was all geared up.
“What made you think the guy’s a master of roadblocks?” Clay asked, interested.
“August said that to me,” Hunter replied. “He’s out there with the team that’s putting up roadblocks right now. Everyone feels the killer’s long gone by now.”
“We’ll get more information in a few minutes,” Clay interrupted. “Candace’s sister Margaret is coming in to talk to us. The sister told John she had something important to tell us and he sent her over asap.”
“Great,” said Tracy, relieved. “Things are opening up.”
Clay came over and sat down next to Tracy. He was always a soothing, calming presence, and that was needed more than ever now.
“We’ll get all the information we need before we know it,” Clay commented. “This killer is going down. No question about it.”
“How’d you get to be so calm and self-assured?” Tracy asked him.
Clay smiled. “My daddy showed me how,” he said. “He was an old Southern gentleman who knew how to live”
Tracy couldn’t help but smile in return. She hadn’t known Clay came from the South, but it made sense.
“Where did you grow up, Tracy?” Clay asked. Clearly he wanted to know more about her, too.
“In a small town outside of Dallas,” Tracy responded, registering Clay’s surprise. “We moved around a lot, though. There isn’t one place I call home.” Tracy’s life had certainly taken her on an unexpected trajectory and she knew the journey was far from over yet.
“I would have thought you grew up right in the middle of New York City,” Clay replied, “you’re so bright and on top of everything.”
“I guess I should take that as a compliment.” Tracy looked at him and smiled.
Hunter hung up the phone then, looking slightly victorious. “Okay, we’ve got a glimmer of light, if only a small one,” he announced. “I just learned that Candace was last seen alive jogging at about six in the morning before she disappeared. She was seen in a neighborhood a mile away from her home. A neighbor looking out of the window that morning saw her going by. The neighbor identified her immediately from the flyer.”
“A mile away? Where? At Wayne’s place? Is that where she’d slept?” Tracy was thrilled to have that information.
“I’ve got the name of the block she was jogging on and the woman who saw her,” Hunter said. “This is a perfect time to talk to her sister, who can fill us in on why she was there and what’s been going on in Candace’s life.”
“Perfect,” Clay echoed. “Always works that way, doesn’t it?”
