I knew I was hurting his man pride but this was real life. We can’t afford to have flings that interfere with our duty. Once a case started, everything else had to go on hold.
“Angie, you know I would never let you down. I mean, yeah she is cute and all but I’ll do my job. I’ll have your back. I would never let you down.”
“Well, don’t tell me, show me, okay?” I replied.
“Got it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Much the same was going on with Brad and Cindy. He was a little rougher than Angie had been.
“Cynthia, I won’t have a lack of professionalism on my team. You need to get on board with this investigation. Not later, now. You know, I was hesitant to bring you along because of Dan Roberts but if I feel you can’t do your job I will send you packing. Is that clear enough for you?” he had asked.
“Yes sir. Very clear.”
“Good because I won’t bring it up again. You will just be on your way home.”
“I understand fully.”
“Alright. Now, how are you coming with the files?”
“I’m through about half of them. I keep having the same question. How is he getting all three of them at the same time? Why that kind of risk? I would think it would be almost impossible to control all three, especially in a public place.”
“I agree, that is one of the keys to solving this. The other thing Angie pointed out is what happens to the victim’s cars? They are never recovered. You would think someone would find at least one of them. What is he doing with them?” Brad asked.
“What about fingerprints or other evidence? How could you do this over and over and leave nothing behind? That’s freaky in itself,” Cindy added.
“All we really know is that he takes three women at a time, tortures them before killing them, then slices their throats open. Why he even does that is a mystery. I mean, once they're dead, why go that extra step?” Brad replied.
“Here is another thing. Notice he kills only four times in each state. A total of twelve women and then he moves on. Is that significant or does he feel he will be pressing his luck if he does more?”
“That’s a good point. We need to make a list of anomalies and have Marsha work them into her profile,” Brad said.
“I’ll take care of that. Listen Brad, you are right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I accept that. Let’s just move on from here okay?”
“You got it.”
**
Our afternoon meeting was more of a rehashing of details. By now everyone had read the materials.
“Marsha, what do you think?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not finished yet to be perfectly honest but I do have some thoughts.”
“I understand. Would you mind sharing them? I promise we won’t hold you to it later.”
She smiled quickly. Marsha was the oldest of the agents. I pegged her to be in he middle forties. She had a few gray hairs showing up and obviously didn’t seem to mind them. A good dye job would have eliminated them easily. She was about my height, five-six, and had brown eyes that showed very little white. It almost looked like she was stoned but she obviously wasn’t. She was trim as you would expect from an FBI agent. She wore no jewelry that I could see.
“Here is what I think for certain. I put him at between thirty and forty years of age. He was terribly abused as a child and maybe even as a young adult. His father was the aggressor but he holds his mother equally if not more responsible because she let it happen or worse, participated. He lived in poverty and pretty much hates women in general but even more so those with money. Why three at a time? I don’t have a clue yet. It could be something as simple as what he see as his lucky number. Maybe he was sexually and physically abused for three days at a time. I just don’t know yet. We may never know until we catch him.”
“So he is targeting well-off women because his mother was an accomplice to his abuse? Why not go after mothers who abuse their children?”
“How do you tell a father or mother is abusing their child? Usually we only hear about it when they are being arrested. Then it is too late to get to them. Rich, happy women are easy to target,” Marsha said.
“How is he getting them to cooperate?”
“I don’t have a clue,” she said.
“Brad, what do you think about having a news conference and warning women who travel in threes to various events that they should be on the lookout and take extra precautions?” I asked.
“It might help but you know how it is. It isn’t going to happen to me. Someone else may get abducted but I’m immune. Everyone thinks that until it bites them on the rear,” Brad replied.
“So, that’s a no?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It is definitely the prudent thing to do. This is something proactive and it at least gives women a heads up to be more aware of their surroundings.”
“Okay, I’m getting mixed signals. Yes or no?” I finally said.
“Yes. Let’s hold a press conference.”
“Great. I’ll let the captain know and start making arrangements. What would be a good time for you?”
“It really doesn’t matter. I would think a little earlier in the day so it can get not only on the television news but in the papers as well. If we are going to do it, we want the most bang for our buck. The more lead time the better they will play it up,” Brad replied.
“Then how about 2:00 p.m.?”
“That should give everyone plenty of time. We will have to change, unfortunately. We do have to be in standard FBI uniform anytime we are going to be on the news. If it is picked up nationally, and this most likely will be, we need to show the world what straight shooters we are.”
“Oh yes. Image catches the bad guy every time,” I replied.
“you betcha.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
He watched as the three women finished talking and walked towards their car. It wouldn’t be long now. They were so unaware. Clueless of their fate. The driver pressed her remote button but nothing happened. She pressed it again with the same result.
He was sitting in the car right next to her Mercedes with the window down.
He could hear her say, “I guess it is the battery. It shouldn’t be, the thing’s only a couple of months old.”
“Oh I think they do that so you will have to have it reprogramed and charge you a hundred bucks for ten minutes work,” the redhead said.
“Probably,” the other woman chimed in.
He just smiled. No it wasn’t the battery. He watched in the mirror as she unlocked the door using the key and pressed the lock release button. All three climbed in. He saw them fishing around for the seat belts, still talking away and finally she started the car.
Fog filled the car immediately and the three women froze for a second. It would be long enough. First one door then the second opened. The driver’s side never made it open. He waited a few more seconds and then got out, opened the side door of the van, and threw the redhead in first, then the other woman in the back. He glanced around making sure no one was paying any attention, then grabbed hold of the driver and half carried half dragged her to the van.
He closed the van door then closed all the car doors. He pulled the key out of the ignition and locked the car. Once back in the van he took off his rubber gloves, started the engine and carefully drove off.
The whole thing had taken perhaps two minutes from the time she had put the key in the ignition until he was backing out of the parking space. No one had seen a thing.
**
“We called this press conference today in order to make citizens more aware of a vicious serial killer that we believe is in the general vicinity,” Brad said starting off.
“We became aware of it when Detective Angelina Bartoni and Detective Dan Roberts, through some first rate detective work, discovered that the killer had once operated in Ohio and Kentucky before moving here. We believe the three women, Melody Jameson, Andrea Oglethorpe, and Mary Scot
t were linked to the murderer. We have a handout prepared by our profiler, Marsha Baker from the FBI in Langley. There are still gaps in the profile but it should help with your reporting. We have no names and no suspects at this time. We would ask that women traveling in threes be especially careful. We do not know why he has targeted threesomes but every case has that recurring detail. Please, use extra caution. Make sure you know your surroundings well and be on the lookout for any suspicious activity. Now, we will take a few questions.”
“Why is this just now being discovered?”
“I honestly cannot answer that. It is Detectives Bartoni and Roberts who get credit for putting this together. It is excellent police work by them that will allow us to bring this person to justice.”
“Buy why now?”
“I believe I answered that.”
“How does he get all three women at once?”
“We are working on several theories but don’t want to divulge that information just yet.”
“Don’t you think women need to know that?”
“Yes they do, when we are sure of our facts,” Brad replied.
The questions went on until they started repeating what had already been answered. I thought Brad handled it very well. He answered them with the knowledge we had and made no apologies for what we didn’t know. Obviously he had become polished at handling the press. Me, I wanted to go down and smack a few of them. It was probably best that he handled it.
“What do you think?” I asked when we were all finished.
“Oh, you know. Some of the good ones will realize that we need to get the information out to help protect the lives of potentially targeted women. Most will try for sensationalism as much as possible. One thing I can say with certainty is that at least one will embellish the number of victims. And at least one will add ‘no one knows how long this has been going on’,” Brad replied.
“I guess that’s how they justify their jobs. Things have really changed over the years in professional standards of journalism,” I said.
“Absolutely.”
**
The man was through. He used plastic tie wraps, shackles, and rope to make sure none of the three could escape. It was overkill but he had learned on his first outing that relying on one means could be disasterous.
Once satisfied that they were secure, he went back and drove the Mercedes to an abandoned truck graveyard. Semi-trucks that had crashed or burned were littered around. He had already selected a trailer and within minutes he drove the Mercedes into the back of the trailer on the ramps he had built and closed the door. He should have thought to bring a padlock but the chances of anyone ever looking inside were slim to none.
He walked at least a mile before he called for a cab. They were reluctant to pick him up that far out of town but he explained that his car had quit running and he was simply too tired to keep walking. They finally agreed to come get him. He had the driver drop him off at a service station three blocks from where he had left the van. A few minutes later he was once again heading out of the lot.
Once he was headed out of town he pulled over and took off his fake beard and mustache along with his contacts, coveralls, and hat. He doused them with gas and let them burn. When he was finished he took a shovel out of the back of the van, dug a small hole and buried the ashes.
Had he thought of everything? He slapped himself in the forehead. The rubber gloves were sitting on the dashboard. That was the kind of mistake that could get him caught. He decided he would drive down the road and toss the first one rolled up out the window. A few miles further he would toss the second one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Pretty much as Brad had predicted, one television station reported that at least thirty-five bodies had been discovered. I guess he couldn’t divide by three. The internet service offered not only the news but their interpretation as well. It seems everyone is an expert now days.
Ned was expanding the search area to include west of the Mississippi and sending out a second query to those states that hadn’t responded yet. Now that it was on the internet we stood a much better chance of getting a reply. Ned had added that at the next press conference we would announce the states that had not complied with our request for information. That was one sure way to light a fire under them.
**
The three women were huddled together as much as possible when he opened the door. The floor of the old barn was dirt and birds flew in and out through a hole in the roof. There was a work bench at one end but it had nothing on it now. Whatever had been there was tossed under it in no particular fashion.
“Hello girls.” he said as he stepped into the room and closed the door.
He bolted it from the inside and then put a second pad lock on it. He could see that all three had been crying. Well, that was okay, they all did at some point.
He walked over to them and looked down. Two just looked at the ground but the redhead looked up at him. What was he seeing? Fear? No, defiance? Possibly. Hate? Ah, yes, hate.
Without warning he slapped her so hard it caused her to fall over on her side, splitting her lip open. A huge red hand print rose up on her cheek. She just lay there.
“Now ladies, let me tell you why you are here and the rules. You need to listen very carefully. Failure to abide by the rules will result in severe punishment.”
He reached down and yanked the redhead into sitting position. This time she looked down rather than at him. Good. She was learning.
“Now here are the rules. Make sure you pay attention. Rule number one. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you without hesitation. The slightest hesitation will result in punishment. Rule two, when I enter the room you will get down on your hands and knees and put your head on the ground. If I see the slightest hesitation it will be dealt with harshly. Rule three, you will tell me how much you love me even if you are punished. You are to love me like no other. Now, isn’t that simple? Three little rules. If you can do that for just one week, I will let you go. I give you my word on that. However, if you fail…well we don’t need to talk about that. Oh, I almost forgot, I added a fourth rule. Never, ever, ever try to escape. You cannot even begin to imagine the pain you will suffer if you do. You may think about it but if you try, I will kill you in the most painful way you could ever imagine. I think it would be best if you just put that out of your mind,” he told them.
He reached out and took the red haired woman’s face in his hand and turned it so she had no choice but to look at him. She was trying to keep her look neutral. The last thing she wanted to do was irritate him.
“I like your hair. It is one of the things that attracted me to this group. In fact you might say you are the reason the three of you are here,” he said and smiled.
She stayed perfectly still. Be calm she kept telling herself. Don’t flinch or he will take it out on you again.
“I am hoping you will be the better of the three. Maybe in time you could come to worship me like I deserve. Would you like that?” he asked.
Oh God. She was smart enough to immediately shake her head yes.
“Ah. Very good. You are smart and a quick learner. I like that. I like that very much.
**
“We have a problem,” the captain said as he came into the conference room where we were going over the latest batch of files.
“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” I said.
“I’m afraid so. A boy thirteen called in and said his mother never returned home last night. She had gone to her Wednesday bridge club meeting but he hasn’t seen her since.”
“Bridge club. So she goes with two others to someone’s house?” I said.
“Exactly.”
I closed my eyes so hard I could see those little sparks that flash as your synoptic nerves get pressed tight.
“So he took them yesterday. Probably about the time we were holding the press conference,” I finally said.
The captain just shrugged.
“W
here were they taken from?” Dan asked.
“Maybe Panera. The young boy that called it in to said his mom was missing said she and her friends were going to go there before coming home. They may have changed their plans.”
“Alright, we are on our way,” Brad said and everyone scrambled to get their guns and vests.
We went in Brad’s rented SUV to the crime scene. I was thinking we needed to vary the color of the tape. I get tired of the same old yellow stuff. Maybe a nice purple or fuchsia. Somehow I doubt that will fly very far. We showed our badges even though our vests pretty much told who we were and went in to talk to the manager. Talk about a fruitless endeavor. They didn’t see anything, know anything or hear anything unusual. It was exactly what we expected. A few of the employees remembered the three ladies so I asked Dan and Ned to go talk to them. Brad, Cynthia, and I went to talk to the teenager.
They lived in a lovely home in a nice upscale neighborhood. They weren’t super rich like the scumbag Jameson but they were slightly more than just comfortable.
A tall, skinny boy with red hair and incredibly green eyes let us in. He had been crying so I decided I should be the one to do the talking.
“You're Tim McKnight, is that correct?”
He shook his head.
“Well Tim, you were very smart to call the police as soon as you did. Most people would have waited longer. That was very good thinking,” I said, trying to sooth him.
“I guess,” he mumbled.
“No, you did great. You wouldn’t believe how many just sit around and hope something good happens. You’re a very smart young man.”
“I want my mom back,” he said, tears starting to well up in his eyes again.
“I know you do Tim and because of you, we have a very good chance of getting her back. I need you to be brave for her and answer some questions. Could you do that?”
He wiped his tears with his sleeve and nodded again.
“Your mother plays bridge every week on Wednesday, is that right.”
“Yeah. Her and her friends take turns hosting it and driving. They are all nice to me.”
WHAT GOES AROUND - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE #4 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES Book 1) Page 6
