The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)

by Carolyn McCray

  Enough of that. She’d made it clear that was out of the question. Without any bitch-slapping, either, which Kyle had appreciated. Hard enough to get shot down. Getting shot down with attitude just sucked.

  Kyle rounded the corner that led to the rooms he’d fixed up for the BAU team to use. Computers, rented for the duration of their stay, covered most of the table and desk space, together with an array of phones, scanners, even a fax machine, just in case they had to send some paperwork back to the previous millennium or something.

  Hey, only the best for the guests of Ann Arbor’s finest.

  As he shuffled around the room, tweaking this, touching up that, trying to make everything as perfect as possible, Kyle heard two voices raised in a discordant argument just outside the door leading to the repurposed space. One of the voices was Agent Cooper’s. That would make the other, male, voice Salazar’s.

  “You can’t make that assumption. There’s no body, so we can’t know for sure—”

  “Exactly my point.” Coop’s voice. “There is no body. That little detail seem a bit… oh, I don’t know… off to you?”

  “What are you saying? That there’s another killer here… in the middle of Podunk, Nowhere?” Agent Salazar’s laughter was mocking.

  “No! That’s not what I’m talking about.” There was a slight hesitation in Cooper’s voice. “I think it… might be related to another case.”

  “Oh, you are kidding. You are kidding me,” Salazar’s tone was scathing. “You think this one’s a Humpty?”

  “I believe that a female serial killer doesn’t change her M.O.—”

  “We don’t know for sure this killer’s a woman,” Salazar barked back.

  “I know that, I—”

  “Look, whatever. Futz around with your little pet project if you want, but I’ve got real work to do here. I’m headed back over to the site. Kranz texted and said they found something.” Kyle heard the sound of footsteps fading back the way they had come.

  “Was it a body, by chance?” Agent Cooper muttered as she entered into the room. She lifted her eyes up and caught Kyle staring right at her. Oops. Busted. Man, he probably should’ve at least pretended to be doing something.

  “How much did you hear?” Cooper asked, her face wry.

  “Eh? What did you say?” Kyle yelled at her, cupping his hand around his ear. “You need to speak up.”

  The agent chuckled. “So, pretty much everything?”

  “Yeah. I would say yes. Pretty much all of it. Yep.”

  “Well,” she sighed. “I did warn you.”

  “Really?” Kyle shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her. “I guess maybe I didn’t hear that one, either. Bad ears. Old age. What can ya do?”

  “What you can do, Officer Hadderly, is keep that hearing loss going, at least for another minute or so.” Agent Cooper pulled out her cell. “I’m calling my boss.”

  “I’ll do you one better. How about you call your boss, and I go grab us some breakfast?”

  “Sounds fantastic. Thanks, Officer Hadderly.”

  “Call me Had. It’s my nom de plume around here.”

  Agent Cooper nodded, a small smile kissing her face. “And you can keep calling me Coop. I liked that one.”

  “You got it, Coop.”

  Kyle walked out of the station whistling. It was a beautiful morning.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sariah opened her cell phone, then closed it again. It was the third time she had repeated that action since Had left. It wasn’t that she was afraid to talk to her boss. Actually, her boss was the only person at the BAU that seemed to get her. It was more a concern about what kind of wasp nest this conversation could stir up.

  The last time she had made known her suspicions regarding Humpty Dumpty, her colleagues had actively shamed her. Even her boss, who seemed to like her—or at least not to hate her—had dismissed the evidence as inconclusive at that point.

  Bringing it up again could scuttle her entire career.

  On the other hand, if she did nothing, their entire team would be spinning their wheels on this crime scene that Sariah was convinced had nothing to do with the Mary, Mary killer. Knowing that her cowardice was obstructing an active investigation did not sit well with Agent Sariah Cooper.

  One way or the other, it was time to either do it or forget about it, and Sariah knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she would ever be able to do the latter. She sighed and pressed the speed-dial listing for Special Agent-in-Charge Nicholas Tanner.

  “Agent Nick Tanner here.” Sariah’s boss had a tenor voice, but the strength behind it was palpable. There was a directness in that tone that mirrored the way that Tanner handled everything. There was no obfuscation or sidestepping with him.

  Sariah found it comforting and terrifying in equal measures.

  “Sir, its Agent Cooper.”

  “Agent Cooper! What’ve you found out there?”

  “Not as much as we expected.” Sariah paused, took a deep breath, and took the plunge. “And possibly a lot more.”

  “Explain.” Her boss’s tone grew immediately more focused.

  “There was no body. Only a hand.”

  “Ah. And…?”

  There was no fooling her boss. He knew her well enough to know that she hadn’t disclosed the entire story yet. She cleared her throat and continued.

  “The hand showed signs of preservation, sir.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the line. A silence in which Sariah could feel and hear every single one of her heartbeats.

  “I see,” Agent Tanner finally said, his tone subdued. “You’re thinking its Humpty Dumpty again.”

  “Sir, there’s no other feasible—”

  “Agent Cooper,” her boss broke in. “I’m not arguing this point with you.”

  Sariah cringed as her face flushed in embarrassment. Agent Tanner was the only person in the BAU who gave her the time of day. She couldn’t afford to have him dismiss her ideas out of hand. Especially not this one.

  “But, sir—” Sariah pleaded.

  “You misunderstand me, Agent. I’m not arguing with you because I think you might be right.”

  Oh. That was unexpected. Sariah had gotten so used to the scoffs and scorns. She had no idea what it looked like when someone was on her side.

  “Sorry. And thank you, sir.”

  “No thanks necessary,” Agent Tanner grumbled. “Besides, I’m not sure you’ll be thanking me when this is all over with. If it turns out it isn’t Humpty Dumpty, you’re digging your own grave in the department. If it is… well, that’s its own set of problems.”

  “Sir?”

  “Look, let’s just get DNA and tox back on it and see what they say. It’s too early to make any decisions based on what we’ve got. And whether or not this specific site has to do with the Mary, Mary case, you guys are already there. So work it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sariah hesitated, then spoke again. “Do you think it is Humpty, Agent Tanner?”

  “You don’t really want to know what I think, Agent Cooper.” Her boss ended the connection, and Sariah sat there for a moment, thinking.

  It was time for her to get to work on the Mary, Mary case. And if Tanner was right, she should be hoping that it would take her a long, long time to get finished with it.

  * * *

  Kyle swept into the office, carrying bags of food. He’d picked up some traditional Polish breakfasts at Amadeus Café and was currently second-guessing himself. He thought Polish food was awesome, but now that he was here, Kyle was thinking that maybe not everyone in the US would agree.

  “So… Your choices are between sardines and tomatoes on toast with poached eggs or kielbasa and toast with soft-boiled eggs. Sorry.”

  Coop’s face brightened up. “Polish? You’re kidding. I love Polish food!”

  “Really? You’re not just trying to make me feel better?”

  “No.” She shook her head vigorously. “My roommate in college was Polish. Hated i
t at first, but now… I dunno. I miss her… and her food.” Coop grinned up at him took a big sniff. “It smells great!” She reached her hand out. “I’ll take the sardines, unless you care.”

  “Go ahead. I’m more of a sausage fan, myself.” Kyle stopped and ran back over what he’d just said in his head, his face heating up. “That didn’t come out quite right.”

  Coop chuckled as she dug into her food. “Wow. I’m a lot hungrier than I thought. Thanks, Had. You’re a life saver.”

  “Hey, that’s why I wear the badge, baby.” Kyle swung his leg over the chair next to the apparently starving agent, opening up his own Styrofoam container. “So, what did your boss have to say?”

  “Waiting on DNA and tox. But…” Agent Cooper paused, her face careful. “It went a lot better than I’d feared. He seemed almost… not sure… primed? Like he was already prepped to buy into the theory.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Kyle said, putting as much enthusiasm into his tone as he could muster. He almost didn’t want to ask his next question. “So what does that mean for this case?”

  “Oh, we’re still working this case, definitely.”

  Kyle breathed a huge internal sigh of relief. “Perfect. Good, good.” He picked up one of the files he’d pulled for the BAU team to look through. “I was thinking. Mary, Mary… I mean, the unsub… she uses an overdose of OxyContin to kill her victims, right?”

  “That’s my understanding, from what I’ve seen of the file.”

  Setting the file back down again, Kyle snatched another bite of kielbasa before continuing. “OxyContin is a controlled substance, so…” He paused to swallow his food.

  Coop stepped in, not missing a beat. “So we can track the killer by checking into hospital inventory discrepancies.”

  Kyle pointed at his mouth, shrugging an apology, then swallowed again. “We already ran down that lead. None showed up missing.”

  Agent Cooper raised her eyebrows. “Nice detective work, Had.”

  Making a wry face at her, Kyle muttered, “Fat lot of good it did me.” He sighed. “I don’t have tons of experience when it comes to homicides.”

  “Please. You’re doing better than most of the yahoos I’ve had to work with.” Coop made a come-here motion with her hands. “Keep the ideas coming.”

  “Well, the drugs have to be coming from somewhere. It’s possible she’s getting it on the streets, but there’s not a lot of OxyContin traffic in Ann Arbor.” Kyle thought about it for a second. “Actually, there’s not a lot of traffic in Ann Arbor period.”

  “Plus, finding the killer that way is going to take a lot more manpower than what we have at the moment. Let’s rule out whatever we can on our own.”

  Knitting his brows, Kyle looked for anything he might be overlooking. “The hospitals keep pretty close track of all the opiates they distribute to their patients. They’re locked down pretty well.”

  “Wait.” Coop snapped her fingers. “The ones they distribute. What if the nurses are skimming?”

  “Skimming?”

  “Right. Taking in the drugs to patients who are either elderly or unable to communicate well and then not actually administering them.”

  “Wow,” Kyle exclaimed. “That’s… well that’s just harsh, is what that is.”

  “Not any harsher than killing someone and burying them in a shallow grave.”

  “Point taken.”

  Coop slapped the file closed and started typing into a computer next to her, pulling a phone closer to her. “Time to start tracking down our killer.”

  Okay, maybe making calls to the local hospitals didn’t sound like an amazing time, but Kyle was enjoying every second of this.

  CHAPTER 3

  Watching an interrogation was a new thing for Sariah. Usually she was the one in there, but this was a national profile case, so as a junior part of the BAU team, she was sitting this one out.

  The rest of her team was lined up behind her, but Officer Hadderly stood to her left. It was a little weird to have someone so close to her. Weird, but comforting. He had walked her in here, past more than a few glares from some of the members of her team. Sariah found that, in this instance, she didn’t mind the stares so much.

  Finding the nurse hadn’t been as challenging as she had originally thought. There were only a few hospitals in the Ann Arbor area. And when they had contacted St. Joseph Mercy about patients complaining of discomfort after supposedly receiving pain medication, they discovered that an internal investigation was already underway. They had their suspect in less than an hour, versus the days of searching Sariah had anticipated.

  The woman sat behind the table, her forehead sweaty and her fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the arm of the chair. Her level of discomfort certainly seemed promising. She looked guilty enough. If Sariah had gone through Central Casting for a guilty nurse, they couldn’t have done better.

  Peering through the glass, Had spoke over his shoulder at Sariah. “She’s a jittery one, isn’t she? Check out her hands. It’s like she’s auditioning for a band.”

  “Pretty good sign, I’d say,” Sariah replied. “So far, she’s looking pretty good for this one.”

  Nurse Marissa Engstrom had a history of complaints that seemed to follow her wherever she went. This was her third hospital in two years, and the word from her two previous supervisors was not great. Numerous incidents of patient neglect, including situations similar to what they had found at St. Joseph Mercy’s—post-med pain. The consistent refrain? “She just didn’t seem to care.”

  But now the thirty-two-year-old nurse, who looked more like forty-two, seemed to care an awful lot. And what she cared about was getting the hell out of the police station. She pushed peroxide blonde locks out of her eyes and glared at Agent Salazar and his second-of-choice, Agent Marshall. Her movements were shaky.

  Officer Hadderly leaned in and whispered, “It should be you in there. You were the one that figured out the angle on finding her.”

  Sariah shrugged. Every time she’d had a difference of opinion with Agent Salazar, it had turned into something of a pitched battle. Salazar was a bit of a hothead, and Sariah was stubborn. So far, every single one of their skirmishes had gone to Salazar.

  It really wasn’t an even playing field, not with Salazar being more senior. But if she had spent her career waiting for things to be fair, she’d still be back at Quantico. You moved forward, torpedoes—or ass-hat agents—be damned. Hadderly looked back at their suspect.

  “Man, her nerves are really getting the better of her. Check out the trembling in her fingers.”

  It was true. Even the least experienced suspects tried to keep some kind of poker face on. And while maybe this woman’s expression wasn’t giving away much, her shaking and pallor definitely were. It was odd.

  “You can’t hold me here.” The nurse had stopped drumming on the table and was now jabbing her index finger in the air in front of Salazar’s face.

  “You are absolutely correct, Ms. Engstrom,” the agent agreed, his tone pleasant. The shaky nurse, caught off guard, sank back into her chair. Sariah had to give Salazar credit. He knew how to work a suspect in the interrogation room. “You aren’t under arrest. You can leave at any time.”

  “Well, then—” she said as she started to stand.

  “I do need to tell you, though,” Salazar continued, as if the woman had never interrupted him. “We have more than enough here for an arrest warrant. You could leave, but I’d have you back in custody almost before you left the building. So what say we just talk?”

  The nurse sank back down in her chair, but she clearly wasn’t done complaining yet. “I don’t know what you could possibly have on me. I haven’t done anything. And when your boss finds out—”

  “Oh, my boss knows what the story here is. If I’ve made a mistake, it’s his mistake, too.” Salazar spread out in front of her the copies of the letters some of her patients had sent in over the two years she’d been a practicing nurse. “That’s a lot
of unhappy customers you’ve left in your wake.”

  “Can I help it that I work in the geriatric wards? Old people complain about everything they come into contact with.”

  Agent Salazar laughed a belly laugh that Sariah found completely believable. If only he were this charming in person. The sound of his laughter seemed to catch the nurse off guard. She sat forward, her face puzzled.

  Salazar leaned in closer to the suspect, his tone conspiratorial. “Oh, don’t I know it. My abuela—my grandmother—used to complain about the chocolates I would bring her. She loved chocolates.”

  Ms. Engstrom made a face and muttered, “You’d get her the cheap stuff, huh?”

  “No, no, these were Godiva. Said they tasted like wax.”

  “So you know what I’m talking about?” the nurse whined.

  “You bet.” Salazar leaned back away from the nurse once again, picking the file up off the table. “Still… there’s some pretty specific stuff in here.”

  “What, did they complain about their catheters?”

  “Ha! Good one.” The agent chuckled. “But no. Nope. They were complaining about something a lot worse.” He nodded to Agent Marshall, who took out a list from the file and placed it before the suspect. “They said that they were still in pain, even after you reported that they had received their medication.”

  “I told you, they complain about anything. They weren’t in pain. They were just old and cranky.”

  Sariah watched as the nurse wiped sweat away from her brow. Much as it pained her to admit it, Salazar was doing an excellent job of interrogation, keeping things light while applying pressure. And it seemed to be working. The woman’s nerves were clearly getting the better of her.

  “Yeah, I would say the same thing. Totally.” Salazar shrugged and grimaced at her in apparent sympathy. “Except for one thing. They only complained when you were the one who gave them the drugs.”

  The woman gave no response, her leg twitching as she sat back in her chair. She rubbed at her wrists, chafing the skin with her fingers. Had tapped Sariah on the shoulder, pointing toward the suspect. He had a frown on his face, his brow furrowed.