Faces of Evil [2] Impulse

by Debra Webb

  Like a rag doll, she hung limply in his hold, let her head loll to one side.

  He shook her again, harder. “Pay attention, bitch!”

  She kneed him hard in the groin.

  His hands dropped away from her as he doubled over.

  She kneed him in the head. Knocked him onto the floor. She kicked him in the gut. In the back. “Mother fucker,” she growled as she kicked him again.

  He grabbed her foot and jerked.

  Lori lost her balance and hit the concrete floor flat on her back. The air whooshed out of her lungs.

  He scrambled to get on top of her. She got a choke-hold on his throat with both hands. Curled her legs up to keep his body weight off hers.

  They rolled. The chain rattled. Twisted up in her legs. He banged her head against the floor. She twisted her face to the right, clamped down on his forearm with her teeth.

  He screamed and cursed.

  She belted him in the jaw, shoved both hands into his chest. He toppled over. She was on top now. Her hands around his throat, she squeezed and pressed with all her strength. . . all her body weight.

  He flung her off. Shot to his feet before she could get up. He kicked her in the ribs.

  Her stomach seized. . . she lost her breath again. He sat down on top of her, his legs on either side of her waist, pinning her arms to her side. She squirmed. He bore his weight into her middle. Bile rushed into her throat.

  She surrendered. Too tired to fight anymore. He was too heavy. . . too strong.

  “Why isn’t Jess paying attention?” he demanded.

  She licked her lips. Tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t answering his stupid questions.

  “Answer me!” His scream echoed in the massive room.

  She managed a pathetic laugh. “Fuck you.”

  He rammed his fingers into her hair and banged her head against the floor. “Why. . . isn’t. . . she. . . paying. . . attention?”

  She stared straight into his eyes and repeated, “Fuck. . . you.”

  The back of his hand connected with her jaw. Her head snapped to the left and more pain roared through her skull.

  “Answer the question, detective.”

  She licked the blood from her lips and said nothing.

  He dragged down the straps of her bra. She tensed.

  He squeezed her breasts.

  Hard as she tried not to react, she felt her eyes widen with the fear of what he might do next.

  He smiled, took a deep breath. “You’re making me hard, detective.” As if to back up his words, he ground his pelvis into her.

  White hot rage crashed into her brain obliterating all else. “Why don’t you just go ahead and kill me, you sick bastard?”

  He smiled. “You know I can’t do that, detective.” He squeezed his thighs tighter as he leaned forward. His fingers fisted in her hair, he kept her head pressed against the floor. “If I do, Jess will never come play with me. You’re my bait.”

  Lori struggled to turn her face away from his.

  “I guess I’ll just have to send her another message. I think she’ll pay attention this time. She certainly has my attention.” He pressed his face closer to Lori’s. “She sent me a message, detective. Jess told me to man up. Can you imagine?” He released her hair, held his arms out in question. “What else does she want me to do to prove myself?”

  The woman. Lori glared at him. “Where’s the other woman?”

  He smiled. “She should be dead.” He sighed. “However, I may have underestimated the ability of her heart to continue beating after losing so very much blood.” He shrugged. “Bless her heart, she just didn’t want to die.”

  “You’re a sick piece of shit.”

  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your unkind words can’t hurt me, Lori Doodle,” he singsonged in a creepy child-like tone.

  He inclined his head to the right and studied her a moment, then cocked it the other way. “I have another question for you, detective.”

  She clenched her teeth. She would die before she helped this son of a bitch.

  “When the lungs are deprived of oxygen, do you know how long it takes for a woman of your age and physical condition to lose consciousness and subsequently expire?”

  Her body tensed, but she refused to allow him to see any other reaction to the threat.

  He waited a moment. When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “I suppose not.”

  His hand closed over her mouth and nose.

  Fear ignited.

  “Let’s find out.”

  12

  BPD, 10:00 a.m.

  Dan surveyed the group seated around the conference table in his office. He and Deputy Chief Black had already briefed the mayor. The leaders of the task force waited now for him to continue with what they didn’t have.

  No hits on the prints. No traceable evidence to anyone at any scene who wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “Belinda Howard was in no condition to tell us much last night. However, this morning she gave a somewhat sketchy statement to Agent Gant and Chief Black.”

  “Did she identify her abductor?” Harper asked.

  Like Dan, he wanted to know that answer first and foremost. Whoever had Detective Wells, Spears or not, the investigation needed to be focused on finding the right perpetrator. He felt confident in the conclusion he and Jess had reached last night. This perpetrator was either Spears or someone connected to him.

  Dan shook his head in answer to the question. “She was sedated for most of the time she was being held.” His frustration hitched up another notch. “At no time did she see Detective Wells or anyone else.” That news had been deeply disappointing. “The perpetrator approached her from behind at the house on Liberty Park Lane and injected the sedative. She remained unaware of her surroundings for most of the time she was missing. She has no idea where she was held or for how long. I’m sure you’re aware that the Ketamine used to sedate her can cause lapses in memory and hallucinations. Frankly, we can’t be certain what memories are real and what are imagined.”

  “Isn’t Ketamine what Spears uses on his victims?” Deputy Chief Hogan asked.

  “I’ll defer to Agent Gant to answer that one.” After all this was Gant’s briefing, too.

  Gant stood. “Ketamine is the sedative the Player uses on his victims, as do lots of other criminal types. It’s not an uncommon drug when incapacitating the victim is the goal. Let me state once again, for the record, gentlemen, we do not believe this is the Player and we have no evidence that Eric Spears is the Player.” He glanced at Dan. “As far as the drug, unfortunately, it’s available from all sorts of sources, including the Internet and on the street. The liquid Ketamine is somewhat more difficult to find, but it’s out there.”

  Dan opted not to let the man’s unnecessary point about Spears annoy him. “Howard,” he continued, “was not sexually assaulted. That is another element that sets this perpetrator apart from the Player.” No use leaving an opening for Gant to get in another dig. “Additionally, none of the Player’s known victims have ever survived an encounter with him.”

  “Clearly,” Agent Wentworth piped up, “Agent Harris is wrong again.”

  Dan didn’t like judging any person by their physical characteristics. But he’d made an exception this time. Being short, bald, middle-aged with generic black glasses and cheap suits gave Wentworth the undeniable look of a quintessential ass-kisser. Dan hadn’t liked him when they met yesterday and he liked him even less today.

  “Rarely,” Manning hastened to add, “does a serial killer deviate so widely from his MO.”

  Unlike Wentworth, Manning was well groomed and had the sort of physical traits that would make for fed poster boy of the year. Still, he had his head up Gant’s ass, too. Manning’s loyalty to the team was no different than his to Jess, Dan supposed.

  Jess, on the other hand, wasn’t speaking to him. Other than good morning, she hadn’t said a word since emerging from his guestroom.

  That he
intended to resolve. As soon as this briefing was over.

  The profile the Bureau had come up with was no better or different than the one Jess had spouted off the top of her head last night.

  “Agent Gant will provide the details of the profile he believes will assist in our investigation.” Dan sat down and let the man have the floor.

  Gant cleared his throat. “Thank you, Chief Burnett.” He surveyed the faces around the table. “We believe we are dealing with a copycat who, motivated by recent media attention, has latched onto the Player’s MO to the degree possible. He appears to have zeroed in on Jess Harris. The media attention that spilled over from the Player case to BPD’s recent investigation into the missing young women that included Harris’ involvement may have brought him here. We are still looking into the theory that this unsub is or was related on some level to the Player and has launched his own attempt at the game. His alleged resemblance to Spears cannot be accurately assessed at time. Considering the only element the two victims have in common is a connection to Harris, we feel confident that our profile is as close as can be reached with such limited information. I have provided a more detailed summary for each of you.”

  Deputy Chief Hogan gave a quick overview of the ground they had covered in the search and the disappointing results.

  When Hogan looked to Dan, he took it from there. “We will continue our search efforts. We believe, as Agent Gant said, that we are perhaps dealing with a copycat, but we’re not ruling out the possibility of Spears’ involvement. He will remain a person of interest if for no other reason than his striking resemblance to our perp. We’re hoping the media support will continue to make it difficult for the perp to reach out for another victim. The information flow is our strongest asset. Report anything you feel is even remotely unusual or out of place.” Dan pushed back his chair and stood. “Thank you for your time. Let’s get back out there and find Detective Wells.”

  As the others filed out, Deputy Chief Black lingered. “If possible, chief,” Black said, “I’d like to have a few more minutes of your time.”

  “Of course.” Dan closed the door and gestured to the conference table. A new development was more than welcome, though he doubted that was the reason for this private meeting.

  “I’m aware that Deputy Chief Harris’ credentials are stellar.”

  Dan held up a hand to stop the man. “Harold, I know the situation with the Bureau has been an absolute mess. But I can assure you that Jess is considering all avenues. She is aware that the perp we’re looking for may not be Spears or whoever the hell this Player is. She continues to support our investigation, which I don’t have to tell you is a true asset. But maintaining a low profile from this point forward is for her own safety.”

  The concerns of those in his department were not lost on Dan. With the events of the past twenty-four hours there hadn’t been time or opportunity to address those concerns.

  Black gave a single nod. “I’m sure she is doing her very best from a very awkward position. But that’s not what I wanted to discuss.”

  The frown that furrowed Dan’s brow added momentum to the dull headache building behind his eyes. “What’s on your mind then?”

  “There are some rumblings in the ranks about your choice of Harris for heading this new unit.”

  Damn. Dan had known that particular issue would come up sooner or later. He’d hoped for later. “This unit was created specifically with her credentials in mind. This was not a promotion opportunity that anyone in the department has missed out on. This unit might not have seen fruition at all had the occasion to bring her aboard not presented itself.”

  “I completely understand. But you surely comprehend how that might feel to some who’ve worked long and hard to reach a certain rank within the department.”

  “Are we talking about someone in particular?”

  “For example,” he hedged, “you’ve asked me to reassign both Sergeant Chet Harper and Lieutenant Valerie Prescott to the new unit. Prescott has twenty years of police work under her belt. I dare say her credentials rival Harris’, excluding the degree in psychology.”

  “And a dozen years of profiling for the Bureau,” Dan reminded.

  Black nodded. “True. But I sense the potential for resentment and I felt you needed to be aware. With things as they are, you have been somewhat distracted.”

  There was no denying that charge. “Is it your opinion that Lieutenant Prescott might prefer to remain in your division under the circumstances?”

  Dan should have seen this coming.

  “May I speak candidly?”

  As hard as he tried not to, Dan went on the defensive. “That is why we’re having this closed door conversation.”

  “Prescott will do well working with Harris once her initial resentment fades. But the rumblings department wide will only be exacerbated by any appearance of a personal relationship between yourself and Deputy Chief Harris. I’ve known you since you were knee-high to a grass-hopper, Dan, and I know your decision had nothing to do with anything beyond her credentials but we have to face the facts here. Our detectives aren’t privy to the same insights on the matter so they’re going to make judgments.”

  Dan compressed the ire that stirred. “So the rumor is that I gave Jess the job because of our history?”

  “I’m sorry to say,” he sighed, “but that is the case for the most part.”

  “We were kids, Harold, and that was a long time ago.” Dan would not entertain this nonsense.

  “But the talk is that she’s staying with you and though I fully understand the motivation for that decision, others obviously do not.”

  The ire erupted into full blown fury. “Deputy Chief Harris is, for all intents and purposes, in my protective custody. If anyone has a problem with that they need to see me personally.”

  “As I said,” Black reiterated, “I get that. But at your level, Dan, appearances carry a great deal of weight. You need to consider your actions closely. I tell you this because we’ve worked together for many, many years and I have tremendous respect for you.”

  Dan knew he was right, but that didn’t make him like it. Jess had made the same point. “I’ll deal with that when we’ve got Wells back and this case is closed.”

  “As we all should. In the meantime, I’ll do all I can to defuse the rumors. We don’t want this to get out of hand and jeopardize your reputations or this case as it goes forward.”

  “I appreciate that, Harold.”

  They stood simultaneously, both knowing that finding Wells wasn’t going to happen with them discussing department gossip.

  After Deputy Chief Black had gone, Dan settled behind his desk to plow through the pile of messages that had built the past week.

  He needed to check on Andrea.

  He needed to find Wells.

  At some point, he needed to figure out how to handle the situation with Jess.

  11:21 a.m.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Prescott, for taking the time to show me around.” Jess manufactured what she hoped was an appreciative smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

  Prescott was two years older than Jess. An attractive woman with fiery red hair and calm blue eyes. Her personal and professional lives presented with that same contrast. Suzy homemaker meets Dirty Harry. Prescott was married with three children, two in college and one in high school. In her late twenties, she had worked as a beat cop full time, gone to college part time and managed to raise her kids. She’d scaled the ranks in record time. She was one of the best detectives in the department.

  She was smart, hardworking and mad as hell that Jess had gotten this position, which would have been a promotion for her and about a half a dozen other detectives in BPD.

  That she had happily reported all of this to Jess meant one of two things. She either wanted to be honest and above board in their working relationship or she wanted to make Jess sweat.

  Whatever her motive, she had managed to do the latter with ha
rdly any effort.

  Jess wasn’t naïve enough to believe that this high level opportunity came without a price. She wasn’t surprised about that at all. What did surprise her was that the senior detective assigned to her had the brass balls to tell her to her face. For the most part, Jess appreciated and respected her candor.

  Prescott extended her hand. “I look forward to working with you, too, chief.”

  Jess accepted the gesture and wished the sentiment that went along with it was sincere.

  “I’ll contact you when we’re ready to have our first staff meeting.”

  Prescott gave her a nod and headed for the elevators at the other end of the corridor.

  Jess puffed out a breath. “Fun, fun.”

  “Chief Harris.”

  Jess turned at the sound of Harper’s voice. She had never been so glad to see a friendly face. She’d gotten the look from most everyone to whom Prescott had introduced her. The look colleagues reserved for gatecrashers. The one that guaranteed she wouldn’t be accepted as one of them in this decade.

  Jess grabbed Harper by the arm and ushered him into the main conference room and closed the door. “Sergeant, please tell me you have some good news.” Something! Anything they could use to find Lori.

  “The lab found several things.” He shrugged. “The usual dirt and dust stuff and,” anticipation sparked in his eyes, “grease and automotive oil. Well, he didn’t exactly say grease and oil, but that’s what all the science talk boiled down to.”

  Jess hated to burst his bubble but a person could get those same trace elements on their feet just walking down the street. She started to say as much but then she stopped. The abduction scenario played out in her head.

  “If he carried her out of the house,” Jess said, replaying the scene more slowly, “which would have been necessary with her sedated, he would have put her in his vehicle, driven to wherever he’s holding his hostages, then carried her or dragged her in.”

  “And if he dragged her,” Harper countered, “the trace evidence would have been contained to one area, not spread fairly evenly over the entire bottom of each foot.”