Bethany turned and hurried to the last room on the hall.
Kyle fired off a text to Supervisory Special Agent Ryan Brooks. With any luck his team had something for them to go off. Kyle wasn’t certain Roger would accept any outside help, which worried him. The detective wasn’t putting the right people first.
Kyle glanced at the door.
Was that what Isaac was concerned about? Did he think Kyle wasn’t prioritizing the right people because of his relationship with Bethany?
His phone vibrated with an incoming call from a number Kyle didn’t recognize, but it was a 757 area code.
Langley, Virginia.
“Hello?” Kyle pressed the phone to his ear.
“Kyle, this is SSA Perez and Mullins,” a man with a lilting accent said.
“Morning. Thanks for getting to us so quick,” Kyle said.
“The others had to handle another case, but Jade and I have prepared a profile of your man.”
“I also went through and organized some of the data into a timeline that shows his evolution points,” Jade’s familiar voice said.
“I am going into the living room with the rest of the team now. Putting you on speaker phone if that’s okay?” Kyle strode down the hall into the main room of the house.
Everyone was clustered in the kitchen or at the table.
Kyle grabbed a ceramic bowl off the bar and placed it in the middle of the dining table. He then flipped his phone to speaker and put it in the bowl. The acoustics wouldn’t be great, but it would amplify the volume enough for everyone to hear.
“Okay, go ahead. We’re all here.” Kyle slid into a seat next to Bethany and across from the other two. He reached over and grabbed Bethany’s hand under the table.
“Let’s start with what we know,” Mullins said. “Based on the victimology, where these attacks happened, we would have guessed this was the work of a white male which video has backed up. He’s smaller in stature, which accounts for why he had to keep his victims restrained. It also makes sense why he’d lay in wait for his targets to surprise them. A guy this small, if a woman had any kind of warning he was there, she could fight back and get away. He’s well organized. He plans.”
“He could also have been mistaken or charged with stalking, considering his amount of preparation,” Jade chimed in.
“We have a couple different theories about him that we cannot prove, so this next bit is speculation,” Mullins cautioned.
“The cycle, every one or two years, but no more than three, it could be based on some sort of traveling system. He may only visit the Seattle area to kill,” Jade said.
“Or, he could be local and it takes him that long to select victims and his dump sites. The sites are important to him.”
“We’ll touch on that later. Let’s talk about the victims.”
Kyle glanced at Faith then Megan. Their grim, pale faces were braced for bad news.
“The ladies are with us,” Kyle said before Jade went any farther.
“Oh... This might be a bit much for them to hear,” Mullins said. Unlike Jade’s matter-of-fact tone, his had warmth to it.
“We’re good,” Bethany said, her voice steady.
The other two nodded.
“Okay.” Jade cleared her throat. “Looking at the victims it’s hard to see any connection besides age—late twenties, a few early thirties—and that most of them were on their own without family. He hasn’t stuck with one ethnicity, height or look. I’m not sure body type matters to his need to kill as much as it does his ability to manage the victim. The tip Megan gave us about the masks may be the clue that pieces these together. Previous autopsy reported a synthetic fiber, like from a wig, in some of the victim’s hair.”
“The wigs—they had hair.” Megan leaned forward. “It was a sort of strawberry blonde.”
“Which matches with what has been found on other bodies,” Mullins said.
“It would also account for the small amount of trace DNA some of the women shared. If he uses these same masks on each victim there is transfer from one to the other. It would also explain why there was next to no DNA on the bodies. The masks would keep that transfer from happening,” Jade said.
“I don’t understand,” Faith whispered.
“She means when I wore the mask and he hit me, some of the girl before me’s blood got on me,” Megan said.
“Oh, my God.” Faith pushed to her feet. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, here. Come over this way.” Felix guided Faith into the kitchen and thrust a cup of coffee into her hands.
“I’m sorry, this is going to be disturbing,” Mullins said.
“Keep going.” Kyle squeezed Bethany’s hand.
So much for not talking.
“The masks could play into his chosen dump sites,” Jade said.
“We’re thinking someone in his life was a performer. A singer, dancer, actress. It could account for the three kinds of locations he looks for. This is a guess on our part based on Megan’s account,” Mullins said.
“My guess is a female family member. A mother figure since Megan said he spoke to her as mom,” Jade said.
“Why? I don’t understand that connection.” Kyle couldn’t see how that fit into the puzzle.
“Again, this is disturbing,” Mullins cautioned.
“Because the only victim who’d had sex recently enough to still have DNA was the first one. Usually with men like this, they have a preferred way of showing their dominance to their victim. Now, typically with someone like this we see these attacks as a way of asserting sexual power. But none of this unsubs victims show evidence of rape. That leads us to the next option, which is that the original focus of his rage is someone he would not want to have sex with. A family member. Someone how exerted control over his life and possibly abused him. All the victims have defensive wounds on their forearms. It could be that part of the ritual is freeing their hands.”
“Hurting people hurt people,” Bethany whispered.
“The one thing we don’t know, and that your team might help us figure out, is what connects the victims?” Mullins asked. “If we can figure that out, we may be able to identify his trigger, what happened to set this all off.”
“I’ve made lists of keywords family and friends used to describe earlier victims. The ones from the last ten to fifteen years have digital footprints we can review,” Jade said.
“It’s also worth considering that the personal connection to Megan makes this instance different,” Mullins said.
“You mean how her father helped cover up the killer?” Kyle studied Megan’s face, looking for alarm.
“Yes,” Mullins replied. “There are a few statements he and the Chief of Police made over the years that the killer hadn’t resurfaced. That could have focused him on Megan now that she’s the right age.”
“It could also be a coincidence, but I find that highly unlikely,” Jade said.
“You said before the others, they weren’t close to their families?” Megan asked.
“Correct. One of the first theories floated back in the nineties was that the killer was attending group therapy sessions at community centers and churches to find his victims, but nothing ever came of that.”
Bethany and Megan shared a look, one of those that defied understanding and yet they knew exactly what the other was thinking.
“The three of us met on a Facebook group about cutting off ties with family,” Megan said.
“They did one of those, where does everyone live? posts and we all responded Seattle,” Bethany said. “But...that was—what? Two, three years ago?”
“He has clearly been watching you three for some time,” Mullins said.
“That’s all we can tell you without more to go off. I’m sorry it’s not more,” Jade said.
“It’s great. It’s more than we had.” Kyle squeezed Bethany’s hand again.
“We’ll send a copy of everything to Detective Blew. Hopefully it gives you some leads?” Mull
ins said.
They said their goodbyes and ended the call.
Kyle wasn’t sure what he’d hoped they would learn from all this. There wasn’t a magic key that unlocked the mystery. They had just as many questions as before if not more. And still no way to figure out how to keep Bethany and the others safe.
16.
SUNDAY. AEGIS GROUP Safe House, Seattle, Washington.
Jay pulled his SUV up behind another one of the flashy news vans.
Wasn’t this fun?
He grinned and tugged the baseball cap lower.
After a night of no sleep, switching cars, aimless driving, he’d hit on a hot tip.
Someone knew where his girls were, and they were talking.
Ten or so years ago Jay had traded fake business cards with some journalists. At the time it had amused him to talk tips with the people reporting on his trophies, knowing they were clueless about Jay’s involvement thanks to the City Council President. He really owed Elijah Hunt a debt of gratitude there. He’d taken the heat off Jay for twenty years.
Today those journalist connections were paying off.
Someone had shared the location of Elijah Hunt’s missing daughter. The whispers were that it was from the same source who’d said that a twenty-year-old cold case might be wrapped up yesterday. Could they be connected?
Jay had laughed when he read the chatter. This was too damn perfect.
He gathered the tools of his pretend trade and got out.
Most of those taking up sidewalk space were from TV stations, but there were a fair amount of other people milling between the camera setups.
Jay strolled toward the first cluster of crew and talent.
When he’d picked Megan, her father had factored into the picture.
Elijah Hunt had taken the spotlight off Jay, just like some pompous big wigs had taken it from Mom and made their lives hell. When Jay killed Megan, they wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet any longer, and then people would know about Jay.
Well, not his name. That wasn’t the plan.
He’d never forget waiting for his flight home and passing people reading about him in the newspapers. Those big, bold headlines.
It was the attention he wanted. That was his due.
Jay was going to become an even bigger star than his mother.
“What’s going on?” Jay pasted on a smile and edged his way into the group.
A dark skinned man with a pair of headphones around his neck turned toward Jay. “We’re considering placing a bet on how fast it takes Elijah Hunt to show up. Want in?”
“What’s the pot at?”
Jay listened to the banter. Most of these guys were crew, behind-the-scenes guys. They shot the bull for another few minutes before the conversation lulled.
“Has anyone come out of the house?” Jay asked.
“Nah,” the guy with headphones said.
“That asshole from the cable network went through the back yard earlier, then ran out. We caught a glimpse of some big, scary bodyguard type dude, but that’s it,” a guy holding a digital video camera said.
“Damn.” Jay sighed.
His girls were not going to enjoy this attention.
Megan did everything possible to stay away from her parents. Her dad was the ham, not her.
Bethany was extremely careful about how much information she put out into the universe. She lived in fear of her family and ex-boyfriend finding her.
Faith was still dodging her husband. In fact, Jay was fairly certain even the other women didn’t know she was still married.
All three were hiding reasons to stay out of the spotlight.
If they drew too much more attention, they’d run. Their survival instincts would kick in and it wouldn’t matter how many bodyguards or locked doors they had, they’d run. It was the same every time.
“Anyone walked the block? Tried to get a better angle or a neighbor to talk?” Jay asked.
“Not that I know of,” the guy with the head phones said.
“I think I’ll give it a try.” Jay turned and strode down the sidewalk.
They were in that house, but with all those eyes on it they were inaccessible to him. He was going to have to flush them out somehow.
There was only one thing they all three collectively feared. Right now Megan was the only one dealing with her identity made public. The other two women were unknown to the media.
He rolled his developing plan around in his mind as he made the circuit of the block and back to his group of behind-the-scenes guys.
“Hey, did you hear about the new theory?” he said, breaking into the conversation.
“No, what’s that?” the guy with the headphones turned toward him.
“I’ve got a guy in records who has been helping that detective out. He’s pulling all the old Triple Threat files.” Jay tucked his chin and lifted his brows. “I also heard Megan Hunt’s two roommates are being kept here as possible targets of the same guy.”
“Wow, wow, wow.” The camera guy held up his hand. “Yesterday they were saying a high profile cold case was close to being solved.”
“Doesn’t get more high profile than the Triple Threat,” Headphones agreed.
“How credible is your source?” Camera asked.
“As credible as an off-the-record source can be.” Jay shrugged.
The vibe changed instantly. This was a lead they’d all want to break first, the question was—who’d do it? Who would go live and say those kinds of things without evidence?
The camera man was the first to turn, but once he headed toward his talent, the others scattered.
This was it.
Jay tucked his hat down lower and turned toward his SUV. His work here was done, now to sit, wait and see where the girls bolted to.
THE PIZZA SAT COLD on the plate. Bethany couldn’t touch it. She couldn’t take her eyes off the TV. Every hour it seemed this nightmare only got worse.
Wasn’t this what Kyle was supposed to protect them from? All of this?
The bedroom door opened and Faith stepped in. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and changed into jeans and a tank top.
“Is my dad gone?” Megan asked. She sounded tired. Exhausted. The only good thing was that her fluids were good, and she was getting stronger. The rest would take time.
“Yeah, he finally left. I thought Kyle was going to let him in for a minute there, but he held his ground.” Faith took up her spot on the edge of the bed.
“Fucking asshole,” Megan muttered. “He doesn’t give two shits about me, you know? It’s all about how he can use this to further his career. Make himself look better. He wants to be Mayor next, you know?”
Bethany and Faith shared a look. Since they’d discovered who Megan’s family was, she’d opened the floodgates and informed them about all the interesting details. Her father’s mistresses. Her mother’s stints in rehab. The dirty doings that happened behind the scenes. Bethany couldn’t imagine what it’d been like growing up in that world.
“How’s it look out there?” Bethany asked to change the subject. She didn’t want to peak outside. If she looked, it would be real.
“Crowded.” Faith grimaced.
The commercial ended and the news anchor reappeared.
“This hour we’ve got more about the return of the Triple Threat Serial Killer and his intended targets, Megan, Bethany and Faith. Stay tuned.”
“What?” Megan screeched.
Bethany stared at the big, block letters.
“They know my name? They know my name. Oh, my God.” Faith pushed to her feet and began pacing.
“When did they make that connection?” Bethany swallowed.
Up until now the coverage was about the heroic rescue of Megan by Seattle’s finest. There wasn’t a shred of truth behind what was presented as fact, and none of them cared. The lies hid them.
“This is all my dad’s fault,” Megan said. “I fucking hate him.”
“This is your fault
. You should have told us,” Faith snapped. “You should have told us who your family was. What they’d do. I can’t—he can’t find me. I can’t go through that again.”
“Really? Just me? Not you, too?” Megan’s laser glare focused on Faith.
“Megan—stop. Faith—take a breath, please?” Bethany didn’t know which roommate to go to first.
Faith paced, her hands fluttering at her side. Her usually pale complexion was ashen and gray. Terrified.
Bethany had to do something to make this work. They hadn’t asked to be targets. Megan never wanted to be a victim. They all wanted their privacy and secrets, but that option was of the table.
“Guys. Our agreement when we moved in together was to cut the past out and move forward.” Bethany prayed they could hold it together. This was the strain Kyle had warned her about. “We promised we wouldn’t ask questions about our pasts. That was what we came into this friendship agreeing to. We can’t blame each other for that.”
“That’s when I thought we were all normal people. A politician’s daughter isn’t normal.” Faith glared at Megan.
“Chill out, guys. Come on, this isn’t the time to fight with each other,” Bethany pleaded.
“This hour we want to learn a little bit more about the daughter of the City Council President,” the newscaster said, breaking through the tension. “Bethany and Faith are supposedly at risk with their friend. We’ve asked friends and family to tell us a little about them.”
Friends and family...
Bethany’s heart beat in double time.
The closet was looking rather appealing right about now. Would anyone look for her there?
“Oh...no...” Faith’s voice cracked.
An image of a man Bethany had never seen before filled the screen. Whoever he was, the news crew had caught him behind the wheel of what looked like a car. Someone thrust a microphone in his face. From the bleary eyed look, he hadn’t been awake that long. His shirt was stained, and he had a beer can in the only hand they could see.
“What is your relation to Faith?” a man off camera asked.
“Turn it off,” Faith pleaded.
“She’s my wife,” the man said.
My wife.
Dangerous in Charge Page 19
