Murders of the Zodiac Boxed Set

by Paris Morgan

  “We can order something. I’d love to hang out with you and your fiancée. It’s always great to relax with others on the force.”

  “Great. It’s a date then.” Ryan waved as we continued past security without him.

  “Are we inviting your boyfriend over too?” Karen asked nonchalantly.

  “No. I thought we could have him over tomorrow for dinner and a movie. Unless that would make you uncomfortable?”

  “No, Luke’s spending some time with the girls at Sarah’s parents over the Easter holiday. We aren’t quite a thing yet, but we’re certainly moving in that direction.” A sigh of resignation escaped her lips. “I’ve been in love with him forever, and I think he feels the same way. He’s just feeling guilty, even though Sarah approved of us getting together.”

  “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to remind you.” I winced as I hit my elbow on the door trying to get into the car carefully.

  “He needs some time to heal and think about things. Once we caught Sarah’s killer, it helped. He’ll figure it out, but until then, I’m not calling or texting him. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s missing.” She gave me a smile filled with sadness.

  “I haven’t had a chance to discuss your impressions of Jerome since I always seem to be sleeping. What do you think of him?” We’d talked on the phone, but that was different than seeing someone under stressful conditions, like a road trip across the country.

  “He’s interesting. Not exactly someone I’d pictured you with when you said you’d met someone. He definitely likes you and is protective, and he so doesn’t like Ryan.”

  “I know, and I can’t figure out how to convince him that nothing is happening. Ryan is engaged, and I have no intentions of breaking up a marriage. And I wouldn’t wait almost twenty years while the guy marries someone else, hoping that he’ll notice me.”

  Hey, now, that’s not fair,” she protested. “I wasn’t waiting around for him. I was doing something I loved. I just haven’t found anyone else that works for me.”

  “Sorry, you’re right. It’s not nice to tease you about all the years you pined over him.”

  “Rain check.”

  “What?” I questioned, knowing what she meant. It was our code that she’d throw something at me later when she wasn’t driving.

  “When you least expect it, little sister.”

  “I’m injured. You can’t do that to me.”

  “Oh, so now you’re injured. I’ll be sure to let the FBI know that you can’t come back to work in the near future.”

  “Rain check back at ya.” I grinned. “I’ve missed hanging out with you because we always have such odd schedules. Phone calls are nice for catching up, but being in person is so much better.”

  “Agreed. Now, let’s get you to bed so that we can spend the evening having fun.”

  “Aw, do I have to?” I groaned.

  “Yep. Don’t make me drug you.”

  “Haha. All right, let me text a few people, and then I’ll be good.”

  “As long as you do it from bed, then I don’t care if your eyes are closed or not.” She parked the car in front of my house.

  “You’re such bossy person these days,” I accused.

  “Exactly. I’ve had training these past few months with Sarah and Luke’s teenagers. A firm tone and no negotiations help a lot.” She shrugged, unapologetic.

  I put the key in the lock, having more trouble than normal with my left hand.

  “Stay here,” she commanded.

  There was no use in arguing with her, so I leaned against the doorframe waiting for her to declare the house safe.

  When she walked back into the room, I headed to the bedroom and shut the door. I fumbled with the buttons but managed to get the sling and shirt off without help. I put my hurt arm through the holes of my tank top, and only groaned getting it over my head. It was one thing not to wear a bra to bed, but I wasn’t going without a bra and a shirt. Button-ups weren’t made to relax in.

  Propping my arm up on the pillow, I held the phone up so I could comfortably text with both hands.

  Leslie: Hey, you free tomorrow for dinner and a movie?

  Jerome: Sure, if you’re feeling up to it.

  Leslie: Yes. I may fall asleep during the movie, but it would be nice to see you.

  Jerome: Do I need to bring a sleepover bag?

  Leslie: It can’t hurt ;)

  Jerome: How are you feeling?

  Leslie: Tired, but that will get better after a few days. We didn’t sleep much the past few weeks.

  Jerome wasn’t responding, and I realized I’d used ‘we’ instead of ‘I’, meaning Ryan and I. Crap. He was so sensitive about that.

  Leslie: My body is used to long hours and a day or two without sleep, but these past three months have been terrible for getting a full night. You might have something to do with that as well.

  Jerome: Ah, so you’re blaming your sleep depravity on me, huh? Can’t get enough?

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t know why guys were certain that all we wanted was their bodies, but in his defense, that was his best asset.

  Leslie: Guilty as charged. I’m almost asleep now, so I’ll see you tomorrow?

  Jerome: I wouldn’t miss it. I can’t wait to make sure that you’re okay for myself.

  Leslie: We can’t do anything while my sister’s here.

  Jerome: We’ll just have to be quiet ;)

  Leslie: Hmph…maybe.

  My eyes were closing when I heard a last beep.

  Jerome: I can be persuasive and gentle since you’re injured.

  I let the phone drop next to me, knowing that we could go back and forth for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t comprehend it when I saw a picture flash across the TV screen of a woman standing next to a boat, the Taurus symbol painted boldly on the side as my eyes closed.

  Chapter 2

  Ryan

  I’d been restless ever since we’d come home from California days ago.

  This Zodiac Master had tried to kill two of my partners, and I couldn’t help feeling that I wasn’t doing enough. The FBI had tied my hands when we were out of state, and while Agent Watson had asked that I consult, it was little more than that. I was babysitting the agents until something popped up that they could move on.

  We’d both been given a leave of absence from our jobs to help the FBI, because when they asked local agencies for help, you didn’t have much choice. It was an unfamiliar place of limbo to be where I was wanted, but not really needed.

  As a cop and then detective, my life consisted of needing to be on the move and working. Leslie would have found a way to incorporate herself into each team and know how to work the situation to her advantage. She just had the personality for it, where as I tended to rub people the wrong way with my bluntness.

  It would only be a few days until she was able to talk the doctor into coming back to work. I’d been leery when she’d been thrown into my case because of her inexperience, but in just three months, I couldn’t imagine working without her. There were partnerships that were formed because of assignments, and then there were matches made in heaven that confirmed all that mumbo jumbo her friend, Flora kept spouting about watching the signs. Something had just clicked with Leslie, and I felt naked without her to watch my back.

  “Ryan, can you work with Agent Johnson and help him get the correct parameters in the computer?” Agent Watson caught me as I was leaving the break room with more coffee.

  “Sure, and Agent Johnson is…?” I asked, not remembering that name.

  “The kid Kevin, which helped out in California.”

  “Oh, he’s amazing. Which direction to his office?” I might not know anything about computers and how to make the things work beyond the basics, but I admired anyone that could make them sing with vital information.

  “He and the others are in the large room on the right, third door. I think if we can get some of the information from the last three cases in the system, then when the nex
t killer strikes, we might get a hit faster.”

  “When he put the information that Detective Boxe gave him into the computer, it was only minutes before he had it narrowed down and in a spreadsheet that we could analyze.” I hoped that I had something he could use.

  “That’s why I added him to the team. He can work magic with data and give us three different approaches with just a little bit of information,” Agent Watson commented as he headed down the hall to a different set of rooms.

  The room I walked into wasn’t what I’d been expecting; it was full of computers and technicians. Any self-respecting nerd would be in geek heaven, but I was completely lost.

  “Detective Fox.” A hand waved over the confusion. “Over here.”

  Kevin was surrounded by a few other agents who parted when I approached their desks.

  “Everyone meet Detective Fox. He’ll treat you like a real person instead of just an underling,” he introduced me with flair.

  I waved at the six agents gathered around us. “What are you working on, Kevin?”

  “Okay, I had a thought. We know from the profiles that the killers are males and females alternating, so I’ve run a list of people who fit the profile of victims across the country.” Kevin pointed to part of his screen.

  “And?” I prompted. “Wouldn’t that be millions of people for each month?”

  “A little less than thirty million people each month with a birthday falling in their sign’s range. When we take out the opposite sex, which narrows the field. Then we can also take out all those under forty years old and older than eighteen. So far, each killer has stayed within these parameters pretty closely. Each one has had an older one or two, but most of them have stayed under thirty,” Kevin explained with enthusiasm.

  “Kevin, for those of us that don’t work with numbers or statistics, what does all of this mean?”

  “Oh, sorry. When I get excited I tend to forget that I need to add more detail.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s more details that you need, or just a different set of details.” I frowned, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

  “All right. So, if we take out all the other factors, when the next set of murders start to happen, I’ve got the system programed to alert us if for any reason a male fitting the correct age range is found dead. I can use the alerts to determine if we have a pattern popping up within hours of it happening instead of waiting days for the police reports to trickle in.”

  I patted him on the back. “This sounds promising. What are some other ways that we can work with the information that we already have?”

  Now, it had all become clear why they wanted me to work with all of the groups, because no one could interpret all of the information if they only looked at one part of it. They needed someone to see the whole picture.

  “We don’t have access to all the police reports, and many times they don’t update the database until several days after the crime happens.”

  “True, but my program monitors all the reports that are put into the system from the moment a call is reported until they are actually put in the official report.”

  I bent over, pretending to examine the screen. “Kevin, is this legal?” I whispered.

  “Sort of. We have ways to monitor the systems, and while my program isn’t breaking any laws, it’s always been considered unethical for a number of reasons.” Kevin hadn’t even batted an eye when I questioned him.

  “What happens when we take this guy to court and they pull up that the only reason we found him was on illegal evidence?” I borrowed a chair from the desk next to his and took a seat.

  “These are new programs and don’t fall under any specific laws prohibiting this type of information. Criminals have been using programs like this for years to know when to have a street race or pull off a bank job. We’re just using it for good.” He grinned. “It’s in the testing phase. Technically, we have permission until the trial phase is over.”

  Shaking my head at the political red tape they worked with to help us find criminals was ridiculous.

  “Why don’t we do a search on those with Taurus birthdays? Then, if we don’t hear something in the first few days, we can use other measures.” I wanted to find this guy, but if we couldn’t prosecute him, then it wouldn’t matter much.

  “Actually, using zodiac signs has a lot more to it than just being born in the month of your sign. Certain years have meaning, and even different cities have different signs connected to them,” Adam Dalca spoke from just over my shoulder.

  “You kind of snuck up on me there.” I jumped up from the chair, acting guilty.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. There’s an exact science to some of the zodiac methodology. I gave Agent Johnson a list of known cities that match with the Taurus sign.” He pulled a chair from the desk behind us and formed a triangle of chairs.

  I sat back down, willing my heart to calm down. Nobody was going to make it into the FBI building without some major clearance.

  “You’ve devoted a lot time to the study of the zodiac signs and horoscopes?” I didn’t want to doubt him, but I still didn’t understand how someone could believe all of this stuff.

  “Too many aspects of the unusual. It’s an extra set of training for dealing with those who deal in the supernatural or the weird. Many people who fall under our Unique Crimes Division believe that the ghost of their uncle who talks to them is real,” Agent Dalca informed me.

  “Hmm. It’s just that you don’t hear about your UC Division very often. I’m curious as to how many of you there are?”

  “We have around a hundred on our team, working out of several field offices. We tend to have an office in the bigger cities, and then travel as needed depending on the crime.” He leaned toward me as he looked around. “Most of the regular agents and analysts call us the spook division.”

  “That makes sense. I just never realized there was a need for this kind of division. If we have something like this in one of our departments, most of the time we send in a psychologist for a psych evaluation.”

  “Ah, yes. What do you do with a perfectly sane psychic who can pass a psych evaluation without blinking?”

  “I’ve only met one psychic, and we didn’t deem her to be a hazard to herself or others. Why can they pass so easily?”

  “Well, they don’t believe they’re crazy, so their answers are normal. Most of them don’t claim to hear voices, and the chances for harm to themselves or others is very low. It’s just like someone who truly believes a lie can pass a lie detector test.”

  I mulled over his words, considering their validity. Flora certainly didn’t seem crazy, but she did have a connection to the cosmos that had been helpful.

  “How can you tell the difference between a real psychic or a fake one?” The question made me squirm because I didn’t want to doubt Flora’s sincerity, but I wasn’t sold on the truth of her claims.

  “Sometimes it’s a fine line. Others, they give themselves away from the beginning.” Agent Dalca grinned. “They try too hard to sell you on the information they have for you. A genuine psychic states the facts and lets you draw the conclusion that you want.”

  “So, even a real one is just a master manipulator?”

  “No, they speak the truth, but it’s up to you to listen and know the truth in your heart.”

  I frowned. “Sounds like you’re one yourself.”

  “I grew up around a few, and there is a distinct difference, but most people can’t tell because they want to believe no matter what garbage the psychic is selling them.”

  “Are you a gypsy? I hope I don’t offend you. I just don’t know much about someone who grew up with psychics,” I apologized. It was hard to ask genuine questions these days without getting accused of intolerance of other’s lifestyles.

  “Not at all. I was raised by a Romani family, but took a different path when I grew up. It’s the main reason that I’m on the UCU. I had a head start in dealing with unusu
al crimes that no one else wanted to touch. I can tell if someone is trying to fake something, or if it’s the real deal.”

  Agent Johnson had just been sitting there listening to our conversation. I’d almost forgotten about him until he mentioned the one thing I’d been avoiding—Flora.

  “Detective Fox got a call from a psychic lady that led us to Detective Boxe. If she hadn’t called, Detective Boxe would be dead,” Kevin piped up.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “I heard that you were acquainted with one, but didn’t realize that she’d played such a vital role in your rescue of Detective Boxe.” He pinned me with a searching gaze.

  “Well, I’m not one to put much weight behind all the mumbo jumbo, but when she called, it didn’t take much for us realize that Detective Boxe was missing. From there it was just solid police work and using what we knew to dismiss false clues.” I shrugged it off. Leslie was going to kill me herself if anything happened to Flora because of Kevin’s big mouth.

  “You don’t have to believe in it for it hold a place in your heart. We all take our cues from the world around us. That gut instinct you cops have is an extra sense that most people don’t listen to. Others call it their ‘Spidey sense’ that tells them when there’s danger. The universe gives us all signs, but we have to be paying attention for them to work.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to reserve judgement on that for the moment. You’re going to love talking to my partner because she would agree with you completely. Plus, the psychic is a friend of hers, and it’s one of those gray lines. She’s not committing a crime, so I have no need to arrest her.”

  I got up, unable to think about this anymore. Agent Dalca was nice, but this conversation was headed toward the outlandish, and I needed a full night’s sleep before engaging in this type of thing.

  “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m going to head home and catch up on some sleep before the next set of bodies start to drop.”

  “No problem. I understand completely.” Agent Dalca got up and replaced his chair. “If there’s ever anything that you need to talk about, just let me know.”