by Rick Murcer
“It doesn’t matter, man. We’ll not be going, do ya hear me?” said Chloe, her voice rising. “You got to get better.”
Bowing his head, Josh suddenly looked up and set his jaw.
“You’re right, Chloe. He has got to get better. But even if he were one hundred percent and ready to go, it would be only him going. You’re no longer part of the BAU.”
CHAPTER-17
“Lily! Get your limping-ass moving. I got three orders up here,” hollered J.R. “For the love of God, you’d think you were out all night.”
She hurried to the food window and snatched the first two orders from the shelf, the smell of eggs, hash browns, and bacon making her stomach rumble. She’d not eaten since late yesterday afternoon and even J.R.’s greasy cuisine made her mouth water. That was all right. She had other appetites to feed and last night was the best so far. She had the videos to prove it. The grin was unstoppable.
“What the hell y'all grinning at?” J.R. asked, sliding another order on the crowded counter.
“I was just thinking about what you said, you know, about being out all night. At least one of us could get a date, ya know?” she mimicked the best smartass J.R. voice she could muster.
Playing the ‘normal’ game with J.R. was still something that she couldn’t ignore, at least for now. And she’d had a lot of practice lately. Working in her very own hunting grounds was exhilarating.
“You sayin’ I ain’t got sex appeal?”
Lily balanced the third order on her other arm, the glove-covered one.
“Out of the mouths of old men . . .”
She then turned to deliver the steaming hot platters to the fine people of Kure Beach, careful not to rush. Her leg was growing stronger every day. Still, it couldn’t be completely trusted, at least for this kind of action.
“Old? Damn whelp. You’re lucky I feel sorry for ya,” he called after her. She could hear something unveiled in her boss’s voice. Affection? Fondness? She hadn’t heard that since her father, her misguided father, had spoken to her that way. She guessed that meant she was getting on his good side. That never hurt. There were a million nuances to this next step in her evolution and playing the helpless, struggling waitress was just something else to file away until needed. Not to mention, playing on a man’s perception of the whole saving the damsel in distress myth. Fools. Men seldom knew when they were being played, except for the bright ones, but they were so busy thinking of how to work the small head that the one between their ears didn’t always function. That simply meant more good times for her.
Two more quick trips had all of the food platters in front of anxious customers. Five minutes later, she’d filled all the coffee cups and delivered more ketchup to the table in the corner, occupied by a younger man with long black hair and thick glasses masking his thin face. If she’d had an opinion on creepy, he might have fit the bill. Twice she caught him glancing her way. Her pulse began to rise. Maybe he wanted her like three or four of the others eating at J.R.’s this very moment. She felt more than saw their leering side glances directed her way whenever she bent over to bus a table or pick something up from the floor. She’d hesitate just long enough to turn up the dial on their individual imaginations. She could practically hear the blood rushing to their crotches. Amazing what predators learned about prey. But she tore away from the potential dates because she needed to address one situation at a time.
Grabbing another pot of black coffee, she moved to the table occupied by the scarecrow in man’s clothing.
“More coffee, baby?”
The man slowly raised his gaze from the table, lips quivering and anxiety flashing in his beady eyes.
“Ye-yes, please.”
She bent over, pouring slowly, showing generous cleavage. She felt his eyes go there, then dart away.
“Anything else I can do you for?” she said softly.
Damn. She was getting good at this.
Still looking down, his head began to nod. “I think so, but first, I think there’s something I can do for you.”
His voice had changed in a nanosecond. Interesting. He was far from nervous now and, she had to admit, she didn’t care for the tone. It made her uneasy.
“Well. I have to ask; just what would that be?”
“I know—”
At that moment, the door burst open and one of the regulars, a friend of Carl and Ginny Krantz, and a Kure Beach cop, rushed in. Moving straight to the kitchen, he motioned frantically to J.R. Her boss moved from out of the kitchen and stood close as the messenger whispered into his hairy ear.
She saw J.R.’s face immediately drain of color, and was fascinated. The cop must have told him about old Carl’s unfortunate demise . . . well, unfortunate for him.
She knew J.R. and Carl had played golf together. However, she had no idea his death would affect her boss like this. She found herself more than interested by his reaction and what it could teach her. School never seemed to be out of session. She absorbed this new knowledge like a proverbial sponge.
“Hold that thought, sugar. I’ll be right back,” she said to her strange customer and walked over to her boss.
“J.R., what’s the matter?”
He didn’t speak. Instead, he motioned to the man who had rushed through the door, encouraging him to repeat the news.
“Carl’s dead. One of Ginny’s people at the police station said he was killed in his bed last night. I hear it weren’t purty neither,” the messenger said, breathing hard. He steadied himself and continued. “She said he was cut up, like that Morgan kid was, and had a corkscrew twisted into his chest. That’s all I know.”
Doing her best impression of a shocked waitress, she put her hand on J.R.’s hairy arm. “Oh shit. That’s awful. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to clear out the diner?”
“No. Hell no. We still have a business to run,” he answered, attempting to hide the strain in his voice but not pulling it off.
This was delicious. She searched his eyes, feeding like a succubus on his ravaged emotion.
“You sure you don’t want to close?”
The small shake of his head accompanied by a brief closing of his eyes said no again. He spun on his good leg and limped back to the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind him.
The messenger turned to Lily and shrugged, but not before he got an eyeful of cleavage. “I thought I’d let him know because they were good golf buddies. The others in here can find out on the news.”
Then he exited the restaurant.
Taking in a deep breath, Lily was consumed by that “feeling” she’d had when she was getting intimate with her dates. It was beyond alluring how killing Carl Krantz could affect J.R. like this. She’d never focused on that before, but damn, it gave her a new high. The side-benefits of her dating habits wasn’t really the thing here, but it sure as hell didn’t hurt.
She glanced in the direction J.R had gone, then turned back to potential Date Number Four and poured more coffee.
“So you were saying?”
Looking up, his grin showed a few missing teeth and pale yellow remainders. “I suppose that was about old Carl, right?”
That uneasiness had returned. “How did you know about that?”
He sipped his coffee, staring at her chest. “You are a good lookin’ one. I see how you could get a man in a heap of shit.”
“Thank you, but answer the question.”
Turning the coffee cup in his long fingers, he stared directly into her eyes.
“I watched what you did to old Carl last night.”
CHAPTER-18
“You’re going, aren’t you?”
Chloe put her hand on Manny’s bare chest, careful not to touch the incision. Then thought about it and slowly ran her finger along the fresh scar. It was such a small thing, this scar, to accomplish what it had: saving her husband’s life, and hers, in its wake. No question that she would have never survived if Manny had checked out and left her alone. She may have wandered through
the rest of her natural existence, but her life would have been truly over.
Putting his strong arm around her waist, he pulled her closer so that her ear was next to his mouth. She felt his warm breath and thought she might faint. Good God, she loved this man. She’d never felt more safe than when they were together like this, in their bed, even at one o’clock in the afternoon. That was a side benefit about being booted from the BAU. Josh hadn’t gotten her assigned to another department just yet. She was sure he was delaying it as long as possible. He could be a class “A” butt, but he understood what she and Manny needed, and he was giving them just that—time together, at least a couple of days. Right now, she wanted to concentrate on that; they’d talk about the new assignment later. If truth was told, she was a little relieved. Being part of the BAU had been a great avenue to see Manny more often and the friends she’d made there were now her extended family, but she was getting a little tired of the sickos they chased after. Maybe more than a little. She didn’t know how Manny had done it for so long. But he was special, wasn’t he?
“Did I tell you how much I love naked Irish women?” Manny asked, releasing a smile she could feel, if not see.
“Ya, a couple of times. That’s why I didn’t stop what I was doing when you asked me not to,” she said, returning the smile. “And I better be the only Irish woman ya see naked.”
“Good point. I think more than one of you would kill me.”
“I don’t know about the other ones, but I’d kill ya dead. And ya didn’t answer the question, man, now did ya?”
His hand crawled up her hip and rested on her breast. She shuddered and moved closer to him. His touch would never get old . . . never.
“Remember when I came to Ireland and we stayed up until sunrise talking about who we are and how we had to be true to ourselves, and to each other? That changing people you love only worked in movies and novels?”
She stayed silent. How could she forget that? She’d fallen deeper with every word that had flowed from his incredible mouth. Her grown-up Boy Scout was the real deal.
“Josh and the others need my help and, not to mention, I need to get back in the saddle. I had a lot of hours to think over the last few weeks and it brought home the point, more than ever, that I can make a difference out there.”
“That’s true, ya can, but ya can make it for Jen and me by staying home a few more weeks.”
Manny patted her on her backside and moved away from her. She turned on her side and watched him sit on the edge of the bed as he ran his hand through his hair.
“I can see your crack from here,” she said.
He snorted and loosened the laugh that made her tingle.
“It’s not as nice as yours though,” he said.
“Don’t forget that.”
Moving to her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his back, kissing his neck.
“So what’s really bothering you is getting back in the saddle, as you put it, right?”
“It is. Now that Garity’s out of the picture, I’m not apprehensive about what he might have done concerning Jen and you. But I’m a little worried about how I’ll feel getting involved in another case. Maybe I won’t like it. Maybe I’ll miss things that someone else might catch. Maybe you and Jen are all I’ll think about.”
Rolling her eyes, she got up and sat on his lap.
“Ya, and maybe you’re full of shit. You were born to understand these people, to get into their heads, to feel what they feel, see what they see. And for crying out loud, you live for it. Jen and I am just a notch above that life . . . and we both get it. We want you to do that thing ya do, to quote a quote. The world needs the Guardian of the Universe. I just feel cheated out of the last seven weeks or so, and that makes me pissy.”
“Fair enough. But I think I can make it up to you, just don’t get pissed at me like you were at the security folks in the hospital,” answered Manny.
She hit him on the arm. “The dumb shits still haven’t heard the last of me about that one, and you’re too hot to get me to that state . . . and seven weeks in a few hours? You’re good, but not that good.”
He captured her eyes with his, and she thought she might melt. In fact, she may have, just a little.
“I love you Chloe. I’ll always be grateful that you were there when I needed you the most.”
She kissed him because she couldn’t talk. If anyone needed a lifesaver it was her, and he was far more than the lifeguard.
They fell back on the bed together, a greedy tangle of arms and legs and other body parts. She felt so alive. Strong. Safe in his arms. And sure that her life could not be better.
An hour later, she and Manny stood in the kitchen of the home that had belonged to Louise and him—the place they’d raised Jenny—drinking coffee and tea, talking, when, for the first time, Chloe felt a little like an outsider. Neither her step-daughter nor her husband had ever made her feel that way only, here was that feeling, just the same. She was about to confess her feelings to Manny when the doorbell rang and Sampson, the larger than life black Lab that seemed to run the house, barked so loudly that she jumped.
Manny looked at her. “Are you expecting company?” he asked.
“No. And don’t play dumb. You’re not the only profiler in this house.”
The door swung open and Alex and Sophie walked into the hardwood foyer. She saw Manny smile and move to greet them, then he stopped short as he read their faces.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
Alex shook his head. “No. They found a third body in North Carolina. Apparently the killer struck twice in the same night.”
“Two in one night?” Manny frowned, turned to Chloe, then back to Sophie and Alex.
Chloe knew that look. Her husband was already working.
“Damn. I don’t think I’ve seen that before with this kind of unsub,” said Manny quietly.
He glanced to Chloe again and she felt her heart sink, for more than one reason. He wasn’t just working; he was in full save-the-universe mode. That meant time away and worse, dangerous situations like the one or two that almost put him in the morgue. She looked to the floor and said nothing.
“Yeah? Well, that ain’t all,” said Sophie, pulling a DVD out of her pocket. “The locals got this yesterday. They sent a copy to Josh. Apparently we have an unsub with a special name. One she gave herself.”
Chloe looked up with quick understanding. Serial killers that gave themselves names were from a particular corner of Crazy Land. “What does that mean?”
“It seems that Aphrodite is alive and not really a myth,” said Sophie.
“Aphrodite? Really? The killer is female and she calls herself that?” asked Manny.
“She does,” said Alex. “We only saw the video once. She’s a knockout, and very bright, but we need to look at it more closely when we get to Wilmington. With all of us in the room.”
Manny stared at the DVD while running his hand through his hair. “This is extremely unusual. Kind of the weirdest of the weird. I need to see the video, but it seems like she’s stepping into a fantasy and confusing it with reality. That’s rare but, more than that, her thought process makes her extra dangerous.”
“Why?” asked Sophie.
Manny continued. “Two murders in a short span like that suggests she’s also highly impulsive and probably addicted to the feelings or actions that a specific part of this killing method brings her. If I’m right, she is going to need what that power brings her, often. And, if she videoed herself, maybe she . . .”
“. . . videotaped the murders,” finished Sophie. “Shit. I need a drink.”
Quiet tension flowered. Chloe hated how that felt and she wasn’t even working the case, but maybe what she’d told Manny about being born to profile was a little prophetic for her as well . . . .maybe this profiling world was a part of her too.
She let out a breath and then disappeared into the bedroom, returning with Manny�
��s black pre-packed travel bag, dropping it at his feet.
“You’ll be needin’ that, I suspect,” she said quietly.
Alex looked at Chloe, and then Manny, then Chloe again. He grabbed Sophie’s arm. “We’ll be in the truck.”
As Sophie and Alex reached the door, Sophie broke away from Alex and hurried to Chloe, throwing her arms around her. “ Don’t worry. I ain’t lettin’ nothing happen to him, got it?”
“Thanks,” she said softly, fighting tears, hoping that was true.
Manny was a lucky man to have friends like these. Not everyone does.
A moment later, Alex and Sophie were out the door.
“Chloe. I–”
She put her finger on his lips and hugged him fiercely. “Just watch your ass, Big Boy,” she whispered.
He sighed. “I’ll call Jen and I’ll be back in a few days, I hope.”
Nodding, she kissed him and walked into the other room. A few minutes later, the door closed, and she felt the tears caress her eyes. She immediately felt alone, more than alone. She felt almost abandoned. She’d just gotten him back and he was gone again.
So this is what cop’s wives live with.
But that wasn’t all. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was just over the horizon.
Life-changing awful.
CHAPTER-19
“Can you answer the question? Do you feel any remorse for the actions that caused you to be placed here?” asked Emma Holton.
Glancing up at her round face, Max Tucker nodded his head in the way repentant, broken people do. The way that revealed how he understood what he’d done had been wrong. That his idea of what the world is, or could be, was mistaken because it created pain and danger for others. He understood that his mentor had led him down a path that he saw as a method to get all he needed, and wanted. That his motivation was far from the norm. He’d wanted money. Respect. Appreciation. Status. But none of it was important when it came to exposing people to deadly harm. People were basically good and he’d had a responsibility to take care of them. He’d failed to do that. Yes, he was remorseful. He nodded his head in that way.
