Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1)

by Nancy Alexander

  Although serial killers usually live solitary lives, stalk and kill their prey alone, there have been some exceptions. The MSTF decided that these killings were being done by a small group, probably three men and dubbed them ‘The Gang’. Because the crimes showed specific individualized preferences and patterns, they concluded that there was one dominant male and two submissive males who for unknown reasons agreed to the assault and killing pattern that met their leader’s needs. The MSTF thought that other crimes, armed robbery, drug dealing and car theft probably had accompanied their killings, as it was unlikely that any of them were gainfully employed, given how much they moved around. They needed to get money somehow, so petty thefts and small store robberies were the most likely means. Based on evidence found at camp sites near where the victims were found, it appeared that ‘The Gang’ spent time in the woods primarily consuming food bought at convenience stores or drive-thru’s. The MSTF decided to focus on crimes reported along the travel routes between the killing sites, thinking that the killers may have been more ‘lax’ when carrying out these lesser crimes they decided those crimes might lead to the killers’ identities. Given the amount of control the leader appeared to have over his followers, the BAU suggested that the gang members had been together for many years before they began their crime spree. There was no evidence to support the idea that these crimes were politically, religiously or racially motivated. They concluded this was a gang led by a sexual sadist who controlled his followers by intimidation.

  Members filed out of the meeting, coffee cups and notebooks in hand, men and woman from various agencies. Each law enforcement professional was assigned to work with a team based on three main areas of interest.

  Team 1: The Victim Study Team- was tasked with learning everything possible about each victim, including the 5 victims who had been kidnapped but not killed and the victim of the attempted kidnapping, examining their lives, looking for commonalities between the women and trying to discover not only where and how they would have encountered these killers but why they had been spared a death sentence.

  Team 2: The Related Crimes Team – would concentrate on other types of crimes looking for patterns and links between those crimes and the killings. These would include robberies at gas stations and liquor stores, as well as auto theft and armed robberies. All crimes would be considered no matter how petty, if they fell within the geographic area and time frame in question.

  Team 3: The Gang Profile Team - would be developing in-depth psychological profiles of the killer/s including their group dynamics based on crime scene evidence and the behavior pattern of each crime. They would develop theories about the killers, their group dynamics and their roots in the community.

  Each team, consisting of 4 members, was assigned space equipped with desks, computers, faxes and phones. All had access to central database information. Passions ran high as agents talked together espousing favorite theories and favorite outcomes. After a thorough review of the crime scene pictures and evidence, the teams were fired up for the hunt. Task Force members were committed to working 24/7 to bring these killers to justice. They had been set in motion and were ready to go.

  CHAPTER 12

  COFFEE BREAK

  They sat at a table in the back of the crowded deli. The room was alive with people chatting across small tables or into their cell phones, reading newspapers or clicking away on multi-sized keyboards staring into multi-sized screens. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scents of pastrami and kosher hot dogs. In the background kitchen staff yelled out orders for pick up:

  “Rueben and fries, 2 Coney Island Dogs - kraut and fries,”

  “Greek Salad, dressing on the side”

  “Powerhouse wrap on tomato basil.”

  As they sipped Cappuccinos and shared a slice of warm coffee cake, Tanya asked, “So you doing any better now?”

  “I’m still shaky,” Gina responded.

  “So what happened in the O.R. yesterday?” Tanya asked. “That was really freaky. You scared the hell outa me,” she said shaking her head, “I didn’t know what was going on with you.”

  “Do you think anyone else noticed?” Gina worried.

  “Well, we all saw you leave, that’s for sure, but most people seemed unfazed about it, like you were just going to get cleaned up. No one said anything, at least not to me, they didn’t. I’m sure that’s what people thought,” she reached over and patted Gina’s hand. “Now, tell me how you are doing with those memories or whatever it was freaked you out.”

  “I’ve been having bad nightmares and these memories are coming up and scaring me half to death. I have these horrible flashbacks about things I don’t remember but I know they are real. And I can’t shake the feeling that I’m in danger. I don’t know if it’s real danger or past danger that I’m feeling again. I don’t know if I’m going crazy or what’s going on with me,” Gina explained.

  “Were you able to see your therapist last night? What did she have to say about all this?” Tanya asked.

  “She says it’s PTSD and that makes sense with the nightmares and flashbacks but the problem is I’m not sure how ‘post’ it is. I have this strong feeling that the danger is real and that’s another thing that’s freaking me out. I can’t put my finger on what and why exactly but it’s a creepy feeling that got triggered somehow and I just can’t settle down.”

  “Don’t you know what the memories are from? I mean can’t you remember your early life? I know you never talk about it or anything but I just assume that you remember it like everyone else does,” Tanya sipped her drink and looked carefully at her friend.

  “I don’t actually not all of it,” Gina shrugged “there are lots of things that I don’t remember about my childhood. Time gaps, you’d say. I know some really bad things happened and I think I just forgot them, you know repressed or whatever it’s called. It’s those gaps that are creeping in and freaking me out.”

  “So,” Tanya said leaning closer and lowering her voice, “you think some bad things happened that you don’t know about?”

  “Yes, actually, that’s right. And now I’m worried you’re going to think I’m crazy, I probably said too much to you about this already,” Gina said pulling back in her seat.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Tanya leaned across the table to hold Gina’s hand, “You’re my girl, girlfriend; nothing’s going to get in the way of that. I’m just trying to understand what you’re saying. You've got one of the best memories I’ve ever seen. You remember lab reports and test dates and dosages and stuff better than any doc on the service. I just can’t get my head around you having memory issues,” Tanya replied.

  “This isn’t that kind of memory,” Gina told her, “My shrink says that trauma memory is in a different category altogether.” Then she grinned at her, “You just like to think I’m perfect, Tan, I guess I’ve got you fooled.”

  “Well,” Tanya added, “To be perfectly honest it scares me to think that some things happened to you that were so bad you’d have to forget them.

  “It scares me too,” Gina admitted, “I’m trying to put my life together in some kind of sequential order but that’s been hard.”

  Tanya frowned slightly and said, “You don’t know exactly how you got from there to here, right?”

  “That’s right. I know some things but not everything.”

  “Tell me what you do know, OK? Maybe just talking about it will help you remember,” Tanya said giving Gina’s hand a little squeeze.

  Gina stirred her coffee and glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time, Tan, but I’ll try.” The crowd was thinning out, so no one was anxious for their table. She began, “The short story is that I’m starting to remember details of something bad that happened when I was 14. That’s been haunting me because things I don’t remember are jumping out at me when I least expect it.”

  Tanya moved closer and asked, “So is your therapist trying to help you get to those memories?”

 
“Yes, but if I don’t remember them then I can’t talk about them, right? The memories are coming up on their own right now,” Gina explained.

  “So go ahead,” said Tanya, “what did you do after the bad thing happened?”

  “I don’t recall the exact details but I know I ended up at my school counselor’s house, that’s Mrs. Goodwin I’ve mentioned her before. She took me in and then later I moved in with a foster family in North Carolina.”

  “Oh, right,” Tanya said “You did tell me you’d lived in North Carolina. How long did you live there?”

  “I moved in with my foster family, the Bakers when I was 14 and lived with them till I graduated from college.”

  “Oh wow,” Tanya said, “that was a good long time. Sounds like you really got along with them.”

  “I did, they were wonderful. That family helped me in so many ways. They were kind and loving. They encouraged my schooling, they introduced me to religion; they did everything… I just can’t even tell you all the things they did for me,” Gina’s eyes filled with tears. “I am who and what I am today because of that family.”

  Tanya listened attentively, her warmth and concern evident on her face and in her voice. She settled back as if she had nothing to do in the whole world but sit at this table and listen to Gina. “That’s amazing, sugar, tell me more.”

  “Unlike my own family, the Bakers encouraged achievement in school and involvement in the community. Both of the Bakers worked. Mr. Baker was an accountant for a local firm and Mrs. Baker worked as a nurse in a General Practitioner’s office. When I was 16, she got me a job there in the Doctor’s office. That was my first real exposure to medicine ‘cause my family didn’t believe in getting medical care and I had never even seen a doctor before I moved in with the Bakers. First I worked there as a ‘go-fer’ but as secretaries or receptionists were off work for one reason or another, I filled in for them. It turned out that I was really good at all those jobs.”

  “Of course you were,” Tanya added her face glowing with pride, “You’re good at everything!”

  Gina grinned, “You’re biased, Tawny, you think that now, but you didn’t know me then. I wasn’t self-confident; I didn’t think I could do anything. I didn’t know I was smart. I had no way of knowing that. The doctor, Dr. Bennett could see I was interested in medicine. He was the first one to suggest that I become a doctor. He took me under his wing, explained certain conditions and procedures to me, found I picked things up quickly. Then he created a little job for me as his researcher. He would ask me to find out about specific problems and treatments, read articles in his medical journals and copy things I thought he should read. Doctor Bennett and I started to meet regularly to review the research projects I was working on for him and that evolved into a little lecture series. He explained about biology, the main body organs, bacteria, germs and viruses. I learned a lot from him. He was really supportive of my going to medical school. Mrs. Baker agreed with him, given my interest in science and math they said I’d be a natural. Plus I was a straight ‘A’ student.”

  At first the idea of becoming a doctor was appalling. Me become a doctor? No! That was beyond my comprehension. I was a just farmer’s daughter. No one in my family had even finished high school let alone college and well, medical school that was impossible! When in my senior year of High School, I was accepted for early admission to college and granted a full scholarship I nearly fainted! It was perfect. I lived at home with the Bakers and four happy years later I graduated from the University of North Carolina in Asheville with a 4.0 GPA. I applied for and was accepted to the University of Chicago Medical School on a full scholarship.”

  “What an amazing story!” Tanya said. “What a fabulous family! They totally believed in you and launched your career! Seriously amazing!”

  “I know. I really miss them,” Gina added sadly.

  “Why can’t you get in touch with them now? You could do that now, couldn’t you?” Tanya asked.

  Gina shook her head. “That’s the problem. I can’t see them or contact them at all. I haven’t had any contact with them since I left for Medical School.”

  Tanya’s expression turned quizzical, “How come?”

  Gina shrugged and looked at her watch. “We’re going to be late, hon, we’ve got to get back to the hospital. Let’s talk about this later, OK?”

  But Tanya was insistent, “Just answer me that one thing, why haven’t you been in touch with that family you love so much?”

  “Because I can’t risk putting them in danger,” Gina sighed. “I can’t risk him tracking me down there and hurting them.”

  “Him?” Tanya frowned.

  Gina blurted out “My nemesis…my tormentor…my rapist….my would be killer…. He’s still after me. I know it!”

  Tanya dumbstruck uttered, “What did you say?”

  “Come on Tan, we really have to go let’s talk later.”

  “Wait a minute, you can’t just drop that killer thing on me and expect me to drop it!” Tanya stopped gathering up her things and stared at Gina who said, “Not to forget it, just push it aside for a while. Really we’re late and we’ve got to get back to the unit.”

  “When exactly are we going to talk about this killer thing?” Tanya refused to move without an answer.

  “Let’s take the kids out for pizza tonight and we’ll talk after they go to bed,” Gina suggested tossing cups in the trash can, “Does 6 work for you?”

  CHAPTER 13

  THE FOCUS

  The two lawmen sat elbows on the table facing each other. They were tough and smart and sizing each other up. The clatter of plates and the smell of hamburgers and fries filled the space around them. They could hear orders being shouted back and forth across the pass-through between the kitchen and the dining area. Waitresses in pink uniforms with white aprons hustled about with trays of food and drinks. On the counter displays of homemade cakes and pies sat on raised plates with domed lids. Gus’s Diner was one of the town’s most popular spots for homemade desserts. Also featured was the usual homey fare, eggs and bacon for breakfast, hamburgers and fries for lunch and the fried chicken special for dinner. Food wasn’t much on their minds, as they drank their coffee and watched each other.

  Calling in the FBI had been a big step for Chester, but he knew this was bigger than the Putnam County Police Department. Once he recognized these killings spanned a multi-state area and the Task Force pooled their information, he knew it was a crime for the FBI.

  “They gotta have roots around here somewhere,” Chester was saying. “Two out of five is higher than average, don’t ya think? The first and most recent victims were from around here. That can’t be a coincidence. These guys are locals, I’d say.”

  Lou nodded thoughtfully. Listening was one of his best qualities. He listened and absorbed while those around him chattered away. Chester continued, “How about if my department focuses on just this area, you know Putnam County area.” He wanted to talk privately with the lead FBI guy, this Lou Fairmont. He seemed like a nice enough guy; a no bullshit kind of lawman. Chester could get with that. He watched Lou check his cell phone, frowning as he sped through messages. Lou Fairmont had worked for the FBI his whole career and had been with the BAU for the last fifteen years. Originally from rural Ohio, he had grown up in a ‘Mainline Protestant’ family for whom religion was pivotal. Lou’s father had two main interests: Farming and church-going. Both required a strict schedule with no deviation. Those were the rules. You got up at 5AM and started your farm chores; you went to prayer meetings every Wednesday and Friday night and Sunday was G-d’s day when you went to church from morning to evening. Louis Bedford Fairmont was the middle child of 9 boys and 2 girls born to a kind but tired mother who spent her life raising her children and cooking or sewing for her family. Very little emotion was tolerated in the Fairmont home. Every blessing or tragedy was G-d’s will and accepted without question, joy or undue grief. Violence was a sin and any expression of anger was forbidden. Oth
er kinds of emotional expression were also inhibited. Joy was restrained. Happiness was for little children. Pride was sinful. Affection was rarely shown and never in public. Even hand holding was considered too intimate unless it was necessary to keep track of a child. Touching occurred only when necessary to care for someone who was young, old, ill or infirm. Children were taught to remain quiet and adults spoke rarely and only when practical matters needed to be addressed. Dancing was prohibited; music curtailed unless it was church music and laughter was frowned upon. The family atmosphere was polite but repressed and very task-focused. Children were commended for completing farm tasks, learning bible and getting good grades in school. Obedience, chastity and prayer were the three hallmarks of the Fairmont family.

  Lou lived with his family until at age 28 the FBI transferred him to Quantico. There he met and married his wife of 30 years. She too worked for the FBI until her car accident three years before. Lou and his wife, Gretchen had one child, a daughter now married and living in Rockville. He was looking forward to his upcoming retirement so he could spend more time with his family, especially his two young grandsons. As he put his phone away content to see that Gretchen’s physical therapy appointment had gone well, he looked across at Chester who seemed ready to say something. Chester had wanted to meet privately with Lou so he could speak more freely. He had an idea that he didn’t want to bring up during the Task Force meeting, in case there was a disagreement. He didn’t want open disagreements, at least not at this stage of the game. He wanted to respect protocol, but Chester Rugger felt personally responsible for this case. It seemed like these were ‘his’ killers, like this had started in his backyard; the most recently discovered victim had lived here until very recently. That was part of his problem in calling in the FBI. He knew that the assignments made during the Task Force meeting had not included the Putnam County Police force. Besides hosting this thing, they had no specific role assigned. He liked the idea of three topic-based teams, but because his department was on the forefront of this investigation he thought there should be a different role for them, a fourth category. He presented some of these thoughts to Lou now.