“And, a dime will get you a dollar that he didn’t keep computer records,” Ashley said as she slammed down the papers she had just looked through. “I suspect he wasn’t paying sales tax and didn’t want to leave a paper trail, plus I have suspicions that the way he was importing his merchandise wasn’t on the up and up.”
“Our killer closed the door behind him and locked it up tight,” Jack declared with frustration showing in his face. “He seems to still be a step ahead of us.”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Cowell asked. “The body count is growing by the day.”
Jack snatched the head off the tiger next to him and looked at it before offering it to Ashley. She declined to take it, crossing her arms in front of her.
“We know how he’s doing it now,” Jack said. “He’s able to move without suspicion at ballgames disguised in the costumes. Then he’s able to approach his victims with ease. After all, who’s scared of their team mascot?”
Ashley refused to look at Jack when he made that statement, keeping her eyes on the ground.
“What if he already has other outfits?” Cowell asked. “Or maybe he’ll decide to go at it a different way now that he knows that we know his method of operation.”
“Not likely, sir,” Ashley said. “First off killers like the one we’re after are dedicated to their methods. He will continue doing it the same way he has, according to his master plan. He’s cocky enough to believe he can still get away with it.”
Jack nodded approvingly, agreeing with his partner.
“Second, from what I heard from our store owner, these costumes take months to make and deliver,” Ashley noted. “He can’t just up and audible. That’s what they say in football, isn’t it? He is committed to what he’s got. Plus, if the truth be known, our killer is cheap. After all, look where we are. He wanted the costumes but he wanted them at a good price. They don’t have to be exact replicas of the originals; they just need to be good enough to pass under the lights. Our killer isn’t only cunning, he’s also thrifty.”
Cowell stood quietly for a moment considering his options. If he were to remove Ashley from the case then another agent would have to start from scratch, plus that would mean turning over the entire fate of the probe to the FBI. This was his state, his jurisdiction. He didn’t want to besmirch the storied history of the rangers by letting an outside agency come in and do their work. Plus, Cowell realized Ashley was one of the brightest minds he had when it came to getting in the head of a criminal. Her uncanny knack for thinking outside the box helped her catch more than her share of bad guys in her short four years on the force.
“We have to have a plan,” Cowell cautioned, his tone letting Ashley know he was keeping her on the case. “We have to get this guy before he takes another victim, otherwise we will have to go to extreme measures.”
“Extreme measures?” Ashley asked.
“As in going public with all this,” Cowell said. “I’ve told you the issues that it would cause, the panic that would follow such an announcement. We would have to have the governor put down an order suspending the season across the state.”
“You’re talking about shutting down football in Texas,” Ashley said in an astonished tone. “Good luck. That would work about as well as prohibition did.”
“What else can we do?” Cowell said. “We can’t just sit back and let him keep killing until he gets tired of killing. If we can’t stop him we’ll have no choice but to take away his pool of victims.”
“Well if our theory is right, and I think it is,” Jack began, “our guy has just three more outfits so that means three more victims.”
“Um, actually just two,” Ashley interjected. “I was conducting surveillance on the third costume in the store room. It’s the giant mascot. He never got it.”
“That’s two lives,” Cowell cautioned. “Not only that but there’s nothing to stop him from starting it all over next season. All he has to do is find a new tailor.”
“Or re-use the same uniforms,” Jack agreed. “There’s a lot of duplication of team names and mascots in a state the size of Texas.”
Their impromptu meeting was interrupted by the crime scene leader wanting to get back to work. Cowell motioned them in and ushered Jack and Ashley out the door.
“I’m assuming we have one more shot at this,” Cowell said. “Let’s make it count. Can you two work together without killing one another?”
Feeling like a pair of fighting siblings given the tone of Cowell’s question, Ashley and Jack looked at one another before nodding in agreement.
“In that case, keep me in the loop,” Cowell said as he gave Ashley a long look which she knew meant to report only to him. “I don’t think I need to remind you what’s at stake. Now, if you don’t mind, I have another issue to take care of.”
That issue was Randy who still stood dutifully across the road by the major’s car. While not able to make out what Cowell was saying, it was obvious he was irate with his son. The big Texan was as animated as Ashley had ever seen.
Randy was in a different contingent than his father since there were departmental rules against nepotism. There, it was likely that Randy wouldn’t be handed his walking papers for his actions. However, Ashley was sure the ire of his father was nearly as bad as being sent to the unemployment line. While her father had been dead for ten years, Ashley could still vividly remember when she or Buddy, as children or even young teens, got in trouble at home. Their father believed in - and used - corporal punishment expertly. His belt whippings were the things of legend. Given the venom Ashley could feel spewing from Major Cowell toward his son, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see him whip off his belt and turn Randy over his knee right there. And, given Randy’s fear and respect for his father, Ashley supposed he would voluntarily assume the position as commanded.
In the meantime, Jack seemed uninterested in the family drama taking place across the street as he spoke with someone on his phone. He put his finger in his other ear, trying to shut out the distractions around him.
As she watched the major conclude his verbal barrage of his son, something occurred to Ashley.
“The number!" Ashley mumbled to herself as she pulled out her phone.
She recalled a re-occurring number on Jana’s phone records which was registered to the state of Texas.
Having committed the number to her photographic memory, Ashley waited for the major to finish his tirade before dialing the number. Her suspicions were confirmed when Randy reached for his phone and answered. Ashley remained quiet as Randy asked who was on the line several times before hanging up and looking at his caller identification. It was then that it hit him. He looked straight at Ashley. The two locked eyes as she stood with her phone to her ear.
TOO CLOSE TO HOME
“Get off the phone sugar, we need to get rolling,” Jack said, interrupting her stare down with Randy. Ashley’s gaze fell on her partner.
“And, where would that be?” Ashley replied in an irritated tone, still mad over being lied to by the federal agent.
“To find out where our killer is going next,” Jack said. “We have two days so I’d suggest we use them wisely.”
“I’ll meet you at my office,” Ashley answered in a cool tone. “We have a few things to talk about.”
Ashley turned and walked to her car without any further conversation with Jack. She figured she could use the time it would take to drive back to her office as a cooling down period. A glance back to where Randy had been standing revealed her fellow ranger had already left, likely avoiding a secondary butt-chewing by his father.
She turned heads as she pulled away from the crime scene, spinning her wheels as she left, further letting Jack know that all was not forgiven. She let her foot lay heavy on the accelerator and plugged in her AC/DC as she rolled down her window. The air would help cool her off as she listened to her "angry music" and took the long way back to her office.
It was one thing to be
betrayed but another to find out she was betrayed twice, once by a friend and once by a partner. Perhaps she was naive, the product of spending too much time with her nose stuck in books rather than being out living life. Maybe she should listen to Jack’s philosophy and not trust anybody, not even friends and partners.
Naive or not, she knew she had to put her feelings aside for the sake of her mission. Of course, that didn’t mean she had to let Jack run all over her even if he was more experienced when it came to such cases.
Ashley waved off pleasantries offered by co-workers at headquarters. She stomped straight to her office and slammed the door shut behind her. She could feel her blood pressure rising as she plopped down in her chair. She took a long, slow breath hoping to compose herself as she dug out the list she took from Jana’s house.
“You’re welcome,” Jack said as he burst in her door, his sudden unannounced entrance making her jump.
“Don’t you ever knock?” Ashley questioned with her brow furled. “And, what do you mean with that "you’re welcome" crap?”
Jack settled down in the seat across the desk from Ashley with a smug look on his face. His look infuriated her even more.
“You’re welcome for me saving your job,” Jack clarified. “I figured you just forgot to thank me back there. You probably just overlooked that in all the excitement.”
Ashley was incredulous. Her partner’s arrogance apparently had no bounds. Surely it was an act. No one, at least in her experience, is so cock-sure.
“Excuse me for not throwing you a party,” Ashley shot back. “Of course, I’ve never had much tolerance for liars.”
“Whoa there, little lady,” Jack said with surprise in his voice. “That’s a pretty big allegation you’re throwing around. Where I come from, those are fighting words.”
“They are where I come from, too,” Ashley countered with a cross look as she pulled out the notepad she took from Jana’s and threw it across the desk at Jack. “Now, suppose you tell me about the note you illegally removed from the crime scene without telling me? I thought we were supposed to be partners and share everything.”
Jack reached out and took the notepad, looking at the impressions which Ashley had brought back to life.
“I guess the same thing you were doing by taking the notebook and not telling me,” Jack retorted after inspecting the pad and flipping it back at Ashley. “What’s it matter? We both arrived at the same destination.”
Ashley leaned forward toward Jack, making sure she met him eye to eye.
“If we are going to work together, we need to be able to trust each other,” Ashley asserted. “You can start by telling me where you gallivanted off to last night.”
Jack sat back in his chair and cocked his head at Ashley’s question.
“First off, I wasn’t gallivanting,” Jack began. “And, second, it’s above your pay grade, honey. It doesn’t amount to a hill of beans to our case and, frankly, it’s none of your business where I went last night. You ain’t my wife.”
“Thank goodness for small miracles,” Ashley attested, rolling her eyes. “Your ex should have been given a medal for staying with you that long.”
Her comment chased Jack’s wry grin from his face, her personal comment hitting below the belt. Ashley didn’t really care, given the way Jack had made a habit of getting on her last nerve. She was simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Perhaps he was one of those people who could dish it out but not take it.
“You’re probably right,” Jack admitted. His sober answer almost made Ashley feel bad about her reference to his ex-wife. “But, enough with the small talk. We can get to know each other later. Right now we need to get down to business.”
“Agreed,” Ashley replied.
“The first thing we need to figure out is where he's going next,” Jack began with a serious look. “If he sticks to his habit, and we both know he will, he’s either going to be an Eagle or a Devil this Friday. The question is which.”
“Well, I just so happen to know the answer to that one, partner!” Ashley proclaimed. “While I was disobeying your orders, I had a chance to have a conversation with Mr. Dupree before our killer silenced him forever. He told me that John Smith, our killer, picked up the Eagle suit last week and was coming in to pick up the devil and giant today. But get this: Dupree told me that those last two weren’t scheduled to be picked up until next week.”
“So that means he’s an eagle this week,” Jack said with a grin coming back to his face.
Ashley rolled her eyes as a realization hit her. This was high school football in Texas.
“Yeah, but how many teams are Eagles?” Ashley wondered aloud. “There’s no telling.”
“There’s ten, honey,” Jack responded plainly. “And of those ten, eight are in action this Friday night. And, of that number, half of those are outside the metropolitan areas. Our man has shown a preference for smaller towns and I don’t think the tiger changes his stripes at this stage.”
Ashley raised her eyebrows, wondering how Jack could be such an authority on the week’s football schedule. He wasn’t even a native Texan.
“And you know this how?” Ashley asked with a hint of doubt in her voice.
“I don’t know what you were doing on your phone back at the crime scene sweetheart but I was having folks run down the schedule for our remaining costumes,” Jack replied. “I do have some resources at my disposal, you realize.”
“Must be nice to work for an office that prints its own money,” Ashley replied with disdain.
“Yep, it is,” Jack grinned. “The Bureau has its benefits. We don’t get the fancy badges you rangers wear but we do get the flashy suits and a nationwide network of agents.”
The fact there were just four Eagles to choose from did pare down the list. The question still remained, which of the four would the killer hit? Having the number trimmed to a manageable list was nice but unless they could figure out the specific game their killer planned to visit, then the information was of little help. Ashley’s question now was whether Jack’s hypothesis of their killer being a calculating planner was right. If Jack was wrong, then the Eagle could hit at any of the eight schools in action the coming Friday. If Jack was right and the killer was using the internet to pick his victims, could they find out where he was lurking online?
“I wish we could figure out his motivation,” Ashley thought out loud. “I mean, if we could figure out where he was pulling his victims from, assuming your logic is right, then we could beat him to the punch.”
“I’m already all over that,” Jack responded. “We have a few of our technicians doing searches right now but the internet is a big place. We can’t put all our chips on them finding what amounts to a needle in a haystack. And, by the way darlin’, my logic is always right.”
“Okay, then why’s he using the uniforms?” Ashley questioned. “It seems to be a long way to go just to act out some kind of craving he has to kill.”
Jack rubbed his chin. Ashley’s question gave him one of his rare pauses since he generally had an answer no sooner than a question was asked.
“Maybe he just likes the feeling of fur against his bare skin,” Jack joked. “But, I’d say it’s probably some deeply-based mental issue. You’re the profiler. Why aren’t you profiling?”
“That would make sense,” Ashley agreed. “Maybe he is ashamed of himself and doesn’t want people seeing his outward appearance. Maybe he’s the type who can’t look himself in the mirror and needs the outfits to conceal his true identity.”
“Now that’s deep, honey,” Jack whistled. “I think that’s a bunch of crap but it sure does sound fancy.”
Ashley narrowed her brows, realizing her partner was again demeaning her opinion after asking for it.
“Or maybe it just makes it easier to approach his victims,” Ashley said. “Maybe it’s nothing more than that.”
“Who knows,” Jack said. “Maybe it’s a combination of both. We’ll have to ask him afte
r we catch him, that is, if he’s alive to talk.”
Jack’s statement caught Ashley by surprise. What did he mean by saying “if he’s still alive to talk?” The idea was to bring a suspect in to stand trial for his crimes. The time of bringing them in dead or alive over the back of a horse was a thing of the past, even when it came to Texas Rangers. Ashley had admittedly mused about playing executioner to exact vengeance for the death of her friend but she had resisted such thoughts. She was resolved to do things the right way.
“Okay, so say we can’t narrow down the identity of our killer before Friday, I assume our plan is to attend the game and try to collar our suspect?” Ashley presumed. “Which one do we go to?”
“We go to the right one,” Jack declared. “I have enough agents to cover all four stadiums. I mean, we have to be discreet since our boy has to suspect we’re on to him. If he sees something or senses something is amiss, I’d say he will cut and run. If he does that, we may never find out who he is.”
“So, how do we choose the right one?” Ashley wondered.
“We got another day. Let me see what I can find out,” Jack responded. “I really want to be the one to find him.”
“You mean we are going to be the ones who find him,” Ashley corrected.
“Yeah, what you said,” Jack agreed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to try to get a few more leads on our boy. Why don’t you head back downtown and see if anyone may have gotten a good look at our guy. Or better yet, maybe there’s some surveillance cameras down there that caught a glimpse of him.
“Good luck with that,” Ashley responded, recalling how dilapidated that part of town appeared. “But, we can’t afford to leave any stone unturned.”
Her assumption was right as a canvas of the neighborhood around Lone Star Outfitters found no video equipment or anyone who could provide a description of their suspect. Ashley spent the latter part of the afternoon painstakingly walking the neighborhood, speaking with anyone she encountered. The killer had come and gone unceremoniously, leaving behind only the body of Caleb Dupree, his crime committed right under the noses of two trained rangers.
Friday Night Frights (Jack and Ashley Detective series Book 1) Page 12
