No Ordinary Killer

by Rita Karnopp

  “Eunice Ballyard.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “Cooper looked over the gruesome scene, searching for anything the killer might have left behind.”

  “I found nothing he didn’t want me to find,” Arnott said, holding up several collection bags. “I’m out of here. I’ll go help Sparks and Maxwell.”

  As door closed, Cooper spotted a silver pen against the wall. “Grab a bag, Fortune.” He reached down, picked up the pen and dropped it into the evidence bag. “I’m telling only you about this find. Since I’m being investigated, I’d like you to take this evidence in and have it tested for blood and fingerprints.”

  “Any particular reason we are keeping this from the team?”

  “Our guy is smart and it seems he hasn’t made any mistakes. And if he has, he’s also close enough to neutralize its effect.”

  “Okay, I’ll go along with that. You think the killer is one—“

  “One what?” Sparks asked.

  “Dangerous manipulating bastard. He’s leading us by the nose and we’re getting nowhere. See anything interesting with the crowd?”

  “You realize this place is a bit off the beaten path? Those people out there are either media or they rushed down here after hearing it on the news. No one saw anything. No one knows anything. And we’re a fucking day late as usual.” Sparks covered his nose with his cupped palm.

  “He gets a bit wound but he’s right.” Maxwell entered the small building. “I’ll get these pictures done, come on Sparks, put that anger to some good use. Let’s find something that will lead us to this bastard.”

  Cooper noticed Dallas had slipped the pen discretely into her pocket. Somehow he knew he could count on her. “We’re finished here and are heading back to the department. As soon as you get your pictures, Maxwell, meet us back at the team room.”

  Fresh air never smelled so good. Wordless, Cooper led the way back to his truck. He slid into the driver’s seat and slammed his palm on the steering wheel. “He’s got us right where he wants us. We look like a bunch of incompetent imbeciles chasing our tails.”

  “Serial killers have a primary mission connected to a private vision or dream, and the killings take him to this place of satisfaction. But our guy is a bit different. His personal satisfaction is pointing out or proving how wrong we are,” Dallas said.

  “He’s laughing we didn’t tie these three murders together. And why the hell didn’t we have someone watching this place? I distinctly remember telling someone to put this place under surveillance. The first two murders in Megan’s book could have taken place almost anywhere. But we had specific logistics on this third murder. Can’t we do anything right?”

  “We can’t go back, Cooper. If we keep focused and don’t let him play with our minds, I think we can catch this killer at his own game.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The cool clean sheets soothed her tired body. Megan closed her eyes, exhausted from writing until three in the morning. She’d accomplished more in one day than she had in the past month. At first it seemed like a dream … the warmth of his hand on her breast woke her.

  “Hmm, you have the body of a goddess.”

  Megan smiled. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “I’m glad. I need you. I … I know I’m not supposed to ask you questions and I like our mysterious rendezvous. It’s best I don’t know who you really are, that way I can’t tell anyone who gave me all that information for my first book. But … I’m in trouble.”

  “It’s best you don’t know who I am, Megan.”

  “Oh, I know that and I truly don’t want to know … but … I know you are either a policeman or you have access to police files. What I want to know is, if you upload a file is there a record of who pulled it up?”

  “Why on earth would you want to know that?”

  “It’s … for my book.”

  “Oh, you’ve started book two. Fabulous. Well, everyone has a password they must enter to access police files, to answer your question. I don’t think it keeps a record of who opens the database, but it’s damn safe.”

  “No trail. Hmm.”

  “You seem a bit uptight. I thought writing about murdering someone turned you on. Come on, Megan,” he kissed her neck, then bit her nipple. “I need you right now.”

  “Oh,” she gasped. “I love it when you play rough. Just don’t tear—”

  “Sorry, too late.”

  He tossed what was left of her brief panties across the room and entered her fast and furious. Megan inhaled and quickly rose to heights of stimulation. Nothing mattered but the tingling, shivering, ecstatic thrill he filled her with. As he grunted against her, Megan quickly reached up and pulled the mask from his face.

  In the dimly lit room she caught a glimpse of green eyes. The sting of his slap nearly knocked her out. “Damn, why did you hit me so hard?” The mask was back in place.

  “Why did you try to see my face? I thought we had an agreement.”

  “I didn’t mean to … it just happened. It’s so dark in here, I can’t see you anyway. I don’t know why you’re so upset. Now come on, finish what you started.”

  “That’s my Megan.”

  He flipped her onto her hands and knees and drove home. She cried out as he seemed bent on punishing her for offending him. She tried to flip back, but he held her neck tight and pushed her head into the pillow. He continued his assault and in spite of the violence, she fell into the rhythm and climaxed with him. They lay spent, next to each other. He hadn’t released his grip on her neck and strangely that worried her.

  Was her lover the killer? No. He’d first bedded her four years ago. There were times she even worried the twins were his. No one could thrill her in bed like he did. Maybe it was partly the mystery of the man, but most likely it was the way he possessed her soul with a single thrust.

  “You liked it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, baby. You make love like no other. I miss you when you’re gone.” She considered telling him about the caller. She wanted to share it with someone and ask what she should do. But what if the killer found out? She couldn’t take the chance. “Maybe there will come a time when you can let me see you … I mean really see you. I want more than just to make love.”

  “We don’t make love, Megan. We fuck. It serves me and you enjoy it. Why ruin it with complications?

  “Don’t you want more with me? I mean … why—“

  “We will have more, I promise you that. Hang in there, Megan. You are a special part of my life and we’re going to have something most people never experience together.”

  “I believe you.” She closed her eyes as he eased out of bed. Like always, he appeared and disappeared. An exciting man he was.

  * * *

  “Okay, team we know that our perp is selfish and narcissistic. His goal is power and most times sexual gratification. He is also hedonistic and feels superior to other human beings.” Cooper looked each of his team members in the eyes. “Our guy is killing to prove we were wrong the first time and most likely will be wrong again. Now why he zeroed in on Megan Reynolds’ book, we may never know. Let’s concentrate on what we do know.”

  Using a laser pointer, Maxwell pointed to the whiteboard. “We know the killer is taunting us. We know the killer has insight into the all the evidence in each of these three crime scenes. We know the killer has come and gone without anyone seeing him. We know the killer understands police procedures. We know the killer has been feeding information to the media to create fear and to expose police ineptitude. We know the killer is pointing a finger at Detectives Weaver and Reynolds. We know the killer has a great interest in Malicious Intent.”

  “I think that’s where this whole thing started,” Dallas said.

  “Exactly,” Sparks crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I questioned Megan over and over. She swears she never met the source in person. He always called her and gave her information when he
felt like it. He told her not to bother trying to have him traced because he was using a pre-paid cell phone. She told me she’d even take a lie detector test. She does not know the source.”

  “How did she find this source?” Dallas asked.

  “He supposedly called her out of the blue. Told her that he overheard her telling a friend she was thinking of writing a book about a serial killer. That he could give her details and information that would be fodder for a best seller. Megan admitted she’d been thinking about writing the book, but the caller couldn’t have overheard that conversation because she never told a soul.”

  “He said fodder?” Maxwell asked. “That’s an odd term.”

  “That’s exactly what she said. I asked her why she didn’t bring her information to the police. She admitted it seemed odd, but she wanted to write the book. She knew Cooper had always talked about writing crime books and she wanted to piss him off.”

  After a few chuckles, Cooper put up his hands. “Okay, it worked … she pissed me off.”

  Weaver balanced his coffee cup, notebook and jacket. “Sorry I’m late. That place was fucked up.”

  “Let me guess, you didn’t make it to the Billings’ residence before the package arrived?”

  “Afraid not. When I got there an ambulance was taking Mr. Billings to the hospital. He had a heart attack after opening that package containing his daughter’s feet. It didn’t take me that long to get to their house. The killer must have guessed we would try to get there right away and made sure he beat us. I took the package and contents to the lab.”

  “Did we learn anything or see anything suspicious at the crime scene?” Cooper asked.

  “Maxwell and I canvased the entire crowd and took pictures,” Sparks said. “We took pictures of what was left of the body and the crime scene. We found nothing that was different from the—“

  “The package just arrived. I brought it here right away, like you asked, Cooper.” Delores placed a box on the desk in front of Weaver. “It’s addressed to you … like before.”

  “Oh, great … this is damn creepy deja vu.” He stood and hurried to the front of the room. “Hell, I’m not opening that package again. Maxwell, you have a go at it.”

  “Okay folks, let’s do this one together.” Maxwell snapped on a pair of gloves then placed a couple pieces of paper beneath the package. “As before there is no return address and it’s addressed to Paul Weaver at the Police Department.” Maxwell sliced the tape holding the brown paper and carefully unfolded it. “Seems like we have a box—“

  “Stop!” Cooper shouted. “Maxwell, carefully set that box down. Weaver, leave the room and call the bomb squad up here.”

  “Why? There’s no precedence … okay … I think I get it. Better safe than sorry.”

  “I think it would be wise if everyone left the room.” Cooper waited as everyone left, then quietly pulled the door closed.

  “You really think it’s booby-trapped?” Dallas asked.

  “I truly don’t know. But I had a feeling something just wasn’t right. And think about it, if a bomb went off in that room the entire team could have been hurt or worse.”

  “Coming through … I suggest everyone move back and wait for my signal. If I nod my head several times, that means it’s live and get your asses out of this building. I would suggest pulling the fire alarm on your way out.”

  “Your name?” Cooper asked.

  “Archer.”

  “I’m Reynolds and the box is in here,” Cooper opened the door. “Last time that box arrived it had a pair of eyeballs in it … so, if it’s not a bomb, don’t be too shocked at what it might be.”

  “Thanks for the warning. Stand by.”

  Cooper swallowed hard. He may have just made a complete fool of himself, yet, if there was a bomb—his thought stopped when Archer nodded several times. “Okay people, it looks like we have a bomb. Clear out and Delores, pull the fire alarm outside your door.” Within seconds the building was alive with the loud clanging of the fire alarm and people talking and nearly running from the building.

  “Cooper.” Dallas said. “Doesn’t this seem a bit—“

  “Opportunistic?”

  “Yes, that’s the word I was looking for. Who don’t we see right now?”

  Cooper glanced around, finding it impossible to spot any of his team in the swarm of people. “In this crowd it’s difficult to tell.” The loud, shrill clanking of the fire alarm stopped. “Thank God for that. Damn thing was getting on my nerves.”

  “Our team just brought back evidence on this case. I’d say we head for the lab.”

  “Good idea. You stay here in case that bomb goes off.” Cooper ran inside, feeling Dallas behind him.

  “Not on your life. I’m your backup, remember.”

  Cooper smiled and ran down two flights of stairs with Dallas on his heels. A door click echoed in the empty hallway. Cooper motioned for Dallas to stop. They waited and listened. Silence answered. They were wasting time. Cooper cautiously approached the lab doors. He mouthed he’d go in right, she should go left. Her nod confirmed the plan.

  Inching the door open, he moved quickly inside and Dallas followed. He eased the door shut. They pulled their guns and moved in opposite directions. The room smelled of alcohol, metal, decaying skin, and a number of odors Cooper didn’t care to think about. The cold floor echoed his every move. Even though Dallas advanced slowly and he was sure with care, he heard the click of each step. Edging his way around a corner, Cooper eased into the laboratory center.

  “What the hell.” Cooper shook his head and holstered his gun.

  “Unbelievable. It would have taken longer than a few minutes to do all this,” Dallas said.

  “So what did we have that the killer didn’t want us to fingerprint? Everything is contaminated. There isn’t a single bit of evidence left in a bag.”

  “Cooper, do you see that silver pen?”

  He glanced in every direction searching through the pile of trashed evidence. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

  “Only you and I knew about it.”

  “And the killer,” Cooper added.

  “You think he realized it was missing and took a guess we found it?”

  “We had him, Dallas. Damn it anyway … we had him and we just lost him.”

  “This confirms the killer is someone close. He’s smart, cunning, and watching every move we make.”

  Cooper opened his cell phone and dialed. “Maxwell, come straight down to the lab. Talk to no one. Now.” He looked over at Dallas. “There are two people in this building that I would trust with my life; Maxwell and Arnott.” Cooper dialed another number. “Come down to the lab. Be inconspicuous.”

  “What the hell did you guys do?” Maxwell shook his head, taking in the mess.

  “Oh, don’t you be looking at us. We got a gut feeling the bomb threat might have been a diversion. We decided to start at the lab where our latest evidence was delivered. We found it just like this.” Dallas took several pictures with her cell phone.

  “Damn if this don’t beat all. You know it crossed my mind that bomb might be bogus. But when the guy said there was real, I thought I was getting too jumpy. I should have followed my instincts.”

  “Damn, this does not look good,” Arnott stopped and shook his head.

  Resonates of people reentering the building replaced the dead silence. Cooper’s phone rang. “Reynolds.” Cooper listened, then snapped it shut.

  “It was a bomb alright. Had you opened that box, Maxwell, you might have lost a hand and even part of your face. In a small room like that, we would have sustained a lot of glass projectile. Wouldn’t have been a pretty sight.”

  “Our killer is progressing. He’s becoming more aggressive and daring,” Dallas said.

  “How long after the alarm did you guys head down here?” Maxwell asked.

  “Couple of minutes, that’s why we think this was done before the fire alarm was pulled.”

  “He anticipated you
would think bomb and call the squad in. That’s interesting.”

  “Weaver refused to open it and left the room as soon as he could,” Dallas said.

  “True, but you weren’t there the first time he opened that box. He rolled those bloody eyeballs into his hand and nearly had a heart attack. He dropped them on the floor and vomited all over himself. I’d say he had a good reason for not wanting a repeat performance. I don’t think he was leaving, rather was going to watch from a safe distance. Besides, I’m the one who sent him running out of that room to call the bomb squad.” Cooper didn’t like the narrowing odds.

  “Consider this. It doesn’t have to be one of our team. We are surrounded by windows. Half the time we have the door open because it gets too damn hot in that room. We enter information in the database and anyone in this building has access with a password. We could be watched close or from afar. I agree we have a leak and we have a killer among us … I’m just saying I don’t think it’s one of our team.” Arnott leaned over and picked up a piece of paper between his thumb nail and pen. “Get a glove on and look at this, would ya.”

  Maxwell reached over and held the receipt in his latex palm. “I’ll be damned! It’s a near perfect blood imprinted sneaker. Whoever did this didn’t realize he stepped on some of the blood evidence and gave us a very nice impression. Great work, Arnott.”

  “This information goes nowhere,” Dallas said.

  Cooper reached in his pocket and withdrew a plastic evidence bag. “We need to check the entire paper for fingerprints. Run the footprint through the computer database. I want to know what brand sneakers these are and I want to know everything about the blood while we’re at it. Dallas, you and I are taking this evidence to Missoula right now.”

  “Good idea. Instead of going across McDonald Pass, I think you should go to Helena across Rogers Pass. It’s longer but unexpected,” Maxwell said. “I’ll wait here for the lab people and help minimize the damage.”