Hunter's Way

by Gerri Hill

  “I’d rather not.”

  “You know what I mean, Detective. Our man is young, twenty to thirty. My guess would be Caucasian, they usually are. They also usually kill within their own ethnic group. We have one black, two white. More victims and we’ll have more of a pattern. He was probably spurned by someone who was a lesbian and he didn’t know it or she came out later, after they had a relationship. His victims are all young. This could be something that happened to him while he was in high school.”

  “Why would he now act on it?”

  “Something triggered it. Or maybe he has acted on it before, he just didn’t resort to killing. He was obviously a john in the first two murders. It would have been in a public place, a motel room probably. The third was abducted and killed in private. That could be why the first two weren’t bloodied up. All three were placed where they would be found.” He flipped through the pictures. “They were placed carefully, arms folded, legs straight. Even the third, she’s laid out in much the same way. He doesn’t like what he’s doing.”

  “He left a footprint. We think it was intentional.”

  “Most likely. Serial killers often leave clues. It becomes a game. They taunt the police, seemingly daring us to catch him. Then there is the publicity. There wasn’t much in the paper with the first two. So, a more grisly murder is sure to make headlines.”

  “Well, this is all great, Doctor. But, a needle in a haystack.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, until you have another victim, our clues stop here.”

  Sam sighed. “Thanks for your time. I’ll pass this on to the Lieutenant.”

  He helped Sam gather up the files, watching her.

  “So, what’s it like working with Hunter?”

  Sam glanced at him, then went back to sorting the pages in order. “It’s fine.”

  “I hear she’s a real bitch. They say she practically pushed her last partner out of a three-story window.”

  “Is that what they say?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it was a two-story window and he fell off of the fire escape,” she said. “Are we done?”

  “Sure. Let me know if you need anything else from me.”

  “I will.”

  Sam left him standing in the doorway as she hurried back to the squad room. Tori was perched on Ramirez’s desk, smiling at something he was saying. She stopped. It was the first time she’d seen Tori interact with another detective.

  “Hey, guys,” she called as she tossed the file on her desk. She walked over to them. “What’s got you smiling?” she asked.

  “Ramirez was telling me about Adams and Donaldson’s trip to the gay bar.”

  “The transvestite?”

  “Yeah. They couldn’t tell who were men and who were women. Donaldson got slapped by some chick. God, I’d have paid to see that.”

  “Don’t say anything to them. Sikes will kill me if he knows I told you,” Ramirez pleaded.

  “Well, I’ll keep quiet if you’ll talk your mother into breakfast tomorrow,” Tori said. “For both of us,” she said, motioning to Sam.

  “You know she would cook for you every morning if I let her,” he said. “I’ll bring you a couple of tacos.”

  “Thanks, Tony. That’s sweet,” Samantha said.

  “Okay, what you got?” Tori asked as they walked back to their own desks.

  “Not much. A young white male, twenty to thirty, who hates lesbians because he was spurned by one.”

  “Peterson really pulled that one out of his ass,” she said.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Listen, you want to grab lunch and go pay Belle a visit? We need to go over her records.”

  Samantha hesitated. “I can’t. Robert is coming over,” she said quietly.

  “Oh.” Tori pushed down her disappointment. “Well, I guess you two made up, then.”

  “Not really. He wasn’t actually speaking to me last night. He wants to do lunch and talk.”

  “I see. Well, I can just go over myself. You can come later if you want.”

  “Tori, can’t we wait until one? I’d really like to go with you.”

  Their eyes met across the desks.

  “Please? I promise I’ll be back by one.”

  “Okay. I’ll hang out here until you get back.”

  Samantha reached across the desk and squeezed Tori’s arm.

  “Thanks.”

  Tori looked up then, watching as a tall man approached.

  Handsome. Dark hair. Impeccably dressed. This would be Robert. She felt Sam’s hand slip away from her and she looked up, meeting dark eyes that stared back at her.

  “You’re early,” Samantha said to him.

  “Got out of court early,” he said. Then he stuck his hand out. “You must be Detective Hunter.”

  Tori stood and shook his hand. So, this is the man who wants to marry Sam. She could certainly do a lot worse.

  “I’ll be back by one, Tori. Promise.”

  “No problem, Sam. I’ll wait.”

  Samantha gave her a quick smile, then walked out beside Robert. Tori sat back down in her chair, reaching purposefully for the file that she already knew by heart.

  “She calls you Sam?”

  “Yeah. It’s kinda grown on me,” Samantha admitted. They were walking down the street to the corner deli. She was starving. She would have tuna on rye, she decided. Wonder what Tori would like? Ham and cheese? No, probably turkey.

  “Samantha?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I asked, when are you going to tell me where you were this weekend?”

  “Oh.” She hesitated. “Actually, I went out with Tori on her boat,” she said.

  He nodded. “You seem quite fond of her.”

  “Yes. She’s grown on me, too. Remember that first week? I was ready to shoot her.”

  “I remember. So, what did you do?”

  “On the boat? Fished, mostly.”

  “Fished? Do you like to fish?”

  “We didn’t really catch anything, Robert.”

  “I see you got some sun. I’m glad you weren’t stuck in a dark theater,” he said dryly.

  “I’m sorry, Robert, but I just needed to get away. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks.”

  “What better way to relax than being with your partner, who you were with every day last week, discussing your case some more,” he said sarcastically.

  “Actually, we didn’t even mention the case.”

  “So, you just spent two whole days with a woman who is practically a stranger, and you didn’t even discuss your case? What in the world did you talk about?”

  “Why all the questions, Robert?”

  “I just can’t imagine what the two of you talked about, that’s all. It’s not like you have a lot in common.” He paused and Sam finally glanced at him. “She’s gay, you know.”

  “Oh, thanks Robert, for enlightening me. Of course I know she’s gay. I’m wondering how on earth you know this.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Besides the fact that it’s common knowledge, just one look at her would be enough.”

  “Robert, I thought you wanted to have lunch to talk about us, not my partner.”

  “I do. I’m sorry. It’s just, when you took off like that, it was so unlike you.”

  “I know, Robert. I’m sorry I did that.”

  They stood in the line that had formed and Samantha wished she had declined his offer of lunch. What they needed to discuss couldn’t be done here.

  “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “You just freaked me out when you started talking about marriage and kids and grandchildren, for God’s sake.”

  “I didn’t mean that we should get married next week and start having kids right away, Samantha. I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

  She nodded. “I know how you feel. But my career is important to me, Robert. And I’m not going to put it on hold to stay home and play mom.”

  “If that’
s how it came across, I’m sorry. I never expected you to give up your career.”

  “Yes, that’s how it came across. You’re up next,” Sam said, turning him around to face the counter.

  “What would you like?” he asked.

  “Tuna on rye and turkey on wheat,” she said.

  “Two?”

  “One’s for Tori. She wasn’t leaving for lunch.” She watched as his jaw clenched, but he nodded.

  “And one for your partner,” he murmured.

  Tori looked up as Sam walked in alone. Without conscious thought, she smiled at the other woman whose blond hair was an unruly mess around her face. Sam tried to tame it with her fingers, then she met Tori’s eyes and smiled.

  “Hey.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Lunch. Eat,” she said, placing the bag on Tori’s desk.

  “You brought me something?” Tori tore into the bag, then grinned. “Gee, thanks, Mom,” she teased.

  “You do realize that the only time I see you eat is if I bring you something, don’t you?”

  “I recall cooking for you the other night.”

  Sam smiled as she sat down. “Yes, you did. And burgers, too. I had been craving a burger all day.”

  “So, you and Robert work things out?”

  “Not really. We talked about us without really talking about us, you know?”

  “Status quo?”

  “I guess. But Tori, I just couldn’t tell him. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

  Tori nodded and took another bite.

  “I know what you’re thinking. I’m weak.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that and it’s hardly my business, anyway.”

  Sam picked up the thick file on Tori’s desk and flipped through it. It was all in order again, with the brief notes from the profiler on top. Tori was extremely organized, she’d found out. She glanced up, watching Tori finish her sandwich. She looked adorable with mayonnaise lodged in one corner of her mouth. Then a tongue slipped out and captured the mayonnaise. Sam stared.

  “Hey.”

  “Hmm?” Sam murmured.

  “Ready?”

  Sam pulled her gaze away from Tori’s mouth, meeting dark eyes. She watched as one eyebrow arched.

  “What?”

  “Belle’s?” Tori prompted.

  “Oh, yeah… right.” Sam shook herself. “Belle’s.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Margarita, on the rocks,” Sam said. She had been waiting nearly fifteen minutes for Amy. She would start without her. But just as the waiter brought over the tall glass, Amy walked through the doors. “Hang on, my friend is here.”

  “Sorry I’m late. Judge Carmen was on one of his soapboxes,” she explained. “Mmm, that looks good. I’ll have the same.” She set her purse on the corner of the table and moved her chair closer, resting her elbows on the table. Then she tilted her head, moving her red bangs out of her eyes. “You look great. You got some sun,” she noted. “How did you manage to drag Robert out of the house?”

  Samantha smiled and shook her head.

  “I didn’t. He wanted to spend Saturday afternoon in a theater, or worse, in his apartment watching movies.” She shrugged. “I wanted to be outside.”

  “And?”

  “And I went out on a boat, on a lake,” she said.

  “Where? Who with?”

  “Out on Eagle Mountain Lake. Tori’s got a cabin cruiser out there,” she said as casually as she could.

  “Tori? As in your partner? The psycho woman you ranted about that first week?”

  “The same. Once you get to know her, she’s really not all that psycho.”

  “So you ditched Robert and went out on a boat with her? I bet that went over well.”

  “We had a fight. Saturday at lunch. I left and didn’t tell him. When I got back Sunday evening, he had left twelve messages.”

  “You spent the whole weekend with her?”

  “It wasn’t really planned. But I was having such a good time out there, I didn’t want to come back.”

  “You spent the night on a boat? That does sound like fun.”

  “Yeah. It was. I’m not sure Robert’s forgiven me yet.”

  “What did you fight about?”

  “Grandchildren.”

  “As in… yours?”

  “Yes. He started talking about getting married and having kids. He implied that my career would hinder that.”

  “You’re joking. Robert? But he knows how important this is to you.”

  “I thought he did.” She paused as the waiter brought Amy her drink, then continued. “He said that any decisions I make regarding my career should be based on our future together, meaning house and kids. I needed to be at home more if we were going to have kids.”

  “And did you tell him that maybe he shouldn’t be trying so hard to make partner at his firm?”

  Sam smiled at Amy. As much as she liked Robert, Amy hated any mention of double standards when it came to men and women.

  “Amy, I don’t think Robert’s the one for me,” she said quietly. “I try to picture being married to him and it doesn’t feel right.”

  Amy reached across the table and took Samantha’s hand.

  “You had a disagreement about your career. Now you know how he feels and he knows how you feel. You just have to talk about it and come to an agreement that works for both of you,” she said.

  “Amy, it’s not about that. I’ve been feeling this way for months, now.”

  “Months? But you said you loved him.”

  “I do love him. He’s a sweet man and he’ll make a good husband and father. I just don’t see me in the picture.”

  “Maybe the whole marriage thing is scaring you.”

  “I’m not in love with him, Amy,” she admitted. “I thought maybe I could be, eventually. But I’m not. I know that.”

  Amy leaned back in her chair, staring at her. “You’ve been going out for two years. You’re just now realizing that you’re not in love with him?”

  “I don’t need you to judge me, Amy. I just need to talk about it.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I mean, it’s not a whole lot different than me and Eric. As long as we’re just dating, everything will be fine. But as soon as he starts getting more serious, I know I’ll bolt.”

  “But I doubt you’d let two years go by.”

  Amy leaned forward again. “What’s really wrong, Samantha? I mean, you and I could always talk about anything. I get the feeling that you’re skirting around the problem here, and you’re afraid to talk to me.”

  “No. But how do you tell someone who says they love you and want to marry you that you’re not in love with them?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know this. The longer you drag this out, letting him think that you have a future, the harder it’ll be.”

  “I know. And last night, he cooked this wonderful meal for me, candlelight and wine.”

  “So you’re still sleeping with him?”

  “That’s just it. I faked a headache and went to bed early.”

  “You don’t even want to have sex with him?”

  It was Sam’s turn to lean forward. “Amy, it’s gotten to where I can hardly stand his touch,” she whispered.

  “Well, you’ve got to tell him, Samantha. When’s the last time you’ve slept together?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Three weeks? A month?”

  “Surely he knows something’s wrong.”

  “Yes. I know he does. I feel like such an ass. I don’t know what’s wrong. Well, I do know what’s wrong. My body tells me that he’s not the one and I can’t go through the motions anymore.”

  “You’ve been faking it?”

  Samantha blushed. God, was she really having this conversation with Amy?

  “I thought it would pass.”

  “Well, I’m not taking sides here, but you’re hardly being fair to him.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never faked it.”

  “Of cour
se I have. But not in a very long time and certainly not with someone I’ve been dating two years who wants to marry me.”

  “Amy, you’ve never dated anyone more than two months.”

  “And that’s because when I have to start faking it, I know it’s time to move on. Jesus, Samantha, this is Robert we’re talking about. The guy you’ve been practically living with.”

  “You’re not making this easy,” she said quietly.

  “I know, honey. I’m sorry.” Amy squeezed her hand again. “Maybe it’s just the stress of your new job. Maybe you need to give it some time, huh?”

  Sam was about to protest, but she let it go. It wasn’t her new job. This restlessness that she felt had been growing for months, eating at her little by little. And now, it was nearly unbearable. There was something missing-and Robert was not the answer.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The ringing pierced her sleep, and Sam reached out and punched her alarm. The ringing continued. She opened one eye.

  “Four?” She grabbed the phone and pulled it under the covers with her. “Yeah?”

  “Sam?”

  She sat up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We got another girl.”

  “Oh, no.” Sam tossed the covers off and walked into the bathroom. “Where?”

  “Downtown. You know the Starbucks on Main?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right there.”

  She splashed cold water on her face and ran wet fingers through her hair. She looked frightful but knew she had no time for a shower. She quickly pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and hurried out. She wondered what time Tori had gotten the call. She sounded wide awake on the phone.

  The streets were empty at this early hour and Sam made it to downtown in only fifteen minutes. Flashing lights of the police cruisers lit up the sky and she parked on the street, showing her badge when someone tried to stop her.

  “I’m looking for Detective Hunter,” she said.

  “Down the alley there.”

  “Thanks.”

  She found Tori bent over the Dumpster, peering inside along with Rita Spencer from the medical examiner’s office. She joined them, glancing inside.

  “Jesus,” she whispered.

  Tori glanced at her and nodded. The condition of this body matched that of Rachel Anderson.