Ties That Bind

by Anne Patrick

  He slowly lowered her to the ground, turned and met the surprised expressions of more than a dozen pairs of eyes, several of which were his own deputies. He attempted the only explanation he could think of. "I was testing a theory that we came up with about how the killer transports the bodies."

  "Nice try, Sheriff, but I don't think they're buying it," Jo whispered, shielding her amusement with a hand to her mouth.

  "I think I'll go see if Agent Drake needs a hand," he said and made a quick exit.

  *****

  Jo was into her second thermos of coffee by the time they started to wrap things up. According to the pathologist, the latest Jane Doe was killed between the hours of eight p.m. Sunday evening and one a.m. Monday morning, which meant she was the freshest kill to date. Blood and urine samples were drawn and ready to be transported back to Salt Lake City along with the body and everything else they collected from the scene.

  "The sheriff says you want a few minutes alone with the victim," Drake said, coming out of the embalming room of the funeral home where the autopsy was performed.

  Used to the ridicule from her colleagues, she ignored his smirk and walked on past.

  "Hey, Jo, tell her if she runs into my old man to tell him I said hi."

  She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

  "What was that all about?" Austin asked, meeting her at the door.

  "Nothing." She brushed past him.

  The smell of formaldehyde assaulted her nose the moment she walked into the room. She slowly approached the autopsy bay. After a deep breath, she pulled back the white sheet. The first thing she noticed was the tattoo of a red rose above the victim's left breast just below the Y incision. Jo closed her eyes as she took the woman's hand, emptying her mind of the events of the day, concentrating only on the victim.

  Nothing happened.

  She tried several times but was unable to pick up anything.

  "What did you get?" Austin asked the moment she turned around.

  "Nothing." She walked past him, out of the room.

  He followed. "What do you mean, nothing? Maybe you're not concentrating hard enough. You had to have seen something."

  "It doesn't work that way, Austin. Sometimes a vision comes to me, other times it doesn't. I'm sorry." Exhausted, she glanced up at the clock on the wall behind him and saw it was well after midnight. No way was she going to make a flight out to D.C. tonight.

  "I don't get it."

  She shrugged her shoulders. "This gift didn't come with a set of instructions, Austin."

  "Does that mean you won't be able to pick up anything from the site?"

  She looked at him. He looked terrible and she wondered if she did, too. She thought of the last site she'd visited. She'd been able to pick up on the killer briefly. "We can try if you want. Let me drop off my rental at the motel and ride out with you." Jo didn't want to drive, considering the shape she was in.

  "Okay I'll meet you at the motel."

  *****

  It was almost two in the morning by the time they made it back out to the site and found the ER team loading up the last of their equipment. Using the lights they'd yet to take down, Jo and Austin made their way back down to the dumpsite. She took a deep breath, gathering her strength, and knelt beside the tree. It took several minutes for her to get the nerve to sit down.

  Jo took another deep breath in a lame attempt to settle her nerves, and eased back against the tree trunk, thinking about the man responsible for the murders. Several minutes passed and nothing happened. She was just about to give up when her pulse quickened. Then came the images. The adrenaline rushing through his body caused his heart to race as he peered down at the motionless woman. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him as if begging him to end her suffering. He wondered what she was thinking. She was powerless against him. He imagined that had to be a terrifying experience in itself, which was why he'd chosen the drug. He wanted his victims to be aware of what was happening, to see the fear in their eyes. He grinned, loosening the rope around her neck. He heard her suck in a mouthful of air. She was at his mercy; he held her life in his hands. It was an exhilarating feeling that few people ever knew.

  He thought of a cat he had as a kid, remembered watching it one day as it tormented a mouse it had caught in their kitchen. He'd found the scene fascinating, how the cat would pounce on it a few times, allow it to go free briefly before snatching it again. The game had gone on for several minutes before the cat got bored and finally put the mouse out of its misery. In a sense he knew what that mouse felt like. To have a goal in sight and then have someone squash those dreams.

  His heart pounded harder in his chest as the anger began to take hold again.

  Jo tried to shake the vision from her mind, knowing the consequences of that anger. She tried desperately to shift her thoughts, to think of something pleasant. She thought of Austin, and how good she felt being in his arms earlier. She thought of the time they had been spending together and how he had stood up for her with Brad. It'd been a long time since a man had done that for her.

  Jo's heart started to race again. She tried to stay focused on Austin, but the vision was too powerful. With the cord tightened around her throat, she gasped desperately. Conscious of what was happening to her and unable to do anything about it was the most frightening thing she'd ever experienced. Powerless against her captor, she had only her will to survive. What do I have to live for? My job is the only thing I have going for me. If only I'd tried harder to keep my last marriage together, tried harder to give him children, but I even failed at that.

  She felt the rope loosen around her neck and she opened her mouth and sucked in as much air as she could before the rope tightened again. Why doesn't he just kill me and get it over with, why is he prolonging my release from this miserable life?

  Please…just…let…me…die.

  Trying desperately to discern what was real and the vision she was trapped in, Jo's own will to survive prompted her to struggle and to grasp the imaginary cord wrapped around her neck. Unable to get her fingers underneath the cord, and feeling the life draining out of her, she lunged toward her captor, clawing at him.

  Jo could feel her fingernails dig into his skin, felt him flinch, but he refused to lessen his grip.

  "Jo, it's me, Austin, snap out of it. Open your eyes and look at me."

  Tears streaming down her cheeks, she saw the worried expression on Austin's face. Then lowering her gaze to the arms wrapped around her, she saw the bloody scratches.

  "Austin, I'm so sorry," she cried, realizing now it was he who she'd been striking out at.

  "I'm fine, don't worry about me, you're the one I'm concerned about."

  She started to ask why, when all of a sudden it was as if she'd been submerged in ice water, and she began to shiver uncontrollably.

  Her skin felt clammy and Austin's face began to fade. 'Please, God, not another vision. I'm so tired, all I want to do is sleep.'

  "Wrap your arms around my neck," Austin instructed, as he slid his hands underneath her.

  "I'm okay," she spoke with trembling lips.

  "Yeah, sure you are."

  Disoriented, Jo began to struggle against him, but her strength was depleted and she was freezing. She snuggled against him, seeking his body's warmth. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she allowed him to carry her out of the forest.

  *****

  Slim was the first to greet them. "Let me guess, you're testing another theory?"

  "Open the door of my car, she's going into shock," Austin said.

  "Shock! What happened to her to make her go into shock?"

  "Please, Slim, just open the door. And turn the heater on full blast."

  Austin lowered Jo across the back seat and then adjusted the rear vents so the heat would reach her faster. Almost instantly he felt a blast of warm air coming toward them.

  "Here, cover her with these." Slim handed him a couple of blankets.

  Austin spread them over her and
glanced down at her face. Her eyes were barely open and her lips were still trembling. "She's awfully pale. I don't think this is working. Maybe I should take her to the hospital."

  "It's working just fine," Jo spoke softly, reaching for his hand. "I don't want to go to the hospital," she managed more coherently.

  "You look terrible, Jo."

  "So do you, but you don't see me freaking out, threatening to take you to the hospital."

  Slim laughed. "She's gonna be fine."

  "Are you accusing me of overreacting to the situation?"

  She glanced up as he hovered over her, still holding her hand. "Maybe just a tad."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Austin stared up at the clock on his office wall and saw it was almost ten. He hadn't wanted to come in at all today, and probably wouldn't have if Bailey hadn't volunteered to stay home from school today to keep an eye on Jo. She'd been asleep in his bed since early this morning, having lost consciousness midway into town. Though he had wanted to take her to the hospital to be checked out, she'd made him promise not to just before she'd passed out. Even now, nine and a half-hour's later, he regretted that decision.

  He glanced up at the clock again and wondered if he should call to see how she was doing. But recalling how annoyed Bailey had been the last time he'd called, twenty minutes ago, he decided against it. Besides, she'd threatened to unplug the phone if he called again before noon.

  Unable to concentrate on anything other than the events of the previous night, he thought back to Jo's reaction shortly after their arrival at the scene. She'd been visibly upset the moment she'd knelt at the tree where the victim had been found. It wasn't until she'd begun to claw at her neck that he gave into his impulse, and rushed to her side, taking her into his arms.

  Austin peered down at the deep scratch marks on both his arms. It looked as if he'd gone through a barbed wire fence and hurt just as bad. He thought of the scratches on Jo's neck, the ones she had inflicted on herself while in some kind of a trance. The vision he'd witnessed last night, however, had been much worse than the first one. He knew he would never forget the look on her face as he'd tried to comfort her. He'd never seen anyone look so terrified, so desperate.

  "Hey boss, there's a Special Agent Washington on the line for you, and he doesn't sound too happy," Walt announced over the intercom.

  Oh man. "Garrett here, what can I do for you?"

  "I'm trying to locate Agent McDaniels. She was due here yesterday, but I haven't heard from her, and she's not answering her cell phone."

  "I'm afraid she's not feeling well, she's in bed sick. I'm sorry. I suppose I should have called."

  "What happened to her?" The agent's voice was much sharper.

  "Nothing serious, she's just feeling a little under the weather."

  "Sheriff, I've known Jo for over ten years. Aside from injuries, she's acquired on the job, she's never taken a sick day in her life. Now I want to know why she isn't here."

  Now what? Austin searched his mind for a plausible excuse. He knew the man knew of her abilities, but he wasn't sure whether or not Jo would want him to discuss what had happened to her in the forest. Either way, Austin knew she wouldn't be making the trip to Quantico for at least a day or two. She looked like death warmed over, and he hated himself for having suggested the idea, knowing how tired she was at the funeral home.

  "Either you tell me what is wrong with my agent, or, I promise you I'll be on the next plane out there."

  "It's just that she's been working some long hours, and the case, well it's a difficult one."

  "She's gone too far," he said softly. "Has she given you any direct details about the killer?"

  "Some," Austin answered, wanting to get to the bottom of what happened to her last night.

  "Listen to me very carefully, Sheriff, you have to keep her away from the crime scenes. She is not to go near any of them, is that understood?"

  "Not really. How is she supposed to do her job if she doesn't have access to the crime scenes?"

  "You've heard of a camera haven't you?"

  "Look, I don't care if you're the director of the FBI, I don't appreciate being talked down to," Austin snapped. "And just so you know, she's told me about these visions she has."

  There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Well, I doubt she bothered to mention how dangerous they can be, both physically and mentally, especially if she tries to pick up anything from the killer. So unless you're bent on destroying her career, I suggest you follow my advice. In the meantime, I'll try and find you a replacement."

  "Replacement?" What was he talking about? He couldn't lose her on this case, not now.

  "I don't think you understand what is going on here, Sheriff."

  "Then enlighten me, cause I really need Jo…I mean Agent McDaniels on this case."

  "According to the last briefing I had from Jo, you guys had some possible ID's on the victims, and she had a pretty good sense of their personalities. Evidently that wasn't enough for her. If my hunch is correct, she's used her ability to get close to the killer, so as to learn the significance of the murders."

  The casual use of her name came as little surprise; it was evident from the alarm in his voice that the two were much closer than Jo let on. "That's what profiler's do, isn't it?"

  "What Jo does goes far beyond what your average profiler can do. These visions she has gives her the ability to place herself in the moment of the kill. She doesn't just sense what they are feeling; she actually feels their pain. She becomes the victim."

  "How is that possible?"

  "That, Sheriff, I can't answer. I don't know how she's able to do it, all I know is she is capable of doing it, and the last time she did it, it nearly ended her career as well as her life."

  Austin fell silent at his words. Judging from the raw terror he'd seen in Jo's eyes last night, he knew without a doubt, Washington's hunch was correct. Jo had gone into that forest for one reason and one reason only. She'd gone there to meet the killer.

  "Can't she control these visions?"

  "She can to a point. When she feels one coming on, if she forces herself to think of something other than the victim, she can usually prevent it. But if she hasn't had enough rest, or is upset with the lack of progress she's making, she is liable to push herself too far. If that happens, Sheriff, the next body you have on your hands will be that of a federal agent."

  Why would she subject herself to such danger? Why would she go into that forest knowing the danger it presented? It only took him a second to realize the answers to his questions. She had taken the risk because he had asked her to. "You have my word, that won't be the case," Austin promised. "I'll do everything in my power to see that nothing happens to her."

  "All right," Isaac said after a long pause. "I'm taking you at your word, Sheriff, but you best not let anything happen to her, and once she feels up to it, have her give me a call?"

  "I will," he assured and hung up the phone. He glanced up at the clock again; it was only 10:30. He wondered if he'd ever make it through this day.

  Forcing himself to concentrate on his work, he phoned Sergeant Thomas with the Salt Lake City Police Department, informed them of the DNA results, and asked them to notify Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. He then called Houston and advised them of the same, and they'd assured him they'd notify Margaret Miller's assistant manager that there'd been a positive ID made.

  Deputy Pendergrass poked his head in Austin's office a short time later and announced he'd finished cross-referencing the list of van owners in the area to those who had purchased blue tarps, and that none were a match. Another dead-end.

  "Okay. Get Slim to help you check the credit backgrounds of the victims we've ID'd. If they had credit cards, I want to know the last place they were used."

  While they were doing that, Austin phoned the airlines in Portland requesting a list of all single women who'd flown into the city over the weekend, hoping they would get as lucky with the last one as they had with the fi
rst three victims.

  It was when he had a woman with Global Air on the line that he learned one of their stewardess's failed to show up for a flight yesterday morning.

  Suzanne Reynolds, thirty-six, from Seattle, Washington was scheduled to fly out of Portland yesterday morning on a nine a.m. flight to New York City, he'd been informed. "Do you know if she has a tattoo?"

  "As a matter of fact she does. A rose I think. I only saw it once, when we went clubbing together on one of her layovers."

  He thanked her for her help and asked to speak to her supervisor. After notifying him of his suspicions he phoned the Portland PD and asked them to fax him the missing person file on the stewardess who had only been reported missing a few hours ago.

  Thirty minutes later, Austin glanced over the report, matching it to the autopsy notes Agent Drake had given him the night before. Approximate age thirty to thirty-five, five-nine and one-hundred-forty-five pounds. The appendix scar and tattoo were a match along with the physical description. Phoning the Seattle PD, he informed them of the possible ID and asked that her family members be contacted and blood drawn for positive ID.

  Exhausted both mentally and physically he decided to call it a day, informing Slim he'd be home if anyone needed him.

  *****

  Bailey was coming down the stairs when Austin entered the front door of his home. "How is she? Is she awake yet?" he asked, glancing at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was almost three in the afternoon.

  "She's still out of it, but I'm sure she'll be fine."

  "I don't know, she's been asleep an awfully long time." He climbed the stairs to where his daughter stood blocking the way.

  "You said yourself she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, she's just tired."

  "I should check on her, make sure she's—"

  "I just checked, Dad, she's fine." Bailey placed her hands on his shoulders. "Come on and I'll fix you a sandwich," she offered. "You hardly touched your breakfast. You must be starving."