“How can you catch a guy like that, Dad? Even if you join all the cases, locations, and evidence to make one of your databases, he’s killing with no kind of pattern. I watch all the crime shows. The bad guys have a pattern. Otherwise, the good guys don’t catch them.”
“I’m not that much of a good guy, Jean,” Nick replied. “We’ll keep this between us, because I haven’t decided what to do with this bad man we’re after. If I turn over what I’ve found to the locals; and let them coordinate a vast dragnet with task forces in every city, FBI teams pursuing because he’s killed across state lines, they would all have fun with their badges. The problem is I doubt they’d find him. They’d all immerse themselves in every detail from the different cities involved, the media would give the asshole a catchy name like The Coastal Killer, and he’ll have all the warning he needs to lay low.”
“Do you think those dates mean anything?”
Nick finished his piece of pizza, and washed it down with beer while contemplating Gus’s question. Everyone else continued eating too, but in silence.
“I think the dates are mostly for convenience. He hit all the Gulf Coast targets on alternating Valentine’s Days, then our area during ‘The Ides of March’. The Southern Cal beach towns were hit on April Fool’s Day, and the North Coast and Vancouver, Canada on July 4th. I doubt he put much stock in the dates except to catch the media’s attention in one of the areas. He’s no dummy. Killing these girls over a ten year period in mostly small coastal towns has until now kept him on the down low. Waiting until the Amber Alerts die down to stage the body, before moving on to his next killing, makes it tough on the local cops to piece anything together. I’m certain we’ll be getting a call from Dickerson letting us know they’ve found these other killings.”
“Then what,” Rachel asked.
“Nothing. We’re not waiting for the announcement that will send our bad boy into hiding. He’ll be due to hit his Southern Coast target area on April 1st, but he’ll probably back off once the media deluge begins, soaking in the notoriety. I have a hunch his home base is in the North Bay near San Francisco. That there have been no targets in the North Bay Area is an omission I think means he lives there. I have a query in to check satellite footage during this latest year’s killings. I initiated a separate query with names of airline passengers arriving in airports near the target areas during the killing periods. I narrowed the search down by adding boat rentals into the mix. It will take a while for the worms I’ve set into motion to go into the past as far as possible on all counts.”
“What if he uses aliases when traveling or renting?”
“He can’t do it without leaving a money trail, Gus. The connection between air passengers, car rentals, and boat rentals thrown in with this gardenia fixation should highlight similar names on credit card receipts. My guess is he rents a boat small enough for him to handle alone. He then snatches his victim, and takes her out to sea, only returning to pose them on the given date.” Nick paused, watching the screen. “In another couple of hours we should have much smaller parameters. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the view, and of course our drinks.”
Jean sat down next to Nick with pizza in hand. “Those girls look like me. How do you think he got them?”
“I don’t know. I plan to ask him if all goes according to plan.”
“You’re not allowing this guy to get caught, are you, Gomez?”
“Not if I can help it, Tina,” Nick replied. “I’m thinking he may have an ignominious ending where he recants his sins, and dies in a horribly self-mutilating way. It will be staged properly, just as he has staged his victims. An added note will be in his own handwriting, begging forgiveness for what he has done.”
“You’re serious,” Tina asked, glancing at Gus.
“Nick’s serious, Hon. How are you going to handle the police angle, Nick?”
“I’ll turn over everything I find connecting places, circumstances, times, and opportunities, saying I want to help them catch the guy, but I’ve gone as far as I can. I’ll include some of the satellite footage I can garner too. Dickerson will have to hand it over to his boss. The boss will slide it onto the Feds, and that’s when the massive task force parties will begin. When our bad guy surfaces after being introduced to the afterlife, there will be much posturing about the hunt closed in on him, and he couldn’t bear the pressure. It will be entertaining watching all the agencies involved try and take credit for the neat kill.”
“I don’t care,” Gus stated. “We get this guy, and I don’t give a shit what you do with him. I’m going to help – tracking, stalking, I don’t care… I’ll do it.”
“Your help will be most needed too,” Nick admitted. “We also have to keep an eye on our new recruit, El Kabong. While we’re dealing with this serial killer, I don’t want to lose track of the newly discovered threat he’s found.”
“Jesus… is there anywhere around you that isn’t peopled by terrorists, serial killers, and plain old thugs?” Rachel was not happy. When she couldn’t get a reaction, she took a deep breath as she realized the booby trap she stumbled into. “Okay… go ahead… lay it on me. Grandma Mona is safe and sound because El Muerto and Payaso made her so.”
“Beautifully put, my love,” Nick complimented with tongue in cheek enthusiasm while Jean giggled. “It’s good you don’t forget our world has never been in the same dimension as the world most people see. We exist on our own plain of existence. Sometimes we drag others into it by their own choice, such as Tina… a welcome companion for my partner, Payaso. It is difficult in our dangerous dimension, but we seem to be attracting layers of protection to it, because official forces are finding my skills more necessary than they ever dreamed possible.”
“We’re doing good, Rachel,” Gus agreed. “We’ve been through a lot together. To stay together, we have to accept the part about abnormal circumstances being our reality. There sure are a hell of a lot of pluses though to be thankful for. We have to be alert every moment, but that’s not a bad thing.”
Rachel hugged Gus, then pushed him away with comical intent. “I know… but El Kabong? Really?”
They all enjoyed Rachel’s take on Nick’s new recruit for a couple moments. The phone rang. Nick saw Sergeant Dickerson’s ID, smiling while holding his cell-phone for the others to see. “Hello, Sergeant.”
“Nick… I expanded the parameters. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”
“Twenty-six victims, from Vancouver, Canada, around the coast to Florida. I’ll be bringing in a complete report on what I’ve found through my sources first thing tomorrow morning after I walk Jean to school.”
“Good deal.” Dickerson’s relief was evident in his voice. “I thought I was nuts seeing how far this extended. The bad part is it will spiral out into the stratosphere of agencies diving into this, Nick.”
“I know. I’ll present what I’ve found tomorrow morning, and then back away. There’s no use in me making this hunt any more complicated. I wish the best for you, and the task forces that go after this bastard.”
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate your understanding. When we get him, you’ll be on my first to know list.”
“Thanks, Neil. I appreciate that. Good Lord, my friend, I hope you catch this guy.”
Dickerson hesitated, which made Nick smile. “I hope so too, Nick. I admit I hate the task force crap. Most of the time it turns into a circle jerk with no results. Thanks for your understanding. I was afraid you’d be pissed at not being involved.”
“No way,” Nick replied. “I know these circumstances have to develop in their own reality of federal agencies and local police departments. I don’t envy you in all this.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Count on it.” Nick disconnected, smiling at his extended family. “Yep. The wheels of bureaucracy are in effect full bore. Sergeant Dickerson is the refreshing entity in all of this. I will actively work to get him climbing the police hierarchy. He’s good, a
nd he doesn’t close his eyes to the reality of agencies jumping in to get a piece of a federal case. I wish I could come up with something in our projected bad guy’s death that would somehow reflect favorably on Dickerson.”
“Thanks for reminding me I have to go to school tomorrow,” Jean stated with dejection haunting every word to the amusement of her company.
“It will be the best,” Nick said, unable to hide his enjoyment of walking Jean to class. “Gus, Deke, and El Muerto tagging along on a great morning in Pacific Grove, kid. It’s up to you to do well in school. With an escort like you get, it should be a rocket ship to doing well.”
Jean giggled. “I’ll do my best, but enjoyment of walks to school I have to leave to all you oldsters. I’m sure you see more in the happening than I do.”
“Oldster… oldster? Do you hear this, Gus?”
“Yeah, Nick,” Gus acknowledged, hanging his head. “I thought we were a welcome go to school escort. Now… I hear we’re the over-the-hill gang escorting the infamous Dagger through her necessary burden. I’m not thrilled anymore. How about you, Deke?”
Deke jumped from his bowl of beer, glancing around with incomprehension as to his hoped for answer. He chose to walk over next to Gus, grunt, and take a position at his feet. Gus pointed and petted the attentive Deke. “See… you hurt Deke’s feelings.”
“I did not.” Jean sounded a short two toned whistle, and Deke streaked to her side. “Deke knows I have a love/hate problem with school, Payaso. I’ll tell you one thing, if this guy tries to grab me, he better bring more than a con job.”
Gus and Nick exchanged glances meant only as a deadly unspoken pact no one would touch Jean unless they were already dead. They could joke. They could plot plans to capture bad guys placed in their sights, but the two partners had only one dog in any hunt: family.
* * *
Jean skipped along in front of Nick and Gus, with Deke doing a circular hop, prance, and attentive jump once in a while as he accompanied his human cohorts. He suddenly growled, pacing between Jean and the road as a car drove slowly by. Both Gus and Nick reached for weapons. A man inside smiled over at Jean and Deke before accelerating on his way.
“Got it,” Gus said, fingering in the license plate. “It’s stolen, Nick. That was our fucking guy! He’s threaded into the investigation somehow.”
“He’s playing with us, Gus,” Nick’s aura changed in the morning light to cold, dead recognition of danger. “I’m not sure how, but he’s on to us. He’s wondering right now if we even noticed him.”
“I admit that is spooky as hell,” Gus said, as Jean had stopped when Deke growled. “What now, Muerto?”
“He filled in his face for me. He’s a cocky bastard, and he didn’t do his homework. I believe the years of killing unnoticed has played with his head a little. I never forget a face. We’ll need to contact John. We can’t get bogged down in the terrorist hunt right now.”
“Want me to report seeing the stolen car?”
“No. Let’s keep that to ourselves for now. I don’t underestimate my enemies, but if we get any clues as to where the car was stolen, I’m betting he left his own in the same spot. We’ll work that angle first. I want him thinking he’s the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“That was him… wasn’t it?” Jean’s features did not show fear, but only excitement. “I bet he thinks he can take me. He sure knows you’ve been asked into the investigation. I want to be the bait! We’ll nail him!”
“I’d slit my own throat before I let you be bait. Please don’t ever repeat those words anywhere. What I would like is for you to bring ‘Dagger’ to the surface, and do not let anyone talk the school or your teachers into allowing anyone other than Gus or me to pick you up. You have your iPhone. FaceTime with me no matter what question you have. We will not be far away from the school today at any time.”
Jean smiled. “Got it. This guy is in big trouble.”
Nick patted his daughter’s shoulder. “Yeah, he is.”
Chapter Twelve
Educating Ollie
“He stole it from the Fisherman’s Wharf parking lot,” Gus said. He kept digging into any other sightings of the vehicle or confirmation it had been abandoned. “I don’t see any updates about the car being recovered. It’s a 2010 Mazda 3. He took a real chance taking it out of there. Hell, he’d have to pay the parking fee face to face with a lot attendant. Damn… maybe you’re right. This guy seems suddenly obsessed with you being called in as a consultant.”
“He’s taking way too many chances.” Nick turned his satellite laptop toward Gus. “We have a winner from my cyber hunt. No one matched all criteria except for this Oliver Dansing. He lives in the North Bay as I thought. I have an address in San Mateo. His personal car is a 2014 BMW 320i. Let’s go see my buddy, Jerry Burkhart. He’ll have a car we can borrow for checking on the parked cars at Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“This seems too good to be true,” Gus said. “Do you smell a trap?”
Nick gave serious consideration to Gus’s instinctive feeling about Dansing luring them into a trap. He normally never let anyone cloud his decisions with unnecessary threads to worry about. “We’re going over to the Fisherman’s Wharf parking lot, find Dansing’s actual vehicle, and wait for him. I’ll give him credit for probably knowing our vehicles. We’ll have Rachel and Tina go into my safe-room when we leave. He won’t know what Jerry will give us to drive.”
“Just for my input, partner… what if he hired a crew to take you out or something?”
Nick smiled. “It won’t matter, my friend. He would have hired guys wanting to get the drop on me, stuff me and you in a trunk, and leave the Fisherman’s Wharf parking lot. You already know the problems with that ever taking place.”
Gus grinned at his partner’s take on things. “That wouldn’t work for him at all. I’m overthinking this anyway. He’ll retrieve his BMW in person, and believe he’ll be flitting up North. He won’t drive the stolen car to the Wharf, so he’ll be approaching his Beamer on foot. Are you going to take him in the lot?”
“Nope. He won’t even know we’re nearby. I’m going to hack into his BMW’s Connected-Drive in-car internet system. Then we’ll make sure Mr. Dansing’s BMW is at the Wharf as we suspect. We’ll drive over and keep an eye on it until he goes home to San Mateo. We’ll track his car to his home. First though, I need to get busy on hacking into the BMW. I’d like you to find out everything you can about his house in San Mateo, including satellite photos of his grounds, and the blueprints. After I hack into the BMW, I’ll start going over the satellite footage for the crime scene. That’s a shot in the dark, but it would be cute to turn in the case with damning evidence. When they arrive to take Mr. Dansing into custody, he will have committed suicide in angst over his many murders.”
“That would be the best. It will get you points for being straightforward helpful with the police, plus keep suspicion you took an active hand in it at a minimum.”
“That’s the plan, Payaso. The only unknown factor is why the hell he’s stealing a car, doing a drive-by on us, and remaining in the area for this long. Also, I doubt if anyone’s helping him from inside the PD. That would mean he was watching when Dickerson brought me to the crime scene. I wonder if he heard anything. We need to revisit the crime scene, and check for a cam he planted. I know the cops weren’t looking for a cam.”
“Should we finish doing the investigating, or do you want to check the crime scene first?”
“We’ll do the prep work first, then the crime scene. I’ll get a trace on him now, so we know if he retrieves his Beamer before we get done,” Nick answered.
An hour later, Nick’s laptop warned him the BMW was being driven. “Dansing’s on the move.”
Gus finished putting together the last of his file on Dansing’s house and grounds. “Is he headed for home?”
“Sort of.” Nick turned his laptop so Gus could see. “I think he’s coming to my home.”
“This guy really is
creepy. What do you think he’s planning?” Gus watched the BMW thread its way through traffic toward Nick’s street.
“Case my house for a later visit would be my guess. We’ll get to see what he uses for a ploy to get inside.”
Nick and Gus went downstairs with Deke in their wake. Rachel and Tina were talking in the kitchen.
“You won’t believe this, but the serial killer’s on his way here to the house, Rach. It would be best if you and Tina go into the safe-room for now.”
“You’re not going to kill him here, are you?”
“What about if he wants to kill me and Gus?”
“One thing I know, Gomez,” Tina said, “killing you is not a skill this baby killer has. C’mon, girlfriend, show me your neat safe-room.”
“Right this way.” Rachel gave Nick a kiss, and led Tina to the upstairs safe-room. “C’mon Deke.”
“Is he parking yet, Nick?” Gus looked over his shoulder. “Oh yeah… right out front in his own Beamer. This guy is something else. Do you really think he’s casing your home? He already knows about Jean. He proved that with the drive-by.”
“I know.” The doorbell rang, and Nick went to answer it with Gus at his side. The man he had seen in the Mazda earlier now stood on his porch, smiling a happy-go-lucky greeting. Nick assumed his confused but interested persona. “Hi… can I help you?”
Oliver Dansing gave Nick a small wave of his hand. At a couple inches over six feet tall, with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, he seemed in his late thirties to Nick. Clean shaven but for a small goatee, Dansing looked well-muscled in his jeans, tennis shoes, and blue windbreaker. Nick smiled politely at the wave.
“I’m here to see the owner of this wonderful house,” Dansing stated in a cheerful baritone voice. “I love this porch and your enclosed upper deck overlooking everything below.”
“I’m the owner. I like it too, for nearly the same reasons. Are you visiting nearby?”
“No. I’m very interested in buying this house. Are you possibly in the market to sell? I saw your place, and I felt compelled to stop. I would not have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least ask if it might be coming on the market.”
Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) Page 25
