by Geri Foster
She was through fixing men’s lives.
That had been her problem in every other relationship she’d gotten into. She’d feel sorry for the guy, do everything in her power to help him get his life straightened out, only for them to go back to their old ways and leave her to clean up the mess they left behind.
No thank you.
She and Lincoln met at the front of the motel. “Do you think we should leave the car here and travel together?” she asked. “I don’t see anything unusual, do you?”
“No. We’ll let another agent come for your car. You drive with me. When we get to Dallas, I’m trading in our car for SUVs with tinted windows. This way, whoever is after you won’t know which vehicle you’re in. I’m through playing into his hands.”
“I think that’s a good idea. I never realized what a good target I made.” Mia’s sarcasm screamed loud and clear.
“I’m about sick of this guy taking pot shots at you. Enough is enough.” He opened the door for her and allowed her to get seated before closing the door. His eyes constantly moved around the parking lot.
Once he got inside the car, Mia looked at him. “Do you think we should head on to Dallas or stop by the office?”
“I called Austin and told him what we learned last night. He thinks going to Dallas and looking at the files with new eyes and ideas is a good place to start.”
His phone rang. “Hightower.”
Silence as he flipped on the emergency sirens. That could only mean one thing.
He hung up the phone and glanced over at her. “They’ve found another body.”
“Tossed alongside the road?”
“No. Buried on a piece of remote property. A DHS agent was following a lead on some human traffickers when he stumbled up on something strange.”
She hated hearing that. “Was she posed?”
“Don’t know yet. We’ll find out when we get there, but it has all the markings of our guy.” He shook his head. “One of the guys, anyway.”
They pulled up to the scene three miles west of Rainwater and got out of the vehicle. They had to walk a good mile to find the sight. Crime scene investigators were already on site and the ME was squatted over the body.
Mia and Lincoln flashed their badges and stepped over the crime scene tape. Looking down at the decomposed body, Mia shook her head.
The ME said, “We don’t know if this is his or not. The body’s too deteriorated, and it looks like the wildlife got to it.”
“So, we don’t know if it was posed or not.”
The ME stood. “This body is pretty old. I’m not sure we’ll be able to identify the victim.”
“Why not? We could the others.”
“From the looks of it, this one is older by at least ten years, if not more.”
Chapter 12
Lincoln couldn’t believe it. If this body proved to be connected to their killer, that meant he’d been at it a long time.
Too long.
He looked at Mia. “I don’t like this. The body is so decomposed we aren’t going to get much. It’ll be practically impossible to connect this to the other bodies.”
“I agree. Besides, I don’t want to think the guy’s been at this that many years.”
Lincoln approached the man in charge of the crime scene. “Who found the body?”
He turned and pointed to two men standing off to the side. Both wearing Department of Homeland Security jackets. He and Mia approached. “FBI agents Hightower and Alverez,” Lincoln said. “They claim one of you found the body.”
A tall, nice-looking man who appeared familiar stuck out his hand, smiling. “You don’t remember me, Lincoln?”
Lincoln tilted his head. “You seem familiar.”
“Gabe Sorensen. I’m with DHS.”
Lincoln remembered him now. They went to school together. If his memory was correct, Gabe was a few years behind him. “I’m glad to see you. I know you live in Rainwater, but you sure travel a lot.”
“Part of the job.” Gabe chuckled. “I go where they send me.”
Lincoln was glad to run into a familiar face. “How is your family?”
“All is well with me and mine. My dad had a stroke a few months ago, but he’s in therapy and doing fine. Mom’s as feisty as ever.”
Lincoln laughed. He was good friends with Gabe’s older brother, and every kid in the neighborhood knew Mrs. Sorensen made the best brownies in the world. “I continue to dream about your mom’s brownies.”
“She still makes them and they’re as good as ever.”
“I’m going to have to stop by and try them out.” Lincoln laughed.
Gabe slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re more than welcome.”
“So, tell us about what happened out here today?”
Gabe pointed to the agent next to him. “Agent Jacobson has been on the trail of a gang of human traffickers lately and they led him here.” Gabe pointed to his left. “I-35 is only two miles over there. That’s a major thoroughfare for that kind of business. He’d decided to stake out close by and see if he could catch them in the act of transferring their cargo from one truck to another.”
“Human trafficking,” Lincoln said, shaking his head. “Does it get any worse?”
“Oh, yes, it does. We deal with it every day.”
“So, back to him finding the body.” Mia wanted to hear the details.
“He was walking toward the highway to get a better look when he noticed several pieces of tattered clothing, then a few yards away, he found a femur bone. That’s when he called me, and I called you.”
Lincoln looked out over the wide-open field. This could easily be a new and different burial site. He ran his hands down his face. Just how many little girls did this sicko murder?
“The Wise County Child Killer has emerged after a twenty- year hiatus. He’s murdered three victims in the last four days. This one was murdered years earlier than the others.”
Gabe’s brow wrinkled. “Didn’t he murder over twenty victims?”
“Yes, and the number is mounting,” Mia replied.
“And now he’s just showed up out of nowhere?” Gabe asked, his dark brows knitted close together.
“It appears that’s what happened,” Lincoln said. “But, we’re not sure of anything right now. Just when we figure we have a handle on the guy, he changes his whole operation.”
Gabe cocked an eyebrow. “Do serial killers do that?”
“No,” Mia answered. “Not at all. They have specific reasons for everything they do. He usually dresses and poses his victims before he buries them. When we unearth the graves, the girls looked like they were in a coffin, ready for burial. With this girl, we have no way of knowing anything about the way he left the body.”
Gabe looked at the ME as he examined the body. “So this could be an earlier kill which sets your timeline back. That’ll throw a wrench in your case every time.”
“Yes. We’re as much at a loss today as the moment we found the first body.”
Gabe held out his hand. “Well, if my department can be of any help, let me know. We’re out of Denton, but I can go where I’m needed.”
They shook hands. “I appreciate your help, Gabe. And tell your mom I’m coming over for some brownies as soon as I find the time.”
Gabe laughed good-naturedly. “She’ll be tickled to see you.”
Lincoln looked at Mia. “We can’t do anything here. We might as well head on to Dallas.” They walked toward their car. “What do you think of this?”
“Honestly, I’m hoping this isn’t one of the WCCK’s victims. That will only complicate things more. That will mean a killer was out there for close to forty years. God only knows how many bodies have yet to be unearthed.”
“If this is his handy work, that makes him even older than we first imagined. He’s probably closer to seventy.”
“I’m totally at a loss about all this. I just can’t figure out how the guy got away with this for so long. And no one has ever
been able to identify him. No one.”
“Yeah, that makes it tough. We can’t even get a positive ID on the vehicle. No one is that smart. This guy has got to screw up sooner or later.”
They headed back to their car.
“He hasn’t so far,” Mia snapped. “And if he did mess up, we weren’t smart enough to recognize it and act. That’s on us.”
“We’ll get him. Don’t worry. And we’ll also get the person out to kill you.”
She crossed her arms. “You don’t think it’s the original killer?”
He leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He’d been wanting to do that since they woke up that morning. Now, with another body, the case going nowhere, and her looking beautiful, he couldn’t resist.
His wet lips against her mouth nearly made him lose complete control. She tasted delicious and unforgettable. He fought to keep his hands still since he wanted to reach up and cup her perfect breasts, but he didn’t dare.
He didn’t want to spoil the moment.
He hesitated to deepen the kiss for fear he’d scare her off and get his face slapped for being so bold. Leaning back, he looked into her dark eyes. “I’m not apologizing. I simply couldn’t fight the urge anymore.”
Her eyes widened with surprise but not shock, so he felt pretty safe.
She dropped her gaze, her face red. “You could’ve asked.”
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants. “I didn’t want to take a chance you’d turn me down.”
Her head shot up. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me.”
He put his arm across the back of her seat and leaned closer, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really?”
“No,” she said flatly. “I don’t mix work and romance. It never works and it’s against policy.”
Annoyed, he removed his arm and drove toward Dallas without saying a word.
* * *
Mia didn’t want to let on that his kiss had left her completely astonished that he’d do such a thing. He knew the rules and so did she. But that hadn’t stopped the tingling in her body, or diminished the taste of him on her lips, or the pull she felt for more.
Mia had worked hard to become an FBI agent and she didn’t want to lose that over some guy. A man not completely over his wife yet. She wondered if he’d kissed her or Marilyn. Either way, it couldn’t happen again.
They arrived at the Dallas office and Mia introduced him to her supervisor then went to the bullpen where other agents sat at their desks doing various tasks. She looked for one guy in particular.
She stopped next to the last desk in a row of ten. An older man, close to sixty, sat tapping at his keyboard, unaware they were even there.
“Hi, Bob,” Mia said, smiling. “How are you?” He was the man who’d taught her everything she knew about profiling. One of the FBI’s best...when they listened to him.
Bob stopped and looked up at her. “Great. What about you? Liking Denton?”
“Well, I’m not really in Denton, but close.” She waved Lincoln closer. “This is Lincoln Hightower. He’s an agent from that division. As you know, we’re working on the Wise County Child Killer case, and I was wondering if we could pick your brain.”
He smiled and came to his feet. “Sure. Let’s go to the break room where we won’t be disturbed.”
Inside the small area where the vending machines and coffee pot sat, they took a café table and sat. Lincoln walked toward the machines. “Anyone want a drink?”
“I’ll take a Diet Coke,” Mia said. Bob Morrison shook his head.
With the drinks in their hands, Lincoln returned and sat next to her, facing the other agent. “Bob was on the case with Michael. They worked it together until Michael retired.”
“I’m next,” Bob said. “I’m out of here the first of the year.”
“Well, before you go, we have a few questions,” Mia said, smiling.
“You do remember the case, right?” Lincoln asked, lifting his brows. “It’s been at a complete stand still for twenty years.”
Bob tapped his temple. “I got it all up here. Like a steel trap. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“Let me bring you up to date,” Mia offered kindly.
In a matter of minutes, Bob was scratching and shaking his head in confusion. “Not a single thing you’re saying is making sense. Are you sure it’s the same person?”
Lincoln nodded. “As far as we know.”
Bob remained silent long enough to make Mia start to squirm. Had she made a mistake coming to him?
“I think, in order to find this guy, you’re going to have to find out where he was for twenty years. In that time, a man can change a lot. Learn that, and you can crack this case wide open.”
“I agree,” Mia said, leaning closer. “But how do we do that when we don’t know a thing about the guy?”
“Records,” Bob replied with a grin.
“Records?” Lincoln asked, his confusion evident in his tone. “How’s that going to help us? And covering twenty years is a lot of records to go through.”
“Eliminate the obvious and go with what your gut tells you.”
Lincoln shook his head and Mia knew he didn’t get what Bob was talking about. As a matter of fact, she didn’t either. She’d hoped he might be more help, but that wasn’t proving to be the case.
More likely, he’d led them in circles. But, in her gut, she knew they could catch this man, they just had to find a way, and maybe Bob could still help them.
“Bob,” Mia said. “Didn’t you once do a physical profile on this guy?”
“I did,” Bob said with a shrug. “But it was so long ago. No one believed it could be correct or useful.” He laughed out loud. “Now they do it all the time.”
“Do you still have that?”
Bob put his finger to his lips and stared at the ceiling. “Now where did I file that?” He stood and started walking out the door. “I’ll be right back.”
When the door closed, doubt shadowed Lincoln’s handsome face. “You sure this guy’s all there?”
“In his younger years, he was considered way ahead of his time and brilliant.”
Lincoln tilted his head. “Maybe not so much anymore.”
Bob returned with a file that obviously had been around a long time. “This is what I have. Now, today, I’d probably revise it some, but it might help.”
Mia opened the file and Lincoln leaned so close she could smell his shaving lotion. It reminded her of their kiss.
She picked through a few sheets then held up the one with a forensic drawing of what the perpetrator might look like. She didn’t know how Bob had come to his conclusions, but it was something in a case where they had nothing.
She laid the drawing on the table and she and Lincoln looked at it for several moments. The face staring back at them was young, early twenties maybe. He had eyes set wide apart, a roman nose, full lips, and a square jaw. His hair was thin and straight. A friendly smile graced his face.
Instead of looking like a killer, he reminded Mia of Mr. Rogers. His features were soft, his mouth slack, and his eyes curious and kind. Not the picture of someone capable of murdering young girls.
“This doesn’t really fit my vision of him,” Mia said, shoving the drawing toward Lincoln. “How about you?”
He picked it up and studied it. “You say he’s between 5’10” and 6’ with narrow shoulders and slender built.”
“That’s the way I think he looks.”
“And how did you come to this conclusion, Bob?” Lincoln asked.
Bob shook his head in frustration. “You two aren’t using your heads at all. How do you think this man managed to get countless young girls to go with him?”
“We’re trying to find that out,” Mia stated, more harshly than intended.
Bob stabbed the picture with his index finger and talked directly to Lincoln. “Look, if he was a big, mean, burly man with a gruff exterior, the victims would all run away. It’s l
ike Bundy. His appearance wasn’t a threat to anyone. He was friendly, outgoing, helpful. This guy is very similar.”
Lincoln looked at Mia. “I agree with him. Our guy might not look exactly like this picture, but he’s someone who fits in, never gets noticed. Doesn’t present a threat to anyone. Children like him. He smiles a lot. Maybe he has a stuffed animal or a friendly dog.”
She hadn’t considered that. “Sounds reasonable.”
Lincoln glanced at Mia. “I can see him pull up to a curb and speak nicely to little girls. Offering candy, chewing gum. Some kind of treat that gets them to come closer. Then he has them.”
Bob leaned closer, his chest on the table. “That’s what I said. But since this case opened, everyone has been looking for the boogeyman and I don’t think this guy is.”
“You’re right, Bob,” Lincoln said. “If he was, he wouldn’t get anywhere near those victims. He’s like a mild-mannered guy who goes about his business.”
“And I think he’s been doing this a very long time.”
“Do you ever wonder why?” Mia asked. “What turns a man into such a monster?”
Bob lifted his head and glared at her. “His home life. What happens when you’re a child determines so much of the rest of your life.”
“I don’t think that’s always true,” Lincoln commented. “Some kids are raised by drunks and never touch the stuff.”
“That’s right. But usually, that’s the reason they don’t drink. They saw it as a child and made a conscious decision not to be like that.” He took a deep breath. “The way you were raised is what you become as an adult.”
“So, you think this guy was raised to kill?”
“Maybe not. Could be he lived in a house full of violence, or abuse. That’s all he knows. That’s how he handles stress. He goes out and kills little girls.”
“Why little girls?” Lincoln asked. “Why not prostitutes, or young college girls, or old ladies? All his victims are children.”
“That may be because they’re easier for him to handle. Perhaps he had a younger sister between those ages and he hated her, or maybe he saw someone else kill her.”
“What’s his trigger?” Lincoln wanted to know. “What sends him on a hunt?”
