He sat quietly and waited.
“He told me he was going to kill me when he was done... taking me. He wanted me to know that it would be over soon. He said he didn't let his prey suffer, too much.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tears fell as she spoke.
“I don’t remember anything else.”
Gabriel nodded. “I know you said you can describe him to an artist, but were there any distinguishing marks, tattoos, that you can remember seeing?”
“He's white, mid-twenties, early thirties and has a scar.” She traced her arm just above the wrist. “Here. It is big, pink, and puckered, like maybe it didn’t heal right?”
“Good. Very good. His face?”
“His teeth, they are…”
“Crooked?” he suggested, after several moments.
She shook her head like she was trying to shake the memories out of her mind. “No, they were perfect. He wasn’t ugly. He wasn’t a monster, he was… normal looking.”
He drew a breath and nodded. Gacy was a normal looking guy. Bundy, well according to all accounts, he was charming and handsome. Serial killers didn’t come cloaked in ugliness. They walked among the people they hunted without anyone knowing they were omens of death.
“My forensic artist can be here this afternoon, or I can have her wait until tomorrow if you’d like to rest.”
She shifted her haunted blue gaze to meet his. “I have a feeling I’m not going to rest for a very long time. Tell her to come.”
He nodded. He stood and offered her his card. “If you think of anything that may further distinguish him from anyone else, please give me a call. I’m sure I’ll be in touch.”
The woman dropped her head back to the pillow. “I’m living in a nightmare. I keep waiting to wake up.”
He put his small pad back in his breast pocket, not really knowing what to say.
“Hiya, Jackie!”
He spun. Anna stopped mid-stride. “Oh, dang, I'm sorry, didn’t know you had a visitor. I can come back.”
“No. I was just leaving.” He turned his attention back to Ms. Brenner. “I’ll be in touch.” His attention swung back to the vibrant nurse. “Anna.”
“Mr. Gabriel.”
“Just Gabriel.”
She blinked at him several times before a huge smile popped across her face. “Gabe?”
“Gabriel.” He growled the response giving it some gravitas.
“Touchy?”
“Not normally.”
“Awesome. See you around, Gabe.”
His eyes followed the mint green, scrub-clad body. It didn’t escape his attention that Ms. Brenner smiled at their exchange. He turned on his heel and left the room. He needed to talk with the psychologist he’d just hired and figure out what kind of sick mother this guy was. He didn't make his prey suffer too much? He shook his head. He also needed to get in touch with his contact at the FBI. From what he’d learned, serial killers escalated from smaller crimes to murder. Was it horrible of him to hope there were other victims, ones that had survived and could identify the bastard? He needed an office and a phone.
“Hey, ahh… Mr. Gabriel?”
He spun at the sound of feet pounding down the hall. Anna’s brown ponytail swished back and forth as she jogged down the hall. She stopped well within his personal zone and glanced around before she leaned forward and whispered, “Ah, Jackie said she remembered something. The guy was wearing a hat when he first pulled Elise into the alley. It was a baseball hat. She thought it had a logo on it, but she can't remember right now.”
“Thank you, and I told you my name is Gabriel.”
Anna stepped back and smiled as she continued to walk backward. “I’d get in trouble. Not allowed to fraternize and all that.” Her eyes got big, and she screwed her face into a comical expression.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think that threat bothers you in the slightest.”
Anna shrugged and kept walking backward. “Who knows. Maybe someday I’ll test it.”
“You wouldn't know of an empty office I could use, would you? I need to make a call.”
Anna pointed to the right. “Two doors down. Doc G is at lunch. He shares that office with the residents. They can show you how to dial out of the hospital's switchboard.”
He smiled and winked at the woman before she spun and trotted back to Jackie's room.
Chapter 4
Gabriel wedged himself into a tan partition and followed the instructions one of the residents gave him to get an outside line. He leaned back in the chair and listened to the sounds of the hospital. The squeak of rubber-soled shoes, the muted voices of people as they passed the door.
A pager sounded. The two residents who'd been working in the office popped out of their chairs as if they'd been launched and flew from the room. Gabriel heard the overhead speaker announce a code blue. He leaned back in his chair and watched as the doctors and nurses hustled down the hall away from where Ms. Brenner was currently housed.
“Fredricks.” Gabriel's attention returned to the telephone in his hand.
“Jamison, it’s Gabriel. How's my chief shrink?” He smiled as he imagined his friend's expression.
“Busy as all get out, but loving life. I got your information on the case you’re working. I must say I'm thrilled to be doing something other than psychological evaluations on your new hires.”
“Sorry about that doc, but I don't want to farm it out to someone who doesn't understand the type of person I wish to employ.”
“I'm counting it as job security. Not many are making the cut, I want you to be aware that a solid sixty percent of all candidates are being stamped as no-go.”
“I figured the washout rate would be higher. Are you going easy on them, doc?”
“Screw you. I know you didn't call just to bust my chops. Do you have anything else to add on our pet project here?” He could hear the man's chair creak. Jamison was a heart attack waiting to happen. The doctor weighed four hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce, but the man had a heart of gold and was one of the most intelligent, intuitive men Gabriel had ever encountered.
“I just interviewed the only surviving witness. She said the man was in his late twenties to mid-thirties, white, decent looking, a scar on his wrist. She indicated he had an accent she didn't recognize. Did you receive the medical examiner's reports, including the most recent one here in Denver?”
“I did. So tell me, did he speak to her?”
“He did.” He pulled out his notebook to make sure he reported the words exactly as they were told to him. “She said he told her, and I'm quoting her now, ‘He said, ‘I never let my prey suffer, too much’.”
“Interesting. Anything else?”
“Yeah, like I told you when I called you after I saw the scene, this murder was a deviation from the other kills. He's only ever taken one at a time. Regardless, the son of a bitch was into what he was doing. Ms. Brenner said he smiled as he bludgeoned her friend.”
“Okay.”
Gabriel snorted and waited for a few seconds before he prompted, “I'm going to need a little more than that, my friend.”
Jamison sighed before he spoke. “I'm not a forensic psychologist.”
“No, but you’re smart and I trust your instincts.”
“You can't hold me to this. Getting a second opinion from the FBI or hell, any expert witness for the courts would benefit you and this case.”
“Noted. Now spill.” Gabriel reached for a pen. An orderly pushed a linen cart down the hall toward the nurses' station. The man's slow pace at odds with the scurried response to the code that had just been announced. “Okay, I believe you're looking for someone of average to slightly above average intelligence.”
Gabriel leaned forward. “Wait? What do you mean? This guy is always one step ahead of us, Jamison. He doesn't leave us anything to work at the scene. He's fucking smart.”
“I would disagree. Based on the research I've been doing on serial killers, it isn't intellig
ence that determines how successful these people are, it is the amount of planning, and to a degree, the mental illness, such as a psychopathic personality that drives the cold-blooded determination, which enables them to kill successfully for many, many years.”
“So disturbed, with an average intelligence.” Gabriel rubbed his brow with his hand.
“Disturbed is not a diagnosis I'd care to coin, rather vague for my profession. But the psychopathic tendencies needed to plan and execute these crimes would focus the man's urges. Some people with this mental illness can cloak themselves in normalcy, and if they don't have close friends or family to identify their lack of empathy, they can go through life unchecked and, for the most part, unnoticed.”
“So, I'm looking for a middle-aged, white male, with average to slightly above average intelligence. One who is probably psychopathic but blending in. Thanks, Jamison, you just described a couple million people. Can you give me anything to narrow down my search?” Gabriel shut his notebook and tossed the pen with the Denver Catholic logo onto the desk.
“Based on Ms. Brenner's comments, I would say you have a predator on your hands.”
“Aren't most serial killers predators?”
“Yes, they all are, but your guy has identified himself as a hunter or predator when he said those things to Ms. Brenner. For example, his comment that he doesn't let his prey suffer. The man considers himself a hunter who is stalking and killing his prey. It isn't a religious thing for this guy. He isn't ridding the world of a scourge or cleansing a past deed. Of all the things he could have said, calling her his prey was the most telling. He feels no remorse; he has no sense of guilt. The women he is hunting are no more than animals to him. There doesn't seem to be any physical characteristic or socioeconomic status they all share other than being a female. None have the same occupation and the locations are vastly different. But perhaps a forensic psychologist can give you a clearer picture of your man.
“There isn't anyone else, doc. Give me what your gut is saying about this guy.” Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.
“He rapes them before they are unconscious or dead. Everything he does screams as a power play for him, so maybe he's grasping for power. It could be in his childhood he had none. As an adult he is probably in a job where he is stifled by rules. Regimented.”
“You think this guy has a job?”
“I do. He's probably highly compartmentalized. He travels to his murder sites, so he has to have money or access to money.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing that I can think of, but remember, this isn't my area of expertise. You asked me to extrapolate. I'm doing that. If your witness remembers anything else, I want to know. Unfortunately, until the authorities catch this guy, I'm afraid we'll only be able to add to our profile with each murder.”
“Okay. Thanks, Doc.” Gabriel replaced the phone into the cradle and scrubbed his face. Damn, what was he hoping for? A miracle, obviously. He stood and pocketed his notebook. Two nurses passed the door as he exited. Their faces were stressed and the conversation they held ceased as they passed him. He glanced down the hall toward Ms. Brenner's room one more time before he headed back to the Denver Police. Hopefully, their forensics team had gleaned something from the crime scene.
Anna glanced at her watch and blinked away the tears. Tears she didn't want anyone else to see. The Code Blue was an all hands on-deck event. Mr. Lewinski had coded, but the resident docs had gotten his heart beating again. His family was called in. It didn't look good, but at least they'd be able to say goodbye. If they hurried. Kay and the Chief Resident were holding constant vigil until the family arrived or the end did. It was an unfortunate fact at any hospital. Some patients did not live.
She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Damn it. She needed a moment alone to compose herself. Mr. Lewinski was a sweet old man. The large tumor his doctors had removed was supposed to give him more time with his family. Anna ducked into Jackie's room and once again stopped in her tracks.
“Hi. Are you new?” She glanced at the hospital issued scrubs and the linen cart beside the man.
The orderly shook his head as he smoothed Jackie's blankets and tucked them into the mattress. “Only on this floor. I'm covering today as everyone is out with the flu.”
Well that was sure true. People were dropping like flies. She crossed the room and the man turned away from her. “Thank you for that. She's one of my special ones.” Anna moved so she could see the orderly better. He turned away again, but not before she saw a bandage on his cheek. “What happened to your face?”
He shrugged and lifted his hand to the bandage on his face obscuring her view of his profile. “Accident the other night.”
“You should be more careful.”
“Indeed. Take care of her.” The orderly turned his back to her and headed out the door.
“That's my goal. Hey, what's your name, again?”
“I'm... Hunter.” The man turned partially. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Okay, we'll see you later, then.” Anna leaned back to get a better view of the man's features.
“Not likely.” He opened the door as he spoke and straightened. His full height added a good twelve inches, and his erect stature gave her a very different impression of the man.
“Why's that?” Anna followed him to the door.
“I'm leaving the area.” He spoke over his shoulder and pushed his linen cart out of the room.
A sense that something wasn’t quite right lingered, and her eyes tracked his progress as she closed the door. She turned back to Jackie and did a little dance interspersed with a shiver. “Damn girl, that one was all kinds of strange? Right?”
Jackie rolled her head in her sleep and sighed. Doc G had given her a sedative after this morning's draining interview with Gabriel. Anna checked her blood pressure as unobtrusively as possible, but Jackie's eyes fluttered open. “Hey.”
“Hey you. Sorry, I needed to get your vitals for your chart.” Anna pulled the loop and hook catch free and put the cuff on the small table beside her bed.
“No problem. I'm glad you woke me up. I was dreaming.”
“Bad dreams?”
“Yeah, nightmares. I swear I hear that man's voice every time I close my eyes.” Jackie hit the button to move her bed up. “The artist is supposed to be here this afternoon.”
“That would be me.” Anna swung her eyes to the door. A buxom, middle-aged, brunette stood at the door. “Sara Kirkland, I work for Guardian Security as an independent contractor. Is now a good time? The boss man said get here, so I hustled over, but I can go grab a pop or something.”
Anna smiled and extended a hand to the chair beside Jackie. “I'm going to take her temp and then go about my work.”
The woman strolled over and sat down in the bedside chair. “Fantastic. This process is never as quick as people tend to think it is, so I'll probably be here the next time you come in.”
“Well then, I look forward to meeting you again.”
Falling into the rhythm of the ward was as natural as breathing. Both she and Kay were asked to do a double shift when two of the second shift nurses called in sick. Kay grumped about it, but Anna had no plans for the night that couldn't be paused... indefinitely. Thankfully, the midnight shift nurses agreed to come in two hours early. Anna popped her head in to Jackie's room to say goodnight.
Her patient held a large piece of paper and tears streamed down her cheek. “Hey now, what's with the tears?”
Jackie blinked up at her. It took several minutes before she spoke. “This is him. The man who raped and killed Elise. The man who raped me. The man who told me he was going to kill me.”
Anna let the door shut behind her and strode to Jackie's side. “Listen, you don't need to worry. That guy is long gone. You’re safe here.” Anna glanced down at the composite sketch and literally stopped breathing.
“I know.” Jackie handed Anna the sketch. “Would you put that away for me? I d
on't think I can sleep with it in the same room.”
“Sure. Sure, I can.” Anna took the paper quickly to prevent Jackie from seeing the trembling in her hands. Somehow, she said goodnight to her patient. She would never be able to recall how. She stood outside Jackie's room and stared at the sketch.
“Hustle up, girl. Time to get out of Dodge. Morning will come far too quickly for my liking.” Kay grabbed Anna by the crook of the arm and tugged her toward the nurses’ locker room.
“No. Wait. Kay, hold on.” Anna shook off her friend and waved the sketch at her. “I think this guy was here today. If it wasn't him, it was someone who looked just like him.”
Kay snatched the sketch. “When? Where?”
“The orderly that was here this afternoon. He said he was covering because of everyone calling in sick.”
“Felicia is the day orderly for this floor and she was here; didn't you see her?”
“No.” Anna shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. “Do you think I should report it?”
“Do I think you should report it? What the hell kind of stupid question is that? Of course, I think you should report it. Go, I'll wait for you.” Kay pointed to the phone at the nurses' station.
“What if I'm jumping to conclusions or channeling Chicken Little?”
“Then the cops deal with it. The question to ask yourself is what if you're not? What if that man was here?”
A shiver rolled through her. She glanced at Jackie's room. “I couldn't live with myself.”
“Exactly. Phone. Now, you. I'll wait.”
Anna nodded and picked up the phone. She knew who to call. Denver PD and then the man whose number she'd drawn an arrow to in Jackie's chart. Gabriel.
Chapter 5
Anna dropped her purse on the bar and slid onto the leather seat. It was her third day of double shifts; she was off tomorrow, and she was utterly and completely spent. She'd wandered a block over and found herself at The Sanctuary. It was a popular watering hole with the hospital staff, but at eleven o'clock at night, it was filled with people she didn't recognize. That was perfect as far as she was concerned.
Gabriel (Guardian Defenders Book 1) Page 3
