Fire Burns Hot ((An FBI/ Romance Thriller~ (Book 5))) (54 page)

“You're very happy now,” Blackhawk stated, grinning. “You’ve been given a key to the man’s kingdom.”

“Am I that transparent, Ethan?” she asked, smiling wickedly.

He simply laughed, following Elizabeth to her office.

Once there, it looked like a party had begun to congregate, ready to get to work on the assignment. Callen was in her desk chair, Julian and Tori were on the couch beside Cyra Austin. 

“I guess the gang’s all here,” she said, motioning for Callen to not get u
p. “Stay there, Cal,” she said, walking over and sitting on the arm of her chair. It was something she commonly did with Ethan too. When his hand went to her lower back, the connection offered reassurance over the secret that was being kept from the man.

“Were you both down playing in autopsy without me?” inquired Callen.

“You know me, I love to start my week checking out the corpses and talking death. Makes my personality all the more sunny and perky,” stated Elizabeth.

Ethan and Callen both snickered.

“Shall we get this show on the road?” she said, “Julian and Tori, head on out to ‘
The Pussy Cat Club
’, and check out the back of the building. If you find anything, contact base and we’ll send in a tech team. We have confirmation on victim five, and we can start trying to figure out how that club plays into all this.”

Julian stood and offered Tori his hand. He was
a little shocked when she took it. “Gotcha, Boss.”

She thought about it. “Suit up under your jackets. I don’t want to take the risk that the killer decided to escalate to the route of taking out FBI agents.”

Tori nodded. “I’ll get Julian a vest.”

Detective Austin waited until they were gone. “Want me to go with them?” she offered.

Oh, Elizabeth had other plans for the Detective. “No, you get to hang out with me and the men as we break down the profile.” It wasn’t lost on her that she didn’t look exactly happy about that. “Do I make you nervous, Detective?”

“I’d be lying if I said no. You’re the head of FBI West.” There was no way she was bringing up the woman’s relationship. It was her business and whether she agreed or not
it wasn’t up for discussion.

“Not really. He’s more the boss here at work. I just run the rules at home,” and then she switched tact. “I hear the men at work are riding you something fierce.”

Cyra shrugged. “Brian isn't happy that he’s been excluded, and Captain Gilman doesn’t like women that have brass balls and get the governor’s attention. You didn’t really make friends when you rolled into their jurisdiction.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Imagine that, the local law hates my guts. I wish I could say it’s a first, but it’s probably not even the one hundredth time.
Myself and local PDs doesn’t mesh. I don’t tolerate stupidity, half-assed work ethic, and male ego. All of which your partner is hopelessly drowning in. I’d bet he’s an egomaniac with woman issues. If I had my way I’d ass kick him to Emily Post’s school of manners, or teach him myself. Just because he has a badge and gun, it doesn’t make him worthy of it.”

She nodded. “I agree completely. I pissed off Captain Gilman by not following his direct ordinance on a case, and Leto became my punishment. He partnered me with him to teach me a lesson. Yeah, I’m lead detective, but I have to spend most of my time babysitting
a wildcard. I’m pretty much over it all.”

“Hate your job, Detective?” Elizabeth asked. If she lost the love for justice, then she might as well head on back to the squad
room.

“I love my job,
but I hate the politics. I want to find justice for the women, despite the fact that they were strippers and hookers. They were human beings.”

That Elizabeth completely understood
. “Ethan, how about you dazzle me by doing what you do best?”

Blackhawk grinned. “I’d love to.”

“When it comes to profiling, Ethan is the king of the Quantico profilers. All the peasant- profiler wannabees want to be just like him when they grow up,” Elizabeth added, grinning. “In the FBI, when you take a training class on profiling, they use him as their point of reference.”

“I’m flattered and insulted that you’re using me for my mind,” her husband said laughing. Then he went serious
as he focused on his notes. It was as if the switch was flicked, and he went dead serious. “This profile has two halves to it. First we need to get into the mind of the arsonist, and then the mind of a serial predator of prostitutes. Both are very common, and not often do they come together. It may make it harder or easier, depending on the evidence we accumulate.”

“I’m with you so far,” she said, going to her whiteboard. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s start with the typical arsonist. The setting and starting a fire is a control issue. The person actually derives great pleasure out of watching things being destroyed. Some arsonists purposely go for empty dwellings, while others risk the human lives in an attempt to save the lives. That specific arsonist falls under ‘pseudo hero’. In this case we can eliminate that aspect. Our killer isn't lighting up the motel, car or women to save them. He’s doing it to kill.”

Elizabeth scribbled on the whiteboard.

“How many types of arsonist classifications are there, Ethan?” inquired Callen, making his own notes. He was trying to learn everything he could from his brother.

“Great question, Cal. There are five classifications of the arsonist. Like I stated, the ‘Pseudo hero’ who lights up a building to rush in and be the helpful by
-passer. There’s someone motivated by anger or jealousy. Like a neighbor has issues with a family dog destroying his property, he wants to get rid of the family so he burns the house down. Usually when no one is home, and if he kills the dog in the process it’s more gratifying. After that you have the most common one. We call him the ‘fire buff’ or the fire fighter that just likes to be called to the scene. Usually it’s in smaller communities and volunteers. Again, they generally light up vacant buildings with the intent to help put them out. Death is generally accidental.”

Elizabeth thought about what they were thinking with Patrick Wells. He fit the ‘fire buff’ in a way. He got to work on the scenes post burn down.

“Then we have the person just doing it out of boredom.”

Callen laughed. “What ever happened to sitting down and reading a
book?”

“I doubt our killer falls into any of those categories.” He glanced over at Elizabeth, knowing what she was thinking. Neither was willing to let the detective in on their possible suspicions. She’d worked with the man before and could tip him off.

“The final category is the one that I believe fits our killer best. It’s the pyromaniac. They light things up to satisfy their psychological obsessive compulsive needs.”

Elizabeth wrote that on the whiteboard and circled it. Drawing an arrow down, she waited for her husband to continue. “Tell me about the characteristics of our killer.”

Ethan sat on the couch, brushing invisible lint from his pricey suit, as he thought about it. “Our killer is targeting white women, so I feel safe saying we have a white male.”

“What else?” she asked.

“The typical pyromaniac is unmarried, socially awkward, not overly attractive and usually an underachiever. Job wise we’re looking at no college career. Think more of a blue collar person who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

Elizabeth began pacing, thinking about the fire inspector. He wasn’t socially attractive, she wasn’t aware of his marital status, and his looks were average.

“Age wise is going to put him at early twenties up to forties. He’s not going to have rhyme or reason as to the locations he’s burning, like the motel. It was most likely where the hooker took him. It was a crime of opportunity. She had alcohol in the room, and he used what was at hand.”

“Same with the car then,” stated Whitefox. “That victim was killed in her own
vehicle.”

“Yes. He’s going to have little to no remorse for the acts he’s perpetrating.
To him it’s all about the power of fire. He’s lighting them up to enjoy it, to get power from it and to get off.”

“Okay, that’s the fire bug, now talk sexual deviant to me, Ethan.”

He grinned when she winked at him. “This is going to be the part you don’t like, Lyzee. Sexual serial killers are hard to profile, because sex is generally a closed door thing. Look at most serial sexual predators. On the outside they look completely normal, but behind closed doors they get off on controlling women. Hurting them and breaking them turns them on.”

Callen was infinitely grateful that his woman was nowhere near being a target on this one. He could tell his brother was thinking the same exact thing.

Elizabeth was already getting frustrated. “What about his background characteristics that make him a killer?”

“He would have started his life as a bed wetter, and possibly had a mother that was verbally or physically abusive.
It’s not limited to a mother though, and could be any other female authority figure.”

“Great, we have a nut
job with chic issues. Always one of my personal favorites,” stated Elizabeth, writing on the board.

Blackhawk continued, “
He probably grew up under tremendous pressure to achieve. His inadequacies were pointed out daily, and used to break him emotionally. The killer would have started out killing animals, or at least mutilating them. He would have used neighbor’s pets or any animal he could find.”

“Great.”

“Our man is most likely unable to keep relationships for long. He may marry, but he’ll divorce. In bed he’s going to have deficiencies.”

“Like?” inquired Callen.

Elizabeth took this one. “Impotence.”

“Exactly, unless he’s with a certain kind of woman, or in the midst of the deviant act. It could be why he’s escalating. He picked up a prostitute, and was able to get off, but then the next time he had to hurt her just a little. It turned him on, and made it that much more exciting to hear her beg. In his mind he then thought- the more begging the more sexual gratification. He then began hurting them more and more, finding it made him more turned on and gave him more
fulfillment and satisfaction.”

“He’s definitely a sick bastard,” mumbled Cyra.

“Yeah, he really is. It’s escalating. He went from sexual deviant to sexual sadist. The torture is going to become more refined, and he may start keeping the women longer than a few hours. If he lives alone, he could bring them home and start physically assaulting them repeatedly, torturing them sadistically and keeping them longer to get off repeatedly.”

“We need to find him soon,” stated Elizabeth, capping her marker. “I don’t want him having his own torture chamber in his basement. If he stays inside, we’re going to have a harder time finding him and his victims.”

“Exactly,” Blackhawk said, closing his folder. “That’s all I have for you, Lyzee.”

She nodded. “It’s more than enough to point me in the right direction.”

Detective Austin spoke up. “What’s next?” she inquired.

“Now we wait and see if Julian and Tori find anything at ‘
The Pussy Cat Club
’,” she answered, going to sit on the corner of the desk.

                                *    *     *

Pulling up to the club, Julian and Tori hopped out of the Denali and checked out the surrounding area. While he strolled the perimeter, she began walking towards the back of the building, hand on the butt of her service weapon.

Part of her flashed back to the war zone. She stood frozen, hearing the sounds and feeling the emotions overwhelm her. The flashbacks happened at the oddest times, triggered by things she couldn’t pin point. Tori stood there, simply frozen in her mind reliving a scattering of memories that surfaced at a bad time.

Julian finished his search, and started towards the back of the building. It was there he saw Tori, standing motionless. Slowly approaching, he wasn’t sure how to handle this, but Julian knew he shouldn’t startle her. After all, Tori had a weapon, and he didn’t. Going to her drawing arm, he touched her, hoping if she went for her weapon he could stop her.

“
Victoria,” Julian whispered, feeling the tremor run through her body with no acknowledgment to her name. Moving to stand in front of her, he stared into her eyes. Apparently, she was having a blackout. “Honey, listen to my voice. I know you can hear me.” The only thing he could think of was to kiss her and hope she’d focus on that. Slowly, his lips took hers and offered her the familiarity and a way back to reality. When she began kissing him back, he relaxed.

Breaking away, Tori laid her head on his shoulder and let him wrap his arms around her body. “I’m okay, Julian. Thank you,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t ask for an explanation.

“It’s okay, honey. I have you.” He let her remain against his body for a few minutes, until she was back to her normal self. “How about we look around?” he suggested, giving her the opportunity to forget what just happened.

“Okay,” she answered, but took his hand in hers.

Julian let her cling to him, noticing that her hand was ice cold. Where ever she went, it wasn’t a pleasant place to be.