Profile of Evil (6 page)

Brody rolled his eyes and said, "Here it comes."

"You know I'm right about this, Brody. You're just too stubborn to admit it. There's no one in this county who has the talent and expertise that Gabe has when it comes to computers. Ask him to consult."

"Don't we need the laptops first?"

"Don't know. Ask Gabe."

"I'll think about it," Brody said before he changed the subject. "Did Sophia's mother know why she ran away?"

"No. Tillie is one of those mothers who respects her kid's privacy a little too much. She didn't ask questions. She said Sophia was spending a lot of time on her laptop in her bedroom behind closed doors. It didn't sound like she wanted her mother to know what she was doing on it."

"Did you learn anything else?" Brody wanted to know.

"Yeah. Her mother thought that whoever Sophia was communicating with online had sent her a web cam as a gift."

"I'll call Amanda's grandmother to see if she received any gifts," Brody said. "You know what that sounds like."

"Online predator," Cameron answered. "It's in their DNA to want photos or videotapes of their victims."

"Damn it. Just what the county needs," Brody moaned as he scrubbed his face with his hands. "What kind of a monster snuffs out the lives of two preadolescent girls with a bullet to each of their brains? Why? What had they done to earn his death sentence?"

"We need help on this one, Brody." Cameron voiced firmly.

"I already told you. I don't want the FBI..."

"That's not what I'm suggesting," Cameron interrupted. "We could get a consultant who can identify the major personality and behavioral characteristics of our offender to pare down the list of suspects."

"You mean a profiler?"

"We need someone with experience preparing a criminal personality profile, so we can narrow down suspects and improve our chances of catching the sick bastard."

"I think Sheriff Brennan hired someone like that last year when he had all those murders in his state parks. I'll email him and get a name," said Brody.

Cameron nodded, then shot Brody a worried look and whispered, "If the killings are connected, like we think they are, that's
four
girls who were murdered."

"I keep wondering, why here?" Brody said. "Why Shawnee County?"

"I want answers to the same question," Cameron returned.

"Amanda Jenkins had been missing a year and a half, while Sophia Bradford had run away nine months ago. Where did our killer keep the girls all that time? Did he hide them in Shawnee County? Does he live here? Or does Shawnee County have his favorite dump sites?"

The discussion abruptly stopped when Mollie brought their food. "Hope you're hungry. The cook gave you extra helpings."

"Thank her for us," said Cameron, as he flashed Mollie a warm smile.

Mollie leaned toward Cameron and rubbed his shoulder affectionately. "You're very welcome."

As soon as she left, Brody said, "What was that?"

"What was what?" Cameron responded as he shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"You know what," Brody insisted as he cut his meatloaf into small squares.

Cameron shrugged and shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Bull. What's with the shoulder rub?"

Looking down at his food, Cameron grinned. "Don't know."

"You do, too. There was also a
look
."

"What?"

"You definitely gave her a look," Brody accused.

"You have an active imagination, bro," Cameron said, a flash of humor crossing his face.

"Are you and Mollie ...?"

Cameron cut him off. "How would you feel about it if we
were
involved?"

"Honestly, I'd be relieved. You don't know what it's like to carry around guilt for all these years because I hurt her."

"Why haven't you tried to get back with Mollie?"

"The feelings I once had for her aren't there anymore. I don't know what happened, but they just aren't. I'd only end up hurting her again."

"Okay, then I'll consider that an all-clear," said Cameron.

"You're kidding. Are you saying you're attracted to Mollie, but was waiting to make a move because I dated her eighteen years ago?"

Cameron just shrugged and finished off his meatloaf.

<><><>

Lurking in the shadows at the Greyhound bus station was the last place on earth he should be, especially on a Saturday when the rest of the world was off work, too. Being seen here could mean the end of his career and life as he knew it, but he couldn't stay away. His urges were too strong, and there were too many things that could go wrong. He couldn't afford any more stupid mistakes. The next one could be their last. It had been too long since the last time he had the rough, handcuffed, whip-to-flesh-until-she-bled kind of sex he craved. Too damn long.

Besides, he was excited about his new thirteen-year-old slave. He felt like he did at Christmas long ago, when his daddy had promised a new bike. He was itching with eagerness. That is, until Christmas Day arrived and Mom told him that his daddy had spent the money in the jar saved for the bike on booze.

He watched as his sister, Erin, stood near the door where the passengers departing the Greyhound bus from Indianapolis would file through. She kept looking at the security camera near the door. She was such a moron. He'd told his sister a half-dozen times that old Ernie McBride was a skin-flint who wouldn't put out money on a security system if his life depended on it. Ernie had told him as much last month when he ran into him in the hardware store on Main Street.

He studied his sister. Erin had changed a lot in recent years, and not in a good way. She was only twenty-six years old, yet she looked twice that age. Twenty pounds overweight, she had a habit of choosing the plainest, loosest hanging clothes she could find, as if she were trying to blend in with her surroundings. Today she had on a black hoodie with a pair of loose gray sweats and an old pair of sneakers.

Dear old dad had done a number on his little sister when they were kids. The second he arrived home drunk, he'd head for Erin's bedroom. Her screams were so loud, he had to cover his head with his pillow so he wouldn't hear them. He wondered if his mother was doing the same. Not once did she try to stop him. Not once. When he'd moved to Indiana from Utah, he couldn't leave Erin behind, so he packed her up and brought her with him.

A bus rolled to a stop outside, and the crowd waiting for passengers moved closer to the door. Erin, holding her shoulder bag close, also inched closer.

<><><>

Her mouth curved into an unconscious smile the moment Alison spotted the sign announcing Morel city limits. She'd made it. She was in Morel, Indiana, and minutes from throwing herself into Anthony's arms.

The driver slowed the bus as they drove through the Main Street downtown area, the tires bumping as it navigated the brick-lined street. Colorful renovated shops and restaurants lined the street, and Alison examined both sides. A red-striped awning graced the front of a floral shop. Mollie's Cafe boasted a neon light in the front glass window, and the window of a women's apparel shop had a large yellow sale sign. Anthony told her that his mom owned a teen clothing shop and she could work there after school, but she didn't see it.

Alison was a bit nervous about meeting Anthony's mother and prayed she would like her. It was so kind of his mom to let her stay with them until she finished school. Anthony said his mom had spent hours fixing up a bedroom suite for her in the basement. He said Alison could decorate it any way she wanted.

Finally the bus rolled into the Greyhound station at Morel, and Alison wanted to leap from her seat and cheer. She thought the ride would never end. All she could think about was her Anthony and how much she loved him. She turned on her iPhone to gaze at his photo. He was the hottest boy she'd ever seen. None of the boys at her school even came close. She'd see him soon, for the first time, and the excitement was almost too much for her to bear. Turning off her iPhone, she threw it into her backpack per Anthony's instructions. Alison was supposed to have done this back in Indy, but she'd forgotten until now. Anthony had reminded her that her stepfather could find her through her phone's GPS, and that it was best she got rid of it.

The bus driver handed Alison her rolling blue suitcase, and she followed the others to the station. She strained her neck to see around the people in line to the ones inside the station, but didn't see Anthony. Where was he? The line moved slowly, causing her to shuffle along behind the travelers in front of her. Inching closer to the open station door, she again scanned the area looking for Anthony but still did not find him in the crowd.

Finally inside the station, she held on tightly to her suitcase, and watched as the others on her bus were greeted with hugs and pats on the back. Still she did not see Anthony. A light touch on her arm caused Alison to spin around. Anthony?

A heavy woman in a black hoodie smiled at her and asked, "Are you Alison?"

Alison looked up, confused. "Yes, my name is Alison."

"Hello, Alison. I'm Mrs. Burns. Anthony's mom," she said quickly, as if she were in a hurry. "Anthony got tied up and asked me to pick you up."

"Oh," Alison said with obvious disappointment.

"Now, now, you'll see him soon. Is this your only suitcase?"

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Burns," Alison offered politely.

But Mrs. Burns was already walking away, pulling Alison's suitcase behind her. Alison hurried after her. Soon they reached the door that led to a small parking lot. Alison followed Mrs. Burns to a small dark green car and helped her push the heavy suitcase into the trunk.

Once they were in the car, Alison repeated, "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Burns. Thanks for picking me up."

Mrs. Burns gave her a little nod, and then turned the key in the ignition to start the car. She backed up the car to turn around, and headed toward Main Street.

Mrs. Burns drove in silence as Alison took in her new surroundings. They were in the outskirts of town when Mrs. Burns braked for a stop sign. Suddenly the back door ripped open, and a man in a ski mask burst inside.

"What the...?" Terrified Alison whipped around in her seat, choking back a cry. Mrs. Burns just sat in the driver's seat looking straight ahead.

"Hello, Alison. I've waited a long time to meet you."

She opened her mouth to scream just as his stun gun slammed against her neck, causing her to collapse in her seat.

"Damn it. What are you doing here? You couldn't wait until I got her home?!" Erin shouted.

"Shut the fuck up and drive. Now!" He pulled the lever at the side of Alison's seat that lowered the back. With both hands under her arms, he pulled her limp body into the back seat and yanked a roll of duct tape from his jacket.

<><><>

Chapter Three

Fat droplets of rain streamed down the window of the airport Starbucks as hurried travelers grabbed their Cafe Mochas and rushed toward their gate. Brody sipped his cappuccino and did some people-watching while Cameron read email on his laptop. The scent of newly brewed coffee and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafted in the air, as the friendly chatter of travelers competed with the thick whirr of the frothing machine.

Cameron was the first to break the silence. "I still can't believe you're flying to Florida to talk to some ex-FBI agent turned consultant who could very well tell you to take a hike."

"This is one of those situations where I can't take 'no' for an answer. It will go better in person." Brody's expression was serious, his eyes filled with determination. "Besides, who could refuse to help us? We've got a monster who's already killed four girls. He won't stop. Serial killers can't. There will be more murders unless he's stopped."

"How much do you know about this consultant?"

"I know he helped Tim Brennan solve a serial murder case in his county last year. Brennan recommends him. That's all I need to know."

"So Sheriff Brennan is still your mentor?"

"Yeah, he's the best. I'm one of the youngest sheriffs in the state. I got lucky when Tim Brennan took me under his wing. He's one of the smartest men I've ever met," Brody said.

Brody remembered the first time he met Tim Brennan. Tim had rushed to the hospital when he'd received word Brody's mother had been shot. The two men were in the hospital waiting room when the E.R. doctor appeared and told them she wouldn't make it. A bond between the two had taken Brody through the rough days of caring for his brothers while attending the police academy, until now, when Brody was searching for a monster.

Cameron gulped down the rest of his coffee and asked, "Brody, how the hell did you get the county commission to approve funding for a consultant? It wasn't too long ago they voted against getting laptops for patrol cars because they thought they were toys."