Psychobyte (4 page)

“Will do. Gotta go, M, I can see Kurt walking toward me.”

“‘Bye.”

My door opened.

“Conway.”

“Henderson.”

Kurt smiled. “Good morning so far?”

“Crime scene, what do you think?”

“I think the answer is yes, someone has a sparkle in their eye.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shall we?”

Kurt stepped aside, letting me alight from the vehicle, then gave the door a firm shove.

“This way,” I said, leading the way into the house. “Let’s do this.”

I stood in the bathroom doorway of death number two or possibly three; I considered the Winchester death to be the first. I flipped open my notebook. “Serena Sorensen, twenty-seven, federal employee,” I said.

“Again?”

“Yeah. Serena worked for Department of Treasury in admin. The lock on the back door was forced.”

Kurt inspected the scene while I waited by the door. “Did you cover her hand?”

“Yes. Hoping we can get some DNA from under some broken nails.”

He nodded.

Soft deep voices alerted me to Lee and Sam in the hallway not far from me, waiting. “Grim” best described the collective mood. I watched Kurt as he crouched down by Serena’s body. A few minutes later, he straightened up and joined me.

“Any poetry links with this one?”

“Not that I’ve found,” I replied, pleased that the book hadn’t surfaced twice. “I did find a square of paper, just like the previous crime scene.”

“And it said?”

“‘It wasn’t easy.’”

“I see shower gel in this bathroom. She has several types. Do you think anything is missing?”

“Not that I can tell.”

Kurt summarized, “So, we have two women, both federal employees, both killed in the shower possibly while showering and in both cases, the water left running. Violent attacks, multiple stab wounds. It looks like death by exsanguination Fatal wounds to Jane Daughtry’s wrists. Serena’s fatal wound on her inner thigh.”

Sounded right to me. Except there were three deaths, counting Violet in Winchester.

“Sam, Lee, door to door, please. Utilize the cops out front. Someone had to have seen something,” I said.

Lee and Sam left.

“Kurt, the woman, Violet, from Winchester was a federal employee. Park Ranger.”

“Three federal employees then …” Kurt said more to himself than to me. “That could be part of the MO.” He paused and eyed Serena again. “Or is federal employee a signature thing for him, can he only get his rocks off by killing people in government jobs?”

Could be. That felt like a broad brush stroke. A signature tended to be things not necessary for the murder but which the killer needed for whatever reason.

“The stab wounds,” I said. “A form of mutilation – we’ve viewed it twice now. Signature?”

“Yes.”

“The notes, signature?”

“Yes.”

“The missing sleeping tablets in the first case here and in Winchester, signature?”

“Any missing here?” Kurt replied.

“Not that I found.”

“Then MO. This one may have fought back but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t partially incapacitated by some sort of drug.”

“If he
needs
to subdue the women before mutilating and killing, couldn’t that be signature?” I asked resting my shoulder against the doorframe. Playing devil’s advocate was fun.

“Depends on why he needs to do that. If he doesn’t have the strength to subdue the women, then it’s probably MO and that might evolve as his experience or confidence grows. If he can’t kill unless they’re semi-conscious, because it’s some kind of ritualistic thing, then signature.”

More to think about.

“They’re all naked, all in a shower, all mutilated, all died from exsanguination, and every scene had a note on white memo paper,” I said.

“Why is there a two-month window between Winchester and Fairfax?” Kurt asked. “Where was he?”

My eyebrows rose.

Kurt grinned and with a shake of his head he said, “Yes, I said
he
.”

“Let’s keep gender out of it for now. We can’t afford to narrow our focus that much.” I smiled. “As for where the Unsub was … Jail? Hospital? Out of state working, or on vacation?”

It wasn’t much but we had something to work with. Someone left Winchester after Violet’s murder and eventually arrived in Fairfax after a brief interlude somewhere undisclosed. I opted to start with jails. Or rather I opted to let Sandra start with jails. I am all about sharing the love.

My phone rang. The vibration rattled the bones in my hand as I pulled the phone from my pocket. The name on the screen made little sense. Mike Fisher. I showed Kurt before answering.

He grinned as an eyebrow rose. “Better find out what he wants.”

I frowned at the screen and answered the call. “Mike, always a pleasure getting a call from you.”

“Glad you feel that way. Lunch?”

Now that shouldn’t be possible. He’s supposed to be in Los Angeles, filming a new television series, not out here on the East Coast.

“You’re in town?”

“This woman I know is getting married in two weeks. Thought I’d fly in early. Try to change her mind?”

“Sure you did. Lee know you’re here?”

“Not yet. I’m still at the airport. If you can’t make lunch, have you got time for a coffee this afternoon?”

Doubtful.

“I’ll call if I can get away, no promises, though.”

“You sound stressed. Take five minutes, it’ll do you good,” Mike said.

I chewed my lip and kept my knee-jerk response in check. “We’ve got a tough case. It’s time sensitive.”

“Dinner, you and me?” He paused for a microsecond. “There is spaghetti Bolognese in our future.” I heard amusement ring in his voice.

Not in my future, buddy.

“You, me, Mitch, Lee and Tara,” I counter-offered.

“Way too many people at that table …”

“Smooth, Mike. How’s the widower thing working out for you?”

“Wearing off.”

“Sorry. Wish I could help.”

Kurt attracted my attention and pointed to a man standing in the shadow of a large tree on the curb. I peered out the window. Offenders sometimes like to watch the mayhem they cause.

“Well, that was five minutes. Gotta go, Mike.” I hung up and followed Kurt. He went left. I went right. Neither of us looked at the man, doing our best to ignore him until we’d skirted around the area and could approach without him seeing us until we wanted him to.

About ten feet out, he turned toward me. Startled he broke into a run, in the opposite direction.

Damn!

Without warning, a bass rhythm pounded in my ears. I raced after him. He ducked to the left. My fingers caught the fabric of his shirt, tearing it as he pulled away. Lunging at him, I managed to grab an arm. He stumbled and tried to shake me off. I stuck a foot in front of him and pushed.
Thud
. He hit the grass verge. A hand shot around my ankle. I tripped, landing heavily on my left side, my lungs emptying in a rush. Unsuccessfully trying to inhale, I kicked the hand off my ankle. My boot connected with something hard. The guy yelped.

Must’ve been his head?

“FBI,” I groaned, dragging my badge from my belt, twisting and shoving the badge in his face. He tried to scrabble away but couldn’t. The bass came back; this time, I heard words and recognized the song: Ace of Bass “I Saw the Sign.” Not a song I wanted stuck in my head.

A shadow fell. I looked up at Kurt. Unimpressed by the man’s behavior, Kurt cuffed him, sat him up, and then helped me to my feet.

The song played on, lyrics bounced across the road and up onto a car roof.

What did it mean? What sign?

“Conway?”

“Yep,” I replied, still trying to catch my breath. “Winded.”

“Take it easy for a minute.” Kurt turned his attention to the male. “Name?”

“She kicked me!”

“Nice name,” Kurt quipped. “She kicked me who?”

A smile edged across my lips. Unlike Kurt to play with people; that was more my thing.

“That’s not my name,” the guy said.

“She kicked me. That’s not my name,” Kurt repeated with a straight face. “Your parents must’ve hated you.”

“I thought FBI had no sense of humor?” the guy complained. “Just my luck to meet a comedian.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” I said. “Why are you outside this apartment?”

“My ex-girlfriend lives there.”

I looked at Kurt. The guy seemed familiar.

Why?

Kurt took a step back. By the look on his face, I figured he thought so too.

The song came back, louder, more insistent. Serena was happy living without him. Whatever she saw made her leave him. I didn’t need much more than that to determine he was bad news and his presence outside her home now wasn’t without meaning.

“You are?” Kurt asked.

“Matt Collins.”

Imagine? What were the odds of him being the same man I wanted to talk to about Jane Daughtry? Coincidence? I preferred to think of it as fate.

“You’re coming with us, Matt,” I said. “Helping us with our investigation.”

“What happened in there?” He inclined his head to the crime scene tape and police lights near Serena’s home.

“Nothing good,” I replied. “Walk toward that black Suburban ahead of you.”

If he was the same Matt who’d been dating Jane, he now had two dead ex-girlfriends. I’m not a fan of coincidences.

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, trying to shake Kurt’s hand off his arm.

“Never met anyone who did,” Kurt replied, opening the back door of his car. “Mind your head.”

“I’ll go back to the scene and make sure we have a forensic team on the way,” I said.

I saw Sam and Lee approaching from across the street.

“Keep Lee with you, Conway. Sam can come with me,” Kurt replied, closing the door firmly on the complaining passenger.

“Yo,” Sam said, rounding the back of the Suburban. “Transporting?”

“Yes. Matt Collins,” Kurt replied. “You’re with me.”

“All righty. Let’s get Mr. Collins back to the office.” Sam peered through the tinted windows. “He don’t look happy.”

“Anyone ever look happy in the back of our cars?” I replied. “Apart from us, that is.”

Sam shook his head. “Nope. It’s disheartening how many people don’t like us, Chicky Babe.”

“Take it easy, you two. Lee and I will be along soon.”

Kurt stepped next to Lee, facing away from me so I couldn’t see or hear him when he spoke.

Intentional. Unnecessary. Over-protective crap.

With a wave, Kurt climbed into the driver’s seat and Sam in the back with Collins.

Lee and I walked back to the house.

“You get hurt?” Lee asked.

Yep, definitely over-protective crap.

“I got winded that’s all.”

“Kurt said,” he replied, lifting the tape that surrounded the area near the front door.

“Get anything from the neighbors?” I ducked under crime scene tape.

“Nothing unexpected. Quiet, not a party girl. Worked a lot. No strange cars in the area that anyone noticed.”

Not helpful. There had to be something ‒ Collins definitely ‒ but I had a feeling there was something else.

I stood in the bathroom doorway and closed my eyes. Lee standing behind me was comforting as only the presence of Delta A can be. A video played in my head. Serena had the starring role.

Swirling images encompassed the entire room, swallowing me until Serena and I were one. Using her eyes, I searched the room for signs of the Unsub. Nothing. Serena stepped into the shower and stood under the hot water. Her eyesight blurred, eyelids became heavy. She reached for the shower control and missed. The door opened. Her head turned toward the rush of air. Steam raced from the shower. For a moment, he was there.

Short dark hair. Dark eyes. Clean shaven. Olive complexion. Serena lashed out. Her eyes closed as she fell.

What was that? My mind jumped through a jumble of thoughts and none made sense. Logic said I couldn’t have seen what I thought I saw, but it felt real.

Lee spoke. I jumped.

“Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “You okay?”

I turned to face him while trying to settle the images and find words to tell him what I’d seen.

“Chicky? Ellie?”

I held up my hand to get him to wait.

Just wait.

Breathe.

Who did I see?

His face. Who was he?

“I saw the Unsub,” I said.

Lee’s eyes darted around the room. “Ellie, it’s just us here.” His hand moved to his phone sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t. I saw him, Lee.”

Too late. He called Kurt then passed me the phone.

“Something happen?” Kurt asked.

“Nothing major.” A moment of uncertainty preceded my revelation but I said it anyway. “I saw the Unsub. I can draw him.”

“How?”

I had no way to make this sound less insane.

“I used Serena’s eyes before the drugs took hold properly. He was there. I. Saw. Him.”

“Give me back to Lee,” Kurt said.

I handed Lee the phone and waited, fully expecting him to be given instructions to take me to the nearest hospital. Lee hung up and put his away. I waited for the inevitable.

“Let’s go. You’ve got a date with an identikit program.”

Holding the sigh of relief in check proved hard.

I Saw The Sign

Kurt was waiting in my office. I acknowledged him as I entered the room, hung up my jacket, set my holster and weapon on my desk then slid into my chair.

“You want to tell me what happened after I left?” Kurt placed his elbows on my desk. His face bore the strain of a man whose patience had worn thin.

Here we go.

I opened my laptop. As much as it’d be fun to push him over the edge some days, I didn’t think today was that day. “I went back into the bathroom.”

“And?”

“And … I used Serena’s eyes to show me the moments before she died.”

“Just like that? Casually used a dead woman’s eyes to show you her death?” Kurt moved closer. “Is that how it happened? Because … this is new freakiness, Conway. Over and above your usual Christopher Chance visits or songs.”

I sighed, my irritation hiking up a notch. “You think I like this? Do you? You think it doesn’t freak me out when I see things I shouldn’t possibly be able to see?” I touched the identikit icon on the screen to open the program then glared at Kurt over my screen. “Do you have any idea how much I did not want to say anything to Lee?”