Serial: Volume Two (4 page)

“I love your optimism Agent Chase, but optimism is what leads to mistakes. Don’t get comfortable in it.”

She rolled her wide brown eyes, glancing towards the door as the rest of the team entered the room. Agents Reynolds, Ward and Cartwright strolled through the door looking fresh. It was as if they weren’t currently tracking down a man who was killing women and taking their nipples as trophies. The men took their seats, each casting Emily a quick nod as they passed. Once Emily had finally taken her seat, I began the meeting.

“Reynolds, what have you discovered from your canvass of the neighborhood where the prostitutes are being abducted?”

No polite small talk, no greeting whatsoever: I was on a mission and had no time for pleasantries before getting down to the reason we were meeting.

Without pause, Reynolds answered, “Not much. The girls who would talk said that they haven’t seen anything or heard anything. Not many of them are tight in that area, each one working for a different pimp or trying to make it on their own. Dog eat dog, or whatever you want to call it. I warned them that there was a killer stalking the streets and they told me they would buddy up, but I’m not sure I believe it.”

“Were there any reports of missing women in the past week?” I knew that prostitutes usually kept silent, but every once in a while they would mention something that could lead us in one direction or another.

“No. They said that every person they recognized as frequenting those streets was accounted for. Nobody even cared about the most recent victims. Said they’d never heard of them anyway.”

My hands clenched into fists and I moved to stand by the projector that would soon cast a familiar image onto the white screen in the front of the room. Clicking the remote, I displayed images of the interior of Veronica Lapierre’s apartment. Emily gasped to see that I’d chosen that information to reveal to the team, but something kept nagging at me about the supposed ability of a small female waitress to completely overpower a man of Billy’s size.

“Many of you are not familiar with this scene, however these are images that were provided to me by the Seattle P.D. of a supposed domestic altercation that occurred in the same area as CK’s abductions…”

“Agent Blake, I don’t think that…”

“Agent Chase,” I barked back. “Please hold your comments until after I’ve presented this information.”

Emily startled in her chair at the anger that saturated my words, but shut her pretty mouth, glaring at me to continue.

“As I was saying, this is the scene of a domestic altercation between a woman by the name of Veronica Lapierre and her boyfriend, Billy Marx.” Flipping through the photographs, I allowed the team to take in the obvious signs of struggle that told the story of what occurred in the tiny hovel of a apartment. Ending on a photograph of Billy’s limp and bloody body face down on the couch, I turned back to the confused expressions of my team.

“The relevance for our examination of these photos is that this murder occurred within the same week as one of the abductions and subsequent murders of one of CK’s victims. If you look closely at the injuries sustained by Mr. Marx, you will notice that the same MO was used in this murder. To date, the suspect in this case, Ms. Lapierre, has not been found.”

Reynolds interrupted. “I don’t understand. How does a domestic dispute fit into all of this? CK is abducting streetwalkers and killing them off. From what’s been determined, he doesn’t keep them very long at all. How can the disappearance of this woman factor in?”

“If you’ll allow me to conclude this presentation without interruption, Agent Reynolds, then you might understand.” It was a warning and one that Agent Reynolds took to heart. Sitting back in his chair, he breathed out a steadying breath and folded his hands together on the table at which he sat.

“Up until now, CK is known to prey on the weaker members of society, castaways that have been shunned by their families, friends and significant others. These are women who have nothing; no money, no steady jobs and no social networks that would alert the police to their absence. As you all know, women who work as prostitutes generally are expected to go missing for days on end. A large majority of these women have substance abuse problems that will keep them out of contact with the people who would notice they are gone. Not only have they been shunned by society; they, in turn, have shunned society themselves. This makes them vulnerable and invisible: the perfect targets for a serial killer in their midst. Veronica Lapierre, although employed, is no different.”

Clicking the button again, I glanced up at the new images of Ms. Lapierre that the Seattle PD had been able to gather regarding her life. “As has been discovered by the local PD, Ms. Lapierre is a 21 year old single woman whose only apparent connection to family was Mr. Marx. Her father was incarcerated before she was born and she was raised in a single-family household by her mother, Sheila Lapierre, who was in and out of rehab facilities for long-term drug abuse. When Ms. Lapierre was not in rehab, she was employed as a nanny early on in Veronica’s life, however eventually began work as a maid when Veronica was approximately six years old. I’m assuming as a result of her drug addictions, she was not suitable to continue caring for the children of wealthy families. Once Veronica had reached the age of 17, her mother passed away from an overdose and rather than ending up in foster care for the remaining months of her adolescence, Veronica ran off with Mr. Marx who was 19 years old at the time. It is unknown how many addresses Mr. Marx and Ms. Lapierre shared after she ran from the system, however they ended up at 135 Englewood Street, Apt. 19, a few months before this particular dispute took place.”

Looking around at the agents’ expressions, I finally gave them the answer it was obvious they were all seeking. “Based on this information, it appears that Ms. Lapierre is just as vulnerable as our other victims. The only connection she had to society was her boyfriend, who is now deceased, and her job. Unfortunately, the industry in which she worked is commonplace for no shows and revolving doors. My inclusion of Ms. Lapierre’s disappearance is based on the MO of Billy’s murder and in terms of victimology. We are not going to locate CK without studying his victims, and unfortunately, Ms. Lapierre is the only suspected victim that has a history we can track.”

“Agent Blake, if I may…”

Turning my attention to Agent Cartwright, I nodded my approval for him to speak. Of all the agents, Cartwright was a fastidious man with more education than most of my team could hope to achieve. He was brought into the FBI after completing his Ph.D. in Sociology, but showed the potential of being one of the best victimologists in the country with his vast knowledge of the financial circumstances of many of the unfortunate targets of well-known killers. His thesis paper was a fresh look at the behaviors of a perpetrator who commits crimes based upon socio-economic factors and as such, Cartwright was immediately sought out by the bureau and trained to be an active agent in the field.

“If Ms. Lapierre was taken by CK, then this would be the first occurrence that we know of where he took a woman in the presence of a witness.”

“What witness?” Agent Chase interrupted with a sardonic tone. “Billy Marx was left with a minimal amount of blood in his dead body. Killing him was as good as plucking Ms. Lapierre off the street. However, I still fail to see how any of this ties into CK.”

Emily was riding my ass on the Lapierre disappearance with nearly as much enthusiasm as she did when she rode my cock. I couldn’t allow her to interrupt the thought process of the team.

“Agent Chase!”

Her eyes shot to me and her eyelids lowered demurely. She enjoyed it when I yelled at her. A woman in control of everything in her life, she found it seductive to have one situation where that control was taken away. In certain cases, it was the ultimate relief to her and I took full advantage of that need.

“One more word out of you that interrupts this presentation or the conversation within the team and I’ll be escorting you from the room. Do you understand me?”

She nodded, the corner of her lip curling up giving away the smile she was attempting to disguise.

Once I was satisfied that she would remain quiet for the duration of this meeting, I continued.

“Veronica Lapierre is not considered a victim of CK. I want to stress that this is my theory only and, as such, I’m requesting that my team investigate this matter silently. We’ve not been invited into the investigation, however the Seattle PD has been generous in sharing the information they have. Agent Cartwright, I’d like for you to go to the restaurant where Ms. Lapierre worked, see if a fresh voice might pull more information from her co-workers. Agent Ward, I would like for you to…”

The ringing phone from Agent Chase’s pocket was enough to stop me in my tracks. My hands curled into fists once again and I cast her an angry glare. She merely shrugged her shoulder and answered the phone while getting up and walking out of the room.

Once Agent Chase had disappeared through the door, I returned my attention to the team. “Another thing I would like at this time is to draw CK out into the open. Agent Ward, from what you know of the perpetrator’s crimes, what are your thoughts about the perp himself?”

Ward was shaken from having been called out. A quiet man, he lived more inside his head than on the outside. He was a brilliant mind trapped within a cloak of social ineptitude and anxiety. Much like the men we studied and hunted, Ward did not easily blend into the world. His jerky movements and hesitation to look a person in the eye made him appear unbalanced. Fortunately for the Justice Department, Ward was discovered while in college and his intelligence was put to good use. He was a vital asset to the missions on which he’d taken part for the Bureau and I knew that he would have a special insight into our killer more so than the other members on this team.

“I think he feels inadequate.”

My lips thinned at Ward’s observation. “How so?”

“He’s killing women that are low on the socio-economic totem pole. They are easy to abduct and easy to control. They are outcasts and he could be selecting them because he is an outcast himself. Perhaps we should be looking at ex-cons or sexual predators in the area…”

“No.” I interrupted quickly despite the look of objection on Ward’s face. “From what we can tell, these women were not sexually assaulted. There was no inflammation of tissue to suggest that non-consensual penetration had occurred anti or post mortem. Sexual offenders or sadists tend to rape the women either prior to or after death.”

“But his use of a knife could be his means of ‘penetration’. Sometimes when sadists are unable to perform they use instruments to violate the body when they are unable to achieve their own erection.” Reynolds interjected.

Grabbing my chin between my forefinger and thumb, I considered Reynolds words. “You know, that might be a way for us to draw him out. If we can get it into the media that he is impotent or possible an outcast of society, he might act out or make a mistake. These men enjoy power, in fact, that’s the driving need that can force them past the line of fantasy to the criminal act itself. To possess a woman entirely is a power driven need. They think highly of themselves, despite the fact that in reality they have extensive anxiety and issues of insecurity. Let’s play to his ego…”

The door to the room slammed open and Agent Chase strode in with a grim look on her face. Her naturally tan skin was suddenly a muted pallor and her full lips were pulled into a thin line.

“You might as well move Ms. Lapierre’s status from
suspected victim
to
confirmed
.”

The hairs rose on the back of my neck at her statement. “Has she been found?”

Agent Chase moved to stand next to me, angling her head so that she could peruse the photographs on the screen in the front of the room. Shaking her head in disbelief, she patted me on the shoulder and smiled.

“Once again, Donovan, you saw something that nobody else had been able to pick up. No. Veronica Lapierre has not been found. However, another waitress from her restaurant has been reported missing. It’s only a matter of time before the bodies are located.”

Chapter Five

Jude

I opened the newspaper and spread it open on my desk. Work was a bust today; it was going to take me a couple days to get over the hangover from Marcus’s bachelor party. One month to the wedding, I was hoping to perhaps showcase Pet there, in public, for the first time.

She’d been walking on eggshells around me since the night of the party. I knew I’d been a grump, but to her I’m sure it came off more like dangerous brooding.

Part of it was my inability to finish with the girl in the warehouse. I hadn’t been able to come ever since. My own cock betrayed me, but I couldn’t be sure I could fuck Pet now without destroying her.

I choked on my need and forced myself to focus. Focus on business, boring shit. Anything to get out of my own head, my own urges.

I scanned the business section, nothing of interest, so I folded the entire thing and read the headline.

“CK Takes Another One,” it read.

I leaned in and perused the story, typical drivel regarding the waitress who was now festering away in my warehouse. There was no way they could have made the connection between my other kills and the waitress; this was all just poorly concluded grasping and conjecture. Journalism at its finest.

The story as much admitted there was nothing linking them, but of course they needed to sell papers, and nothing sells like blood and gore with a dash of sexual thrill.

I should be charging them commission.

I almost closed the paper when a small photo in the lower left hand corner caught my eye.

The dark hooded eyes drew me in and I felt a jolt of recognition when I noticed the FBI insignia on his jacket.

The photo was of the man I’d exchanged a tense moment with in the Waffle House bathroom.

He was the lead profiler on the CK case.