Dragons of Zalara: Books One - Four, page 27
The principal came around the corner and halted to a stop. A look of pure horror flashed across his face. He jumped back against a wall.
“I just don’t understand,” Officer Wilson said. “Someone killed Annie, but it looked like the suspect was erased from the tape. No one broke into my office. How the hell did this happen? She didn’t deserve this. She was a great teacher, loved by her students.” His voice shook with frustration.
The captain shrugged. “Hell, if I know.”
Agnes cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I go down to the crime scene?”
“Go ahead. Good detective work that’s all, Malloy.”
Hoss followed her out of the office. “Daidhl wasn’t done with her.”
“What?”
“The principal interrupted his work. I fear he would have been more violent.”
“So, part of his plan is to cut these poor women up?”
“I told you. He feeds on fear. Not just the women’s, but ours. I am sure he got a full belly after feeding on that man’s fear. We need to find him.”
“Obviously, but how?”
“By figuring out how he knows our mates.”
“And exactly how we are going to do this?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better damn well figure it out. He’s getting more brazen and more violent.”
Neither of them spoke as they went down the hallway toward Annie’s room. Agnes caught three cameras and felt like her every move was being dissected. Maybe they were.
Cold air whooshed around Agnes, and she pretended not to notice. A white light flashed at the end of the hallway. Agnes quickly glanced at Hoss to see if he saw it, but his demeanor hadn’t changed. She took a deep breath.
The light reappeared and formed into Annie Watkins, but she had difficulty maintaining her form and flickered in and out. She looked down at her dead body that was now covered with a tarp. Forensics was still inside taking photographs. Luckily, neither Frank nor his partner were inside.
Agnes slowed as her and Hoss approached the ghost. She leaned closer to Hoss, inhaling his masculine scent. “She’s here.”
He frowned. “Who?”
“Annie Watkins. I can see her.”
He raised his eyebrow. “You can.”
“Yes, if I try talking to her, the cameras will see, and I’ll be off the case.”
“Your kind is foolish to not appreciate your gift.”
It was the second time he’d called her abilities a gift and rather than arguing, she smiled, wishing she could kiss him. But this wasn’t the time or place.
“I need you to stand next to her, so it looks like I’m talking with you.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re being watched.” She tilted her head toward a camera that was high up in a corner overhead.
“Can’t they hear us?”
“No, based on what we saw in Officer Wilson’s office, the cameras are only visual and don’t have the capacity for auditory. Stand on the other side of the body.”
He winked. “Sure, beautiful.”
Annie raised her head. “I can’t believe I’m dead.”
Agnes pulled out her iPad and took a picture. “I know. I’m sorry.” She proceeded to take several pictures of Annie’s body.
“My students will be sad. We’re very close.” A tear leaked down onto her cheek. “He was so vicious. I could feel the evil within him. He’s not done yet.”
“Can you tell me anything else?”
“He’s obsessed. I could…read…his mind.”
Her fading voice unzipped an uneasiness inside Agnes. Goosebumps slowly edged up her arm.
Annie faded, but her voice was loud enough for Agnes to hear.
“He’s going after your friend, then you. You can’t stop him. He’s too powerful.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hoss looked around the hallway for any clues of Daidhl’s next move. Besides the metallic stench, he detected foul milk.
Hoss led Agnes out of the elementary school. She’d been quiet. Too quiet.
“You haven’t said anything since you saw the ghost. What did Annie say?”
She walked over to her car. “Both Kathy and I are in danger.”
“We already knew that.”
“But it gives me an idea.” She quickly got into the car.
He didn’t like her tone and slid inside. “What does that mean?”
“Look Hoss, you’ve said repeatedly that you and the so-called Fates can’t determine who are the mates, but this bastard can. As far as I can see, we’re always going to be one step behind.”
“Go on.”
“Annie said he’s obsessed with both me and Kathy. This is our advantage.”
“What are you saying?” he asked slowly, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.
She started the car. “We could set up a trap. Kathy and I could be the bait.”
“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve come up with.”
She glared. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
He fought not to lash out at her, but it brimmed slowly out of his voice“How the hell do you want me to talk to you? When you’re determined to walk into a wike’s den.”
She frowned. “What’s a wike?”
“A ferocious beast on Zalara with a mouth full of teeth, a spiky tail, and long talons. But it pales to this creature. This isn’t a human, Agnes. This is a Mistonian. One of the deadliest creatures in the universe.”
“Hoss, this is my job. I swore an oath to serve and protect. If I can stop the killing, I’m going to do it.”
“I can’t let you do this.”
She cast him a look that froze his tongue. “You don’t have a choice. This is what I do.”
He nervously tapped his hands on his thighs. “Where are we going?”
“Back to headquarters.”
He stopped tapping and scowled. “Why?”
“I need to do a time line to see if there is a pattern of any kind.”
Her tight face looked like she was a million miles away and she needed to be looped back into reality. “He only goes after mates.”
“I realize that, but maybe they’re not at random.”
He opened his mouth, but shut it. Frustration roasted inside him like a piece of meat. He was about to argue, but it would be pointless. Why was he getting so upset? She was just another woman––a stubborn woman––that he enjoyed, and if she were walking into danger, he shouldn’t care. There were always more women––at least tons on Earth.
His fingers turned numbed and his skin chilled at losing her. He’d gone through women on Zalara like water, just to prove he wasn’t like his father. Why did the thought of her being killed leave him ice cold? The concern had to be because his lineage would end. He refused to admit it was anything else.
She parked the SUV in police headquarters and got out of the car. She stretched her back then quickly headed toward the front door without waiting for him. Stubborn wench.
The last place he wanted to be was here. Every time, he always ended up in a cell that he could easily escape, but was under orders not to. Pushing aside his unease, he easily over took her. She barely glanced at him, but didn’t block him from coming.
“So, you’re not speaking to me?”
She stopped and glared. “I don’t play games. I just don’t want to argue. I learned a long time ago that it’s useless to try and change the mind of stubborn over-bearing men.”
“Is that what you think I am?” he asked softly.
She turned, her back stiff. “All men are.”
Hoss wanted to take her back into his arms and show her that not all men were enemies, but he doubted she’d believe him. Based on the men in her life, she had no reason to trust him.
They were quickly near the interrogations rooms, that he unfortunately knew too well. She led him past the rooms to a large glass office with leather chairs, a long table, and bulletin boards. Crime photos were pinned on the bulletin.
Several men sat around the table, including Agnes’s brother, Frank. When they walked into the conference room, Frank stood and headed toward them.
“Agnes, what are you doing here? We are in the middle of doing real police work.” He sneered. “I thought you would still be using your psychic powers to figure out how to find the killer.”
Hoss narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so disrespectful to your sister?”
Frank straightened his tie. “Because she’s been a disgrace to our family for years. There is no magic in police work.”
“That hasn’t been my experience,” Hoss muttered. The dragon within him burned with fury, and Hoss shook, struggling not to fry the man alive.
Agnes held up her hands and stepped between them. “Stop. I can take care of myself.” She faced her brother. “Until the captain takes me off this case, I’m still on it.”
Her voice was surprisingly strong.
“For now,” her brother muttered.
She glanced at the photographs of the victims’ stark faces that were pinned to the bulletin-boards. “There has to be a pattern with these women… Something we have missed.”
Frank gestured toward the same pictures. “We are close to developing a profile on him, and we were going to call a briefing to go over it with your team.”
She followed her brother. “Good. It’s a start.” She flashed Hoss a warning look to keep his mouth shut.
He obediently followed her into a room that resembled a classroom. There was a podium and chairs lined up in rows. Police officers started filing into the room, taking the chairs, while Frank and his colleagues stood at the front of the line.
Agnes slipped behind the podium. When the last officer took his seat, she said, “The FBI has come up with a profile on our would-be serial killer.” She gestured. “Agent Malloy.”
The officers clapped enthusiastically. Obviously, her brother was a favorite among them. Hoss couldn’t understand why. Frank was an arrogant putz and liked to bully his sister. A behavior that would not have been tolerated on board the Orion.
Frank lifted his hands. “Thank you. We’re honored to be here working with the finest police department in Colorado.”
“We’re glad to have you,” someone called out from the back.
Frank smiled. “I have missed all of you and am glad to be back, but we have a job to do.”
The captain entered from the back and came to stand next to Hoss. His face was grim except for his eyes that looked were bleary as if he hadn’t slept for days.
Hoss understood. Daidhl was out of control, determined to kill every last mate. If he was successful killing the women here, he’d move on until all the mates were exterminated. They had to stop him before it was too late.
“Captain Morgan,” Frank nodded. “Thanks for inviting my team.”
The captain sighed heavily and folded his arms across his chest. Hoss got the feeling he was less than pleased having this team here, but was smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself.
“We have a profile,” Frank said. “The unsub is Caucasian and between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty-four years old. He’s educated and holds a position that requires planning and execution. He’s patient and works alone. However, he’s charismatic enough to get close to these women. He’s filled with anger and hates women, but there has been no evidence of sexual assault prior to the murder. He has had some medical training or perhaps a butcher since he had a knowledge of human anatomy based on his precision in cutting out the organs.”
Some of the officer’s faces paled, but no one made a comment.
Hoss thought Frank’s profile wasn’t describing the Orion’s competent navigator at all. Daidhl hadn’t had any medical training. In fact, he used to faint at the sight of blood. No, it was the Mistonian who had the knowledge, but he kept silent.
Frank’s partner, James Holmes, chimed in. “The unsub kills his victims swiftly, and he is in complete control during the attacks. Mutilation occurs postmortem. He’s arrogant and brazen, likes to create terror before he murders his victims. He’s had training in using a knife.”
Frank interrupted. “We know he probably works a swing shift, because the victims were killed in the early morning hours or prior to midnight. He lives in this area, because his victims up until now have all been confined to this area.
Hoss snorted and earned hostile stares from the rest of the men. But what could he say? The smug FBI agents were as accurate as navigating through a wormhole.
“These are lust murders, which don’t have anything to do with love or sexual meaning. The unsub attacks the genitalia of his victims. In this case, the vagina and breasts are the focal points of his attacks. Generally males who are perform such attacks, are involved in a homosexual relationship.”
Hoss bit back a smirk. Definitely wrong on that account.
The captain mumbled under his breath, “Something you found amusing?”
“No.” Hoss managed to keep his laughter contained. Humans referred everything back to sex.
An officer raised his hand. “This sounds like a profile on Jack the Ripper. Is this man copying the murders?”
Frank shook his head. “No. Jack the Ripper was an opportunist killer. He only attacked outdoors except for the last victim. He also only attacked prostitutes. Our unsub has killed an accountant and a school teacher. We still have not identified the second victim, but I doubt that the victim was a prostitute. Jack the Ripper also had worked a day job Monday through Friday, because all of his murders had occurred on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday in the early morning hours.
However, there are similarities between the two. Both killers would have come from dysfunctional families. They both would have been raised by a domineering mother and a weak and passive father, or an absent one. His mother would have drank heavily and enjoyed the company of many men. Consequentially, both men would have become detached socially and emotionally from people. In their younger years, they would have expressed this anger by setting fires and torturing animals.”
Hoss watched Agnes. She furiously moved her fingers over her iPad and excitement flickered in her eyes. He wished he were standing next to her to figure out what she was doing.
“By perpetrating these acts,” Frank said. “The unsub would have discovered dominance, power, and control, and found a way not to get caught. Based on this profile, we know one thing for certain. He likes when he’s doing. He’s gotten away with it. And he’s not going to stop.”
The captain headed up to the podium. “Thank you, Agent Malloy.” He faced the officers still sitting in their seats. “Now, you’ve heard the profile. We’re dealing with a dangerous serial killer. Be on the look out for anything suspicious.”
The men got up talking and murmuring to themselves, but Hoss wasn’t listening. All he cared about was getting to Agnes. She got to him first. The same excitement reflected in her eyes.
“Come with me.” She pulled her iPad out of her bag and hurried past him. “We need to get back to the conference room.”
Hoss followed her, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she was going to say.
“What’s going on?”
“It hit me when Frank was talking about the comparison between the killer and Jack the Ripper.”
“Much of what he said wasn’t right. Daidhl wasn’t a homosexual, and he came from a loving family.”
“Okay, but the murders, they’re the same.”
“What?”
“Your navigator is mimicking the Jack the Ripper murders. I know he is.”
“Of course. Jack the Ripper was one of Earth’s most notorious serial killers and still strikes fear in people.”
“Exactly. What better way to generate fear.”
They entered the empty conference room. “But I need to be sure.” She pulled up a website. “Look. Mary Nichols was Jack the Ripper’s first victim. Her neck was cut with a strong bladed knife. She had a deep cut that ran along her abdomen and her intestines were draped out of her body, just like Sharon Reese.”
“The Ripper’s third victim, Elizabeth Stride, had her throat savagely cut from behind, but he didn’t have time to mutilate the body, because someone was coming.”
“Like Annie Watkins,” he muttered.
“Yes, Principal Myers walked in on him.”
“What happened to the Ripper’s second victim?”
“That was Annie Chapman. She was horribly mutilated. Her womb was surgically removed.”
“But we haven’t found the second victim. We only have her womb.”
“Exactly. My guess is that she must live alone, and no one’s reported her missing.”
As if on cue, the captain entered the conference room. “Malloy.”
His voice was grave.
Agnes put down her iPad.
The captain slid into the chair across from her. “There’s another body.”
Hoss’s stomach tightened. “Where?”
“A high rise. The victim had shown up for her mother’s birthday party. Her mother was worried and got the superintendent to open the door for her.”
“Oh, God.” Agnes covered her mouth. “That poor woman.”
For such a tough detective, she had a soft heart. The woman was such a contradiction.
“I don’t understand it.” The captain ran his hand over his bald head. “How’s the bastard getting inside? There’s no sign of forced entry.”
Agnes and Hoss glanced at each other knowingly. Not being able to answer the captain, they rushed out of headquarters and got into her car. Agnes put a siren on top of the roof. The loud scream stretched Hoss’s nerves.
“Agnes,” he said. “It’s not just the victims he wants to create terror. It’s the police. He’s toying with all of you.”
“He’s doing a damn good job,” she muttered. “If he follows his pattern, the victim will have her left arm laid across her left breast. Her legs will be drawn up, her feet resting on the ground, while her knees are turned outward. Her face will be swollen, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Her head will be turned on the right side.”
Within minutes, they’d arrived at the high rise. Cop cars were parked in front, and once again, police officers were corralling the curious on-lookers back. Agnes and Hoss got out of the car and hurried to the door. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the grisly scene. By Agnes’s drawn face, she was dreading it as well.
