Cold as Ice, page 29
Eban pulled a face. He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up. “Could be time consuming to process and the UNSUB may have worn gloves, but we might get lucky. If there’s DNA in any of the other cases, we might be able to crossmatch. Where are we with the shoeprints?”
Signy pulled out the three photos of footprints, two in the snow, and another from the church hall. “The ones from the neighbor’s property are a match with the ones from the Adele Surrey murder scene. They are the same brand and size as Darby’s winter boots—which were in evidence when Adele Surrey was murdered. Unfortunately, the lab can’t get enough definition from the snow to conclusively prove they came from the same boots. The other footprints that Allan found in the woods on the opposite side are a size twelve Sorel Men’s Glacier XT Winter Boot. We haven’t been able to find the actual footwear that made the tracks.”
Had Martin gone for a walk in the woods alone after the ceilidh? The postgrad student had gone directly from work to the dance, and the snow had continued to fall until around 10 PM on Tuesday night. And, if he had, why weren’t those boots at his house? It didn’t make any sense. Were there two UNSUBS? There was only evidence of one killer at the church.
Was someone trying to deliberately confuse the cops? If so, it was working.
“The boots, the gloves—which I am betting will come back positive for Darby’s DNA—all stink of the killer trying to frame Darby for both murders.” He stared at the timeline. “That makes me think they didn’t know I was in town.”
Signy raised a brow. “Few of us did—at least, we didn’t know you were here to act as her personal bodyguard.”
Eban sent her a slow smile. “Look on the bright side, Detective. Ultimately, it means Darby had an alibi and you got the head’s up on a possible serial killer operating in the area. If you solve this thing, you guys will look like heroes.”
“Shouldn’t we warn the general public?” Allan asked.
“If you do, then you risk the killer bolting again. At least with the press concentrating on Darby, the UNSUB has a false sense of security right now. This is the first time law enforcement has had a lock on them, and this storm means they are likely still in the area. They probably think they’re untouchable.” Eban cast a look around the table. “It’s also the reason we are keeping this working group small.” He held each person in the room’s gaze. The locals had all been carefully chosen for being excellent at their job. The precinct’s two other detectives were working offsite on another big case with the RCMP and DEA. Signy Torgerson didn’t seem upset that she was the lone detective.
“If we lose this chance at catching this killer, if he or she runs or goes dormant until the case goes cold, then we are back to square one and they are back to killing again without consequences.” Darby was still in danger, and so was everyone else. They needed to catch this guy. Fast. Eban got back to the evidence at hand. “Any chance of tracing sales of Darby’s boots in Fairbanks since last September?”
“Why September?”
“That’s when Darby came back to Fairbanks after her abduction last summer.” Eban rubbed a hand over his tired face. “It’s much more likely they didn’t see her winter boots until the first snow flew unless they have physically been in her apartment.” A possibility considering how easily Darby’s fellow students gave out her key. “Maybe check that first snow date and start looking at local purchases of that style of boot within a week from that weather event. Work backwards after that if you get a hit.”
Allan frowned. “You think they’ve been planning to set her up all this time?”
Eban wished Lincoln Frazer was here, but he had a pretty good grasp of human psychology from his own training. “I’m leaning toward them identifying with her and wanting to emulate her. Mimicry is a way of fast-forwarding and reinforcing societal bonds. We like those who look and act like us.” They used it in negotiations all the time to forge a connection. Mirroring was a prime example. “Whether the killer happened to be in Fairbanks or moved here specifically to get closer to Darby, they saw reports on the abduction and subsequent rescue last summer and fixated on her. Saw her as like them in some way, maybe as an ally. Wanted to be like her. Probably in their mind they’re BFFs. On Tuesday night something changed.”
“Darby was having fun.” Signy looked up and held his stare. “The UNSUB saw her having fun at the dance.”
That made sense.
“Maybe they drugged her to ‘save’ her. Then Martin took her home and it tripped that switch that told them to kill,” added Allan.
“Assuming Darby wasn’t his target of preference and Martin simply got in the way.”
Eban nodded. “We can’t afford to make any assumptions at this point. We don’t rule anyone out.”
Signy wrote something down. “I’ll get started on creating the list of boot sales. I’ve also requested cell phone data from the tower nearest Martin’s house the night he died and from those nearest the church last night.”
“Good.” Eban nodded. Crosschecking all this information would take time but would hopefully give them a solid shortlist of names to concentrate on, which was better than having a suspect list as large as the entire population of Fairbanks.
“I think we should put out a request to the public for anyone who might have seen a car parked on the side of the road near Martin’s house Tuesday night,” Allan suggested. “I know it’s a quiet area but doesn’t mean someone wasn’t driving along and didn’t spot something.”
“Yes. Do it.” Eban pointed his finger at the guy and then turned to Signy. “Also, see if there are any electronic signals from any vehicles pinging off those towers around the same time. Talk to the cell carriers and mobile networks.” These were good potential sources of information, but it would take time to narrow it down into useable data.
Eban slumped back in his seat. “Still waiting on DNA profiles from the knife.” He frowned. “Check knife sales for the last twenty-four hours too. I don’t think the UNSUB planned to leave the weapon at the Carstairs murder. Probably not until the moment they decided to frame Darby. They’d need a new one to kill Adele Surrey.” Although this was Alaska and hunting knives were common. “Crosscheck everything.”
“The size of the smaller boots suggests this could be a female…” said Signy.
Eban nodded. “Definitely possible. Or a guy with small feet.” One in six serial killers were women. He went to the next item on his list. “The break-in at the therapist’s office.”
“We don’t know for sure it’s connected to the murders,” Signy stated.
“It’s tickling my spidey senses. The receptionist turned up alive and well you said?”
“Apparently.”
Eban frowned. “You didn’t speak to her yourself?”
Signy shook her head. “Gleeson left a message on my cell earlier and told me he spoke to her. She was in Anchorage like he suspected.”
“Gleeson spoke to her?”
Signy licked her lips. “Yeah. And, yeah, I took his word. He’s the one who reported her missing in the first place.”
Eban paced. “I want verification.”
“You suspect the therapist?” Allan asked.
He shot the guy a smile. “I suspect anyone who can squeeze their dainty feet into those snow boots—except Darby.”
Allan Robertson snorted. “Not me, then. We’re looking for Cinderella and I’m one of the ugly sisters.”
Everyone laughed. They needed a little relief from the grimness of the last few days.
“I’ll call Corinne Brown first thing in the morning,” Signy assured him. “Verify she’s alive and in Anchorage.”
Eban nodded. “Can you arrange a plainclothes officer to visit the Borealis Bar in town ASAP? It’s where the grad students hang out on a Friday night.”
“Right now?” Allan asked, looking worn out by the prospect.
Eban checked his watch. “Tomorrow.” Which was Friday anyway. “This person intersected with Darby somewhere and Darby doesn’t have much of a social life. Canvass the bar and see if anyone remembers seeing anyone paying attention to Darcy.”
Would Darby’s social life have been better if he’d opened up more to the possibility of “them”? He doubted it. Darby was devoted to and driven by her work. It made all the issues standing between them rise up in his mind, but he pushed the worries aside. After they caught this killer, he and Darby could discuss their relationship. Figure out if they had what it took to handle long distance. Or not.
Shit. The idea of not made his mouth go dry.
“Also, have uniforms canvass everyone inside Darby’s apartment complex. This person has been stalking her for some time and she hasn’t noticed them. It means either they are really discreet”—possible as this killer had been active for at least four years—“or, it’s someone she sees every day.”
Again, to him it suggested the possibility of a woman. Darby was hyperaware of men in general. Although anyone watching her would raise her defenses.
Signy yawned.
“We all need some shut eye.” He checked his watch. “Let’s go over the 911 tape and after that I’m calling it a night.” It had been enhanced and sent back to them, but the analysis was incomplete. His buddy Mike Tanner was on vacation this week and unreachable. Bastard. “We’ll meet back here early tomorrow morning. I doubt the other FBI personnel will make it here before two at the earliest.” If at all.
Signy set up the recording to play on her laptop.
“Wait a moment. I want to see if Darby recognizes the voice this time.” Eban went around the barrier and caught Darby’s gaze. The white bandage was bright against her throat. Eban was once again reminded how close he’d come to losing her tonight.
She slipped the headphones aside and looked at him quizzically.
“Come listen to this,” he said.
She reluctantly took off the headphones and put down her computer, came around the partition, looking somewhat nervous.
It would be a long time before she fully trusted these people.
He settled her into the chair he was using and rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to murmur in her ear. “See if you recognize the voice of the person on the 911 recording Adele Surrey made. It doesn’t get too ugly on the tape,” he assured her. Unless you knew what happened next. He nodded to Signy to press play.
“Leaving so soon?”
It was difficult to tell if it was a man or a woman and even enhanced the voice sounded muffled.
“May God forgive you.”
“That’s Adele Surrey,” Darby confirmed.
Someone laughed, presumably the killer, but they cut off abruptly. The sound of sirens was faintly audible in the background. He wished to hell the cops had gone in silent. This might all be over with by now if they had. Adele might have survived.
That was the trouble with hindsight—it was already too damn late.
The clip ended.
The killer had gotten lucky. Probably not for the first time, which meant their self-belief would be through the roof. They doubtless thought they couldn’t be caught, but that wasn’t true, and he intended to prove it.
At least Adele had managed to call 911. Although the killer had made her pay for it. No single stab wound for Adele. No mercy.
“Anything?” Signy prompted Darby.
Darby’s eyes were dark and shadowed when she looked up at him. “I don’t know.” She clenched her fists in her lap. “I’m not even sure if it’s male or female.”
Allan grimaced and tapped his pen on his notepad. “Glad I’m not the only one.”
“I’m certain the experts at Quantico will be able to run analysis to determine at least that much.” Eban crouched beside her chair. “Don’t feel bad.”
Darby rubbed her arms in an unconscious self-soothing motion. “I wish I could help more.”
“It was a long-shot at best. Let’s grab our stuff and head back for the night.”
He was aware of eyes following them.
“You want an escort to wherever it is you’re staying?” Allan offered.
Eban huffed out a laugh. That was the very last thing he wanted. “We’re good.”
Chapter Thirty
Darby sat back and enjoyed the view of Eban driving. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left police headquarters. He’d done his Jason Bourne thing and darted around town in what seemed to be a random pattern presumably designed to fox anyone pursuing them before they’d headed first north and then, finally, east toward the cabin. He obviously took the threat of being followed seriously. So seriously he had also done a quick check for tracking devices, which, at minus thirty, was pretty dedicated to the cause. She was grateful he hadn’t found anything.
The wind was howling, snow blowing across the road, buffeting the car like a poltergeist in a bad mood.
Darby squinted at the flakes that were coming down hard. “Do you really think the other FBI agents will be able to fly in tomorrow?”
“I doubt it. I’ll call Frazer in the morning, see where he is and what additional information they might have on this UNSUB.” They reached the turn for their road, and she watched Eban slow down before scanning the ground in front of the SUV for tracks.
“Doesn’t look like anyone has driven down there recently,” he said.
“Not in the last hour or so,” Darby agreed. “The wind will eventually blow away all traces, even in the sheltered areas.”
He grunted in agreement. He knew that. He was doing his utmost to spot any signs the killer might have tracked them down and to make her feel like she was involved in the process.
“I’m going to carry on for a few miles and then double back. In case someone is using our tire tracks for the same purpose.”
“Smart.” She grinned at him, and he flashed her a smirk.
“I might not be a Ph.D. candidate, but I have my moments.”
“You do have your moments.” She sent him a long, hopefully suggestive, look.
His smile sparked as he figured out her meaning. In the hot tub, earlier. He didn’t reply though. He was too worried this killer would track them down and was in hyper-protective mode.
She was worried too, but her anxiety had maxed out after Tim Carstairs had assaulted her and she could no longer think about her current situation without going over into the abyss. The fear of becoming a paranoid, gibbering wreck—again—meant she’d pushed the current danger to the far corner of her mind. She wasn’t being reckless. She had an armed, highly capable, full-time bodyguard, and a team of top investigators hunting this individual. But her brain was fried. It needed a break from fear.
While Eban and the police officers tried to solve the case this evening, she’d lost herself in recent academic papers on how the changes in gaseous emissions provide insights into subvolcanic conditions. Anything that could provide a reliable early warning system about an imminent eruption was key to her work. If scientists could find a way to reliably link chemical sensors to the kind of deformation data she was particularly interested in, they might make some real strides in discovering a way to remotely monitor volcanic activity and potentially save hundreds, if not thousands, of lives.
Eban was more concerned with saving one or two lives. No less noble a cause, especially as one of those lives was hers.
She touched the wound on her neck. Only skin deep so no real damage. She might have a scar, which she’d add to the collection. The cut stung and her arms were still sore from fighting off Martin’s brother. She needed to work on her upper body strength. An hour in the hot water would help, but she wasn’t in the mood, and she wasn’t supposed to get the bandage wet.
Tim Carstairs was spending the night in jail. She’d spotted his parents in the police department’s waiting room talking to Jacqui and the others, all of them looking distraught and mournful as Eban escorted her to the restroom. It hadn’t escaped her attention that he was protecting her from them and the cops as much as the actual killer.
Eban had shut down anyone trying to communicate with her and, while she felt bad for Martin’s family and her supposed friends, she was in the self-care part of the healing process. She’d reach out eventually. She would. She simply didn’t have the energy to deal with their emotions and couldn’t afford to let them into her zone right now.
What could she tell them anyway? She still couldn’t remember what had happened after the dance, and she couldn’t reveal details of the investigation. Better she avoided them until after law enforcement caught this monster.
Eban pulled into someone’s drive and then carefully backed out and retraced their journey. They didn’t pass anyone on the road.
Despite the stress of the day and everything that had happened over the last two days, she wasn’t tired. Her body was strung tight from being alone with Eban. Her mind abuzz with possibilities.
Last night they’d both been too tense to think about anything except decompressing and staying safe. Now all she could think about was the fact Eban seemed open to the two of them moving beyond friends, something she’d craved for so long.
Did that mean she was finally going to have sex tonight? She bit her lip. Was she wrong to be even thinking about anything except stopping this evil monster? But she was done cowering into a ball and crying—she’d done that in Indonesia. She was sick of running scared. She wasn’t planning on doing anything crazy, but she did not want this cold-blooded killer to hijack her joy. She wanted to be with Eban in every way, and she didn’t want to wait any longer.
“Eban?”
“Yeah?” He was scanning the trees, constantly on alert.
“Will you have sex with me tonight?”
He jerked around to look at her with wide eyes and she steadied the wheel so they didn’t slide off the road into a tree.
She didn’t want any more shadows or uncertainty between them. If the answer was “no” at least she’d know sooner rather than later.
“You want to?”
