Rebecca nodded. She didn’t know the exact nature of Special Agent Gray and Assistant Director Mitchell’s relationship, but she imagined it went beyond the normal working acquaintance. “From what we can piece together from time of death, he strikes at night. He carries a knife, most likely forces them into an alley with that. Forces them down on their stomach, slits their throat, and as a final, demeaning blow, rapes them and takes the baby.”
Jordan bit her lip. The more she found out, the angrier she got. She took several deep breaths and willed herself to calm down, stay impersonal and focused. “Any similarities?”
“They were all pregnant, other than that, nothing. Didn’t work together, didn’t travel in the same circles. Not much to go on.” Rebecca smiled ruefully. “You can see why I want to catch this guy. He’s a fucking monster.”
“Can we get a sample of the DNA?” Jordan asked quickly. “We can run it in the National DNA Index System and see if we get a hit.”
“Sure, as long as…”
Jordan put her hand up. “I know, as long as it stays in this office.”
“Most likely he will strike again soon.” Matt interrupted the latest push for power. “We have to figure he’s pissed off about Julie. He’s going to be out for blood, get his retribution for not getting the kill.”
Jordan had to give consideration to Matt’s idea. His major in college had been psych and had he not wanted to be in the field, could have had a perfectly decent career as an FBI profiler. Hopefully, they could put that to good use. She gave him a cautionary glance to keep him from divulging anymore. The FBI could have secrets just as easily as the CDD. “What’s the time frame between each victim?”
Rebecca checked her notes. “At first, he was sporadic. The first three averaged every six months. The latest three happened within the last six months.”
“So one every two months. He’s moving further away from reality, and it’s upping his need to kill.” Jordan rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Think you can provide us with a copy of the file? It’s for research.”
Rebecca covered her files protectively. “I’m sure you know I can’t do that, Agent Gray.”
Jordan leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk, bringing her closer to Rebecca’s face. Her green eyes were suspicious of Jordan’s move, as she expected they would be. She was entering her personal space. “We all agreed our main goal was to catch this guy before anyone else gets killed. I’m not asking so I can take something away from the CDD, Detective, I’m asking so I can try to save the next woman, and her child before he picks them.”
Rebecca sat quietly, turning Jordan’s words over in her head. She seemed more earnest in those few seconds than she had since she walked in the door. “Fine. I’ll see that you get copies. I swear to you, Agent Gray, if any of this gets out and jeopardizes my investigation, I will have your head, FBI or not.” Content that she had gotten her point across, Rebecca stood up. “Come with me.”
Chapter 3
She ushered them out into the Bull Pen, the large area where the majority of the detectives sat, questioned witnesses, discussed case details and worked leads. It was still early, and aside from a few stragglers here and there, the place was eerily empty. Wooden desks arranged in some forgotten fashion filled the room. The uncomfortable rolling chairs that squeaked when a person moved, sat haphazardly behind each grizzled old desk. In the air, the smell of sweat and determination mingled with something else, something sweeter hung in the air.
Jordan saw several orange and pink donut boxes stacked on a desk near the back. Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for the owner. Her stomach grumbled of its own accord, and she remembered there hadn’t been time to eat.
Rebecca stood still for a moment, a frown marring her features. “Rick?”
A few seconds later, a short, stocky man Jordan put in his early forties, came from around the corner carrying two coffee mugs. He shot Rebecca a sheepish grin. “Hey, boss.”
Rebecca looked as if she may address the offense, but thought better of it. “Jesus, Jonesy. You keep eating this shit and I’m going to have to roll your fucking fat ass everywhere we go.”
“Sorry, boss.” Rick Jones, or Jonesy, to everyone in Grand, smiled and made an attempt to wipe errant flecks of glaze of his face. His eyes shifted to Jordan and Matt, and he threw Rebecca a questioning glance.
She shook her head imperceptibly then introduced them. A silent message had passed between them, and Jordan knew without a doubt, there would be more conversation about them when they left.
“Agents Gray and Riley, this fat ass stuffing his damn face, is my partner, Rick Jones.” She nodded towards the agents. “It would seem the overly generous FBI has offered some assistance in tracking down our serial killer.”
Rick nodded swiftly with none of the censures that Rebecca had given them. Jordan nodded, and as Matt stepped forward to offer a quick, conciliatory handshake, she took a moment to study him. His suit was dated, and she could see telltale signs of forgotten grease stains on his shirt. His tie hung haphazardly. His hair, a few weeks past a haircut, hung over his collar. His face was lined with the deep crevasses of someone who had seen a great deal, and been through a lot more, and she couldn’t swear to it, but would almost bet there was a flash of welcome relief in his eyes at help from the outside. Obviously not married or dating, she thought he fit the stereotype for a hardened old cop.
He smiled warmly, and Jordan was forced to amend her take on him. He pumped Matt’s hand up and down as though they were lifelong friends, and Jordan half expected to see him pull Matt into a bear hug. Where Detective Foxx was cold and unapproachable, Detective Jones was the polar opposite. She saw the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she was forced to admit that this was a man who smiled a lot.
He held up a box. “You guys want breakfast?”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened. It was one thing to be civil. It was an entirely different thing to offer her squad’s breakfast to the enemy. He reddened at the apparent faux pas, but couldn’t take back the offer. Jordan and Matt saved him from further embarrassment when they politely declined. Jordan figured the poor guy probably already had it bad enough without them making it worse.
Jordan’s gaze met Rebecca’s inquisitive one, and she faltered, wondering what Rebecca saw in her eyes. The corner of her mouth turned up as if to say I can see inside you.
Rebecca answered with another roll of her eyes. “Let’s get to it. Jonesy?”
They had obviously been together long enough that he needed no explanation. He pulled a large whiteboard towards them and flipped it around.
It was covered with the autopsy pictures of the six previous victims, all marked with a date. The only difference was that Julie’s picture was one of her still alive, and yet, despite the fact that she had survived, Jordan still flinched at the sight. Detachment was one of the ways she dealt with crime, and this case didn’t allow for that. It reached inside her soul with a cold hand.
Rebecca waited until they pulled chairs up and sat down. “This is what we have so far. First murder happened in June, 2009. Kate Stevenson. Twenty-seven year old white female. Second, in December of 2009. Amy Perez. Thirty-three year old Hispanic female.” She pointed at each victim and provided their vital stats. “All pregnant, and in each case, the MO was identical, down to taking the baby. Jonesy?”
Rick jumped at her voice. It was obvious they had been together a long time, and in those years, he had come to know her very well and could probably read her mind, a valuable asset in a partner. He pulled a folder out. “Autopsies haven’t helped much. Best guess, we are looking for someone tall, five-ten to six-two, buck fifty to buck seventy tops. Whoever this guy is, he’s not heavy, but he is really strong. All of the women had injuries consistent with being restrained and forcibly raped. Not easy when you’ve got a knife in one hand and the other pinned over her mouth. The guy is methodical though, and the MO is the same in every case. He grabs them, throws them down and slits their throat before he rapes them, ensuring they bleed out quickly. Those are all done rather carelessly. However, the incision in their stomachs is different. It’s almost as if he takes his time to make sure he doesn’t hurt the baby in the process. The cuts are very clean, and there’s no sign that he makes them quickly or in anger. Guy’s a monster who hates women, but loves kids. Weird.”