After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1) (12 page)

She wasn’t there for the cash, but she was there for
his help and guidance. Like all fathers, he sensed she had a weight
on her shoulders.

“What’s the matter, honey? Whatever’s wrong, I can
fix it.”

“Not this time I’m afraid. Have you been following
the news about the ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ murders?”

“Are you on that case?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Is that the one where the young woman, into Satan
worship, chopped up her friend with a meat clever, bashed her head
with a hammer, and then carved a pentagram into her chest?”

He displayed a squeamish, repulsed and agonized look
on his face.

“Hmm, this is going to take longer than I thought,”
Mika said.

“Good. We can go to lunch. Where––”

“Dad stop, I can’t go to lunch. What I need is some
real good fatherly advice. I’m at a dead end. I’ve this case and
there’re no clues, there’s little to go on, and people are dying. I
can’t seem to find the answer.”

Her distress elicited his compassion. His hand
raised and scratched at an eyebrow, while he paced.

“I’m really not a criminal investigator, honey, but
have you tried a bribe?”

“A bribe?”

“Yeah, a reward for information? Pay a ‘snitch’ I
think you call them. Money usually produces results. I remember for
five hundred, you could send a guy to the hospital. For a thousand,
he wouldn’t remember his name. For five thousand, he’d be floating
face down. Guess that wouldn’t work for an FBI agent,” he said.

The joking ended and he became philosophical.

“That’s some job you do, always dealing with the
bottom of the food chain, slimy bastards—just like old dad. Hey,
why don’t you come and work with me. You could have a nice office,
be a vice-president, you could take long lunches, and you could
still deal with the bottom of the food chain.”

Mika laughed and the weight on her shoulders
appeared to lift if only for a moment.

“Actually, dad, you have no idea how good that
sounds right now.”

She let the offer float around in her thoughts for a
while, savoring it.

“But I can’t. I like catching bad guys. I lock them
up, and lose the key. I just can’t find this bad guy.”

She grabbed his arm and tugged.

“I thought you might have some fatherly wisdom
gathered over the centuries that could help me.”

“Centuries, I look that old, huh?”

He dropped back down in his chair.

“I need to start working out.”

He pretended to take his pulse.

“I don’t really know what to tell you, except that
if anyone’s going to catch the screwball––it’ll be you. You’re
relentless, always have been, ever since your were this high.”

He held his hand out parallel about four feet off
the floor for emphasis.

“The guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I’m working with Jake on this.”

Mika’s eyes locked on to her father’s.

“Jake?”

He couldn’t hide his enthusiasm.

“I always liked him. You two were a good, no a great
match, How’s he doing?”

“He seems okay now, but he had a rough one a few
weeks ago, shot and killed a teenage girl. She had it coming, but
he took it hard. He doesn’t want to show it, but he’s still
struggling. Then on top of that, the department’s therapist, the
one Jake was required to see because of the shooting, turns up as
my perp’s eleventh victim.”

A head popped in at the conference room door. The
eyebrows were high and the smile half-hearted.

“Are you ready for us yet, sir?”

Robert glared back. The door closed again.

“If it’s fatherly advice you want, okay here it is.
Keep your chin up, and your head down. I don’t know what to tell
you about the murders, but I do suggest you get out of crime
fighting and get a life. You and Jake would still make a great
team. You know when you two were together, you were happy. That’s
the best I got, babe.”

She kissed his cheek while his words ping-ponged
inside of her head.

“Thanks dad, I love you so much.”

* * *

I was never good at relationships. It had something
to do with being abandoned as a kid. It also had something to do
with being a male. We either try too hard, or not hard enough. In
our defense, no one ever taught us how to behave in a loving
relationship. By the time we figure it all out, it’s too late.

“Lori?”

“Jake, I’m glad you called.”

She recognized my voice. If she did nothing else,
but talk to me with her sweet, sensual voice, I could listen for a
lifetime.

“How was your day?”

It’s important I don’t scare her off. Cops have a
way of making people feel nervous. I want desperately to tell her I
think about her all the time.

Don’t screw this up, Jake.

“Oh, it’s been a beautiful day. There is a special
feeling in the air I just can’t explain. And to think it’s not over
yet,” Lori said.

She hoped I was picking up, what she put down.

“Did you still want to get together?”

“I’m still at the office, but I’m officially off
duty.”

The tight fist pull-down was only part of my
celebration.

Be cool, Jake.

“It looks stormy outside, and I hate to drive in the
rain. Any chance I can get you to pick me up?” she says.

“Sure, what time is good for you? I need to stop at
home and clean up first.”

“Seven, if that works for you?”

“Seven’s perfect.”

I try not to sound over anxious.

“All I need to know now Jake is what you have
planned for the evening.”

“I was thinking about a place that is rather unique
and different.”

“Unique and different, sounds like I should dress to
kill.”

* * *

It’s Quantico on line two, an Agent Wellington from
B-S-U, Agent Scott,” the secretary said.

Mika reached for the black phone on her temporary
desk.

“Thanks, Becky.”

“Not familiar with “B-S-U,” Fairchild said.

He shrugged at Mika and whispered.

“BSU––Bullshit University?”

She grinned and whispered back.

“Behavioral Science Unit.”

She got a smile and a nod back.

“What have you got for me Wellington, it had better
be good. I’m drowning in the dead sea of clues here.”

She pressed speakerphone.

“Agent Scott, we added all of the new data,
including our latest gentleman, to the stew and the CIAP matrix has
formulated a few answers.”

Wellington tried to sound highly technical and
official.

Ed looked lost. He asked for a definition again.

“What the hell is the CIAP matrix?”

She waved it off as unimportant. With a sensual
tone, she spoke into the phone.

“Give it to me.”

Agent Wellington had harbored that very thought on
many occasions. He and Mika were new hire classmates, and he had a
serious crush on her ever since. Although he never expressed his
deep feelings, he was always the first to volunteer if she needed
help. Mika, aware of his puppy love, took every opportunity to use
double-entendres and suggestive phrases to tease him to death. He
loved it. He worked harder at the job when she did. He kept up his
hopes of getting into her pants. In Mika’s mind, she classified it
as legitimate sexual harassment role reversal. Wellington took a
breath and passed on his findings.

“Our victims are all powerful men––a politician, a
priest, well you know the list. The only other authority figure he
has not targeted so far would be a law enforcement officer. I
cross-checked the victim’s phone numbers, there’s no connections
between the victims.”

“I’d categorize him as organized. The fact that he
leaves nothing behind supports that.”

“Very definitely, he doesn’t appear to have any
other agenda, except for the authority angle. He’s not motivated by
thrill, or lust, fame, social change, or religion. There is no
robbery, or blackmail. He is, as you said, very good at killing and
covering up his tracks. One thing is for sure. He knows who he
wants dead.”

The frustrated Wellington pictured the two of them
alone on an island. He would be Kirk Douglas, and she would be
what’s-her-name, the actress. Snapping back to reality, Wellington
continued. He kept talking only to prolong contact with Mika.

“This one, while out of control so to speak, is
definitely a control freak. Our killer wants to punish. Maybe it
was something those dead guys had done to him personally, or what
they represented. I don’t believe it has to do with his sexual
orientation. Whatever it is, he is highly intelligent, very
careful, and extremely detailed.”

“I agree.”

Fairchild yelled a question at Wellington from
across the desk.

“What about timing? Is there anything in your
computer that makes the timing stand out––dates, time of day,
holidays, things of that nature?”

“I’m sorry, who is speaking?”

Wellington sounded annoyed. He thought they were
having a private conversation. Someone was in his space with
Mika.

“That would be Edward P. Fairchild, Chief of
Detectives, Homicide. He’s on
our
side, Wellington.”

She emphasized “our” to make him feel as if they
shared some special connection. She loved harassing the man.

“Sorry Captain Fairchild, I’m just being careful,
it’s my job you know.”

Ed could care less about Wellington’s feelings, and
his tone clearly conveyed impatience with Wellington’s
arrogance.

“And the answer is?”

“The exact hours varied, but all of the murders
occurred late in the day. The methods were the same. The victims
were drugged, bound, sliced and diced, with the male genitalia left
behind as either a statement, or a warning. There wasn’t any sexual
intimacy during, or after each attack.”

Mika wondered if Wellington was turned on using
explicit sexual references. In the back of her mind, she always
believed it was possible, had he not been in the Bureau, he may
very well have been on the Bureau’s most wanted list for sexual
predators. Then again, he could rise to the top spot in the Bureau
like J. Edgar Hoover did.

“He’s smart. That’s not to say Einstein smart, but
he’s street smart, cop smart, worldly. He’s probably read a few
basic psychology books in addition to knowing the law.”

The agent started to predict and hypothesize.

“I’d say it’s just a matter of time before he makes
a mistake, or loses it all together. The rational mind will come
back, and be devastated by what he’s done.”

“Are you reading from the Wellington crime fighting
manual now?” Fairchild said.

His question was harsh. Since he began in law
enforcement, he had serious issues with the Federal Bureau of
Investigation. To him, they were overrated, bumbling prima donnas.
He only dropped his dislike temporarily, since his protégé
arrived.

Mika, interested only in solving the crimes, noted
the male testosterone building and interrupted both of them.

“Do you have anything else for me, Agent
Wellington?”

Wellington inquired as to when she would be
returning to Quantico. He added everyone there missed her. He
wanted to say he missed her. He didn’t care much for their
long-distance relationship.

“Probably not for awhile, I don’t have a specific
time. Our perpetrator pretty much will decide when I’ll return if
your theory is correct. In any case, I’ve got a lot of work to do
here.”

Knowing her answer was a setback for Wellington, she
left him with a well-placed, optimistic tease.

“When I do get back, we’ll have to compare
notes.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Agent Scott.”

“Later.”

Mika clicked off the speaker. She looked at
Fairchild for a reaction.

“Are all male FBI agents as horny as he is?”

“Sit Wellington, now beg Wellington,” she said.

They both laughed. It felt good to laugh again, even
if it was at Wellington’s expense.

“You really enjoy this forensic profiling, don’t
you? You like digging into people’s heads and trying to figure out
why they do it. Me, I don’t really care why, I just want to know
who, so they can be locked up and off the streets.”

Mika watched Ed walk around and sit on the edge of
the desk. Fairchild was definitely old school. He was certain the
way of things worked, how it was done. Mika shifted, and leaned
back in her chair.

“I don’t know, I like it, love it actually, but at
the same time, it frightens me. Sometimes I think it will overpower
me. It wouldn’t take much to fall into its clutches by default. One
minute I’m stopping crime and the next falling over the edge with
it. Do you think that’s weird, Ed?”

His eyebrows slid together over the creases in his
face.

“Serious?”

“Ed, profiling is just another way to get to the
same conclusion. You use facts to see how. I use them to see why.
In the end, we just want the bad guy.”

Ed looked deep into her lovely eyes.

“I’m going to be watching you closer now. Not
because you’re a beautiful woman, which is why I watched you
closely all these years, now I’m going to watch so you don’t go
over the edge.”

She stood and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“And I always thought you were like a father to me.
To think that you’re a pervert like the rest of the boys! There
goes my last hope for mankind.”

She looped her arm through his and they walked out
of the office smiling.

“God, I miss this place.”

“Come back,” he said.

* * *

As I jump the last two steps of her front porch, a
pleasant tingle of apprehension runs up my spine. It fades when she
opens the front door. I feel lightheaded, dizzy and almost giddy.
Lori is stunning. Always detecting, I make mental notes of her
every feature, hair, makeup, breasts exposed by a drooping blouse,
a platinum necklace, and a golden, silk Oriental skirt. Her
cerulean eyes sparkle, and her smile invites. I wonder what it
would be like to kiss her. I give her my best Jake Roberts
smile.