Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) (32 page)

“This would be news all over the country if the killings were happening one after another,” Nick stated, feeling along the body’s backside between the ground and flesh. “What’s the time interval, and how did you know to find the body here?”

“We were texted her whereabouts from a burner phone.”

“And the time interval between these six deaths?”

“One year to the day, but spread over Monterey, Carmel, Salinas, and as far North as Watsonville.” The detective held out his hand. “I can tell from your face you’re no crime scene fraud. I’ve read a lot about you, Mr. McCarty. My name’s Derek Stilling.”

Nick shook his hand. “I don’t like this. Have these killings only now been joined in a single hunt, Derek?”

“Yes,” Stilling admitted. “Until now, the time interval, victim’s spec’s, and placement wasn’t recognized. Dickerson saw the pattern, which after he pointed it out, seemed stupidly apparent. How the fuck can we piece this shit together? We’re screwed. We have no idea why this perp does this, and the rest of the cases in other jurisdictions have been put in the cold case file. They’re willing to be more than cooperative, but cooperative about what? This killer executes these girls one year apart, in different locales. They share common ages, looks, and gender, but the time between killings is a problem. We’ll of course go over all old evidence for new DNA traces. We’re lucky Neil thought to widen his parameters for similar homicides.”

Nick straightened away from the crouch position he’d been holding since getting there and examining the body. “I know you’ll check all the obvious parts of this discovery. When you say one year intervals, do you mean an exact day in March? Also, has the Gardenia bouquet been present at each crime scene?”

Stilling glanced over the notes he had made. “Ah… yes… all the victims were found in March between the 13
th
and 15
th
. There has been a Gardenia bouquet in each victim’s hands. Hey… they alternate over the six year span - 13
th
, 14
th
, and 15
th
. This is the second murder on the 15
th
. Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere really weird. I’m sure you’re aware of the Roman calendar listing the 13
th
through the 15
th
as the Ides of March, as in Shakespeare’s play ‘Julius Caesar’ where he dramatizes the soothsayer who warns Caesar to ‘beware the Ides of March’. Gardenias represent a secret love or budding desire. I’m not certain what this whacko’s motive is, but the dates and flowers may help nail him.”

“You’re certain it’s a guy? We found no indication of sexual assault, nor did the other murders have any indication of anything sexual. Only the bruising is similar on the victims’ crime scene photos.”

“I checked the bruising around the girl’s waist. Those marks were made by a very large, thick set of hands. Also, Gardenias are not common around here, and hard to grow. This bouquet was kept fresh somewhere for sale. The stems have not been recently cut. I doubt the killer grows his own, so he bought them somewhere. I don’t think he’d go the on-line route, and I wouldn’t limit investigating flower shops to the cities where the murders happened.”

“What about this Ides of March shit, Nick?”

Nick turned his attention to Dickerson. The Sergeant had the foresight to dig deeper when confronted with the murder, or they would be ruling the girl’s murder a random homicide. “I think it’s part of the game. This clown doesn’t care about the Ides. He’d love for you to finally get it all out in the media after six years. I’m thinking he left plenty of clues to join the murders, but they were missed until you changed the investigation’s scope, Neil. The sick fuck probably wants to be called some pet killer name in the media. The gardenias and no sexual assault mean something deeper, but there’s no use getting fixated on them. Once they open the other evidence, maybe that reasoning will become apparent.”

“You don’t have much respect for this guy, McCarty,” Stilling observed. “He’s managed six murders we know of with special circumstances, and we have nothing but some flowers for clues.”

Nick grinned. “I have a nine year old daughter who looks a hell of a lot like the victim here. I’m not underestimating this asshole. I’m merely sticking to the facts I see in evidence. Some are to mislead us. The gardenias only intrigue me because it’s a solid traceable commodity. Somewhere, he bought the damn things.”

“What about meeting with the parents of the other victims?”

“You do anything you want to, Derek. I’m not meeting with people devastated by an unimaginable loss. They didn’t do it, and they don’t know who did. I have some favors to call in with people you can’t know about. I have the coordinates locked into my phone. I’ll be in touch once I follow some real time data.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Stilling asked.

Dickerson had begun to suspect McCarty was far more than a writer living the good life in Pacific Grove. “I’ll drop Nick off at home. We’ll start expanding this investigation, and see if we can find more in the evidence gathered from the other cases. I know if Nick can help, he will.”

Stilling gave them the wave off. “Go ahead. I don’t know if McCarty can help, but I’ll be on the hot-seat from now on until this ends. I’m not turning down any help that can possibly find this bastard. I don’t know what favors you’re calling in, McCarty, but I sure hope they help.”

“I won’t string you along if they don’t, Detective,” Nick replied. “You’ll be the first to know if there’s a snag, or my channels are a dead end.”

* * *

Dickerson broke the silence first as he drove Nick home. “I’m not stupid, Nick. I noticed the headlines you’ve been getting on tour, especially the consulting job in Charleston. Can I help you in any way on this case?”

“The only thing I didn’t ask for with Stilling is I’d like to know how each girl was initially taken, and by what means. I want to know about drugs in each girl’s system found during the autopsies, and what final cause of death was. Did this guy suffocate them, or did he give them a hotshot death cocktail? Anything like that you can forward to the e-mail address I gave you would be a help. I guarantee we will find this shithead.”

Dickerson parked in front of Nick’s house. “Does that mean find him with his head chopped off, or alive for booking him as a suspect?”

Dickerson’s astute acceptance of what Nick’s capabilities were, garnered a straight forward grimace. “Whatever you wish for help, I’ll provide, Neil. Be very careful what you wish for though.”

“Surprise me.”

Nick laughed. “I’ll be in touch.”

* * *

Gus swung open the door before Nick could grip the knob. “Hey, brother. We’re ordering pizza for our late lunch. Is that okay with you?”

Rachel slithered around Gus to embrace Nick with Jean and Deke joining into the greeting on the doorstep. Tina gave him a wave from Gus’s side. “Pizza sounds great to me… with the obligatory shots and beers with it of course.”

“Of course,” Gus agreed, throwing open the door. “I was hoping you’d say that. Do we have a drinking problem, partner?”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that, brother. For now, I’m going up on our very scenic upper veranda with my satellite laptop, sip a few, help the police, write some more Diego scenes, and munch on pizza.” Nick knelt next to Deke, absorbing the immediate lick fest with relish. “Is it too early for you to have a beer, Deke?”

In answer, the dog hopped around as if possessed.

Nick took a deep breath while straightening. “Don’t let them see how far you’ve turned to the dark side, Deke. It’s just us for now, but there’s no telling if your outrageous canine lush behavior will be observed by people who will take you from us. Be calm, my canine partner.”

Deke immediately sat next to Nick, waiting for his next move, but glancing up at his face as if anticipating more direction.

“You’ve corrupted our dog, Nick,” Rachel observed, as she gripped him in a tight embrace. “You have too much power over him. Your bribes have a negative effect on his behavior, Mr. McCarty.”

“He’s here to protect you and Jean,” Nick replied, moving inside and shutting the door. “Deke will never swerve from that duty, and will give his own life in defense of yours. I would say that kind of dedication and loyalty deserves a beer.”

“When you put it that way, I guess Jean, Tina, and I will be serving you males upstairs as to your wishes.”

Nick kissed Rachel with no holds barred passion, but with allowance for her growing girth. It left both of them breathless as Deke broke the embrace to much amusement by sticking his cold nose up Rachel’s maternity dress. She yelped in dismay, arching away from Nick. He pointed at the unrepentant Deke with attitude.

“I should disallow the beer ration for that unprovoked cold nose attack on my mate. I see though that although perceptively on the money for a cold nose attack, your intentions were innocent. Go dog, but sin no more.”

Deke immediately went to his back, four paws in the air, and played dead. Rachel, along with everyone else gasped at Deke’s incredible understanding of nuance. Rachel saw that Nick was not all that surprised. She gritted her teeth, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You’ve been working my dog to provide unending backup for your bullshit. C’mon… show me what you’ve done.”

“You’re spoiling our moment in the sun, Rach.”

“Show us right now!”

“Fine, but Deke and I are doing it under protest.” Nick whistled a short two tone note. Deke regrouped instantly at his side. “Deke, sin no more!”

Deke went to the paws in the air death imitation immediately, causing much laughter. Nick whistled him up, where he crouched to hug Nick’s feet. “Can we please go and enjoy this afternoon on the deck with drink and pizza?”

“Sure, Nick,” Rachel said, while walking into the kitchen. “Control your dog.”

“Damn, Deke,” Nick exclaimed, bending down to hug Deke. “I think your wicked step mother threw your furry ass under the bus.”

Gus motioned him to get moving. “C’mon, Nick. Stop soothing Deke’s hurt feelings. He’ll feel great with a beer to gulp down.”

As if emphasizing Gus’s point, the moment beer was stated, Deke ran upstairs. Gus pointed at the lightning fast Deke. “He’s cured. Let’s go sip a few before the pizza gets here.”

“Okay,” Nick agreed, standing. “It will be a working break though, Payaso. I have much to explain about our mission to assist the police in bringing to justice a young girl murdering psychopath, who kills young girls Jean’s age, who also look like her twin.”

Gus turned solemn in an instant. “I’ll grab my satellite laptop, and we’ll network this puppy until we have this sucker cold. I assume you have some clues to start us with, right Muerto?”

“We do indeed. They’re not the run of the mill hints at boyish wet dreams, pornography, or Mother’s abuse. I’m sure at some point those facts will come out; but since we already don’t care why the cocksucker does it, we really won’t be doing the explanations as to why we thought he did what he did. By that time, he’ll be dead.”

“Amen to that.”

* * *

To their credit, Nick and Gus sipped Bushmill’s, drank Bud light, and nibbled hungrily at the pizza delivered for dinner. They made jokes at the proper moments, and commented appropriately in all areas of conversation. Nick and Gus also exchanged texted comments to help each other out on their screens when one or the other was asked a question. They also delved layer by layer into their serial killer, including introducing Paul into the hunt while accessing CIA assets to trace the crime scenes with satellite archives possibly covering the six crime scenes.

While Rachel abandoned all pretense to entertain Tina on her own, Jean watched the hunt with hungry eyes, devouring every keystroke with silent contemplation. Jean knew if she interrupted Nick’s networked collaboration with Gus to trace down times with satellite archives, she would be exiled to the Rachel/Tina contingent. Nick glanced at her periodically with a smile, knowing instinctively what drifted through his stepdaughter’s mind. An hour into the investigation he and Gus lost all jovial aspects concerning their serial killer target.

“Son of a bitch!” Gus pushed the laptop away, drained his shot, and half his beer. Then he picked up a huge slice of pizza. He ate in silence while watching Nick glaring at his screen while pursuing the unimaginable.

By that time, Rachel and Tina awaited the findings with as much angst as Gus showed. Jean stayed silent, watching Nick work an expanding query into crime databases across the country using CIA assets. He stopped nearly a half hour later, leaned back while watching the foggy tendrils drift across their porch from the usual ocean air meeting, and munched with deliberation on a piece of pizza. Nick hugged the vigilant Jean to him as he sat.

“You haven’t eaten a thing, kid. Have some pizza.”

Jean sat down next to Nick. “I know what you found, Nick. The monster the police want help with has been killing everywhere. How many has he killed?”

“Twenty-six, including four in the North along Oregon, Washington, and one in the Vancouver, Canada area. He also hit many beach towns on the Southern California coast. His earliest ones were along the Gulf Coast.”

“How can you catch a guy like that, Dad? Even if you join all the cases, locations, and evidence to make one of your databases, he’s killing with no kind of pattern. I watch all the crime shows. The bad guys have a pattern. Otherwise, the good guys don’t catch them.”