FATAL FORTY-EIGHT: A Kate Huntington Mystery (The Kate Huntington Mysteries Book 7) (6 page)

Wallace snorted. “We don’t need the gut feelings of civil–”

A quelling look from Tim Cornelius cut her off.

Kate stifled the desire to smirk. She glanced sideways at Skip. His expression was neutral. Too neutral. Both their professions had taught them well how to hide their emotions.

Once they were out of the building, Judith said, “I’m going to go talk to the staff at that restaurant again, where Tolliver first saw our man. How about you two,” she gestured to SA Wallace and Skip, “join the officers who are canvassing at the office building. Hopefully, somebody who’s working overtime today noticed something last night.”

“Rob’s law firm is in the same building,” Skip said. “I’ll have him check with his staff. Might talk to other business owners on that street as well.”

Kate had a sinking feeling of
deja vu
. Skip and Rose had canvassed that same building, also on a Saturday, back when they were trying to stop Eddie’s killer from striking again. They’d had little success then. She prayed this time would be different.

SA Wallace opened her mouth. She closed it again when Tim nodded at her. She followed Skip, who now had his phone to his ear, as he started down the sidewalk toward his SUV. He stopped at the passenger door and opened it for the agent. She bulked for a moment, then got in.

Why’s he being so nice to her?
Skip didn’t usually have much tolerance for bitchy women. But then again, he’d been raised to be a gentleman.

She and Tim Cornelius were headed for his rental car, a tan Taurus.

Another difference from
Criminal Minds
. Apparently BAU units did not have fleets of FBI-issued, black SUVs at their disposal no matter what city or town they happened to be in.

Parking had been tight on this block so they’d had to park around the corner.

“Sorry about my partner,” Tim said as they walked down the sidewalk. “She can get a bit territorial at times.”

“Not your fault,” Kate said.

Territorial
reminded her of the current battle for territory going on between the four-legged creatures at home. She should call Maria, make sure they and the kids weren’t driving her nuts.

They rounded the corner. The morning sun glinted off the second-story windows of a high-rise in front of them. Most of the residents had closed their blinds or drapes against the glare but a few were welcoming the warming rays into their homes. One window had brown curtains, the color of dried mud, covering it.

What a disgusting color.
Kate imagined the decor that would go with it. Beige sofa, brown leatherette recliner.
Bet a man lives there.

“Kate, come back. Here’s the car.”

She turned. Tim stood next to the Taurus.

“Sorry. I was wool-gathering.”

He smiled, holding the car door open for her.

~~~~~~~~

Click, whir. This time, Sally wasn’t quick enough. When her captor entered the room, she was still suspiciously close to the window she had just been examining.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Then his face relaxed and he smiled. “Sit down, my dear.” He gestured toward the bed.

Sally hobbled over and sat gingerly on the edge, keeping her distance from him. There was something about that smile that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

“Lie down for a minute. I want to check your ankles.”

She hesitated, but it probably wasn’t in her best interests to openly defy him. Awkwardly she scooted her butt further onto the bed and swung her feet up, letting her torso drop back against the pillow.

He leaned over her feet and fiddled with the restraints.

Her first instinct was to kick him in the face. She stifled the urge. She probably wouldn’t disable him. She’d just piss him off.

“Good. No chafing. I developed this method with the last couple people.” He gestured toward her feet and then the straightjacket. “Much better than the shackles I used to use. This is more comfortable, lets my guests move about. I was rather disappointed when I had to stop. I thought at the time, ‘Now I’ve got this technique perfected and I won’t be using it again.’ But now I am.” His smile was that of a gleeful child.

Sally’s skin crawled. She struggled up to a sitting position and forced her expression into something she hoped looked friendly and interested, or at least hid the loathing she felt for this man. If she could figure out what made his mind tick, maybe she could find a way… To do what? Get him to not hurt her?

Get real, girl. He’s a psychopath.

But what other options did she have? Psychology was her area of expertise, her only weapon at this point.

“What made you stop, you know, before?”

He gave her an enigmatic smile. “I’d achieved my goal.”

“Which was?”

His smile widened, almost reached grin status. “All in good time, my dear.”

She grasped for a different tactic. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Joe.”

It was the name he’d given her over the phone when he’d set up the appointment. She doubted it was his real name.

“Okay, Joe. Please, call me Sally.” It set her teeth on edge every time he said
my dear
.

This time it was definitely a grin, accompanied by a glint in his eye that made her shiver despite the hot straightjacket. “Of course, my dear.”

He held up the water bottle, with its plastic straw, for her to take a drink. She complied.

Then he opened a tiny drawer in the bedside table. He withdrew from it the soft cloth he had used initially to gag her.

“I do hate to add to your discomfort, my dear, but we can’t have you trying to garner attention by screaming, now can we?”

She shook her head vigorously, trying to keep him from gagging her. Losing her balance, she flopped back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, straddling her torso. She tried to buck him off.

She screamed when he grabbed her by an ear. He slapped her hard, cutting short the scream. Pain exploded in her head.

He jammed the cloth between her teeth and tied it tightly behind her head, catching some of her hair in the knot.

She flinched at the sharp yank.

He backed off of the bed, panting. “See what happens when you resist. Things will go much easier for you if you just try to get along with me.” His eyes shifted back to benign. “I’ll be back a little later with some more food. I think I’ll get some lentil soup at the deli this time. It’s quite good.”

Sally glared up at him.

He patted her leg, then headed for the wall. “You behave now,
my dear
.” He smiled at her over his shoulder as he touched the magic spot.

Whir, click, and he was gone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

10:00 a.m. Saturday

Skip put his truck in gear.

“You can drop me off at that office building,” SA Wallace said. “I don’t think we’ll be needing you and your staff anymore. The uniforms can help me with the canvassing from here.”

Skip blew out air and gave a slight shake of his head. This woman was bound and determined to get rid of the “civilians.”

He pointed the truck toward Towson’s business district. “Look, whether you like it or not, we’re seeing this through. I hardly know Sally Ford, but people I care about happen to care about her.”

He decided to leave out the part about being raised to protect women. Something told him SA Wallace wouldn’t think much of that argument.

She was silent, staring straight ahead, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Besides,” he said after a minute, “this civilian was the one who came up with the lead on the apartment.”

“The officers would have gotten the same information when they got to that building.”

“But my people are speeding up the process, and time is of the essence.”

She turned her head slightly toward him. She had been blessed with classically beautiful features, green eyes and honey blonde hair, but the no-nonsense ponytail that held it captive and the disdainful curl of her lip did nothing to enhance her looks.

“Look,” he said, “you really don’t have a good reason to want us out of the investigation, so why are you so bent on getting rid of us?”

He wasn’t surprised that she went back to her silent sulking without responding. He suspected he knew the answer anyway, probably better than she did. She might not be admitting it to herself but she was threatened by him and Rose. They were more experienced investigators, and if they solved the case, they’d steal her thunder.

He should probably leave her alone, but something about her, perhaps the insecurity itself, tugged at his heart. He felt bad for her.

Pulling over to the curb, he shifted into park.

She looked around, reached for her door handle.

“We’re not there yet.”

“Then why are you stopping?” Her tone implied
just like an amateur.

Skip turned partway toward her and rested his broad shoulders against the side window. “I was the runt of the litter, and not all that popular, until I was seventeen and I shot up. When I was about thirteen, I was bullyin’ this kid who was even littler and more of an outcast than I was. Teacher caught me at it. She sent a note home.”

“And this adorable little story has to do with what?”

“I’m gettin’ there.” He intentionally let more of his native Texas creep into his voice. “I was scared plum outta my mind ’cause I knew my daddy was gonna be furious with me. But he sat me down and shook his head, all sad-like. ‘Son,’ he said, ‘when ya put others down to try to build yerself up, well ya end up doin’ the exact opposite. Ya may think yer big and strong at the time, but yer really showin’ the world just how small ya really are.’”

“Cute story. Now will you take me to the trauma center’s building?”

“Not until we come to an understanding here. You see, I’ve been where you are, fairly new at the job and unsure of myself. You can try to cover up for that by being obnoxious, but it just makes you look, well, obnoxious, not experienced or good at the job. Or you can be respectful toward those who are more experienced and then they’ll want to help you, show you the ropes.”

She snorted. “Some ropes. Your great big lead led us exactly nowhere.”

“Did it? We know now that this guy was trying to rent an apartment three weeks ago. One that had to have a special layout so he no doubt planned to hide his victim there. Now he’s kidnapped a victim which says to me he’s found an apartment that suited him.”

SA Wallace sat up straighter in her seat. “So we look for people who rented apartments in this area in the last three weeks.” She pulled a smart phone out of her purse and punched a number.

“Who you calling?”

“Our tech people. This is SA Wallace. Give me Jane Broderick, please. She’s already been working this case with my partner.” She drummed the fingers of one hand on her thigh as she waited.

Skip grinned at her. “Not bad for a civilian, huh?”

“Jane, can you find out who has rented an apartment in the Towson area in the last three weeks? Wait, hang on.” She turned to Skip. “What perimeter should she use?”

“Hmm, tell her to start with Charles Street to Goucher Boulevard, and the Beltway south to Stevenson Lane.”

She gave the coordinates to the tech.

“Suggest she start with requests to credit bureaus from apartment owners or managers.”

“But would this guy rent under his own name?” Wallace asked.

“Maybe, or he may have developed a fake identity and established credit under that name. But most of Towson is middle class enough that few landlords are likely to rent to him without checking out his credit first.”

She nodded and returned her attention to the phone. She passed along Skip’s suggestion, then disconnected. “Jane’s working on a request from Tim at the moment, for similar cases. She’s gonna call me back when she has something for us.”

Skip put the truck back in gear. “Now then, Special Agent Wallace, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He softened his words with a smile. “It’s called working
together
.”

Somewhat begrudgingly, she gave him a half smile back.

A good start
, Skip thought.

~~~~~~~~

The odor of burnt coffee, mixed with a whiff of stale sweat, assailed Kate’s nostrils as she and Tim Cornelius entered the detectives’ bullpen.

She spotted Charles Tolliver sitting in an empty cubicle. As they drew nearer, his gaze came up from the computer monitor in front of him and locked on her face. His eyes were so bloodshot there was very little white showing around the brown irises.

“I’ll catch up in a minute,” Kate said to Tim.

She walked over and put a hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Have you gotten any rest?”

“How the hell can I rest–” He stopped, shook his head. “Sorry, Kate, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay.” She pointed at the mug shots of older white males on the computer monitor. “Any luck?”

He shook his head again.

She squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find her.” The statement might have been more reassuring if she hadn’t choked up some as she said it.

He stared up at her, his broad face sagging with fatigue. “I was going to ask her to marry me.” He looked away from her, across the nearly empty bullpen. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to overshadow the surprise party, so I waited. Now she’ll never know.”

Kate dropped down beside his chair, the industrial-strength carpet rough under her knees. She grabbed one of his hands and held it between both of hers. “She knows, Charles, she knows. You’re one of the best things to ever happen to her. She waited a long…” Kate caught herself, deciding that was not the best place to go. “You were,
are
her Prince Charming.”

His expression darkened. “Then why can’t I save her? Or at least do something more than stare at this damn computer.” He thumped the heel of his other hand against the monitor, almost toppling it over. “I swear, Kate, if whoever took her hurts one hair on her head, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

She struggled back to her feet and put a hand on his shoulder again, patting it. “You may have lots of help.”