Pledging to Die (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 11) (56 page)

       
         
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  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

As they arrived at the sheriff’s station, the call came in. While Nick wanted to go with her, someone had to be on deputy duty. Instead, she called her partners and headed to the address, a spare deputy in tow.

When she and Deputy Izak Manz arrived, Ethan and Callen were already there. The coroner had gotten a call and alerted Chris and his team.

As she approached her partners, she checked out the large house. It was bigger than theirs, and that said a lot. They had three FBI director salaries going into the bank, and yet this place was double the size.

“What do we have?” she asked.

Chris was waiting there with Ethan and Callen. “We have something you may or may not want to keep quiet.”

“Okay, who is it?”

“This house is owned by a Doctor Raymond Hallowell.”

She stared at him. “Come again?”

Callen continued, “Chris made the visual. He confirmed it. An hour ago, the maid found the president of the university dead in his family room.”

They were being vague. “What’s going on? You three are edgy. What gives?”

“He left a note.”

Chris handed it to her. “We wanted you to see this before you did your walk through.”

“Okay,” she said, taking the sealed up paper.

‘I killed them all.

It was me.

I consumed their organs and used them in black magic. I’m evil and needed to end my life.

I’m a killer.

I’m foul.’

She looked up.

Ethan began, “I need you to see the scene. I’ve already walked through.”

She glanced over at Callen. “It feels off, doesn’t it? That’s why you two are holding back.”

Both men nodded.

“We want you to give us your impression, but you needed to know that he left a suicide note. Once I read that, it confirmed my suspicions.”

Chris handed her booties to cover her cowboy boots, and a pair of gloves.

“Deputy Manz, hold the scene and if any media show up, say nothing. Just keep them back.”

The man trotted down the driveway to secure it.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she stated.

Chris led her in. When Merry went to say something, he shook his head. They were low on evidence and clues, and if Elizabeth could pick something up, they might have a shot at closing this.

Immediately, she headed toward the body. Looking up, she checked out the rope and the way in which he was hanging. She made mental notes.

Looking around the room, she checked out more of the scene. Finally, she spoke, “Get pictures of the body, that chair, and the carpet,” she ordered. “He definitely didn't kill himself.”

Ethan was glad he wasn’t the only one who came up with that. He wasn’t sure if he was wrong or on the right track.

“It’s the rail, isn’t it?” he asked.

Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, that’s part of it. If he tied this up there and jumped, it never would have held his weight. It’s not sturdy enough. While it might hold two hundred pounds, it wouldn’t hold that plus the velocity of his fall. Once Chris cuts him open, we’ll have his hyoid.”

Chris nodded. “With a fall that great, the impact of the rope across his hyoid would have fractured it. Gravity would have increased the force to at least triple his weight.”

She agreed.

“I want his DNA processed right away. I don’t care what Merry is doing right now. Stop and get it taken care of this second.”

He motioned to her, and she got moving. “We figured as much. If he is the killer, we have a huge problem.”

Callen saw it too. “He didn't take his own life.”

“Yeah, so who did?” she asked.

That was the question.

“Someone set this up to make it look like a suicide, but the only thing is, they weren’t smart enough to know we’ve seen countless scenes like this.” She crossed the room to the desk chair. “Look at the carpet. I can see that this chair was wheeled across it to this final resting place. I’m going to bet he was standing on it, and then the chair was kicked away. Then the person who did this was nice enough to place it back by the desk.”

Ethan agreed. “Look at his throat. He clawed at it to get some air. He didn't go easily into death on this one.”

“Yeah, he didn't.”

“What else do you see?” Callen asked, trying to learn how they thought it through.

“That note is total bullshit for a couple of reasons. If he was genuinely into black magic, we would have found an altar. Satanists have one, Wiccans have one, but our dead guy didn’t. That’s suspicious to me.”

The techs rushed around.

“Did anyone find an altar?” she asked.

They all shook their heads.

“Let’s check out the refrigerator,” she stated.

They headed to the kitchen, and when they opened the door, there was no evidence of anything ever being stored in there. 

“He had a maid who likely cooked for him. She would have seen organs in here. Plus, serial killers who eat their victims, don’t take only one organ here and there. They hollow the victim out, harvesting everything. In fact, most of them take the body and keep it in the freezer.”

Callen called into the other room to their techs. “Did anyone find any other refrigeration devices?”

“None!” one called back.

Elizabeth handed Ethan the suicide note. “It’s typed and not signed. When a killer is offing themselves, they usually pen a freaking memoir, not a six lined typed note. There’s no signature. That to me means one thing.”

“They didn't want us comparing handwriting,” Callen stated.

“Yep. This is screwed up. We have a setup. We really need to know if his hyoid is broken, if he has any remnants of person in his gut, and if his DNA matches the sperm donation in the victim who had six samples.”

They knew she was right.

Elizabeth kicked the counter. “Damn it! I really hate when people screw with me.”

She pointed at Chris. “Get him down and into the morgue. I can’t go any further unless you do your job,” she stated.

No one said anything more.

Here, they wanted a miracle.

They just didn't expect to be handed the killer on a silver platter.

That never happened before.

       
         
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  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Monday Mid-Morning

Two Hours Later

Morgue

She was pissed.

With each passing minute, her blood pressure shot up, making her want to kick the shit out of someone.

One of her biggest pet peeves was when someone believed they could con the FBI and get away with it. There was nothing more insulting than thinking her team was stupid.

She was pretty damn sure that the man strung up wasn’t there of his own volition, and now her people had to prove it.

It could go either way at that point. It would come down to him being guilty as hell, or a way to screw with their case a little more.

“Lyzee?” Chris called, getting her attention. From the metal morgue table, she glanced over.

“Yeah?”

“I can give you what I have so far. It might help clear up some of the gray areas for you.”

She was appreciative that her ME knew that now wasn’t the time to be a hard ass about waiting. This had the potential to be one hell of a mess.

“His hyoid wasn’t broken. Had he fallen from that height, it would have been. Your theory is right.”

Yeah, she thought so.

This wasn’t her first day on the job, and she’d dealt with death long enough to know when there was one hell of a setup.

This stunk like one.

“I figured. So, someone helped him end his life. Now was it heaven or hell he was heading to?”

Merry rushed in with print out papers in hand. “I ran his DNA. Under his nails, we found only his. He dug at the rope around his neck to get it off.”

“Okay, that fits. If I was hanging and wanted to save myself, I’d try and get my fingers under the rope too.”

“When the maid found him, she was carrying around one of his wool suit jackets.”

“Are you going to tell me its Italian wool?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, I am, and that it’s an exact match to color and everything else. We even found a hole in it. When he was killing the victim in the shed, behind the frat house, he snagged it on a nail. We can confirm he was there.”

“Awesome. What about the sixth sample of semen we found?” she asked.

“It was his. It matched his DNA.”

She started pacing. “So, we found our killer, but what we don’t know is who offed the man doing all the mayhem, and why he was killing sorority girls.”

Funny…they had more questions now than before.

Elizabeth tried to figure it out in her head, but it was a jumbled mess. “Was it someone who found out what he was doing and took him out as a vigilante, or did he have a partner?”

They all shook their head.

Ethan had to know. “Stomach contents?”

“Nothing related to the case,” stated Chris. “I found coffee and that’s it. He did have one hell of an ulcer. Apparently, he was worried.”

She laughed. “Yeah, being afraid of getting caught would give you one of those.”

“Director?” Merry called.

“Yes?”

“We did all the trace on his car. We found DNA in it.”

“Okay, and it was from…?”

“The last victim, Harli Mercola. He must have transported her in his vehicle to that parking lot.”

She continued pacing. “I don’t get why. From all accounts, he loved the university,” she stated, knowing that Ethan had to give her something. “Handsome, I need a clue here. I’m freaking confused as hell.”

“It would fit that he was the killer. He disliked women. There are no traces of any in his life. Callen is running him now, but I’m willing to bet that the man didn't make attachments in his life. He loved one thing, and it was this university.”

“Then why risk it?” she asked. “I don’t get that part. He clearly didn't want us here. In fact, it was the board of trustees who asked for help.”

Ethan pointed out one thing. “He was trying to contain it from the start. He tried to get Gabe to send in someone who would keep it low key.”

That was a good point.

“Okay, I get that. If I was killing people, I’d be pissed that the board sent in investigators. I’d try and manipulate it anyway I could too.”

Callen spoke up, “It was unraveling around him. It had to make him really nervous that we were here, and that the media was following us around.”

“Any media scrutiny would have made him nervous. That’s how I know we don’t have a psychopath, but instead, a sociopath.”

Callen looked up at him. “I didn't know there was a difference.”

“There is. Look for any issues in his childhood, Cal. He’s likely going to have been a handful.”

Elizabeth hopped back up on the table. “School us, Mr. Profiler.”

“The main difference is that while the psychopath likes the attention, the sociopath doesn’t. He may keep to himself.”

“His home seemed icy. He only had one housekeeper, and she wasn’t permitted to live on site,” Elizabeth added. “That seems like someone who likes to live on the fringe of society to me.”

“He won’t have many friends. He’s going to be suspicious and paranoid. He’ll trust very few people.”

“Yet someone managed to get into his fortress, get him to stand on a chair, and die. That had to mean someone was close to him.”

Ethan agreed. “Likely. Look for anyone he called friend. They’ll be the ones who he’d let into his life. He spent a great deal of time with professors. You might want to look in that direction. He’d find them appealing, since they’re just as smart as he is, and they’re loyal to the school.”

Callen was making notes. “What else is different about them?”

“A psychopath will work up elaborate plans and go with them, while a sociopath will be more impulsive.”

“Like mixing up the methods of killing?” she asked.

“Exactly. He put a victim in his personal car, where he never let them into his private space. He was desperate and impulsive. That would have been what got him caught.”

“I don’t get why he killed while professing his adoration for the university.”