Devoted in Death

17

She’d lost track of time again. The pain, beyond imagining, woke her. But the ferocity of it radiating everywhere let her know she was still alive.

Jayla Campbell, she thought, fighting through the haze of pain. I’m Jayla Campbell, and I’m alive.

She turned her head, very slowly, as even that had agony raging. They hadn’t hurt him again – Mulligan, Reed Mulligan. When they’d found him unconscious on the floor, they’d hauled him back onto the makeshift table. They’d treated his broken wrist with some ice, even given him some sort of meds.

He had to be strong enough, she’d heard them say, to rape her again.

They’d discussed it, giggling over some of the details. They’d ease back on hurting him – for now, and maybe up the dose of Erotica so he’d last longer.

They’d given her something that made her nauseated and weak, but she’d heard them discussing her as if she were an animal.

She stank, in Ella-Loo’s opinion, and needed to be cleaned up if they were going to keep her for another day or two.

She tried to fight when Darryl hauled her up. The pain rose up in a hot flood, took her just under the surface, but she tried to fight. Tried not to weep when she heard them laughing at her.

They weren’t human. The drugs, dehydration, shock had her seeing them as monsters, demons with red eyes and flicking tongues. The gag choked her screams as they dropped her into a tub of water so hot it scalded.

Someone pushed her head under; someone pulled it up again by the hair. Again and again while she swallowed water, gagged, and finally prayed for it just to end.

She woke on the table again, naked, shivering with cold and drowning in the pain.

And listened to the quiet.

“I think they’re asleep.”

This time when she turned her head, Mulligan’s eyes were open and on her.

“They tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t come around enough, so they went out for a while. I don’t know how long. They gave me something, I kept passing out. And then I heard them laughing and having sex. Then it got quiet. I think they’re asleep.”

She tried to lick her dry lips, but it was like sand against sand. “You don’t know how long?”

“I don’t know. They gave me something. I just don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the knife. I tried again, to get loose and get it, but I couldn’t.”

She’d nearly forgotten. That moment of hope felt like weeks had passed. “Your hand.”

“It doesn’t hurt as much. If I can get loose again, I might be able to get something.”

“They’re not going to hurt you, or not as much. They want you strong enough to rape me again.”

He shut his eyes. “God. Oh God. I don’t want to —”

“It doesn’t matter. I told you it doesn’t matter. But more, I heard them. They cleaned me up because they want to keep me alive for a couple days more, so you can rape me. They get off on it. I want to stay alive, so you have to do whatever they tell you to do to me. But I’m going to scream and try to struggle. I’m going to make them think it matters. You’ll know it doesn’t. They’ll keep us alive as long as they get off.”

A light came into his eyes, fierce and dark against the pallor and bruising. “I want to kill them.”

“Maybe you will.” There was a glimmer of hope in that ugly wish. “Make them think you’re weak and scared.”

“Jesus, I am weak and scared.”

“Not as much as they think. And next time you’ll get the knife.”

“Next time,” he said. “Do you have somebody? I mean, are you with somebody?”

“Not now.” She thought of Mattio. He seemed like another lifetime. She thought of Luke, and that was a comfort. Just a little comfort.

“But there’s this guy I should’ve paid more attention to. I wish I had. I want to have a chance to pay attention. He lives across the hall from me. Do you have somebody?”

“Not now,” he said and tried to smile. “But there’s this girl. I’m crazy for her, but I haven’t had the guts to make the move. I want a chance to try.”

Tears burned at her eyes. Hope hurt. “We’re going to go on a double date, right? Deal?”

“Yeah. Deal. They’re looking for us. Our friends, our family. The cops. They have to be.”

“Yeah, they’re looking for us. We’re going to do whatever it takes to stay alive until they find us. Double date,” she said, and closed her eyes.

When her time was up, Eve went back into the bull pen.

“I’m open.”

“Two minutes, Lieutenant.” Jenkinson pushed away from his desk, went to her. Today’s neckwear sported long-eared white rabbits with orange carrots on a purple background.

“Where are you getting those?” she demanded.

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. We caught one this morning.” He ran it through briefly. A bludgeoning, the lead from a CI they only half trusted and a seedy pool hall in Chinatown.

“Snitch says the guy we want frequents that establishment, but we go in asking about him, they’re going to clam it or cover him. And we get a feeling the snitch is maybe playing both ends on this. We figure we’ll go in, soft clothes, play some pool, see what’s what.”

“Do it, but don’t wear that tie. Do you know where to find the CI?”

“Oh yeah, he’s easy to find.”

“Send a couple uniforms out, have him picked up on anything they can make stick for a few hours. Keep him inside while you play pool.”

“Nice. On it. Santiago and Carmichael still fishing in Oklahoma?”

“They’ve caught a few. They should be on their way back in a few hours.”

“We could use them. Got two new and open right now.”

She glanced at the main board, shoved her hand through her hair. So many. There were always so many.

“I can pull Baxter back.”

“Ah hell, Dallas, that man’s like an expectant father with his boy in exam. He’s better off where he is. We got it here. I figure the kid’s good for it. You?”

“We’ll know soon enough. Go play some pool. Peabody, I’m going to work the maps again. Jenkinson and Reineke are working a bludgeoning. Take a look at what else is new and open, see what you can put together, then pass it off to Baxter when he and Banner get back.”

“You want me to pull off our investigation?”

“Juggle, Peabody. And throw these new balls in the air. The APB on the van’s out, we’ve got detectives looking into backgrounds and timelines out west, Baxter and our guest cop wearing out shoe leather here. We’ve got names, faces. I’m going to try to narrow the location. Unless you start going door-to-door in that sector, and it damn well may come to it, there’s nothing we can do for Campbell and Mulligan until the next crack widens.”

She pointed to the banner over the break-room door.

NO MATTER YOUR RACE, CREED, SEXUAL ORIENTATION OR POLITICAL AFFILIATION, WE PROTECT AND SERVE. BECAUSE YOU COULD GET DEAD.

“That goes for everybody, all the time. Do what you can, pass to Baxter, and maybe he puts a bad guy away before the day’s over.”

She went back to her office, scrubbed her hands over her face. Then brought the map on screen.

And began to calculate.

A half hour later, she’d refined the area of interest, considered focusing the APB there. But if she was wrong, off by even a block, it could cost lives.

Instead she boosted the search to parking garages. Maybe they kept the van off the street, at least when they weren’t hunting. Having cops cruise through garages, parking lots, undergrounds might net them the vehicle.

And that was one step closer to Parsens and James.

She flipped to the ’link when it signaled incoming from Santiago.

“Give me something good.”

“How about a bouncing baby girl?”

“She dumped the kid on her mother.”

“Oh yeah. Mother hadn’t seen or heard from her in nearly a year, and she shows up, baby in tow, last June. Spun a story about falling for some guy, thinking they were going to get married, then he took off when she got knocked up, left her flat and with two black eyes. Lots of drama.”

“Yeah, she’s the smart one,” Eve mused.

“Claimed she realized how she needed family, how little Darra deserved a good start. Maybe she’d go back to school, get a good job, if they’d let them stay – that’s the mother and stepfather.”

“She knows what tune to play.”

“Played it like a virtuoso. Less than two weeks in, she’s gone, so are valuables and cash, and the baby’s still here. Not a word since, and they’re not covering, Dallas. They’re both scared we’re going to take the baby from them. They talked to a lawyer just last week, trying to see if they could legally adopt so the daughter can’t come back and take the kid. They’re nice people, doing the best they know how.

“And FYI? Ella-Loo was driving the Bobcat.”

“Did she have any friends there, anybody she might’ve told the truth to?”

“Carmichael’s getting that data. The mother doesn’t think there’s anyone Ella-Loo hadn’t pissed off before she left the first time around, but we’ll make some contacts before we head out to the next stop.”

“Who’s driving?”

His face went grim. “Just let me warn you. Don’t do bets with Carmichael. You might as well draw to an inside straight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just to play it safe, talk to the locals, see about getting access to their ’links in case the daughter’s contacted them.”

“They already offered, but we’ll breeze by the local badges, see what we can suss out.”

“Good work. Keep it moving. Tag me from the next stop.”

She’d barely clicked off when she got an incoming from Baxter.

“We got two hits, boss, bang-bang. Nothing, nothing, nothing, then two. Pawnshop and pizza joint, both on Hudson. Pawnshop between West Houston and King, pizzeria between Charlton and Vandam.”

Her attention went straight to the map. “Fucking A.”

“After some friendly persuasion, the pawnshop ID’d James. He was in twice last week. Pizza place nailed both of them. Takeout, two visits. We’re going to try this Chinese place, and there’s a souvenir shop one block over.”

“Do that. I’m sending some uniforms to canvass, try some of the residences, the other businesses. If they spent time walking around that area, we can narrow the field. This is good, Baxter. What did they pawn?”

“A wrist unit, sports model, and a second, dress type. Decent ones, both men’s styles. A tablet – wiped clean – a keyboard, musical type, an entertainment screen, an antique vase, a silver Saint Christopher’s medal. Nothing shows up on stolen.”

“Bring the tablet in. EDD will see how wiped is wiped. Send me pictures and descriptions of all. I’ll check them against the vics. Did James go into the pawnshop and the pizza joint the same days?”

“First time, yeah, but about six hours apart, from what we’re getting. Second time, different days.”

“Okay. Keep me in.”

“You bet. Ah, hey, I haven’t heard anything from Trueheart. Have you —”

“It’s too soon. Focus.”

She cut him off, went back to the map.

She recalculated, using the two hits. You go for takeaway, she thought, you go close to home. If you were driving, it didn’t matter so much, but…

Too much time between visits on the first hits. Six hours? No, he drove to the pawnshop, possibly, but then they went back to the same area to pick up food. And back again, same area twice more.

Because it was easy and quick.

She cut six blocks north and three blocks east off her map, let that stew while she pulled up the data Baxter sent and ran it with anything reported missing from the victims.

Tablet, she noted, wrist units – but nothing matching the pawned wrist units.

“You hit somebody in New York for this stuff.”

She shoved up, paced. None of it reported stolen – and that led her to whoever they stole it from was dead.

But not discovered. Not discovered because when the cops had a DB they checked out the DB’s place of residence.

And that’s where James and Parsens were living. That’s what played out.

She turned back to the map. “Getting closer, you fuckers. Getting closer every minute.”

She went to the door, shouted, “Peabody,” then went back to the map as if she could pinpoint the location by will alone.

“Sir!”

“We’re narrowing the area. Baxter and Banner have a couple hits. I’m going to have some black-and-whites cruise the target area for the van. The baby is with Parsens’s mother.”

“Thank God. I had this image of her just, I don’t know, tossing it out of the truck window or something.”

“She had it for a reason,” Eve said, “and played the mother with the rehabilitating-myself-for-the-sake-of-my-tiny-baby routine, gave it a few days, stole what she could use or sell, walked out, leaving said tiny baby. That well may be dry now, but Carmichael and Santiago will pump it a little more before heading to the bar, then the prison.

“I’m heading out shortly.”

“I’ve got some angles for Baxter on the opens.”

“Work them,” Eve said. “Take one, you’re primary.”

“But —”

Eve cut off the protest with a look. “We’re short here, Peabody. I need you to take one, work it. Send me updates and notes, and I’ll work with you. If something else pops loose on this, I’ll pull you in, but right now it’s steps and stages, calculations and incoming data. I’ll be tagging the agent in charge soon.”

“You gotta?”

“I gotta. If I’m not here when Banner gets back, you haul him to my place. We can work there tonight if we don’t have this locked.”

“Okay.” Peabody let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll take one of the opens, pass the other to Baxter when he comes in. How do I know which one?”

“You can’t know, you just pick and do what you do. It’s not your first round as primary.”

“Yeah, but you’re always right there.”

“I’m still there, keep me in the loop, but do what you do. You’ve got a shield for a reason.”

Her ’link signaled. Eve glanced at it. “That’s Mira. I’m going to take this. Go, keep the balls in the air.”

“But I can tag you.”

“When you need to. Beat it.” She grabbed the ’link. “Dallas.”

“I’m just coming in to Central. I wanted you to know that we’ve concluded both the victims were tortured and murdered, and it’s our opinion they are two more victims of the spree killers.”

“Ella-Loo Parsens and Darryl Roy James.”

“You have them.”

“Not yet, but we have names, faces – and we have more data. I can come to you.”

“I’ll come to you. Five minutes.”

She was prompt. In five minutes Eve heard the skinny-heeled boots clicking toward her office. When Mira stepped in, Eve held out a mug of the flowery tea Mira preferred.

“Oh, thank you! I can really use this.”

“Don’t sit in that chair. You know what it’s like.”

“Considering I’ve spent most of today on my feet, I’ll take yours. Thanks.” She sat, took a long, slow sip. “While not altogether careless, the conclusions reached previously on both victims are incorrect. Injuries were misinterpreted. Given the more limited experience and equipment in these cases, it’s not unreasonable to understand how those conclusions were arrived at.”

“In both cases, there were people – Banner and the second vic’s wife – pushing for further investigation. Those people were dismissed by the local authorities and the federal authorities.”

“Agreed, however, assessed from one angle, the victims appeared to have had accidental deaths. Regardless, they were murdered. DeWinter is writing the reports, on both, in minute detail.”

“I just bet.”

“She’s also requested the exhumation of Noah Paston’s remains, and their transfer to her.”

“I’m going to owe her that drink.”

Mira smiled. “And you’re busy and distracted by what’s happening now, so this doesn’t matter.”

Eve shook her head. “It does matter. Victims always matter, and I’m grateful you took the time to throw your weight on the pile. I’ll inform Agent Zweck of your conclusions, and tell him DeWinter’s report is forthcoming.”

She turned to her board, pointed at Parsens and James. “These people will pay for the two victims you gave your time and skill to today. And for Noah Paston. They’ll pay for all of them.

“They have a kid.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Stunned, Mira lowered her tea. “The killers have a child?”

“A baby. She had it while he was doing time for getting caught trying to steal her a ring. True love.”

“This changes things.” Shifting, Mira studied the board. “Having a child, taking a child on a killing spree across country —”

“No, she dumped it on her mother before they started. From the timing, she got pregnant on a conjugal while he was inside, had the kid before he got out. She went home with it, lied about how she got knocked up, played the I’m-turning-over-a-new-leaf card, then stole what she wanted, left the kid behind. The mother hasn’t heard from her since. That was back in June. James got out about six weeks later.”

“Is he aware she had his child?”

“She listed him as father on the birth certificate, which is how we knew about it. She named the girl Darra, and I figure Darryl, Darra.”

“Yes, I see.” Slowly, processing, Mira nodded. “She had the child – the physical proof of their love – but didn’t want it with them, didn’t feel what a mother would feel and didn’t want the child close. This is a kind of honeymoon for them.”

“Yeah, that occurred to me. I know her now. Having the kid served a purpose. It binds him to her even more, ties them together tight. It was – is – a vehicle, that’s all. If she felt it would be useful, she’d go back for it, but she doesn’t give the kid a single thought.”

Saying nothing, Mira nodded, sipped more tea.

Eve understood the silence perfectly.

“Stella had me because I served a purpose.” She said it flatly – it meant nothing now. “She had to tolerate having me around because I wasn’t old enough to serve the purpose she and Troy had in mind for me. She had something with Troy, then with McQueen, that this one has with James. Only Troy and McQueen were the dominants. I think Parsens runs the show here. She might not make it obvious, she might let James think he’s the big, strong man, but she’s calling the shots.”

“There are variables that may play in to the dominant/submissive dynamic between them.”

Eve shook her head. “I know her. She had the kid, dumped the kid. I’m betting she visited James in prison like clockwork. She waited for him, three and a half years. That’s not a small thing.”

“They see it as love. For them it is love. Once in a lifetime.”

“Yeah, and she’ll do whatever she thinks will keep him with her. He’s a romantic, so when we close in, he might sacrifice himself for her. He calls her his Juliet. He’s into Shakespeare.”

“And doesn’t understand that story was a tragedy, not a romance. He might, yes, die trying to protect her, but with this new information I think it’s unlikely they’d choose suicide. Or that she would. It’s not glory they’re after, or even the thrill of death. It’s love, a sexual bond heightened through sadism. To love, they need to live.”

“Factoring in what we know, and what we’re learning, do you think Campbell’s still alive?”

Now Mira’s gaze shifted to Campbell’s board image. “I think the probability of that is higher now than I would have estimated it this morning. How long that remains true… In any of their more urban murders, the bodies have been carelessly dumped, no attempt to conceal. I don’t see why they’d change that pattern now, here in New York, so until her body is found, she’s alive.”

“I figure another twenty-four, thirty-six tops. They’ll get bored, want somebody fresh.”

“I won’t disagree.”

Eve paced to her skinny window and back. “If I release their names and faces to the media, odds are somebody will recognize them. But if they see their faces on screen, they’ll kill and run. It’s not the glory,” Eve repeated.

“Again, I won’t disagree. It’s a difficult call to make.”

And one she’d been wrestling with.

“I’m not releasing, unless ordered. I’ve held back from bringing in the feds because they may take that path. Would you throw your weight on my pile, if necessary? It’s a tough call for you, too.”

“I believe they’d cut their losses, try to get out of New York, so it’s not such a tough call.”

“We’re narrowing the area, if that helps. Banner and Baxter got two hits already less than a block apart. It’s going to zero down.”

“I’ll put it in writing.” Mira finished her tea, rose. “And I know a few people in the FBI. I’ll speak to one or two with influence.”

“If that doesn’t work, nothing will. It should hold them off from releasing for twenty-four anyway. And that’s about all the time Campbell’s got. They’d likely finish Mulligan with her, or shortly after. So if I can get another twenty-four to thirty-six, it’ll have to be enough.”

“I’ll push for the thirty-six.”

“Thanks. You look tired.”

“Oh, I am. I’ve got a few things to deal with here, then I’m going home and have Dennis rub my feet.”

“Really?”

“He does the most amazing reflexology. You look tired yourself.”

“I don’t know if Roarke does reflexology.”

“I imagine he has a way. In any case, my advice is to take an hour and relax, clear your head after you’re home. You’ll work half the night if I’m any judge, so take an hour first. You’ll be fresher for it.”

“Maybe I will.”

Mira turned toward the door, paused. “Is the child – Darra – in good hands?”

“Santiago says the mother and stepfather seem to be good people, and want to legally adopt the kid. She’s in a better place than she would be with her mother.”

“Then when you think of the child, and you will, think of that. However selfish and cold the act, the mother did the daughter a great favor. She’ll be loved and tended.”

And better off than many, Eve thought when she was alone. With luck it would make a difference.

She put it aside, sat, contacted her commander to get the federal ball rolling.