Hunting (11 page)

In spite of what people
like Malachi thought. If Georgia and Ana and even Ed and Hell
thought she was a good choice for the little girl, why should
Malachi’s doubt matter?

“
Why do you not think I can
do it?” She glared at him, almost needing him to tell her she
couldn’t do it. Then she could argue all the reasons
why…

“
Excuse me?” He looked up
from the file in his hand.

“
I said, why do you think I
can’t do it? No one else has expressed any interest in Ruthie. Or
if they have, the social workers said they weren’t good matches. Ed
has helped pull some strings to get her case moving quickly, her
own mother signed termination papers. The social workers assigned
to both Ruthie and I think we’d be an excellent fit. Hell, Georgia,
Ana, even Al thinks this is a good idea. So why not
you?”

“
Al knows? She didn’t say
anything.”

“
Is that what this is
about? You not knowing? Well, why should you? It’s really none of
your business.”

“
No. It isn’t, but I do
wish the both of you luck. I know it’s not an easy decision to
make.” He covered her hand with his. Jules forced herself not to
jerk back. “Julia, if you need anything, your or Ruthie…just ask.
I’ll help however I can.”

His tone was sincere, the
look on his face said he meant it, and she felt some of her rancor
toward him dissipating. As the rancor slid out, the vulnerability
and nerves slipped back in. Was she making the right decision? For
Ruthie? For herself?

God, she hoped
so.

“
So where are you in the
process?”

“
One or two more
visitations, then we’ll make arrangements to actually move her to
St. Louis. Then she’ll be considered my foster child until the
adoption is final.”

“
So you’re pretty far
along, then?”

“
Yes. Like I said, I’ve
been planning this and hoping for this for a while now. But it
hasn’t been something I’ve let get out. I don’t want to be part of
the office gossip again. I had enough of that after
Thanksgiving.”

He understood that. He was
still feeling the stares, himself. He’d yet to find even a single
insight as to who had taken them. The UNSUB was always one step
ahead of him. But even though it had been just a bit over a month
since Thanksgiving, he was never going to stop until he had the man
in custody.

He owed it to the woman
beside him.

Mal hated testifying in
these cases, but he understood the necessity of the task. Travis
Byrum was a small man who’d felt both inadequate and grandiose in
his ideas. He’d felt that he was better morally than his victims.
But he’d felt no qualms about raping and assaulting those victims,
or the teenage girl who’d been forced to live with the Byrums by
her own family.

It was this man’s
biological daughter that Julia would be adopting. Did she fully
understand what she would be taking on? Ruthie would eventually
question her origins, and would learn of the crimes her biological
father had committed. And those that her mother had also committed.
Theresa Byrum had been charged with unlawful confinement by keeping
Hannah in the Byrum home against her will. Theresa had also been
charged with physical abuse against both Hannah and Ruthie.
Apparently Theresa had saved her resentment and aggression for the
younger girls in the house, and left the boys alone for the most
part. He’d seen it before—a parent abusing only one or two of their
children and not abusing the others. But all children in such a
home suffered; and that environment was what Ruthie had known. How
had it shaped her?

He found himself very
curious about the little girl Julia was taking on. What kind of
child was she? Did she like cartoons? Storybooks? Princesses or
trucks? Was she a fearful child, or more resilient? He wasn’t
entirely certain of what she looked like. He’d only seen her for a
few minutes months ago. But Julia had seen her more. Had kept the
child with her during the interviews he’d done with Hannah.
Interviews he was now about to describe to a court of Travis
Byrum’s peers.

Did Travis Byrum know what
was going on with his daughter? Or did he even care?

Mal looked at Byrum as he
began describing what had happened the day Hannah arrived in his
office. And Mal knew—Byrum wouldn’t care what happened to Ruthie.
Because Ruthie had been born a female.

* * *

Jules testimony went
relatively well. She’d been questioned about her findings on each
autopsy, then the defense tried to pick apart her findings. But her
work was solid, and she’d ensured all of her notes were
self-explanatory. The evidence was sound, and she knew
it.

What had been hard was
looking into Travis Byrum’s eyes as she spoke, and trying not to
notice how they were the same as his daughter’s. Ruthie had her
father’s blue eyes, a trick of genetics that on the little girl
were sweet and beautiful. On the father those eyes were completely
empty.

Unlike Malachi’s. Jules
fought the urge to look over at him as she gave her testimony. He
was finished with his testimony, and Jules knew he’d not be
recalled, so he was allowed to sit through the rest of the trial.
She found his presence oddly comforting.

Jules hated testifying,
sitting in a courtroom, face-to-face with the world’s
monsters.

And this particular monster
was a definite bad one.

It was hard to forget as he
stared at her with hatred on his face, that she resembled the
victims, and that he had tried to use a stun-gun on her while at
the scene of his last crime. She’d been leaning over the victim—a
young woman with brown hair and eyes very similar to Jules’
own—when Byrum had ran toward her. Grabbed for her. What had he
been thinking he’d accomplish that day? Had he really just lost all
concept of reality?

Georgia had speculated
later that he’d seen Jules sitting at the diner table with her and
Hell and…Malachi. She’d sat beside Malachi that day, and he’d eaten
off her plate. Had that been enough for Byrum? Had that been what
had drawn his attention to Jules? She shivered.

Was she always destined to
draw the attention of madmen?

She looked past Byrum and
into the seated crowd. The judge hadn’t ordered a private trial for
Byrum, though Jules knew his lawyer had requested one. No, the
entire state of South Dakota had keen interest in this trial. It
was being filmed, and posted live online. Where it would remain
forever. Where the Byrum children could eventually see.

Her eyes met Malachi’s and
she drew in a deep breath. Pulled her focus and professionalism
around herself like a cloak.

She was safe now, and
nothing was going to interfere in this next phase of her life.
Nothing.

* * *

After her part in the trial
was finished several hours later, Malachi met Jules in the hallway
outside the largest courtroom. “You did great up there.”

Her testimony had lasted
significantly longer than his and he’d stayed for all of it. Every
piece of evidence she’d found on each of the multiple victims had
to be verbally confirmed by her and shown to each jury member. It
had been a long and tedious process, and he could easily see it had
exhausted her.

“
I hate testifying. And
looking at him, knowing I’m about to go visit his
daughter…brrr.”

“
I’ll bet.” She hadn’t even
floundered when she’d explained to the jury how Byrum had attempted
to attack her when she’d been processing the scene of his final
victim. He hadn’t even known that had happened—he’d been in
interviews with associates of the Byrums by that point. But he,
along with the rest of the courtroom, had watched the news
channel’s video of the scene that day. “Byrum’s going away for
good. You could see it on the faces of many of the jurors while you
were speaking. They paid close attention when you described what
he’d done to his victims.”

“
He’ll never hurt anyone
again. Not much comfort to the families, though.”

“
No. But nothing every
really could be, could it?”

He never set out to be a
killer. That had definitely not been his ambition. But he had been
angry for some slight or another, and it had been a simple matter
really. He’d walked around Central Park until he’d found someone
who resembled the person he was angry with, grabbed a limb from a
nearby tree and beat the woman until she was dead. It had been
dirty, bloody, and extremely reckless—three things he hadn’t minded
at the time—but that utter feeling of control had been the best
rush he had ever experienced.

The thirty-eight people
he’d killed since have only deepened that rush. He did his best
never to repeat a method of death, needing to ensure he had the
challenge he needed. And wasn’t that a part of the game he played
with Malachi? Which method of death would bring Malachi closer to
his own inevitable end?

How would he finally kill
Malachi, now that his original plan for the other man had been
destroyed? It would need finesse, and need to make the greatest
impact on the other man. It demanded thought.

He always had an alert for
Malachi arranged on his computer, and it pinged while he was
heating his dinner.

He checked it, curious as
always what the other man was doing.

He watched the taped
testimony for a while, finding nothing extraordinary in anything
Malachi had done.

It was just another
run-of-the-mill serial killer who’d been caught within a few weeks
of his first kill.

Unlike him.

He’d made it to the five
year anniversary of his first kill without being
defeated.

Thanksgiving.

He’d had a lot to be
thankful for this past year.

Until those idiots had
ruined his game with Malachi.

He watched the recorded
testimony idly. His attention sharpened when the camera panned the
courtroom.

Interesting.

Dr. Julia Bellows was also
in the courtroom.

Several hours later he was
enmeshed in her recounting of her work. She was very detailed, and
even clinical in a way that he admired.

As she continued speaking,
ideas began to take shape. Ideas for his next game.

Ideas centered around
her.

His solicitous support was
driving her crazy. He’d been nice and supportive on the entire
drive to the small hotel north of the city. The snowstorm they’d
driven for close to ninety minutes in had her tense, but he didn’t
seem to care. Damn him. Even the weather wouldn’t dare mess with
Mr. Perfect. He’d maneuvered the rental car over the icy roads with
complete perfection and ease. Jules would have been a wreck if
she’d had to drive on the ice.

His good mood was driving
her bonkers. They’d stopped at six hotels in the past two hours,
fighting the weather all the way. None had room for the two of
them. Which made her nerves all that much worse. Everything was
combining to make her a freaking basket case.

Didn’t the big lughead
understand that she needed him to argue with her? To tell her
adopting this kid was a bad idea, that she was crazy, and all she’d
manage to do was screw up both their lives? Where was the Malachi
she was used to? The one who argued with her, and snipped at her,
and just flat out picked at her until she was ready to explode at
him? Didn’t he understand that she needed to vent right now, and he
was right there, and perfectly vent-at-able?

She thought she heard him
laugh as she approached the check-in counter, and that’s when she
knew he understood how she was feeling. Knew he was doing it
deliberately. Knew he knew she wanted him to say something to her.
Just knew it.

“
I’m sorry, ma’am, but we
only have one room available, with the storm and all. It does have
a double bed.”

Julia sighed before telling
the girl they’d take it. Figured. That was just the way her luck
worked. She was so not getting back into that car with him to hunt
for another hotel. Why hadn’t she thought to have Ed’s assistant
make the hotel reservations, as well as the plane? And why hadn’t
Malachi made his own reservation ahead of time? “But the big ape is
paying.”

***

Poor little shrew. And he
knew she hated winter weather. He knew she was tense, knew the snow
and ice had bothered her. And when Jules was afraid, she turned
snappish. At least when he was nearby. How many times had he heard
her complain about the cold just in the parking lot of the
courthouse alone? Julia did not handle cold well, despite working
in the colder environment of the morgue every day. And she was
tense from testifying and now that her testimony was complete, the
thoughts of what would happen tomorrow with Ruthie were probably
running through her head. Making her nervous. Scaring
her.

He felt a bit more
compassion fill him. Julia Bellows handled everything alone, even
when she didn’t have to. He dropped a hand to her shoulder and
squeezed before pulling her back so that he could pay the bill. He
kept his hand on her shoulder, right where it was. She didn’t brush
him off as quickly as he expected her to. Not this time.