Hunting (20 page)

The child could potentially
pose a problem for him. But he had plenty of time to perfect his
strategy where Dr. Julia Bellows was concerned.

The first thing would be to
set up monitoring of her house. He waited until she and the girl
drove away, then exited his vehicle. He knew what he looked like, a
businessman wearing nice clothing, well-groomed, and probably
successful. White, and someone easily at home in this middle-class
to upper-middle-class neighborhood. With the fast approaching
twilight, he knew he’d be completely unremarkable to any possible
witnesses. A white man in a business suit driving a dark sedan. No
one, really.

He popped the trunk and
pulled out a tiny box of supplies. Inside were three cameras, the
kind often used in those ridiculous nanny cams that were so popular
during the late 90s early 2000s. He’d installed many such items in
his chess pieces’ homes over the years. It would take little work
to install them in Dr. Bellows’ home. Her bedroom, certainly.
Possibly her bathroom, pointed directly at her tub.

He was self-actualized
enough to understand that he got several types of enjoyment off of
voyeuristic pursuits. The knowledge that he had the ability to
watch every move a man or woman made while in the privacy of their
own home, that he watched the intimate details they kept hidden
from the world.

What did Dr. Julia Bellows
want to keep hidden?

Fifteen minutes later he
was back in his car, driving to his own home in Chesterfield. As he
pulled in to the drive he was once again struck with the pride he
felt every time he gazed upon his home. He’d done very well for
himself. Much better than his mother and step-father had predicted.
His home was a three-story, brick exterior modern home. It would be
the perfect starter home for an up-and-coming state representative,
as soon as he got that appointment.

By election time next year
it would be cemented…

To do that, he needed to
finish creating his image. Professional accolades were on their way
to him—he’d ensured that through the flawless execution of his
work. He’d written sixteen papers to date on the effectiveness of
his treatments and research. The works had been extremely well
received. It was just a matter of time until recognition was given.
He also needed to project the image of devoted family man. Despite
the fact that he did not personally care for children, he needed to
father at least one in order to appear as trustworthy to the
family-oriented portion of his future constituents. No, he really
did not feel drawn to small children, but they were a
necessity.

And then there was his need
for a wife. A helpmeet, the archaic term was. Someone who could
propel him to the front of the fold, while helping him in any
manner he deemed necessary. Someone who could look the part, speak
the part, and then know when to listen to her dominant master and
step out of the limelight and let him shine.

Until today he’d thought
that woman would be Paige. But now he wasn’t so certain.

Perhaps,
Julia
would
be a better fit for the position.

Perhaps, for once,
Malachi
had made the better decision.

In the meantime, he had
some work to do for the new game. A double move on his part, he
thought, would be best…

Christina Aquilara played
on the speakers of the morgue two days after Jules returned to
work. Jules needed the music to block out the sounds of autopsy.
She’d always found the sounds to be the most intimidating part of
her job.

Still, she got over her
squeamishness quickly and set about autopsying the first victim
that CCU Team Three had found. The victim was approximately
thirty-five to forty years old, Caucasian, and thinner than she
needed to be at 102 pounds. Her hair was dark brown and shoulder
length. Her nails were painted red and neat. The woman’s general
appearance spoke to decent health, at this point there were no
indicators of medical factors accounting for death.

The bruising on the woman’s
wrists and ankles, as well as on her right zigomatic bone—her
cheek—told a story of a more man-induced death. But Jules would
hold off determining cause of death until all the factors were
in.

Mia stood across the table
from her, making notes as Jules spoke. Mia had transferred to PAVAD
with Jules at Jules’ request—and Jules was comfortable with Mia’s
style of note-taking. Still, she was as thorough as possible as she
documented each bruise and injury the victim—still unidentified—had
suffered.

“
Where was she found
again?” Jules’ asked the third person attending the
autopsy.

Paige didn’t seem fazed by
the fact that she was standing less than a foot from a woman about
to be dissected on a metal table. “Over on Meredith Drive. A very
small street. Body dump; none of the neighbors recognized her. A
paperboy nearly ran over her.”

“
Why did the CCU pull it?”
It was unusual for a local body to end up on Jules’ table. She was
responsible for two things at PAVAD—monitoring the general health
of each team, through file review, and overseeing and performing
autopsies of victims directly related to the cases PAVAD was
working. She’d only done two—maybe three—autopsies for local
agencies.

The main field office for
St. Louis handled non-PAVAD cases, and had their own medical
examiner.

Paige shrugged. “I’m not
really sure. The call came in about ten minutes before I was
leaving for lunch, and ole Ed tagged me and Al to rendezvous.
Knight requested our involvement, I guess.”

Allan Knight was a
SAC—Special Agent in Charge—with the local field office. “Isn’t he
the one who…”

“
Likes to send every
run-of-the-mill case he can over to us?” Paige laughed. “Yes,
that’s him. Some say he’s irritated that he wasn’t picked for
PAVAD, so that’s part of his poking at Ed. And Mal, I guess, though
they’re friends; he’s some kind of psychologist or psychiatrist,
too. Still, we’re better than his people, so this girl got
lucky.”

As Jules started up the saw
to make the Y-incision,
lucky
wasn’t the word she was
thinking of.

Little else was said as
Jules made the rest of the incisions necessary to begin the
four-hour process of dissecting someone. She pulled out the larynx
and esophagus, dictating to Mia as she did so. “It’s larger than
expected for a woman this size.”

“
Schatzki ring?”

“No. I don’t believe so.
There seems to be an obstruction of some sort…” Jules took the
enterotomes—special scissors used for cutting through tubes and
vessels—and made a small incision above and below the obstruction.
“It’s more of an object than a muscle.”

“I’ll get
the camera.” Paige had attended enough autopsies with Jules to know
what would happen next. She took out Jules’ camera from where it
rested on the tray, and began to make additional images. Jules
always videotaped autopsies from three angles—the cameras were
poised over the exam table—but printed images were used to document
actual medical or physical anomalies. At least, in
her
lab they were.

Jules carefully reached
into the tissue with forceps and grasped the top of the
obstruction. As Paige moved around her to better document the
procedure, Jules pulled the obstruction out.

An object no larger than
Jules’ thumb was clasped between the teeth of the forceps. It took
her a moment to identify it exactly.

A wooden chess piece
stared up at her.

A white pawn.

This woman just became
out-of-the-run-of-the-mill-unlucky, Jules thought as Paige
continued to snap photographs and Mia described for the recording
just what it was they’d found.

“
What does it mean, you
think?” Paige asked, though Jules could see the same worry on the
younger woman’s face that she herself was feeling.

A killer who used chess
pieces—they both knew who that most likely was.

But who was this woman? Was
she just a pawn like the piece signified? And why had she just
happened to end up on
Jules’
table? Had it just been
coincidence?

“
Paige, I want you to call
Dr. Brockman. He and Hellbrook will need to see this.”

***

Malachi and Hell had just
finished up in the cafeteria, having a late lunch, when the M.E.
paged them. Mal had a difficult time suppressing the jolt that just
seeing Dr. Julia Bellows across the screen of his phone gave
him.

Hellbrook’s phone also
beeped. Hell looked at the screen. “We’re wanted in the
autopsy.”

“
Both of us. Interesting.”
That usually didn’t happen. They often worked together, with one
team providing back up support for the other, but rarely did they
start on cases together. Anticipation had him tensing. What was
going on? And what did Julia want?

They met Sebastian Lorcan,
the leader of CCU Team Three, walking down the twisted and narrow
hallway that led to the morgue’s annex. The morgue had been added
six months after the initial start of the PAVAD directorate, and
was a single story building. Julia ruled supreme down there, and
everyone knew that.

She had a staff of six or
eight people working for her, including her faithful assistant Mia
Ripley, and Mal knew she ran a very tight ship down there. And to
be honest, autopsy intimidated the crud out of him. How could she
stand to spend so much time down there?

“
You all know what this is
about?” Lorcan asked. “I just received a text from Paige saying
we’ve pulled a case I don’t know about.”

“
You know more than we do.”
Malachi didn’t like surprises. And his team had wrapped up most of
their pressing cases. There were always a few cases that took
weeks—sometimes months or longer—to solve. And those colder cases
were what he had his people working on now.

He was the first one to
reach the morgue door and he told himself that it wasn’t because of
any eagerness to see a certain pathologist. But he knew he was
lying.

He’d missed her. Since her
second visit to church, he hadn’t seen her at all. Today was her
first day back, and he had hoped to see her earlier. Even if for
just a moment. But seeing her with a dead body between them didn’t
appeal.

But he really had miss her.
Missed jabbing at her, missed seeing her hazel eyes sparking fury
in his direction. Hell, he even missed the stapler she’d thrown at
his head. Why? How had she become so important to him so
quickly?

And what exactly did that
mean?

Was it just lust, inspired
by the time they’d spent together in that basement and South
Dakota? If so, he could deal with that. Lust was healthy. Lust was
normal. Obsessing over a waspish female who made her living cutting
open dead bodies was probably not normal.

Perhaps he should think
about that.

Later. Right now he and the
other two men were busy scrubbing up before entering the autopsy
room.

Julia insisted that anyone
entering or exiting her pathology lab do a thorough scrub down and
wear protective clothing upon entering.

Paige waited inside, along
with Julia and her assistant. “High, ho, gang’s all
here.”

Hellbrook didn’t waste
time. “What’s going on?”

“
We wanted you to see
this,” Julia said. She looked straight into Malachi’s eyes as she
spoke. She held out a bagged piece of evidence and Mal took it. A
small chess piece—a pawn—was encased in the clear plastic bag.
“This was found in her throat. Upside down. Most likely forced
there.”

“
Let me get this straight,”
Lorcan said. “Some bastard shoved this in the woman’s mouth. Did it
kill her?”

“
Possibly. I found vomit
surrounding the piece, so she aspirated with it already lodged in
place.”

“
So she could have choked
on this.” Did it mean what he thought it meant? Was it the same
UNSUB?

“
Yes. Possibly, it was used
as the method of death. I’ll know more in a few hours. But as of
this point, I have to assume she didn’t voluntarily
eat
the
piece. So…I figured you boys would want to squabble over whose team
gets her.”

“
She’s mine. But I’ll need
a secondary team.” He’d find him. He had all the PAVAD resources
behind him now. “How did she get here? And where was she found?
What all do you have on her?”

Paige, bless her, spoke up.
“Knight sent her over.  I have him on his way here, now.
Orders directly from Agent Len, so he should be quick about
it.”

“
Good.” Malachi looked down
at the woman on the table, for the first time noticing the long
brown hair and the narrow build. She probably wasn’t much bigger
than Julia. If at all. Had she noticed the similarities? “If this
is the same UNSUB, this is his thirty-third victim. In at least
five years.”

“
So many,” Julia murmured.
“And you’ve found nothing on him.”

“
He’s that good.” Malachi
looked straight at her, until she met his eyes. “I just have to
find the right piece of the puzzle and I’ll have him.”