Phoenix Feather (20 page)

Bryan stood. “You will tell me if you decide to buy a ring? I won’t be the last to know?”

“You’ll be the first.”

Bryan paused and eyed his brother warily. “Have you already decided?”

Trent tilted his head. “I’m leaning.”

It took a moment, but Bryan smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Trent grunted in jest. “Now get out of here and let me sleep.”

Dispatch tones interrupted their goodbye. Trent groaned and ripped open the sleeping bag.

“Sorry,” Bryan said with a grimace.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Trent said, and dashed for the door. “We’ll talk about you spending Christmas with me and Aidan!” he shouted over his shoulder as he raced for the equipment bay.

***

Bryan hung up from his seventh hospital call. The search for a Scott or Skid or even John Doe being treated at an emergency room within the past four weeks was turning up empty. While he worked on hospital calls, Jess combed through accident reports with fatalities, but she wasn’t having any luck either. It had been a week since their so-called lead, but it had led them nowhere as far as Bryan was concerned. He regretted getting his hopes up.

Jess hung up her phone and sighed. “I’m willing to admit my theory was wrong,” she said bitterly.

“Maybe your theory that he moved is the right one,” Bryan said, but the thought did not make him happy. Seattle would be safe, but another city would be in danger, and another police force would have to start from scratch. “Hmm.” Bryan tapped the top of his pen against his chin. “Maybe we should be looking for similar crimes in other areas.”

Jess straightened. “At least put the word out. I’ll see if the Forensics Team can run a search through ViCAP. It might take them some time to get to it though.” The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program was the F.B.I.’s database for tracking violent crimes, and was useful in determining if a suspect or killer had committed more acts in other areas by comparing consistent MOs.

Bryan shook his head. There were too many open cases, and priorities had to be followed. If they could just generate some evidence for this case, they would hit the top of that priority list. As it was, they just had nothing to go on.

“Yeah,” he said. “Do that.” Bryan turned to the next hospital on his call list. They had to exhaust all possibilities at this point, however slim they seemed. He glanced at the door and hung up mid-dial. “Hey, Casey, what’s up?”

Casey hadn’t been up to see them since the fourth victim. “I think I may have something on your victims.” She pulled a folder from under her arm and opened it. “The family of the fourth victim came for the body last week…” she paused at Bryan’s questioning look. “They were very hard to reach since your vic was adopted and not on good terms with her adoptive parents. Anyway,” she continued. “It reminded me of victim number one. When her family came to identify the body, I noticed they looked nothing alike, and in the conversation I had with them, they mentioned that Jenny Rosland was adopted too.” Casey slid the folder onto Bryan’s desk. “So I called the families of the other two victims, and they confirmed that both of them were also adopted.”

Bryan grabbed the folder. “You’re kidding.” Such a specific detail, it had to be part of the killer’s MO, a necessary factor in how he chose his victims. He passed the folder to Jess. “A connection besides their red-hair,” he murmured. “That’s excellent work, Casey.”

“I just hope it helps.”

“Now we know which victims he chooses,” Jess said. “But how? Does he meet them first, talk to them?”

“Was there any mention by the families of these women looking for their birth mothers?” Bryan asked.

Casey shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He looked at Jess. “Maybe a private investigator.”

Jess nodded, the wheels in her head spinning like his were. “A white van could come in handy for surveillance, and would make its use part of his profession.”

Bryan shook his head suddenly, his mind going in several directions at once. “But our Scott suspect didn’t sound like a private detective.”

Jess leaned her elbows on the desk. “Maybe he’s pretending. Like that guy in California who posed as an agent for a modeling company.”

He frowned. “Every two weeks though…that’s pretty fast to find exactly the right type of victim.”

“Do you think he ran out, and that’s why we haven’t seen anything?”

Bryan clenched his fist and knocked it against the side of his desk. Pieces, they only had pieces. Key pieces, but they still had no idea what the bigger picture looked like. Until they did, it was as though the information they had was gibberish. What was it about adopted girls with red hair that made this guy want to burn and strangle them? What was the fantasy?

“Let’s contact Social Services, see if we can get a list of females adopted in Seattle,” he suggested. “I think this will put us as a priority with the forensic techs.”

“Uh,” Casey interrupted. “Kerri Broderick was from Atlanta.”

“Hmm...okay.”

“Age range,” Jess put in. “We’ll look up births from twenty-five years ago, give or take five years in either direction.”

Bryan groaned. “For the whole country?” That was a depressing thought. “Let’s get on it.”

Bryan finished making his hospital calls by the time the first set of names came in. A tech dropped off the list of girls born twenty to thirty years ago that had been adopted. Now Bryan and Jess had to eliminate those not living in Seattle and who did not have red hair. It was slow and tedious, like slogging through knee-deep mud. There was a slight hope though, that if they could find potential victims before the killer did, they might be able to prevent another murder. The killer’s silence still nagged at Bryan in the back of his mind. They had no idea what the psychopath was thinking. Was he even interested in these women anymore?

“No, I won’t be home tonight,” Jess said into her phone. “We got another lead, another huge stacking amount of paperwork kind of lead.”
 

“I can’t promise anything.”
 

“No, Christmas I will definitely make time to stop by, even if I can’t stay the whole day.”

“I know. Love you too.” Jess hung up and rubbed her hands over her face.

“Kids are asking about you?” Bryan guessed.

“They wanted to go ice skating.”

“That sounds fun.”

“I’ll make it up to them when this is over.”

“Extra Christmas gifts?”

Jess made a face. “No. I’ll take them to the park or something. Time is what’s important, not bribery.”

“Does that really work?” Bryan asked.

She arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever tried?”

“Not very hard, no,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t help the disappointment, but at least they know for sure I love them.”

Bryan nodded. “Got it.” He ran his finger down the list of names, sorting and highlighting them one by one into separate categories of likely matches, possible matches, and no matches. He was one of four detectives and five officers working on the names, and they would work nonstop until they’d gone through every single piece of paper.

“Bryan,” Jess said, almost in a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Bryan,” she said more forcefully, and he snapped his head up. Jess’s eyes were wide as she passed her piece of paper over. Bryan scanned the highlighted names. He froze at the last one she had marked.
Aidan Quinn
.

Bryan looked back at Jess, who sat rigid in her chair. It had to be someone else. Bryan turned to his computer and pulled up DMV records. The muscle in his jaw jerked. The name, the picture, the address, it was all the same. Aidan had already reminded him of the victims he had spent the past few months trying to find justice for. She had even been friends with the first! But she was adopted as well?

“What are you going to do?” Jess asked.

Bryan ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.” But he was not going to let the love of his brother’s life become a target.
What if she already was one?
Then he wouldn’t let her become a victim. There had to be something he could do. He couldn’t just tell Aidan he thought a serial killer might target her though. Bryan wanted to hit the wall. Trent had next week off, and he’d probably want to spend it with Aidan. Maybe they could go somewhere… Bryan’s thoughts raced as quickly as his fingers dialed. The cabin! Trent and Aidan could spend Christmas up at his grandparents’ cabin. He tried to calm his breathing and steady his voice. He needed this to be a casual suggestion, one that Trent would find appealing and agree to out of a desire for a nice, cozy romantic vacation, and not what Bryan saw it as: a mad attempt to hide Aidan out of town while Bryan did everything in his power to hunt down a killer who may or may not find her enticing.

“Hey, Trent,” Bryan said as jovially as possible. “I just had an interesting idea.”

Chapter Eighteen

Ah! He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was—ravishing, like a tzarina poised in a great hall, her hair a fiery mass like the sun, burning his eyes with its brilliance. Oh, and her eyes, so rich, so deep, like molten copper whirlpools. They bespoke such mystery, such ancient secrets—and yet, so sad. She could smile, and it would be crippling in its beauty, in its gaiety, but her eyes would speak a different message, a longing too deep for words or outward expression. She was a creature above and beyond any mortal. She had to be the one!

To think he had given up, so close to his quarry.
Forgive me!
He wrapped his fingers gingerly around his idol, the delicate feather perfectly preserved in a glass case. Why had he been in that place? He had not meant to go there, and yet, had found himself right where he needed to be to catch a glimpse of her. It was fate, he concluded. He had been tested and tried, driven to the brink to prove his worthiness. And he had. He had worked and toiled, forsaking all other mortal pursuits to save himself for this one. And Fate had blessed him.

He searched his records, just to make sure it was not a cruel trick of the eyes. But there she was, on his list! Hope stirred within him again, reignited the passion that drove him. He’d have to plan, prepare for her arrival. He would need to watch, learn her movements, her patterns—where the best place would be to take her. This time he was sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that he would have his jewel, and keep her for the rest of eternity.

Chapter Nineteen

Aidan pushed open the doors of the lecture hall for the final time that year. She had just completed her last oral exam of the semester, and was now experiencing what every other college student termed “freedom.” Aidan liked school, but the closer she got to graduating, the more excited she became about the next phase of her life.

Trent waited on the steps, two cups of something steamy in his hands. Her smile broke into a wide grin.

“Well hello.” She slipped her arms around his waist.

He leaned forward to kiss her. “Congratulations on finishing the semester. Did you ace it?”

Aidan pretended to look insulted. “Of course.” She eyed the cup he was holding. “Is that for me?”

He grinned and handed it to her, which required she let go of him to take it. She did so begrudgingly.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said.

She took a sip and tilted her head. “Oh?”

He grinned smugly and wrapped his now free hand around her waist, leading her toward the parking lot. “For Chris and Phoebe too. You’ll have to endure fifteen minutes of suspense.”

Aidan pushed her lip out in a feigned pout. “I’m intrigued.”

Phoebe had given Aidan a ride to school that morning, having already finished her finals the day before, and in hindsight Aidan wondered if she and Trent hadn’t planned for him to give Aidan a ride home. It didn’t bother her if they had though. They walked to Trent’s car, and he drove to Chris and Phoebe’s apartment.

A large wreath hung on their door, heralding the holidays, and Aidan could hear Christmas music inside. Phoebe was prancing around with a string of lights, giddy from what must have been the leftovers of a four-month long adrenaline high.

“Hey!” Chris greeted them. “Welcome to Winter Vacation!” He had recovered from his bout with the flu and was looking well, if not for the beginnings of thinness around his cheeks.

“Phoebe, you started without me,” Aidan complained, though she didn’t mean it. Christmas was an interesting holiday. The mood lasted from the day after Thanksgiving to Christmas morning itself, a morning that varied in events from well-practiced rituals to chaotic masses of “family.” Back in Colorado, Aidan had never felt comfortable at such gatherings. She had always been considered an odd child, knowing too much for her age. It had just been easier to slink into a corner and watch the festivities like a wallflower.

But here…Aidan smiled. Here it was a nice balance of sweet fellowship, erratic laughter, and quiet adoration. Phoebe, Chris, and now Trent, all knew Aidan was a little odd, and loved her anyway. She would be no piece of decor this year.