Plain Jane (9 page)

“Here’s the pattern.” Kent pointed to the rearranged files. “It’s been staring us in the face for months.”

“Harbinger!” The captain snapped, then regrouped. “If you can’t wait your turn respectfully, I will have to ask you to leave. Now.”

Nicole tensed, ready to intercede as Kent stared him down. Glick wasn’t going to put up with much more.

Surprisingly, Kent simply shrugged. “Fine.”

The room silenced as the profiler turned to leave. Kent did not even look over to her as he passed.

Ruben haltingly continued, “The killer power-reassures when he takes the victim from behind, then power-asserts when he cuts their throats.”

Suddenly, Kent grabbed Nicole by the hair to expose her neck. Exactly as the killer must have done. Everyone was on their feet, some even taking a tentative step forward, hands on their holsters.

But Nicole’s instinct to fight him off was suppressed by Kent’s almost soothing voice. Like a father explaining one of life’s little mysteries.

“He takes them from behind because he can’t look them in the face. In the eye.”

“Harbinger, let her go!” Glick demanded.

Kent grabbed a red marker and used it like a knife across her throat. By the shock on everyone’s face, Nicole knew it had left a bright red line.

“He slits their throats so they can exsanguinate slowly, though relatively painlessly.”

Despite his bizarre behavior, Nicole could see by her colleagues’ expressions that they were mesmerized.

“He needs them alive. At least for a few minutes.”

Ever so slowly, Kent’s hand snaked down her side, just missing the curve of her breast. With the care he would take when making love, he untucked her shirt to reveal bare belly.

“He needs her heart still beating when he cuts into her.”

Nicole gasped as Kent slashed the marker across her stomach. The profiler tugged on her skirt, pulling it lower and lower down past her belly button. Nicole had never been gladder that she had bikini-waxed.

“A cut which has gotten smaller and smaller. Cleaner and cleaner. Implying he had no medical experience. Instead he learned on the
job
.”

Kent knelt so his face was level with the slash he created. His tone was almost loving. “I understand now,” he said as he rubbed her belly. “What he takes isn’t a trophy. Not a souvenir to masturbate with later.”

With great care, Kent drew the outline of a uterus on her skin, then traced over and over again with his finger. “No. He doesn’t want a uterus. He
needs
a womb. He needs blood to still be flowing through the source of all life as he takes it.”

Everyone seemed too captivated to move, but Nicole’s hand, reached out and rested upon Kent’s head. “Why?”

Kent traced the outline one last time, then rose and pointed toward the board. “The coroner found evidence of an abortion within Joann’s uterus.”

Finally, Ruben found his voice. “So?”

“So?” Kent mocked her partner’s tone. “Nine other victims had a history of abortion as well.”

“But eight did not.”

Kent looked at Ruben. “That we
know
of.”

The profiler must have known he had the room’s attention and he used it to his advantage. “He took their uteri. He took away any evidence that would have proven that they’d had abortions. We only know about those other nine because their families told us.”

Kent turned to her. “We got lucky. Now it’s time to get smart.” Even though the bullpen was crammed, it felt as if it were only the two of them. “We did not ask the other families if the vics had an abortion, because we did not realize it was the causal link. If we reinterviewed them…”

Nicole fed off Kent’s energy, the thrill of discovery setting her brain afire. “But abortion can be traumatic. The family might not even know if the woman had an abortion, especially if it was a while ago.”

“We need to subpoena their complete medical records.”

Nicole nodded. “Dig around their financials in case they paid cash at an anonymous clinic?”

Kent brought them nose-to-nose. “Exactly.”

No matter that they were surrounded by her colleagues: Nicole could feel the heat of Kent’s body. His gaze upon her. She knew the rest of the room squirmed. She knew that Ruben was squirming, she just didn’t care. The fire in Kent’s eyes held her entranced.

A forced cough from Glick brought the room back to reality. “Then you best get started on the paperwork.”

Kent didn’t look away from Nicole as he answered. “No can do. Let Rogaine-boy handle it. I’ll be out.”

“Where?” Ruben answered, his tone as bent out of shape as he most certainly was.

Again, Kent seemed to only have eyes for Nicole. “To find her. His next donor.”

“That approach hasn’t worked very well so far.”

“Before I was looking for a generic victim.”

“And now?” Bitterness tainted Ruben’s tone.

Kent’s hand found Nicole’s belly and rubbed it oh-so-slowly. She barely heard his response. “I know exactly who he’s looking for.”

“Who?” Her question was a rush of air.

The profiler kissed the red uterus. “Mommy.”

Breathless, Nicole watched Kent stride off. And it was not just her. The entire room was stunned. No one moved. It took the sound of the door closing for even Glick to rouse.

“All right, people. Let’s track down the families, subpoena the medical records—”

“Captain!” Ruben nearly shouted, then lowered his voice. “I didn’t even get a chance to—”

Glick pointed to the rearranged board. “Were you going to present anything more concrete than this lead?” Nicole felt a rush of sympathy for her partner as he shook his head. Seldom did anyone’s ego survive unscathed with Kent on the prowl. The captain raised his voice so the entire room could hear. “Then let’s get moving.”

The knot of cops scattered as if a strong wind had blown through. The energy of the room shifted. Where before there had been despair, there was now hope. Where there was disappointment, there was now determination. While not entirely founded, it felt as if the killer lay just beyond their fingertips. Almost within grasp. Or at least Kent’s grasp. And Nicole had to be there when he caught Plain Jane.

“Sir—”

“Go.” Glick seemed to know her desire. “Stick with him.”

Nicole did not need to be told twice. She snatched her keys and was on her way out.

The captain called out after her. “Make sure he doesn’t break the law, and if he does…” Glick caught her gaze. “Make sure you’re the one to arrest him…again.”

Nicole cringed. He’d just busted her for Kent’s little stunt at the morgue last night. But if Glick was not going to make an issue of it, then neither was she. “Of course, sir.”

CHAPTER 31

Ruben watched Nicole rush toward the door. Rushing after Harbinger. You’d think he’d get used to the view.

Beside him, Glick called out to Nicole again, “Usher.” The captain waited until she turned back to him. “Cover up.”

With a questioning glance, Nicole looked down, then realized that her belly was still exposed. Embarrassed, she tucked the blouse back in, disappearing down the stairwell.

Everyone else bustled about, fulfilling the captain’s orders. It seemed Ruben was the only one not energized by Kent’s dog and pony show.

“Where do you think he went?”

Glick shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Then how is she going to find him?”

The captain turned his gaze to Ruben. A look of sympathy crossed his face as he spoke. “She’ll know.”

Ruben wanted to argue, but there was no point. Glick was right. Harbinger could be in the Antarctic, and Nicole would find him. For Ruben, she could not even remember his street number half the time. He looked around at the room full of amped cops. And not just the young ones. Even the more seasoned detectives were intent, refocused, confident.

How many more women had to die before they all realized that Kent was nothing more than a charlatan? A peddler of snake oil? Harbinger would either get himself killed or run off, his tail tucked between his legs. At this moment, with the sting of his public humiliation still fresh, Ruben was not sure which he hoped for more.

CHAPTER 32

The work cubicles at the local DMV office were orderly and felt-lined, but cramped. Which made scooting his chair just a fraction of an inch closer to Dolores an easy sell.

The fifty-something DMV worker was more than a little flustered by Kent’s presence. Just how he liked his prey. This big-haired lifer at the DMV was putty in his hands. She would get him the information he needed, without a stupid, time-wasting warrant.

“I’m sorry…” Dolores gulped, then wet her lips. Kent had picked exactly the right distance between them. “We’re looking only at brunettes, five feet to five feet two, and…”

Kent had to help her. He feared she might just swoon if he made her concentrate any harder. “Ninety-five to one hundred ten pounds…” He nudged her, then winked. “A little too thin for my taste, but whatcha going to do?”

Dolores flushed brighter than her Moulin Red rouge and looked away. While he didn’t move closer, Kent leaned forward. Just enough to stir the air between them. Just enough to let the pheromones waft from his body to her nostrils.

By the wedding ring on her finger that pinched into her skin, Kent could guess she had been married for over four decades. Probably to a high school sweetheart. A boy who had aged into an overweight drinker. Dolores’s own nose was a bit bloodshot, most likely with hypertension, and statistically seldom did women drink alone. Which would mean those two probably had not had sex in months, if not years. In this cramped cubicle, a little pheromone went a long way.

“And the age range was?”

Kent smiled his rouge smile, implying they were doing something a little naughty, making them conspirators. “Let’s go for twenty-nine to thirty-five. Make it within the 63105.”

“That’s a pretty limited search range.”

He certainly hoped so.

Even though Dolores’s fingers were plump, they flew across the keyboard as she entered Kent’s request. Almost instantly the first picture was up on the screen. Even though this Mandy Pfizer fit the prerequisite stats, she was far too pretty. Plain Jane did not like his women made-up. “Nope.”

The next had too large a nose. The next too busty. The next too flat-chested. The next…

“Wait.”

This one had the look of the last girl left on the sidelines during the dance. She was shy. Her eyes were downcast in the picture, and she was slightly turned away from the camera, as if she could somehow hide from the lens.

“Maybe, just maybe.” Kent turned to Dolores. “Cross-reference county records to see if she’s had any live births.”

The DMV worker’s penciled-in eyebrows shot up.

“It’s a very detailed study.”

Dolores’s fingers moved more slowly. “You sure you don’t need a warrant for this information?”

Kent had to ante up from roguish to rakish grin. “Would I lie to you?”

Blushing scarlet, she hit the key. The search turned up two live births. Plain Jane took only childless women.

“Never mind. Next.”

“Sure you’re not using this database search as your own personal Match.com?”

For an overweight, square-dancing, DMV-lifer, Dolores was giving him a run for his money. He had to pull out the
GQ
smoldering vibe. “Do I look like I need any help from a computer dating service?”

Obviously Dolores did not think so, as she continued with the search. Kent rejected the next ten out of hand. He knew the killer’s preferences, and none of those women had them. Soon, poor Dolores was typing as fast as she could, the pictures flying by.

“Wait.”

Dolores stopped the search on the pretty brunette. Pretty, but not beautiful. Plain, but not boring. Kent studied the eyes, the nose, the lips.

“She your type?”

Kent was in another world when he answered. “More importantly is she
his
type?”

“
His
type?”

Abruptly, he said, “Print up her stats, then move on.”

Dolores sounded surprised. “You want more than one?” Kent realized he’d lost her. He went back to rogue.

“The more the merrier.” But this seemed to bother the DMV worker more. “Or at least that’s what my
captain
says.”

“Your captain?” Dolores sounded downright scandalized, but Kent knew her tone hid a piqued interest, so he shrugged, drawing her into their little escapade even further.

He made a point of taking in a deep breath. “And what is that lovely perfume you are wearing, Dolores? White Diamonds?”

The DMV worker was back to blushes and stuttering. She was firmly in his court, but was there ever any doubt?

CHAPTER 33

Nicole parked in front of the Out of This World comic book store. This was the third one she had hit, and still no Kent. As she walked into the tiny store, she really did not know why they bothered having more than one in the city. Each comic store looked exactly the same. Old and shabby. Rows and rows of comics. Posters of gaudy superheroes. Honestly, what did Kent see in these children’s toys?

Even the guy behind the counter looked just like the last three, a Shaggy look-alike, who was too busy reading the latest Daredevil to bother greeting her. His handwritten badge declared him to be Sebastian.

“Sebastian, has Kent Harbinger ordered anything through your store?”

The man looked over his Lennon spectacles. “And who’s asking?”

“Officer Usher. Now, do you have anything for Harbinger?”

Sebastian dug behind the counter, then came up with a sealed first-issue Archie comics. “Just got it in yesterday. A kid traded online for—”

“Did you tell Kent you got it in?”

“That’s what I get paid the big bucks for.”

Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. She had him. Kent would never let a find like this wait for long. “When did he say he was going to be by?”

“He wanted me to stay open late, but hey, I’ve got plans, you know.”

“Don’t bother covering for him.”

“Please, he boosts more books than he pays for.”

Nicole glared. He still had not given her the information she needed.