Taken in Hand (2 page)

Though their pants had been stripped down to their knees,

none of the men showed signs of rape. Time of death for all

four was estimated to be between ten pm and four am.

The severity of the beatings and mutilations indicated

a personal, out of control rage. All had been kept silent with

a type of gag used in BDSM called a ball gag. The search was

on for the manufacturer as a possible lead.

Both couples had ties to the University and they

socialized together from time to time. One couple frequented

a private sex club in Atlanta. He filed that bit of information

away to be examined later. Despite the thorough job Phillips

and Johansen had done of interviewing friends and family,

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University personnel—including those with limited contact

such as delivery people—and students, even the club one

pair belonged to, nothing presented a red flag. They’d had

run into one dead end after another. It was time to try

something a little bolder to draw the killer out, instead of

waiting for the next victims to turn up.

Chad glanced down at his watch and cursed softly

under his breath. He had been so absorbed in the reports

he’d let the time get away from him. He had only fifteen

minutes to get across town to the restaurant where he was

meeting the professor. He pulled on his jacket and hurried

out to his car, hoping the traffic wouldn’t be too bad that

time of day. It wasn’t too far distance wise, but the

restaurant was near the old campus and the downtown area,

where traffic could get heavy at times.

Luck was with him. He not only made it to the area in

ten minutes, but he had no trouble getting a parking spot on

the street outside. What were the odds this close to

lunchtime? Silently sending up thanks to whatever gods

might be responsible for his good fortune, he went inside the

warm interior and scanned the occupants for his man.

Correction,
for the professor, he reminded himself uneasily.

The restaurant, known for its excellent food, was

pretty crowded, but he picked out a man right away he

thought might be the one. He was maybe in his late thirties,

balding a little on top, with glasses he wore on the bridge of

his nose as he looked over the menu. Chad took a step

toward him when the man was joined by two women, one of

whom appeared to be his wife or girlfriend by the squeeze

she gave to his hand.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and Chad

turned to gaze up into a pair of deep brown eyes. The man

was at least six-two, with a trim and toned body, a good four

inches taller than Chad. He had artfully mussed brown hair,

a full mouth, and movie-star good-looks. He wasn’t smiling,

however, and didn’t look too happy to be there. Fine lines

around his eyes showed he wasn’t quite as young as Chad

first judged him to be, and Chad adjusted his estimate to put

the man in his mid-thirties.

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“Sgt. Williams, I presume? I’m sorry if I kept you

waiting. A student came to my office without an

appointment.” He frowned a little over the words, and Chad

was glad he hadn’t been the hapless student.

He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Professor.

Thanks for taking the time to speak with me.”

Morrison nodded curtly, accepting his hand and

looking around for the hostess. “Let’s find a seat, shall we,

and we can talk.” He looked down at his hand still encased

in Chad’s grip and narrowed his eyes a bit. Chad realized

with a start he’d been holding on for far too long. He dropped

the hand quickly and took a step backward, putting more

distance between them.

A tiny smile played at the corners of the professor’s

mouth as he waved down the hostess and had a word with

her. She led them to a booth in the back. Handing them their

menus, she promised to send their waitress before bustling

back to the reception area.

Morrison met his eyes over the top of the menu. “What

are you going to have, Detective? The black bean soup here

is excellent, as is the frittata.”

“Just a hamburger,” Chad said, folding his menu.

The professor pursed his lips a bit and frowned again,

making Chad feel like he expected him to order what he

suggested, though he didn’t like black beans and had no

fucking clue what a frittata even was. A hamburger obviously

didn’t meet with this guy’s approval. And why did that

bother him, damn it? He didn’t need the guy’s okay on

anything.

Chad settled back in the booth and glanced around

the restaurant. About three-quarters full, people talked and

laughed quietly around the room. It had a nice vibe, with its

old brick walls and snowy white tablecloths, upscale without

being pretentious. Chad liked it right away. Even though the

place had been in town for years, he’d never been there. He

usually didn’t hang out in downtown, preferring to grab

something at a drive-through if he ate out after work. Since

he’d split with his last girlfriend six months before, he hadn’t

gone out much at all.

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The waitress appeared, and he ordered a sweet iced

tea and a hamburger, while the professor ordered the frittata

with water.

“I’m starving,” he confided across the table, adding a

charming little smile. “I had an early class after my workout

this morning, and I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

Chad took in the broad shoulders and the hint of well-

defined clavicle showing beneath his shirt. This guy worked

out all right. “Yeah, you look like you exercise a lot,” he

commented and was instantly puzzled by why the hell he’d

felt the need to comment. More than that, why did the

professor make him uncomfortable? He reminded himself

this was a work situation, and there was no need for him to

feel bothered by a simple observation even if the guy was gay

and likely to take his comment wrong. Police officers were

taught to observe. No need for the urge to squirm as the

professor gazed across the table at him. Get down to

business, damn it.

“Thanks for meeting me, Professor Morrison.”

“No problem. I told the other officers I spoke with that I

was willing to help any way I could. Lt. Johansen and

Philips, I believe. Where are they, by the way? Are they still

on the case?”

“They’re still primaries on the case, yes, but I’ve been

assigned to work with you.”

“With
me
?” One perfect eyebrow rose. “For what

exactly? Consultation?”

“That and more—if you’ll agree to it.”

Chad leaned forward slightly to tell him the chief’s idea

only to straighten when the waitress arrived with their

drinks and food. She put everything down and asked if there

was anything else she could bring them, her attention

centered on Chad. “Are you sure you have everything you

need? I’ll be glad to get you whatever.”

Chad nodded, looking down at his plate. “No, looks

fine, thanks.” She finally left, throwing a flirtatious smile

over her shoulder and twisting her hips a bit more than was

probably necessary as she walked away. Disinterested in the

show, Chad caught amused speculation in his companion’s

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regard.

“You were saying, Detective?” the professor asked.

Irritation put an added crispness in his voice. “My

chief had a little something different in mind other than

consultation.”

“Oh?”

“He’s hoping you’d agree to a bit of an undercover

operation. We’re taking the threat you received very

seriously.”

“Good, because I am too,” he said, his voice grim.

Chad nodded. “We need to draw the killer out, make

him do something to give us some kind of trail to follow.

Right now we’re at a dead end.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Chad took a deep breath and held the professor’s gaze.

Christ, he didn’t want to do this. “You and me. We’d pretend

to be…uh…boyfriends. See if we can draw the killer out.”

Morrison put down his fork and stared across the

table with a cold glint of steel in his eye. “
Boyfriends
?

Seriously? Using me as the
bait
? Are you out of your mind?”

Chad blinked at him for a moment, feeling relieved.

Still he had a job to do. “The chief thought you might. He

said you would possibly…”

Morrison held up a hand. “I did say I was willing to do

what I could, but this is ...”

As much as Chad wanted to drop it right there, in

good conscience, he couldn’t. “Look, I understand your

concerns, but we would mitigate the danger involved for you

in this. You’d be under continuous surveillance, and I’d be

there in the house with you.”

“Excuse me, what do you mean by you’d be in my

house?”

“He only seems to target couples living together. As I

said, I’d be there whenever you are. We can almost

guarantee your safety.”

“Almost?”

Deciding to press for whatever slight advantage he

could, he caught Morrison’s gaze. “One of the men was a

personal friend of yours. Isn’t that right? And it seems the

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killer maybe bypassed you since you and your last boyfriend

broke up. If you were to take another one, he might set his

sights on you.”

His lips tightened, and a dark glare swept over Chad.

“I had a sub who lived with me for a time. I didn’t have a

boyfriend
. And I’m not sure I’m willing to put myself at risk

as a target.”

Chad nodded and pressed his napkin to his lips. Fine,

he’d made the pitch. “Okay. I understand. It was a lot to ask.

I’ll pay for all this and not take up any more of your time.”

He slid about halfway out of the booth before the man across

from him touched his hand. “You give up pretty easily.

Weren’t you going to remind me how dangerous this monster

is? Tell me about my civic duty or mention how these

murders affect the entire LGBT community? Not to mention

the reputation of the University itself? Try to pile on some

worry and guilt?”

Chad might have thought the professor was playing

with him, except for the haunted look in his eyes. He was

worried and trying to hide it. “You said no. I’m not here to

beg you or pressure you into it.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Detective Williams, all right. I’ll do

it—for all of the above reasons, including the fact John

Anderson was a good friend of mine. I knew him since we

were undergrads together.”

His eyes clouded, and Chad wondered if Morrison had

ever been involved romantically with Anderson. Something

had sure been going on behind those beautiful brown eyes

when he said his name.
Beautiful eyes? Shit, what the hell

was wrong with him?

“Though I’m not sure how this will help,” Morrison

continued. “Surely you don’t think any of my friends have

anything to do with this.”

Chad slid back over into the booth. “Someone sent

those letters, someone who knows details about your

personal life, just as they did your friends. You understand

this means I’d have to move into your home temporarily?”

Morrison sighed. “Yes, I got that. I guess that will

work, so long as you keep your presence as non-intrusive as

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possible. I value my privacy, and I wonder just how real this

threat is to me personally. None of my friends would be

capable of committing a crime like this.”

“Four men are dead, Professor. I’d call that pretty real.

With each of the murders, there was no sign of forced entry,

indicating the victims knew their killer.”

“Points taken, but no cameras or listening devices

inside my home.”

“I’ll inform the chief of your preferences. In the

meantime, if you could make me a list of anyone and

everyone who knows about your lifestyle, so we can start

checking them out.”

“For God’s sake, I don’t have time for that. A lot of

people know about it. I don’t keep it a secret though I don’t

advertise my personal life at work.”

“Maybe so, but what about the club one couple