Tanner and MacLaughlin nodded.
“The media has nicknamed him ‘The Knife,’ which will only encourage him, I’m sure, but it sells papers and gets ratings.”
“Before you tell me any more, can I see the photos? I’d like to form my own profile first, after which we’ll compare them to see if they match.”
“That works for me.” Mac pointed to the folder Billingsley had set on MacLaughlin’s desk. “I assume those are copies of all the photos.”
Billingsley stuck his head in the office. “Mac, you have to head out. We got a call about a possible homicide.”
“Is it our guy?” He stood.
Billingsley shrugged. “They don’t know, but it might be.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
Tanner stood as well. “I’ll go with you. If it’s another Knife murder, seeing a fresh scene will help me get more ideas about your suspect.”
Mac looked at Billingsley, and his captain nodded.
“Fine with me. Can you drive? The captain’s going to need my car to get back to headquarters.”
“Yes.”
Mac followed Tanner from the bureau’s offices. Mac wanted to stare at Tanner’s ass, catching glimpses of the jean-clad flesh. He blinked, raising his gaze to Tanner’s broad shoulders.
“I thought Feds wore suits,” he commented as they reached a dark blue sedan.
Tanner grinned. “Oh, we do, but I tend to operate on my own dress code. Sam doesn’t mind as long as I do my job.”
Mac chuckled. “I guess you must be good at your job.”
“Where are we headed?”
Tanner pulled out of the parking garage while Mac checked his phone. Billingsley had e-mailed him the information.
“You know where Thurston Street is? We’re looking for number 9879.”
“Yep. I’ve lived in Houston all my life.” Tanner sent him a quick glance. “How about you?”
“Moved here about ten years ago when I got my job with the rangers. Originally from California.”
“You must like it here, since you’ve stayed that long.”
“Probably like it a lot better if my job wasn’t dealing with crime and dead people.” Mac stared out the passenger window at the buildings flashing by.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Tanner turned left, bypassing a lot of downtown traffic. “What do you do for fun when you’re not working a case?”
“Watch sports. I play on a softball league.” He went out on a limb. “Go to Windy’s for drinks once in a while.”
Windy’s was the biggest gay club in Houston. Maybe he took a risk by admitting he went there, but the interest he’d seen in Tanner’s eyes told him he’d be okay mentioning it.
“I’ve been there a couple of times. Not big on clubs. They tend to be really crowded, and I don’t like crowds.”
That had gone well, so Mac took another step.
“Maybe we could go someplace quieter for drinks and dinner sometime,” he suggested.
He got a bright smile from Tanner.
“I’d like that.”
They pulled up in front of a warehouse and climbed out of the car. Several police cars lined the street, and the coroner’s van was already there. Mac headed toward the door, figuring Tanner would follow. He held up his badge for the uniform at the entrance.
“He’s with me.” He gestured at Tanner, who flashed his own badge at the guy.
“No problem, Detective. Nothing’s been touched. We were told to wait until you arrived.”
“Thanks.”
He hurried down the echoing hallway to where people gathered in the doorway of a room.
“Sorensterm, what do you have?”
His fellow ranger and occasional work partner looked up, his face even paler than usual. “It’s another victim, Guzman. No way it can’t be.”
Mac steeled himself before he glanced in the room. Staring at the body so obscenely displayed, he accepted the gloves and bootees for his shoes from one of the crime scene techs. The victim’s blonde hair streaked with blue caught his attention, and his heart stopped.
God, it can’t be. Please don’t let it be.
Once he was outfitted to go in without contaminating the scene, he entered and went directly to the body. His hands trembled as he angled his head to see the inside of the woman’s elbow. A birthmark marred the skin, and Mac closed his eyes.
He swallowed his shout of anger and clenched his hands. While every muscle and nerve in his body wanted to tear something apart, he forced all his emotions behind a door in his mind. He’d deal with everything later, when he was by himself.
No one could know he was familiar with the killer’s latest victim. He didn’t want to get taken off the case, especially now that he had an even stronger reason to solve it.
Marissa, his foster sister, was dead.
* * * *
Standing in a corner out of the crime techs’ way, Tanner committed everything to memory. The photos would help jog them when he reviewed the file, but he was happy to see a fresh scene. He winced. Okay, so happy wasn’t the best choice of words. No one could be happy at the carnage done to the female. Yet being able to see it firsthand would help him get inside the mind of the killer.
He glanced over at Detective Guzman. Something was bothering the man and had been since they arrived at the warehouse. Whatever it was went deeper than just having a fifth victim. Tanner studied Mac’s body language. The tense shoulders, clenched hands, and the way he watched every move the techs made spoke to it being more than just a good detective wanting everything done by the book.
As one of the techs lifted the victim’s arm, it slipped from her hand to drop with an audible thud on the table where the woman had been displayed.
“Show some respect,” Mac barked.
The tech’s expression questioned his order.
Tanner spoke up, giving the woman a request that made sense to her. “Please be more careful, and mark any postmortem bruising.”
Mac blinked like he’d forgotten Tanner was there. The ranger nodded at him before approaching the medical examiner. Tanner moved closer as well.
“What you got for me, Doc?”
The ME grunted. “I put time of death about twelve hours ago.”
“Just like the others,” Mac muttered.
“It appears so. I’ll be able to tell you more after the autopsy.” The ME stared at Mac. “You finished? Can I take her?”
Mac looked at Tanner, who nodded. The crime photographer had been thorough, and Tanner figured he’d have enough different angles to recreate the scene if necessary.
A body bag was brought in, and Mac hovered like he was afraid the techs would drop her. Tanner wanted to make a comment about the woman being dead. She wouldn’t know if they dropped her. With the way Mac acted, Tanner figured the detective wouldn’t find it funny.
Tanner respected death, but he didn’t see the point of acting like the dead could hear or feel. Whatever sort of soul bodies housed disappeared the minute hearts stopped beating.
“Make sure everything’s bagged and logged in as evidence.” Mac stalked from the room.
Tanner looked over his shoulder as he left. They were settling the body onto the gurney. Something on her chest above her left breast caught his eye. The black bag covered most of it, and he made a mental note to check it out on the photos when he got them.
“Who called this in, Sorensterm?” Mac asked the other ranger.
“Anonymous tip. More than likely some squatter or homeless person found her and called it in. Maybe they thought they’d get a reward or something.” Sorensterm shrugged.
“Another anonymous tip.”
“The other bodies were found the same way?” Tanner inquired, seeing an upsetting and long afternoon in his future, getting caught up on the case.
“Yes. Each coming twelve hours after the girl was killed. Who are you?” Sorensterm eyed him.
“Special Agent Tanner Wallace. I’m a profiler with the Behavioral Science Unit, but I’m assigned to the Houston branch of the bureau.” He didn’t offer his hand. The cold look in Sorensterm’s gaze told him the man wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.
“Jasper Sorensterm, detective, Texas Rangers. I occasionally work cases with Guzman.” The man’s grim expression got even darker as the gurney rolled by. “So Captain Billingsley decided to bring in the big guns.”
Mac shook his head but didn’t say anything, not taking his gaze off the black bag being loaded into the truck.
“What I believe is your captain decided to get a second opinion—or profile—on your killer. To see how accurate the first one was. As far as my boss is concerned, we’ll offer assistance, but this is your show,” Tanner interjected.
“Awfully nice of you.” Sorensterm didn’t look convinced.
Tanner shrugged. He didn’t really care whether Sorensterm believed him or not. He didn’t play office politics, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to play interagency games either. He would do his job as Sam directed him and pray they caught the bad guy before the bastard killed again.
“Hey, Mac, I’ve been trying to get a hold of Snap to set up our next poker game. You hear from him today?” Sorensterm changed the subject.
The mention of a regular poker game surprised Tanner. There didn’t seem to be any love between Sorensterm and Mac. The men managed to keep their dislike for each other hidden, but Tanner was trained to pick up on the subtle things.
“Saw him at the Federal Building. He and his team were heading out to pick up Victor Delarosa.”
Sorensterm froze in surprise, and Tanner barely suppressed his own shock at the mention of Delarosa.
“You’re not serious?”
Mac rolled his eyes. “Do you really think this time is going to be any different than the last dozen times they’ve gone before? No matter how good the tip is, Delarosa won’t be there. Guy has an intel network rivaling the CIA. He’s always twelve steps ahead of them.”
Tanner shifted slightly. Any talk about Delarosa made him nervous.
Mac suddenly seemed to remember Tanner was there. “Tanner, you’re welcome to canvas the area with us, or you can go back to your office and start looking at the photos. I can catch you up on the other killings later.”
As much as he wanted to stay with Mac, he wasn’t really needed. “I’ll go back then. Call me when you have time to talk.”
He tipped his head to both men before strolling to his car. He felt someone’s gaze on him and hoped it was Mac. The Texas Ranger was as tall as Tanner, and their builds were similar, but where Tanner got his muscles from working out, he had a feeling Mac was very active, playing sports and other activities.
Mac’s dark brown hair was cut ruthlessly short. His odd golden hazel eyes were cool and observant, yet Tanner wouldn’t have been surprised to find out the man hid a passionate nature under his cold exterior.
After he started his car, he risked looking back. Sorensterm had disappeared, but Mac stood there, watching the car intently. Tanner lifted a hand, and Mac responded by touching his fingers to his hat brim.
“Whew, Tanner, my boy. I do believe you’re in over your head,” he muttered as he drove away.
Knowing he shouldn’t, he dug out his personal cell phone and punched in a number.
“No worries.” The deep voice answering the phone told him.
“Thank you.” He hung up, tossing the phone on the passenger seat next to him. It was stupid to call, because he risked everything by doing so, but he needed to know. At times the worry kept him up at night, and he hated it.
He arrived back at the offices just in time to watch the DEA agents return.
“No luck?” He stepped onto the elevator with a large African American agent.
“No.” The man shook his head and smiled weakly. “Never thought he’d be there. Told my boss we needed to get reliable proof before we rallied the troops. No one listens to me.”
“Sorry to hear it didn’t work.”
“No big deal. We’re still cutting into his supply chain and his money. Only be a matter of time before we trip him up.”
The DEA agent got off on his floor, and Tanner rode up one more before stepping off.
“Agent Wallace, Special Agent MacLaughlin would like to see you ASAP,” the receptionist said as he walked by.
“Thanks, Susie.”
He wandered down the hallway to Sam’s office. He knocked and waited for the gruff “come in” before entering.
“Susie said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes. Sit.” Sam pointed to a chair. “I wanted to talk to you about this serial killer case.”
“Okay.” He found it best to let Sam do most of the talking.
“I want you to stay on top of things with that detective. Make sure he keeps you in the loop as much as possible.”
“I thought we weren’t taking over the case.” Tanner frowned.
“We’re not at the moment, but if the time comes for us to step in and take the lead, I don’t want there to be any lag time while we’re getting up to speed.” Sam exhaled loudly. “This is a bad case. One of the worst I’ve seen. The insane asshole butchers them, Tanner. He tortures and slowly lets them bleed to death from their wounds.”
“And displays them in a macabre five-pointed-star position.”
“Do you think he’s a devil worshipper?” Caution colored Sam’s voice.
Tanner knew his boss didn’t want to plant suggestions in his head, but Tanner’s mind had already gone there.
“It’s one possibility. I’ll have to learn more about the victims. There’s a reason why he’s picking the women he takes.”
“Of course.” Sam waved his beefy hand at the door. “Copies of all the files were delivered while you were out. Start going through them. Hopefully you’ll find something to help.”
Tanner stood. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
Before heading to his office, Tanner detoured to the break room, where he made some tea. He’d drunk so much coffee when he started at the bureau, he’d ruined his stomach. Now he couldn’t drink it, which was for the best. The caffeine wasn’t good for him. Cup of decaf tea in hand, he returned to his office to find two boxes on the small table sharing space with his desk.
“Should’ve brewed more tea,” he said aloud and set his mug down.
He hung up his jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. Time to do his job, no matter the cost to his soul.
Chapter Two
Mac stared out the window of his apartment at the dog park it overlooked. He wasn’t seeing the animals or their owners. Memories of Marissa raced through his head. He’d only lived with her family for six months before Mr. Leviston got transferred out of California and Mac got sent back into the system.