Authors: Alexa Grace
"Who's Kaitlyn?"
"Abby's sister. She hired me to find Abby."
Brody shook his head. "You've got to be kidding."
"No." Gabe slid out of the booth.
"Gabe, you have to be interviewed. If the body is identified as Abby Reece, you not only dated her, you found the body. A detective from the Indiana State Police will be here this week. Stick around so I can find you."
"State Police?"
"Yes, since you're my brother, it's an obvious conflict of interest for anyone from my staff to do it."
"Right," Gabe muttered.
"Another thing. I have to suspend you as our computer forensic consultant."
"Really? Then who is going to examine the contents of Abby's laptop?"
"I'll have to find another consultant."
"Wait a minute. I know who you can hire. Call Anne Mason-Brandt."
"Anne? I know she used to own a computer-related company, but she's not qualified to do computer forensics."
"Yes, she is. She got certified about six months ago. Anne does a lot of work for Frankie Hansen's P.I. business. She'd do a good job, Brody."
"I'll call her, but in the meantime, stay close."
<><><>
Later that day, Brody was in a dark rage when he barged into Michael's office, hitting the door back against the wall with the flat of his hand.
"I just heard something that can't be fucking true!"
From behind his desk, Michael leapt to his feet and held up a hand in restraint.
"Calm down, Brody."
"Seriously? Calm down?" Brody was incredulous. "I just heard that Ryder's been moved out of maximum security to an undisclosed location. Is this true?"
"Yes, the FBI moved him yesterday."
"What the hell is going on?" Brody couldn’t stop the raw fury that slammed into him every time he thought about it. "Is it also true you're working on a plea bargain with that animal?"
"Quiet down, Brody. The entire floor can hear you."
"How can I calm down when I just heard you're talking about a plea bargain with Jim Ryder?"
"Sit down so we can discuss this," Michael motioned to a guest chair on the other side of his desk. "You may not know that I started my career as a cop. I've been on your side of law enforcement. I understand what you're feeling."
Brody sat down, but on the edge of his seat and leaned toward the prosecutor. "We risk our lives to get the bad guy, and then once he's in the legal system, everything works to his favor. He gets out and commits the same crimes and the cycle starts again."
"It's not like that," Michael explained. "We have him on seven counts of murder. I'm one hundred percent certain he's going to get the death penalty."
"Then why the plea bargain?"
"We have him for killing seven girls, seven counts of murder, and if we give him death, that's all we'll ever have a chance of solving. We think there are more victims." Michael paused, elbows on his desk, searching Brody's face for signs of understanding. "We have DVDs of Ryder beating, torturing and raping ten additional victims, and we have no clue who they are or where he put their remains. Ryder is the only one who can tell us. He says if he gets the plea agreement, he'll tell us who they are and show us where their remains are."
"How do you know he's telling you the truth? Ryder's a prolific liar."
"We have an interrogation analyst from the FBI listening to every conversation we have with him. So far, the analyst says he's telling the truth. There are more victims we haven't identified and remains we haven't found. Jim Ryder is the only way we'll find those victims and give closure to their families."
"After what's he's done, that freak doesn't deserve to live. He should get as much mercy as he gave his victims."
Michael leaned back in his chair. "Does he deserve to live? Hell, no. He's a monster. Do the families of the unidentified victims deserve to know what happened to their missing daughters so they can give them a decent burial? Yes, they do. If we can give it to them, we owe them some sense of closure. In the end, they are the only people who matter in this. They've suffered enough."
Chapter Five
A clap of thunder vibrated through Gabe's office, shaking the windows, vibrating the floors, and startling Kaitlyn. The wind had picked up and rain pinged against the windows, blurring the glass and collecting on the sidewalk and street below. She turned on Gabe's desk lamp to illuminate the darkened room. It was morning, yet the stormy skies made it seem like evening had come.
Another siren, the third one within thirty minutes, pierced the momentary stillness. Kaitlyn returned to the window in time to see another county deputy cruiser racing toward the other side of town. The car created a wave of water that drenched a woman huddled under an umbrella, entering the building's lobby below.
Lifting her mug to her lips, Kaitlyn discovered the coffee was cold and bitter, which made her wonder just how long she'd been standing at the window. She heard more sirens, and wondered what had happened so early in the morning. For that many officers to race to a crime scene in this small town, it must be serious.
Anxiously, Kaitlyn paced in front of Gabe's office window and looked for him in the street below. She checked her watch. Where was he? Why wasn't he responding to her texts? She told him she'd return this morning. Why wasn't he here?
Remembering the night before, the thought of his kiss sent shivers of desire racing through her body. It shouldn't have happened. What was she thinking? After all, she'd hired the man to find her sister. Starting something with him would only complicate things. Besides, was she ready to trust another man after what Mitch did to her?
Footsteps sounded from the stairwell, and soon a shadow appeared on the frosted glass of Gabe's office door. Kaitlyn raced to open it.
To her surprise, a woman stood before her, squeezing rain water from her long, dark hair. Every piece of clothing the woman wore was soaked and dripping water onto the floor.
Carly did a back-step to make sure she was indeed at Gabe's office. Yes, his name was printed in black letters on the frosted glass of the door. She was as surprised to see the young fair-haired woman at the door as the she seemed to be to see her.
She smiled and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Carly Stone. I'm looking for Gabe."
"Gabe's not here."
"Are you one of Gabe's clients?"
"Yes, I'm Kaitlyn Reece. I hired Gabe to find my sister."
Carly's heart thudded when she heard the last name "Reece." Was this woman Abby's sister? "Your last name sounds familiar."
"My sister, Abby, is missing. You may have seen one of the missing flyers, or maybe heard her name on the news."
"That must be it." Shedding her soaked raincoat, Carly folded it over her arm.
"Please come in. I'll find some towels for you. You must be freezing in those wet clothes."
Carly watched as Kaitlyn opened a set of pocket doors and entered Gabe's private living area. Clearly it wasn't the young woman's first visit to Gabe's office. She knew her way around. Why hadn't Gabe told her that he was hired as a P.I. to find Abby Reece? Soon Kaitlyn returned with a couple of thick white towels. Carly wrapped one around her shoulders and began dabbing at her wet blouse and pants with the other.
"I think they call this kind of storm a toad strangler," said Kaitlyn with a giggle.
"I don't know about the toads, but it looks like it made a good try at strangling me,"
Kaitlyn eyed Carly with renewed interest. "I think I've seen you in the paper. Aren't you the profiler the sheriff hired last year?"
"Yes, I am."
"Has the sheriff made any progress finding my sister?"
"I believe the West Lafayette police have your sister's case in Tippecanoe County. It's outside the sheriff's jurisdiction. But I'm sure they're doing all they can to find her," Carly said. Although if the woman's body they'd found earlier in the alley turned out to be Abby Reece, the case would be turned over to Shawnee County and Brody's team. She prayed Kaitlyn didn't ask more questions about her missing sister. Glancing down at her watch, she realized Abby Reece's autopsy would begin in a couple of hours. She couldn't stay much longer, but she really wanted to see Gabe and make sure he was okay.
Loud footfalls on the stairs caught their attention, and soon Gabe burst into the room, out of breath, as soaked from the storm as Carly was. He glanced at the two women, muttered something under his breath, and stripped off his jacket to hang it on the coat rack.
Grasping Carly's arm, he glanced at Kaitlyn. "Sorry I'm late. I need to talk to Carly about a private matter in the hallway. I'll be right back."
Closing the door behind him, he turned to Carly. "You didn't tell her about the body in the alley, did you?"
"Of course not, and here's a question for you. Why didn't you tell me that Kaitlyn hired you to find her sister?"
"It just happened a couple of days ago."
"I'm not judging, Gabe, but don't you think it makes things even more complicated? I mean, you dated Abby, and now she's missing. Then you are hired by her sister as a private investigator."
"At this point, everything I do makes my life more complicated," Gabe responded, clearly frustrated. "I was already looking for Abby when Kaitlyn asked me to help. I couldn't say no to her."
"Brody told me you found the body in the alley, and that you think it might be Abby. How did you happen to find the body?"
"It's a long story, Carly. Ask Brody about it. I just talked to him." He tiredly ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
"I'm sorry, Gabe. I came here to see if you needed to talk. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"Yes, you can tell me if the body is identified as Abby Reece as soon as you know."
<><><>
Gabe found Kaitlyn sitting on the sofa in his living area. She looked worried and anxious. He wanted to fold her in his arms and make the burden on her slender shoulders slip away.
"Where have you been? I told you that I would be here at nine o'clock."
"I'm sorry. Something came up." It wasn't a lie, but was close. He refused to tell Kaitlyn that her sister might be lying in the morgue without a definite identification. What if the woman's body wasn't Abby after all?
"I heard police sirens. Do you know what is going on?"
"No. Maybe it was another fire. Brody told me they think we may have a serial arsonist." The lie came out smoothly, and he prayed she believed him. Skillfully, he changed the subject before she had a chance to ask a question.
Kaitlyn eyed Gabe and wondered why he'd just lied to her. There were men who tell award-worthy lies, but Gabe wasn't one of them.
Just as she was about to confront him, he pulled off his wet T-shirt, revealing broad shoulders, a rock-hard chest that tapered nicely down to a rippling six-pack, tight waist, and slim hips. The man was exquisite. There was no other word for it. The room temperature seemed to raise a couple of degrees. Kaitlyn's heart jack-hammered against her ribs as she tried to throttle the dizzying current of excitement racing through her body. Forcing her eyes to his face, she found Gabe watching her with a smile that slowly tipped up one corner of his mouth.
Embarrassed she'd been caught ogling him, Kaitlyn's face burned a dark scarlet. Rising to her feet, she struggled to compose herself. She glanced at her watch. "I need to go. My new teacher orientation starts in fifteen minutes."
"New teacher?"
"Yes, I got hired as a third grade teacher at Morel Elementary. I'm filling in for a Mrs. Grey, who went on maternity leave."
"That's great, Kaitlyn. Congratulations." Gabe walked her to the door.
"I think so, too. I love kids, and teaching them has been my dream since childhood. I'm pretty excited." Good Lord, she was chattering, filling in the empty space that lay between her embarrassment and attraction. The faster she could put some distance between herself and Gabe, the better.
"I can tell. It's good to see you smiling." He handed Kaitlyn her umbrella.
With a deep sigh of relief, Gabe watched Kaitlyn from the window as she strode down the rain-dampened street toward her car. Thankfully, he was able to avoid telling her that they may have found her sister's body.
Why did he feel so protective toward Kaitlyn? Okay, the feelings he had for her were more than just protective. Even knowing it was a mistake to get involved with her, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He wanted her, and the heat in her eyes a few minutes ago told him she felt the same way.
<><><>
At eight o'clock that night, Brody, Cameron, and Carly waited for Bryan Pittman in the sheriff's conference room. The coroner was scheduled to present his autopsy report about the young woman whose body they found in the alley that morning.
Carly and Cameron had attended the autopsy earlier in the afternoon, and had painstakingly slipped items into evidence bags. Cameron had photographed the vintage brocade-covered high-heel shoe found on the victim. Carly had been correct. The shoe was two sizes too large for the victim. It was a size eight, and the victim wore a size six. If it wasn't Abby's shoe, whose was it? Cameron planned to email the shoe photo to a sizable state law enforcement email list to find out if the shoe was linked to any of their cases. Since a small percentage of bodies are left posed, he would attach the photograph of the posed body he'd taken at the crime scene, along with the shoe photo.
Realizing Brody would want him to head the homicide case, especially if the victim was Abby Reece, Cameron had spent the day re-assigning some of his cases to Ron Bergman and Sal Murray on his detective team.
Carly had researched the life of Abby Reece on the Internet, first comparing her photo on Facebook to that of the body in the alley. Though they still lacked an official identification, she was certain the body was that of Abby Reece. Next, she used her findings to start a preliminary victim profile. Abby Reece was not in a high-risk occupation, like a prostitute, which involved casual sexual encounters with strangers. She was a college student who may have had casual sexual encounters, but they probably took place in the relative safety of the college campus in a dorm room or apartment.
Of course, once Bryan officially identified the body, Carly would talk to friends and family members to generate more detail about the victim's lifestyle, and how it may have contributed to her death. Hopefully she'd be able to have enough information to start a profile of the killer. Questions whirled in Carly's brain like a tornado. Was the killer organized with a plan, or a specific preference of killing? Did he have a fantasy that only particular victims would fulfill? Did he know his victims, or did he target strangers?
Carly glanced at Brody, who seemed anxious and concerned. Why wouldn't he be? His younger brother could be named as a person of interest in a murder case. She wished there were something she could do to ease the worry lines on his face. If they were alone, she would have straddled him on his chair and kissed him until his worries disappeared — at least momentarily.