Unhinged (24 page)

I
fought against the tightening muscles in my neck and recounted the known facts. My gaze remained fixed on my fingernails as I picked underneath them, hoping it would become irritating to my interrogators.

Agent Zachary was the poster child of patience and attentiveness. He probably thought he had hit the big time, being personally selected for this investigation. I could see his fellow rookie agents congratulating him while secretly tearing him down behind closed doors. But I saw a pawn before me, a dispensable item to be discarded anytime during the game.

My story continued. “We came to the conclusion the killer had watched Angel for a while. That night he broke into her house and waited. When she arrived, she was knocked out, tied up, gagged, and taken somewhere out of sight. The killer had somehow managed to lure Toliver to Angel's house, probably to show me he was in control. The male vic had no evidence of anal entry, so we assumed our killer played the catcher. After they did their thing, the gay man was stabbed, and the killer dragged the girl out of her hiding place and beat and raped her, then murdered her.”

“What did Agent Wayne say about the perp's psychological profile at this point?” Agent Zachary asked.

“Wayne held to the belief he was a sadomasochist. He likes to get the pain as much as he likes to give it. He has an inferiority complex and is basically a coward. He puts makeup on his female victims to give them some dignity in death or positions their bodies in a certain way, as if to say he was sorry for what he had to do. Wayne believes he's religious, probably prays over the bodies after he's done with them. He said that in a lot of cases, the killer actually goes to church for redemption.”

“That's true.” Zachary looked at Dorrick for acknowledgment and to possibly get his head patted.

I went on and on and on until Dorrick stopped me.

“Why did you continue to investigate without us after interviewing Eleanor Lotz?”

“You didn't show. We went on our own.”

“And Gene Lotz escaped. You could be reprimanded for that.”

“Do what you have to do.” My tongue felt like the Sahara, and I was sick of the blame game. “I thought you still wanted me to advise on this case.”

He laughed as if I were a security guard trying to give James Bond advice. “I've decided no. I admit you have a big stake in this. But because of past circumstances, I can't have you going off and playing your
Die Hard
fantasies so you can end up a guest on some late-night talk show like
The David Kingsman Hour”

“Yeah, that's me. I'm doing this for the fame. You want me as bait for Lotz. You want me off the case so Lotz will feel safe enough to approach me. I know I'm being watched. Besides, you know you don't have jurisdiction in this case.”

“Two days ago there was a similar murder in Bay St. Louis just over the Mississippi border. It's federal now. I have total authority.”

“Who'd he kill in Mississippi? Tell me, you bastard.”

“A man by the name of Tim Sails. A homosexual who had his penis severed. Know him?”

I shook my head. Just because the man's penis was cut off didn't mean it was Spider who did it. This particular murder was just an excuse to have a proper reason for stealing the case, as if Greenwood wouldn't have handed it to him.

“It's Agent Zachary's turn now. Just give me one second, Agent Zachary.” Dorrick looked into the mirrored window and ran a finger across his throat in a slashing motion. I assumed he had just told them to stop taping. He leaned in and whispered, “We know what you were doing at Sarah Simpson's place. You wouldn't want Jennifer to find out, would you? Be careful what you do when you leave here. Maybe you should just
leave it be.”

I watched, wide eyed, as he leaned back and waved at the mirror, doing everything short of yelling action. The video was rolling again. “Ask any questions you want, Agent Zachary.”

“I'm afraid I don't have much to inquire about at this point,” Zachary said. “I just want to verify some of the observations made by Agent Wayne in his case file. It's quite extensive and a bit tedious. Would you like some more coffee before we begin, Detective?”

“I don't see why not.” I held myself in my chair to avoid screaming accusations about my beating. The one thought that kept my calm was joining Paulina in a mysterious disappearance.

Dorrick smiled. “Get the detective some coffee, please,” he said to no one in the room.

I
finally left the field office at 1:30 p.m., walking onto a little blacktop parking lot on a bright, ninety-degree day with 100 percent humidity. Dorrick practically admitted he was the one who jumped me. He made sure to tell me that I was going to be watched day and night. I envisioned blackmail photos of Sarah and myself showing up for Jennifer at Children's Hospital.

I checked my cell phone in the car to see three voice mails, all of them probably from Captain Greenwood. I flicked the air-conditioning to high and turned the radio off. The first message was from Greenwood telling me to get my ass into the station when I was done with the FBI.

The second message was from Jennifer. She was at our place and wanted to do lunch, and also she loved me.

The third message was from Bienvenue, asking me to call him when I got the chance. Bienvenue and Greenwood would have to wait. I was starving, and hopefully Jennifer hadn't eaten yet. I pressed 1 on my speed dial, getting Jennifer on the second ring.

“Hey, darlin', it's me.” I drove out of the parking lot, absently scanning the area, waiting for a car to dart out and get on my bumper, but it didn't happen.

“Hi, my fiancé.” She giggled. “What's going on?”

“Bullshit. The Feds just interviewed me for nothing. They tried to scare me. Did you eat yet?”

“I was about to give up on you, fix a sandwich, then go shopping. You want to meet somewhere?”

“Yeah. I'll meet you at Copeland's in a half hour, okay?”

“Ooh, nice. All right. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” I disconnected. Some Ricochet Catfish was sounding pretty good at this point. My hunger and that insane experience with Dorrick had given me a major headache.

The Copeland's lunch crowd had thinned, so we didn't have to wait long for a table. We ordered as soon as the waitress noticed us, showing off our extensive knowledge of the menu.

“Tell me what happened,” Jennifer said.

“They basically had me go over everything that's happened so far. We didn't cover any new ground. They told me that I'm off the case—I figured as much. A new profiler was assigned, though. A young kid, fresh out of Quantico, it looks like.”

“What happened to Agent Wayne?”

“He was reassigned.” I changed the subject. “What's new at the hospital?”

“I had an old lady almost die on me in the hall. Her grandson was in surgery at the time.”

“She all right?”

“We were able to resuscitate her. She's doing well. It's the most excitement I've seen in a while. Oh, and Donna, the nurse I was under when I started, got engaged, too.”

“Really? You two have a lot to talk about, huh?”

“It's news. I was just telling you. You did ask. You act like it's wrong for me to be excited.” Jennifer played with her ring as I held her hand on the table.

“You're right.” I chuckled. “I think it's adorable when you're all smiles. Do you have tomorrow off, too? I forget.”

“No. I have another double.” She took a big drink from the tea just delivered. “So, no one knows any more about where Lotz might be hiding?”

“Nope. He just disappeared. He's either got the perfect hiding place or someone's helping him.”

“A conspiracy theory?” she whispered.

“I don't know. We could have had him at his grandma's when I first spotted him. Friggin' FBI. They're all control freaks.”

“They kicked you off the investigation because they think you messed up his capture?”

“Yes. Greenwood's too much of a coward to stand up for me, and the Feds walk all over him. He left me a message. He's itching to tell me something. But they're keeping a tail on me and on you, I think.” I scanned the restaurant. “They probably think I'll keep going on my own.”

“You won't get in trouble for that?”

“I could. But look who's been killed. I need you to promise me you won't put yourself in a position where you're alone. Always, always have someone with you, especially when you're in the parking lot at the hospital.”

“I know, honey. I promise.”

Copeland's was excellent as always. I kissed Jennifer good-bye and made my way back into the French Quarter, dreading a confrontation with Captain Greenwood. Dorrick had most likely briefed him with bias on our session.

I parked on Conti Street behind a string of five cop cars and walked a block to the Eighth District, saying hi to several uniforms along the way. After I trotted upstairs, I ran into Detective Bienvenue who was standing near his desk.

“Greenwood's lookin' for you. He seems upset.” Bienvenue stared at me, obviously concerned.

“I know. I suppose I should just get this over with.” I knocked twice and heard him yell for me to enter.

“Hey, Captain. Here I am. Those Feds sure know how to waste time.”

“Come in and sit down,” he snapped.

“What's going on? Am I still on the force?”

“It would appear that way. Where were you? Dorrick called and told me you left hours ago. I've been trying to reach you.”

“I was starving, so I stopped for a bite. I forgot to check my messages.”

He shuffled some papers, and his face contorted into disappointment. “You better get your act together. Dorrick told me they pretty much had to force you into cooperating. You're dealing with a very powerful man. Are you trying to get fired?”

I leaned back and sighed like a hoodlum in the principal's office. “Why were you trying to reach me? What's the emergency?”

“Dorrick told me you were asking questions at Tripper's. Are you investigating this case on your own? ‘Cause I can't have that.”

“I went there for a beer.”

“I tried to fight for you with my superiors, but I'm getting a lot of pressure from above to keep you away from this case. You have no idea how long I've been on the damn phone.”

“The Feds aren't trying too hard to locate this guy. Who are you putting on in place of me? Bienvenue and Landeaux?”

He nodded. “I think they can handle it. Except now it's a federal case. They'll be helping the FBI. I'm sure they'll brief you on updates. You can advise them off the record, of course.”

“You can't do this. You know I have a personal stake in it. The guy could come after Jennifer next.”

“It's outta my hands. It's more than just the FBI being upset with you. I can't say, but this is coming from very high up.”

“God?” I asked with a dead stare.

“I'm getting heat from my own superiors. If I had my choice, I'd keep you on. And damn it, check in regularly. I need to know where you are at all times.”