Chapter Eighteen #2
I tried to do the same thing but couldn’t as I rolled things over in my brain.
Surely, the man who’d tried to take the Bible last night hadn’t come back after being caught.
I lay in Wes’ arms for some time, slowly drifting back to sleep.
I woke with a start when my mobile vibrated.
When I reached for it and opened my eyes, dawn had arrived.
Seeing Napoleon’s number on the screen, I immediately swiped it as I sat up.
“Mornin’. What time is it?”
“Just after six, Pats. You’d better get up. Something’s happened.”
“Shite!” I dropped the mobile and scrambled to pick it up. “Hang on.” I reached for the Henley and pulled it over my long underwear. As my head popped out of the collar, I noticed Wes was awake. I gave him a fleeting smile as I picked up my mobile again. “Hey, Napoleon. What’s up?”
“There was a murder in the camp last night,” he said. “Nash and I called Candy as soon as we saw a crowd gathering. He’s reporting it to police and the ME to get them rolling. The boss is on route as well as the rest of the team …ETA fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. I’m gettin’ up.”
“Nash and I are at the latrines closest to the bridge, and hey, Patsy—”
“Yeah?”
“Candy says not to break cover.”
“Okay.” I hung up and glanced at Wes who was sitting up, also pulling on a sweatshirt. “That was Napoleon,” I said, answering the questions in his eyes. “There’s been a murder. He wants us to meet him at the latrines where we were last night, near the bridge.”
He looked worried and when he spoke, his voice shook. “Who was killed?”
“He didn’t say. He only said the police and medical examiner are already en route as well as Candy. He doesn’t want us to break cover.”
He nodded. “That’s easy enough.”
We were quiet as we stepped outside the tent. The camp was still in the early morning hours, but already quite a few people had emerged from their humble dwellings. A crowd was forming near the latrines and we headed in that direction.
We’d nearly arrived when I turned to find a police car with flashing lights driving slowly down the road behind us. I took hold of Wes’ arm to pull him off the road, letting the police vehicle pass through the parting onlookers as they converged on the scene.
Napoleon and Nash were standing near the latrines; they subtly nodded to us as we headed in their direction.
I grabbed onto Wes’ sleeve to stop him as I caught sight of the body.
The man lay face up, staring sightlessly to the sky through mere slits of his swollen eyes; his misshapen face showed what had to be numerous facial fractures, making it almost impossible to be sure if he was the same man we’d caught or not. Although his clothing looked similar.
He lay some fifteen feet from the back of the latrines.
He’d been beaten to a pulp but even more telling than the brutal beating the man had been subjected to, was the manner of death.
A filthy rope had been wrapped several times around his neck, eerily imitating the ligature the serial killer had used to kill the women he’d brutalized.
I wondered if he’d been knocked unconscious so he couldn’t fight back and then strangled. Holy Mother of God.
I heard a gasp and glanced in Wes’ direction to find him looking stricken as he stared at the brutalized victim with one hand clamped over his mouth. My heart instantly went out to him as regret punched me in the stomach. I should’ve sheltered him from the horror of this mess.
Instead, I’d stopped us both to gawk at the ghastly sight just like all the other busybodies standing around. I swallowed hard and leaned toward him. “Ya don’t have to stay here, darlin’. Why don’t ya go back to the tent and wait for me there, yeah? I need to speak to Napoleon and Nash.”
“That man’s dead, Patsy,” he whispered shakily, looking white as a sheet. “Was he killed like those prostitutes?”
I nodded. “It appears so.” Wes had been shown pictures of the dead women as a part of his briefing back at the office.
“Patsy, is he the same man who stole my mama’s Bible?” Wes hissed, still staring at the victim in horror.
“I don’t know, luv. Go on now. I’ll see ya in a wee while.”
Wes looked at me and nodded before walking away.
I watched him go and then made my way over to where Napolean and Nash stood at the back of the crowd, which was steadily growing.
Napoleon canted his head and we moved even farther away as the uniforms tried to move people back and cordon off the area.
“Wes and I both think that’s the first guy I saw standin’ at our tent last night, but we can’t be sure,” I said quietly.
They gaped at me. “Candy briefed us on what happened, Patsy,” Napoleon said, “and you think it’s the same guy?”
I pursed my lips and shrugged. “He has the same build and he’s wearin’ similar clothes I think. It’s impossible to tell because his face has been pulverized. Obviously he was strangled in the same manner as those girls. But has to be.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Nash muttered.
“Wait, you said first guy?” said Napolean.
I looked back at the crowd, and Candy was coming toward us.
He was dressed casually in jeans and a black leather jacket but there was no hiding the fierce set of his jaw or the way the vicious scar on his face terminated beneath the long, red beard.
He made eye contact and canted his head, silently beckoning us to follow him even farther from the crowd.
I glanced back at the men and women who milled around.
Noting that none of them appeared the least bit interested, I fell into step with the others as we walked twenty feet away.
“I’m going to have a brief conversation with the LAPD and then I’ll meet you back at the bus. The rest of the team is waiting for you there.”
I startled at that. “The rest of the team? What do ya mean? I thought we were limitin’ my backup on this Op to Napoleon and Nash because ya couldn’t spare anyone else.”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “This is more important. I notified them of what happened and they were eager to come along and find out what trouble you’ve landed in this time.
” His smile was intentional as he made the presence of the men I trusted seem as if it were of little consequence when it was anything but.
“Thank ya, boss.” When he started to turn away, I stopped him. “Candy, the victim might be the man I caught pokin’ around our tent last night. But there was another person.”
Candy pinned me with piercing, amber eyes. “Two men. Is there any way you can be certain, Patsy?” The tone of his voice spoke volumes.
I thought about it for a long minute, finally shrugging. “I’m just not sure, Candy. He’s the same height, weight, clothing as the Bible guy, but his face is badly swollen from the beatin’. So probably. But the other one I don’t know. They fled, when I sat up.”
He stared at me for a long few seconds before giving me a sharp nod. “Okay, grab Wes and meet everyone at the BearCat. Mars parked in the same place we dropped you off last night.”
“Got it, Captain.” I knew the killer might very well be watching from somewhere in the crowd, so Napoleon and Nash separated and began heading for the bus while I hung back, waiting until they had half a minute head start.
After they’d put some distance between us, I left the scene and headed back to collect Wes.
When I ducked inside the tent, he was sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag, looking dazed and shaken. I zipped the tent closed and then sat down across from him, reaching for his clasped hands. They were icy cold. He finally came out of his trance and looked at me.
“Was that the man we saw outside the tent last night, Patsy?” When I gave him a small shrug as my only reply, he said, “He was murdered by the serial killer the same way those prostitutes were killed.” It was a statement, not a question.
My guy wasn’t a stupid man…and there was no point lying to him.
I nodded, noting the stark, clammy look of his skin and the way his cold hands shook.
I wished we were anywhere but here. He needed to be away from this shit I’d gotten him into.
He was a grown man, but I was pretty bloody sure he’d never seen anything like what we’d witnessed this morning.
Mathematicians didn’t run into murder victims every day of the week.
“I’m sure it’s the same killer which means Dr. Reeves was right.
The bastard’s been livin’ in this camp the whole time, he has. ”
“Do you think he’s coming for us?” Wes searched my face with wide, frightened eyes.
I pulled in a calming breath and squeezed his hands.
“I don’t know. But I’ll keep ya safe. Right now, though, Candy wants us all back at the BearCat.
He’s talkin’ to the LAPD, so we’ll speculate on the killer’s motives when we’re all together.
” I searched his face for a few seconds before glancing around the tent.
When I turned back, the fear lingered in his expression and hoping to distract him from his morbid thoughts, I asked, “Do ya have yer phone?”
“Here in my pocket.” He patted his jeans.
I leaned in and kissed him softly, lingering as long as I thought he needed before breaking our connection. “Grand, let’s go then. The team will be waitin’.”
He nodded and stood, stooping as he followed me out of the tent. I grabbed the Bible baggie and walked beside him to where everyone was waiting.
We stepped into the large bus Mars had parked about half a mile from the camp ten minutes later.
He’d brought the larger of our two BearCats.
Armored like our usual vehicle, this one was nearly the size of a city bus and roomier with a cage built into one end, meant to transport a suspect when necessary.