Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Dan stood in front of the board, his head moving slowly as he took it all in. Gary watched him, aware of a tingling at the base of his neck.
What do I expect to happen? He goes into a trance and yells out the name of our killer?
So far, Dan appeared to be an ordinary guy—with great taste in movies.
As soon as they’d entered the small room, Dan had come to a halt at the sight of the photos.
Each victim was displayed with a central head shot, surrounded by crime scene photos showing the position of the body, marks, and of course, the letter carved into the skin above the buttocks.
Gary left him to his own devices, not wanting to distract him.
Riley was keeping quiet too. He sat in a chair, leaning forward as if he were mesmerized by the proceedings.
Lewis stood apart from them, his back to the wall, silent, watchful, his expression neutral.
Gary was thankful for that. So far it looked as if Lewis had taken every opportunity to irritate Dan.
At last Dan took a step back, went over to the table, and picked up his cup of coffee. “I see the marks on their wrists and ankles. Anything I’m not seeing that’s important?”
Gary joined him. “The killer had penetrative sex with each victim, and we don’t know if it was consensual or not.” Dan half-turned his head toward him, sniffing. He blinked, then went back to studying the photos.
Gary resisted the urge to sniff as well. What’s wrong with the way I smell?
“Maybe you can tell us if it was consensual,” Lewis muttered. “That is the idea, isn’t it?”
If Dan heard him, he gave no sign. “Is this the order they died in?”
Gary nodded. He pointed to the first photo. “Trey Hopkins. March eighteenth, 2016. He was thirty-two.” He moved his finger. “Denver Wedel. December second, 2016. Forty-seven.”
“They both appear well-built. Did they work out?”
Another nod. “We’d hoped they were members of the same gym, but no such luck. Didn’t stop us from checking out all the members and interviewing them. No leads. They were both popular guys.” He indicated the third photo. “Geoff Berg. June sixteenth, 2017.”
“And the waiting period between murders shortened,” Dan mused.
“Yeah. Geoff was the youngest victim—so far. Twenty-nine. By all accounts, he was a fireball. He was also the victim with the most contacts to sift through.” Gary pointed to the fourth image. “Vic Zerbe. December twenty-third, same year. Thirty-five.”
Dan moved closer to the board and stared at the photo of Marius Eisler.
“I saw this one when it happened. A little under two weeks ago, right? Another mature guy.” Then he shifted to the farthest edge of the board.
Gary’s chest tightened as Dan peered at Cory’s face, breathing a little easier when no comments were forthcoming.
Dan turned to face him. “How does he kill them?”
“We found ketamine and Rohypnol. The former appears to have been a fatal dose. Our medical examiner thinks the ketamine was used to sedate them. They’d have been awake but controllable before the ketamine killed them.”
Dan shivered. “The killer doesn’t appear to have a type, does he? They differ in age, size….”
Gary twisted his neck to stare at Lewis. “Don’t you have something to say, seeing as you’re now the lead on this?”
Lewis shrugged. “Why bother? You’re doing fine without me. I’m just waiting for Dan here to announce who the killer is.”
Dan focused on Lewis’s face, his nose wrinkling as he grimaced. “Wow. And this is your interpretation of full cooperation?”
“I’m sorry—” Gary started.
Dan cut off Gary’s apology with a raised hand.
“It’s okay.” His tone was even, calm. “I’m used to this reaction.
” He studied Lewis in silence for a moment, and Gary noted how Lewis stuffed his hands into his pockets, his mouth pressed into a straight line.
He didn’t meet Dan’s unbroken stare but glanced away.
Dan put down his cup and took a step toward Lewis, who flinched.
“I’ve met plenty of skeptics in the police.
Join the line.” Dan folded his arms. “You want a demonstration, is that it? Okay, then. Give me something. I’m not making any promises because it’s not something I can turn on and off like a faucet.
And it helps if I’m in a mindful state, where I’ve concentrated on clearing my mind. ”
“And there we have it. The get-out clause if you don’t come up with anything.” Lewis gave a triumphant smile. “I knew there’d be one.”
Dan took another step, until there was barely a foot between them, and Lewis seemed to curl up, shrivel.
What is he so scared of? Dan didn’t appear to be the kind of guy who’d react physically, but Lewis looked as if he was ready to bolt from the room.
Dan clearly had the same thought. He backed off, his gaze still locked on Lewis. “Why don’t you give me something personal of yours, Detective, and let’s see what I can come up with about you?”
Lewis’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. “Why don’t we stick to the case?”
Dan said nothing but took a farther step away from him, and Lewis relaxed visibly.
Gary went over to the box on the desk. “This is the stuff Lieutenant Travers had us bring up from Evidence for you.”
“Okay, about that.” Dan joined him, peering into the box. “I meant what I said a moment ago. I can’t turn it on and off. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, and I still have no clue how it works.”
“What happens when it does work?” Riley’s eyes were bright. “This is fascinating.”
Dan smiled. “I take it you don’t think psychics are all fakers and charlatans?”
Jesus. It was as if he’d reached into Gary’s mind and plucked the phrase from his memory. He had to suppress a shudder.
Riley chuckled. “Hell no. My grandmother was into spiritualism in a big way, and it was eerie, some of the things she knew. I guess I have an open mind when it comes to this kinda thing.”
“How does the saying go? The mind is like a parachute. It only functions when it’s open.”
Lewis snorted. “Where did you get that? A fortune cookie?”
“My great-grandfather told it to me.” Dan grinned. “Said he got it from a Charlie Chan movie.” He returned his attention to Riley. “Sometimes I get images. Other times, visions. Those can be quite uncomfortable.”
“Do you have to interpret the visions? Or are they pretty straightforward?”
“Both? It’s not an exact science.”
Lewis huffed. “I think science might be pushing it a little.”
Dan ignored him. “The simplest explanation is….” He gave a shrug. “Sometimes I know stuff.” Riley laughed, and Dan joined in. Then the laughter faded. “But being serious for a moment? There have been occasions when I desperately wanted to come up with something, and… zilch. Like I said….”
Riley nodded. “You can’t turn it on and off.”
Dan looked at Gary. “You choose something. Don’t tell me anything about it.”
Gary sorted through the evidence bags, scanning the labels. He chose a watch that had belonged to Vic Zerbe. “Do I need to take it out of the bag? The only prints on it were the victim’s.”
Dan nodded. “If that’s okay.”
Riley lurched to his feet. “Here. Sit.”
Dan gave him a grateful glance. “Thank you.” Gary opened the bag and placed the watch with its leather strap into Dan’s hand.
“Do we need to hold hands? Put on creepy music?”
Gary glared at Lewis. “It’s not a séance, you jerk.” Lewis arched his eyebrows, but Gary was past being polite. Lewis’s attitude to Dan was pissing him off severely.
Dan closed his eyes, his breathing slowing until there was little movement in his chest. No one spoke, not even Lewis.
Gary took the opportunity to study Dan. He was about Gary’s age, of average build, but slim across the hips.
In fact, he was lean all over, judging by the way his clothes hugged his body.
His air of concentration was impressive; it was as if he’d blotted them out.
After a moment of silence, Dan opened his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not getting anything.”
Gary dropped his shoulders. “It’s all right.” His ribs grew tight, his breathing hitched.
“I’m probably jamming his frequencies,” Lewis muttered.
Dan snorted. “I am not Tangina Barrons.” His gaze met Gary’s. “She was way cooler than me.” That twinkle was attractive.
“Tangi—who the hell is that?” Lewis gave Dan a blank look.
Gary didn’t hesitate. “The psychic in Poltergeist.” He glared at Lewis. “If you’re going to stay, you’ll be quiet, okay?”
Lewis took a step back, gazing at him with wide eyes. “Okay.”
Will Freeman stuck his head around the door. “Riley, there’s a call for you.”
Riley walked out, closing the door behind him.
Gary took the watch from Dan and replaced it in the box.
“Let’s try something else.” He searched the bags, his pulse quickening when he saw Cory’s name.
Do it. Gary reached into the bag and removed Cory’s pinky ring.
His mouth dry, he placed it on Dan’s upturned palm.
As he withdrew his hand, their fingers brushed, and Dan jerked his head up, staring at him.
“Something wrong?” Gary hadn’t gotten a shock when they touched.
“No, nothing.”
Gary was no psychic, but even he knew that was a lie. Something had rattled Dan for a second.
Dan covered the ring with his hand and closed his eyes once more.
I was with Cory when he bought that. Cory had saved up all his money from mowing lawns one summer to buy it. When it grew tight, he’d transferred it to his pinky, and there it had stayed.
Dan was as motionless as a statue, and once again Gary felt sure he wasn’t aware of anything but the object between his palms. Dan’s breathing hitched, then hitched again, and goose bumps erupted over Gary’s arms.
Something was coming, as tangible as an icy hand on Gary’s nape.
Dan opened his eyes to stare at Gary. “Oh my God.”
The tightness around Gary’s ribs increased until drawing breath became a chore. Cold trickled through him at the sight of tears spilling onto Dan’s cheeks.
Oh fuck. Gary couldn’t move, was rooted to the spot. His throat seized.