CHAPTER TWO
"Thank you for coming." Special Agent Nicole Hartley said when Alison entered the office.
Alison grabbed the woman’s hand when it was extended, and she shook it. She’d come straight from the airport after flying out to California.
"Professional curiosity got the better of me," Alison admitted. "The Riverside Strangler was the first case I worked. Honestly, I didn't do a lot of work on the case, but I wanted to come for another crack at it."
"They never did catch him, did they?" Hartley asked.
"No," Alison admitted. "From what I know of the case, they came close at one point and thought they had their man, but it turned out to be someone unconnected to the case looking for fame. The killer murdered three people and was never seen or heard from again. You really think they’re back?"
"That’s what we want you to help us with," the special agent admitted.
"Okay, but why me?" Alison asked. "I didn't work on the case for very long. You could measure my contribution in minutes."
"Because…" Hartley paused. "Why don't you come through to my office, and I can explain it better to you. All the information is in there."
"Sure."
Alison’s mind ran wild with the possibilities. The special agent had called her out to Philadelphia and was now being vague about the case. There was more to it than just a body.
The FBI field office in Philadelphia was unlike the one she was used to in California.
The field office was much smaller, but the workstations within were almost identical, and it had the same feel.
There was a buzz of noise that lilted through the building, and the rhythms and beats of the phone calls and conversations felt like different verses of the same song.
Special Agent Hartley’s office was larger than Alison had expected, and one wall was covered with photos that Alison viewed but couldn’t take in immediately.
"This is part of the reason why I called you," Hartley said.
Special Agent Hartley was shorter than Alison, had blonde hair to Alison’s black, but they both shared a similar shade of green eyes.
Alison dressed professionally for work in a pinstriped suit, and while the special agent wasn’t dressed scruffily, she wore baggier clothes that looked far more comfortable.
Alison only picked up on it when the special agent turned to the side, and she gained Alison’s respect immediately. She had not formed an opinion of the agent, which usually came after some time working together, but the baggy clothing was meant to hide the developing belly.
The special agent had been pointing at one of the photos on the wall, but caught Alison’s gaze moving downward.
Harley smiled. "It’s getting harder to hide."
"How far along are you?" Alison asked.
"Just over five months."
"That’s incredible." Alison laughed. "Even just the miracle of life in itself, but to be working at the same time. It must be hard."
"Yeah." Hartley stopped to think about it. "It can be at times, but I’m used to it. It’ll get a lot harder as we get closer to the due date, but I’ll work as long as I can. I hope you’re okay working with a pregnant agent."
"Of course," Alison said. "The real question is whether or not you’re okay working with me. I have an uncanny ability to attract danger."
"You also have an amazing knack for solving the cases that no one else can."
"Then let’s hope we solve it together before there’s any danger."
Alison couldn’t help but smile again as the agent went back to work. Her job was inextricably linked to death, and yet, here was new life.
"We received an anonymous phone call," Hartley explained. "We believe that call came from the killer, but we haven’t been able to trace the phone it came from. The killer wanted us to discover the body."
"They wanted to show off what they’d done," Alison added as she scanned the photos. This was different from what she remembered of the Riverside Strangler. First of all, the body wasn’t placed by the river, and it wasn’t outdoors either.
Eighteen years ago, the Strangler had left the body, and that was it.
This time, there were photos around the body.
Alison moved closer to the crime scene photos and found that she recognized some of the people who had been left around the dead body, but one photograph shocked her. Alison’s blood turned to ice, and a shiver ran through her body.
"Yeah," Hartley said.
Alison looked at a Polaroid of herself. She was a lot younger in the photo, eighteen years younger to be precise. She also recognized Detective…Vettle and Dr. Carver, along with some others. They were the team that had led the investigation.
Still, something bothered Alison. Although she had given input on the murder, she was included only briefly. The others had been a big part of the investigation, but the Strangler had decided to include her as well.
"The original team from the case," Alison said. "Have you identified all of the people in the photographs?"
"We have," Hartley confirmed. "Eight people associated with the original investigation."
"It doesn’t make sense," Alison wondered out loud. She looked at the photograph from eighteen years ago. She was young, hungry, and naive in many ways. She’d wanted to make a name for herself, but had learned over time that it took time.
Do the job well and often, and you will become respected in your role.
"What doesn’t make sense?" Hartley asked, unconsciously placing a hand on her stomach.
"Why am I included?" Alison asked. "This was the first case I consulted on, but it was over in the blink of an eye. It was nothing more than a training opportunity. Dr. Hitchford isn’t in any of the photos.
He was my mentor back then when I was on placement in Philadelphia.
I don't understand what the killer wants to say with this. "
"Perhaps it’s the same reason why I wanted to call you in," Hartley told her. "I know you weren’t a part of the case, but you did research as if you were. You didn't work the case with everyone else, but you did do the work."
I remember putting in a lot of hours with this one, both before and after I met with the team," Alison admitted. "I wanted to prove myself."
"I’m glad that you did," the special agent admitted. "We’ve been in contact with almost everyone else in the photographs. Detective Vettle was the lead detective on the case, but he’s retired now.
Dr. Carver was the lead profiler, but she no longer consults with the FBI; instead, she works freelance for the Department of Justice. They’re both sending us their files."
"So, I was third on the list?" Alison asked with a wry smile.
"You might have been the third person I called to talk about the case, but you were first on my list," the special agent said, unconsciously placing a hand on her stomach.
"I read your notes on the original case, but I knew you by reputation before that. Word travels far. I want you both for the work you did back then and the work you’ve done over the past couple of years.
If the Riverside Strangler is back, then I want to catch them. "
"If?" Alison asked. "You think it might be a copycat?"
"That’s why I need you here," Hartley admitted. "I don't know. If the Strangler is back now, then why now? And why change the M.O.? It’s almost as if they’re testing us, showing us what they know about the original investigation."
"It does look like that," Alison admitted. "The body is placed face down with the arms spread, just like eighteen years ago. There isn’t any sign that the person was tied up before they were killed, which fits the M.O. of the Strangler. Have they performed the autopsy?"
"They have," the special agent said. "There was a mild sedative in the victim’s system. No sign that they were tied up or forced into the building. The cause of death was strangulation, just as it was with the Strangler. Obviously."
"That’s different," Alison admitted. "The Strangler didn't use a sedative. That’s why it was presumed to be a man back then.
He lured his victims down to the riverside and strangled them with his bare hands.
Back then, they were looking for someone strong enough to overpower each of the three victims. There were never any defensive wounds or signs that they fought back. Why do it inside, though?"
"The Strangler is not as confident as they once were?"
"It’s possible," Alison admitted. "If it is the strangler, he’s older now. Eighteen years can make a long time, I know that firsthand. He got away with it eighteen years ago, and perhaps he’s come out of retirement and wants to taunt us.
He knows we failed to catch him the first time around, and he wants to bask in that.
Or, we’re looking at something completely different.
Someone who wants to recreate the murders from back then for similar reasons.
To highlight the fact that we failed to find the killer. Either way, this person is mocking us."
"There was something else," Hartley said.
"We don't have any clue what it means, but we found some oil on the victim’s skin, as if they had brushed against something, although I don't think so.
It was as if they had rubbed the oil in.
Perhaps they were testing it? If we find the source, perhaps it gives us a clue to where they were before they were killed. "
"What sort of oil was it?" Alison asked.
"Jojoba. It’s often used in skincare, but there weren’t any other oils or anything else on the skin except for a small circle of jojoba. It could mean nothing."
"Where on the body?" Alison asked.
"On the inside of the victim’s left wrist," Hartley told her.
"I think I know exactly what it means," Alison said. "Someone is taunting us."