So Alone, page 4
She managed a brief smile. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he said, “I never understood that social convention anyway. I’m not doing you a favor by expressing sorrow. Sorrow is a natural reaction to the loss of life.”
Faith had known far too many who felt the exact opposite of sorrow at the loss of life, but she only smiled and nodded in return.
“Well,” he said, “I had a different plan for this session, but in light of recent events, I think we should dispense with that and focus on the pain you’re feeling now. Is that all right with you?”
Faith nodded. She had come to trust Dr. West and value his advice. He was every bit as pedantic and, in many ways, just as annoying as she imagined a psychologist would be, but he was also genuinely concerned for her mental health, and she believed that he truly wanted her to heal.
“Good,” he said, then added, “Another word that truly has no place in this conversation.” He shook his head sympathetically and said, “Tell me how you feel, Faith.”
Faith didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t nail down exactly what she felt. She felt a lot of things at once, none of them good. She finally decided to just say what was on her mind without trying to organize it.
“I feel angry,” she said, “angry at the copycat killer for taking Gordon. Angry at myself for not being there to protect him—yes, I know it’s not my fault, but I still feel that way. Angry at the Boss for taking me off the case—”
“He took you off the case?” Dr. West interrupted. “Really.”
Faith nodded. “Yes. He feels that I’m too emotionally compromised after seeing the body.”
“You saw Gordon’s body?” Dr. West interrupted again. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes wide with amazement. “Were you the one to discover him?”
Faith nodded, a lump forming in her throat.
“Oh my,” Dr. West said, leaning back in his chair again. “That must have been horrible for you.”
“Yes,” Faith agreed, blinking back tears. “Yes, it was.”
“So the Boss feel you’re too emotionally compromised to handle this case? That’s interesting. What leads him to feel that way?”
She shrugged. “He thinks we’re all too close to it now. He thinks that part of the reason we’ve been unsuccessful in catching him is that we’re all too invested in it now. We've started taking it personally, and that's why Gordon and Desrouleaux never caught him and why Desrouleaux and Chavez still haven't. And, of course, with Gordon murdered, we're all upset and not thinking straight."
“Do you believe you’re not thinking straight?”
Faith shook her head. She had given that a lot of thought over the past few days. “No, I’m thinking clearly,” she said. “I’m angry, and I’m hurt, and I’m sad that Gordon is dead, but I’m thinking clearly. I can see now that this killer has been obsessed with me this entire time.”
Dr. West had reached for his water bottle while she answered. He paused with it halfway to his lips when she said that. “You believe he’s obsessed with you?”
Faith nodded. “It makes sense. The Donkey Killer—the original one—he very nearly killed me, but in the end, Michael saved me.”
Dr. West seemed shocked by that. “Michael?”
“Yes, Special Agent Prince. He stopped the Donkey Killer just before the Donkey Killer could make the final—before he could kill me. I think the Copycat Killer sees me as unfinished business. These other killings—they matter, but I think the point is to try to goad me into making the same mistake I made with the first Donkey Killer so he can get me alone and finish the job he started.”
“Michael Prince shot Jethro Trammell,” Dr. West mused.
Faith frowned. “Yes. Have I never told you that before?”
Dr. West had a faraway look in his eyes as he shook his head. “No, you haven’t.” He inhaled and refocused on Faith. “I apologize. That isn’t related to what we’re talking about. It’s just a surprising detail. So you think he’s trying to get to you, and that motivates all of his crimes? Please forgive me, Faith, but that does sound a little paranoid.”
“I know,” Faith said, “but he left a note with Gordon’s body that was clearly directed to me.”
Dr. West leaned forward again, his eyes bright with something that looked almost like excitement. “A note?”
“Yes.”
She told him about the note, focusing on the use of her name and the allusions to Michael and David. When she finished, she said, “I really think he sees killing me as a sign that he’s surpassed his idol. If he can kill the one that got away, so to speak, then he will be proven to be a better serial killer than the original Donkey Killer. I think that’s his ultimate goal.”
“Hmm,” Doctor West said,
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“You don’t believe me,” Faith said.
Dr. West took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Well,” he said, “I don’t disbelieve you. It’s certainly common for serial killers to fixate on a particular individual. It’s even common for serial killers to kill people around the focus of their fixation and save the target of their obsession for last. Sometimes they don’t even kill their obsession at all.”
Faith nodded, a little impatient. She knew all about profiling, and she didn’t particularly want to have a philosophical discussion on serial killers in general right now. “But it’s all a moot point anyway,” she said. “I’m off the case.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you?”
What he was really asking was if she would abide by the Boss’s decision to remove her from the case or if she would take matters into her own hands again.
She had no intention of staying off of the copycat case, but she didn’t think it was a good idea for her to tell the psychologist assigned to her by the Boss himself what she intended. Doctor-patient confidentiality was respected in the FBI, but that wouldn’t prevent Dr. West from signing an order to have her removed from the field.
“Yes,” she said. “I tried going cowboy once, and it didn’t help anybody. I’ll share my thoughts on the case with the New York office—” a lie but one she was confident Dr. West wouldn’t follow up on “—and I’ll focus on taking care of myself and my loved ones.”
“That’s a very wise and mature attitude to have, Faith,” Dr. West replied with an encouraging smile. “So now that I know you’re not going to do anything… inadvisable… we can turn to the subject of how to heal. What do—”
Before he could finish his question, Faith’s phone buzzed. It was the Boss.
She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what this call was. She answered reluctantly. “Yes?”
“Bold, get your ass over here. You have a case.”
And just like that, all of Faith’s plans crumbled to dust.
CHAPTER THREE
Turk barked for attention, and Michael reached down and ruffled his fur. "Hey, buddy," he said. "How's Mama? She stays out of trouble, or is she lying to me again?"
“Hey,” Faith retorted, “When have I ever lied to you?”
“Not enough time in the day to answer that question,” Michael quipped, straightening.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“I’m all right,” she said, “I’m guessing the Boss is just trying to keep me occupied so I don’t do anything stupid.”
Michael shrugged. “Can you blame him?”
Faith sighed. “No, I guess not.”
She thought the Boss might be willing to give her a little extra time off, maybe the two weeks she needed to find and stop the Copycat Killer, but it looked like that wasn’t going to be the case. She could pretend that she was grieving and ask to be taken off of this case, but the Boss was almost certainly too suspicious to fall for that, especially after Faith’s past history where this case was concerned.
“Come on,” Michael said to Faith’s sour frown. “This’ll be good for you. Better than stewing at home all day.”
“I agree,” Faith said, not because she actually did agree, but because she was glad to have Michael out of harm’s way. Michael was a great detective, but he was a straightforward detective. He liked to follow breadcrumbs to logical conclusions. That worked a lot of the time, most of the time, even, but that didn’t work for a killer like the Copycat Killer. The Copycat Killer would—and Faith believed had—left false breadcrumbs to throw detectives like Clark and Desrouleaux off of the case. Clark and Desrouleaux were both like Michael, straightforward, logical thinkers. It would be easy for the Copycat Killer to lure Michael into a situation where he could get killed.
..
They walked into the Boss’s office and were met with his typical sour frown. He nodded curtly at Faith, the closest she imagined he would come to acknowledging either of their grief.
They sat in the two chairs in front of the desk, and the Boss got straight to the point. "Goldwood, Arizona,” he said. “A little town right on the border with California. Two dead so far. Torn apart by dogs.”
Turk cocked his ears at that. Faith whistled. Michael swore. “Christ, we never get the simple ones, do we?”
“You want simple cases, go work for the police,” the Boss retorted. “We do adult work here.”
Faith suppressed a chuckle. Michael replied drily, “Glad to see you’re your normal cheerful self again.”
The Boss ignored him and said, “The first victim was killed hiking in a nature park just outside of town. The second was killed in an abandoned storage yard. The first victim looks like he never saw it coming. The second one definitely did. Defensive wounds on her arms and hands.”
“Jesus,” Michael said. “What a terrible way to go.”
“You said two victims, sir?” Faith asked.
“Yes,” the Boss confirmed. “Two victims.”
“Forgive me, sir, but isn’t the cutoff for FBI involvement three victims? And… well, are we sure these were murders? Coyotes could have killed the victim in the nature park, and guard dogs could have killed the victim at the construction yard. The company who owned the yard would be responsible for the death at the construction yard, but that would be a civil case, not a criminal one.”
“The cutoff for mandatory FBI involvement is three victims,” the Boss corrected. “You two have taken cases with fewer victims before, at least at the start of the case.” Faith’s lips thinned at the veiled insinuation as the Boss continued. “As far as if we’re sure it’s murder, it definitely wasn’t coyotes at the nature park and that lot has been vacant for years.”
“Still, sir,” Faith protested, “it seems like a leap to assume it’s murder. Unless there’s evidence we’re missing.”
“Well, the good news, Special Agent, is that you are highly qualified to find that missing evidence.”
Faith decided to avoid further protest. “What do we know about the victims?”
“First victim is Gerald Conway, 57. I liked to hike in the Sonora Nature Park. His body was found three days ago being picked apart by vultures.” Michael shuddered. “He was identified by his wedding ring.”
“Jesus,” Michael said softly. “I’m guessing not much evidence there.”
“Well, we know it was dogs and not coyotes,” the Boss replied. “Hopefully CSI in Goldwood will have more to tell you when you two arrive. The second victim might leave a little more for you to work with. Gigi Demetrious, 44. She was found last night.”
Faith’s skin crawled. Gigi had died—been torn apart, in fact—while she was in bed with David after trying to convince him to take steps to avoid the very same fate.
“Do the police have any leads?” Faith asked.
“No,” the Boss replied. “It seems these attacks were unprovoked, but there are no packs of feral dogs in the area, and a police search hasn’t turned any up.”
Now, it was beginning to sound like murder. It still wasn't nearly enough to justify FBI intervention, though. The Boss was clearly just looking for an excuse to get Faith away from the Copycat Killer case. By the time she returned, the case would be firmly in the hands of the New York field office. That wouldn’t stop her from doing some investigating of her own, but for now, the better part of valor was patience. She would take this case and allow the Boss to believe he had been successful in circumventing her involvement.
“When do we fly?”
As expected, the Boss’s answer was, “Today. Your plane leaves in two hours. Pack warm clothing. Goldwood’s hotter than Purgatory this time of year.”
“I thought Purgatory was cold,” Michael replied.
The Boss ignored the jibe, and Michael shrugged and followed Faith and Turk out of the office. When they were out of the building, Michael asked Faith, “Do you get the sense he’s just trying to make work for us?”
“That’s exactly what he’s doing,” Faith agreed, “but we saw this coming.”
“I saw it coming for you,” Michael countered. “Not me.”
“Ouch,” Faith replied drily. “Well, you’re my partner, so until you put in a request to change that, you have to suffer the consequences of my poor decisions.”
“Relax, Faith,” he replied. “I’m just grouching. You know I’ll do that anyway.”
“I know,” Faith says, “Sometimes I think the Boss doesn’t like you because you remind him of himself.”
Michael glared at Faith as he pulled his cell phone and dialed a number. A moment later, he said, “Hey, Ellie. Sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight. Yeah, there’s a case.” He glanced at Turk. “I’ll tell you later.”
Ellie! Faith had forgotten about Ellie! Dammit, if the copycat killer knew about Michael, then he knew about Ellie too. If she was alone in her house, she would be vulnerable, and he could use that advantage to strike a blow at Michael.
“I know, I know,” Michael said, continuing his phone conversation. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home, okay? Love you.”
He hung up, and Faith immediately said, “Michael, we can’t leave Ellie by herself!”
He frowned. “What? Why?”
“Because the killer threatened her.”
He blinked in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
“In the note. He threatened to kill you and David.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Michael replied, “and anyway, Ellie’s not me or David.”
“Yes, but she’s close to you,” Faith countered, “and if he wants to get to you, hurting the person you love while you’re gone is a perfect way to throw you off of your game. He could use that to lure you into a position of vulnerability.” She considered something and added, “He might not even try to kill you. He might be satisfied just hurting you and taking your focus off of me for a little while.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Faith,” Michael said with just a touch of irritation, “but my focus is already off of you.”
“I don’t mean your romantic focus,” Faith said irritably. “I mean your attention. You’re not glued to me twenty-four-seven, but having you in my life as someone I can rely on is important to me. He might be trying to sabotage that. He might plan to kill you, but if you leave him an easier target that will accomplish the same goal, he might settle for that instead.”
Michael pursed his lips. Faith braced herself for the irritating, condescending dismissal she was about to hear and reminded herself to remain calm.
“Faith, I’m not trying to diminish the way you feel,” he said, “but you need to take a step back from your emotions and look at this situation logically. The copycat killer has been active for two years. In that time, he’s not killed anyone close to you.”
“Gordon was close to me.”
“Gordon was the lead agent on his case for two years. He had a target on his back, a legitimate one. You may have had a target on your back when you were moonlighting on the case, but you haven’t worked his case in months. It’s very doubtful that he would consider you a threat to him. Besides, how do you know for sure that Gordon’s killer is the copycat?”
Faith stared incredulously at him. “Are you serious? Did you not read the note?”
“Faith, I could have written that note. You could have written that note. All of Philadelphia and half of the rest of the country could have written that note. Everyone knows who the Copycat Killer is. Anyone could have used his name.”
“So you think someone randomly decided to use the Copycat Killer's name and what just happened to make several lucky guesses about my personal life?"
“I think that a killer with a vendetta against the FBI killed an agent and threatened at least one, maybe two more. I think that this killer knew that the Copycat Killer is a thorn in the side of this field office and used the name to either throw us off the scent or taunt us. Probably both. I don’t think that the real Copycat Killer would have completely tossed his MO out the window. If it was the Copycat Killer, he would have kidnapped Gordon and treated him the way the Donkey Killer treated you. That would have sent a far more powerful message than a note.”
Faith could spend all afternoon listing the reasons why Michael was wrong, but she didn’t want to waste time debating. “Michael, we can have a heart-to-heart about this later, but please, as your friend, consider sending your girlfriend somewhere safe.”
“Faith, nowhere’s safe,” Michael replied. “People get murdered every day. There’s no magical land where murder doesn’t exist, and everyone lives in peace and harmony. When I took this job, I accepted the risks to myself and to my loved ones.”
His shoulders slumped and his eyes took on a haunted look when he said that. She hated seeing him like this, but she didn’t have any more time to deal with his trauma than she did to debate. “Some places are safer than others right now, Michael. David’s visiting his parents in Nevada right now. You, Turk, and I will be in Arizona. Ellie’s the last link, the last person that note threatens. If she’s gone, then the killer won’t chase her. This is his territory. He’ll wait for us to come back, and with you protecting Ellie and Turk protecting me, he’s far less likely to move on us.”
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