Deadly Dance (11 page)

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Hannah said. “I just came to check on you. I wanted to be sure you were okay with all of this.”

Tina grimaced. “I don’t know that I have much of a choice. But under the circumstances, I do feel safer here than I would at my place.” Tina lived by herself in a rental house off-campus. Yet another reason why it had seemed safer to put her here, rather than send Reid and company out there.

“Well, I’m sorry you have to go through any of this. But until we figure out your connection with the killer, it’s just better if someone keeps watch. And it’s easier to do it here.”

Jasmine leaned back in her chair, frowning. Tall and lanky, she had the natural grace of an athlete. “I still can’t believe any of this is happening. I mean the idea that some crazy asshole is out there stalking students just feels so surreal.”

“I know it’s scary. But the truth is that we don’t know for sure that he’s stalking anyone. It’s possible that this thing with Sara was a one-off.”

“But you don’t think that’s true.” Jasmine’s eyes narrowed as she studied Hannah’s face.

“No,” Hannah shook her head, figuring that under the circumstances at least that much honesty was warranted. “But it is possible that now that the murder’s gone public, he’ll avoid the campus. I mean, he’s bound to know there will be heightened security.”

“Great, so now he’ll turn to the women in town.” Jasmine shuddered at the thought.

“I’m sure the police department is working closely with the FBI on this one,” Hannah assured her. The
police had actually been brought up to speed by one of the men from Langley, but it was only semantics.

“So why didn’t they just send me home?” Tina asked. “I mean that’s what everyone else is doing.”

“Not everyone,” Hannah said with a sigh. “You wouldn’t believe how many students are staying put.” In point of fact, it seemed that most everyone was staying, which only meant a bigger headache for A-Tac as the team tried to maintain security on campus.

“I guess they’re just trying not to give in to their fears,” Tina said, reaching out to gather the cards. “I mean, we can’t let this guy run our lives, right?”

“Yes, but we do need to exercise caution,” Hannah warned. “Which is why you’re here. Until this is over, you need protection.”

“Well, I’ve certainly got that,” Tina said with a sigh. “I mean, the guy outside has a gun. And he doesn’t look like he’d hesitate to use it. Which probably makes me the safest person in town.”

“As long as you stay put.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. At least until next Friday.”

“What happens next Friday?” Hannah asked.

“Matchbox Twenty is playing at the Garden. Roger scored tickets—on the floor.” Roger Jameson was Tina’s boyfriend, a recent Sunderland alum who worked in Manhattan. “It’s going to be awesome. I can’t wait.” Her fear forgotten for the moment, Tina jumped to her feet, excitement bringing color to her cheeks.

“I’d kill to see them in concert,” Jasmine said, her enthusiasm matching Tina’s. “I’ve got like fifteen of their songs on my iPhone.”

“I will be able to go, right?” Tina turned to Hannah, her eyes pleading.

“I can’t promise anything,” Hannah said. “It’s up to the FBI. But if it looks like it’s going to be a problem, maybe I can talk to them.”

“That’d be great. It’s super important that I go. We’ve been planning it forever. Which reminds me. I need to call and let him know that I’m all right. I’m sure he’s been worried sick. Only you’ve still got my phone.”

“I know.” Hannah nodded. “That’s actually one of the reasons I came over here. I wanted to return it. But you need to limit usage.”

Tina folded her arms, her eyes turning mutinous, but before she could speak, Hannah cut her off.

“I’m not saying you can’t use it at all,” she said, reaching into her pocket to produce the phone. “You just need to be cautious. No Internet browsing and no email to anyone you don’t know.”

“What about social networks?”

“Better to stay off of them. Look, we don’t know how this guy found you. And until we figure that out, you need to limit your exposure.”

“But I can call people?”

“Yes, but even with that, you need to be careful. If you want pizza delivered or something, Reid can do it for you.”

“This is all just a little too much,” Tina said. “I mean this morning the only real concern I had was whether I’d have enough time to finish grading papers. And now I’m here in the middle of what’s starting to feel like my own personal episode of
Criminal Minds
.”

“Now if only the guy outside will morph into Morgan,” Jasmine said, her gaze shooting to the door.

“Who?” Hannah asked, shaking her head. Truth was, she never had time to watch TV.

“You know, the hot guy,” Jasmine and Tina said, almost in unison, and Hannah smiled, happy that they’d found something to lighten the mood.

“Well, on that note, I think maybe I’ll leave you to your fantasies.” Hannah reached out to give Tina a hug. “Call me if you need me. I’ll just be a phone call away.”

Tina nodded. “Thanks. It’s nice to know you’re in my corner.”

“Yeah, well, I’m thinking even better to have him on your side.” Hannah tipped her head toward the door and the man outside. “Stay safe. Jasmine, are you staying?”

“For a little while longer.” Jasmine lifted the deck of cards. “I’ve still got to prove that I can win a game.”

“All right, but be sure to ask Reid for a security escort when you leave.” The cell in her pocket began to ring, but she waited for Jasmine to nod her agreement before answering. “Hello?”

“Hannah. Good, I’m glad I caught you.” Harrison’s voice filled her ear. Speaking of hot guys and fantasies. “I need you to get over here as quickly as you can.” All levity vanished at the tone in his voice.

“What’s up?”

“We found Sara’s book bag,” Harrison said, “and her computer.”

“So where did you find it?” Hannah asked as she walked into the A-Tac computer room.

“It was in the bushes between the Union and Varsley Hall,” Harrison said, looking up from the laptop.

Hannah as always looked somewhere between hip
and disheveled, her hair going in crazy directions, the word bedhead taking on a whole new meaning. His eyes drifted downward to the soft curves of her body and he wondered when he’d moved from thinking of Hannah as a friend to thinking of her as someone he wanted to get between the sheets. Maybe it was the night on the roof with her skirt slit to her ass and her eyes flashing fire as she crossed the ladder to escape the Consortium shooters.

All he knew was that he wanted her in the worst way and that his timing sucked.

Drake, who was reading through the preliminary coroner’s report, glanced up at the two of them. Harrison mumbled a curse and forced his attention back to the computer.

“So have you found anything?” Hannah asked, dropping into the chair next to his. Hell, he could feel the heat of her body, smell the scent of her shampoo. It took every ounce of determination he could muster to keep from reaching out to touch her.

Son of a bitch.

“Nothing yet,” he said, shaking his head to clear his mind. “I’ve been through her emails, and there wasn’t anything to indicate she’d had any contact with the killer. And nothing to point us toward someone she knew. I’m going through her files now.”

“So what have you got?” Hannah asked Drake, fortunately oblivious to the turn of Harrison’s thoughts.

“ME’s report,” Drake said. “So far no surprises. The blood they found in the house was Sara’s. Which we already knew. There’s evidence of sexual assault, but no semen.”

“So this was an act of rage,” Hannah said.

“Or he used a condom.” Drake shrugged.

“Did they establish time of death?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked at her over the top of the file, his expression grim. “About six hours before we got there. She was probably already dead when your TA got the video.”

“So we were right, she never had a chance,” Hannah said.

“Doesn’t look like it, no.”

“This is all just so unbelievable.” Hannah ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, we deal with some pretty awful people on a rather regular basis. But nothing like this. Nothing so pointed. A terrorist wants maximum damage. Biggest bang for the buck. And the loss of life is awful. But this is more than that. This is someone who thrives on death and fear. I can’t even imagine what the last hours of Sara’s life must have been like.”

“You can’t let yourself go there,” Harrison said. “It’s too easy to get sucked into the horror. You have to divorce yourself from the reality of the acts. Keep your mind separated from your emotions.”

“Good luck with that,” Drake said. “I’ve been looking at these pictures for over an hour now, and my stomach is still churning. And I’ve seen a hell of a lot in my time with A-Tac. But Hannah’s right—nothing like this. I don’t see how you did it, bro.”

“I didn’t do it for that long. And most of the time I spent in the unit was on the computer, not in the field.”

“So I’m guessing there was nothing at the scene to give us a lead on identifying the killer?”

“Nothing concrete,” Drake said. “No prints. No DNA. Nothing to tie the scene to anyone but Sara. Most of
the action seems to have taken place in the upstairs bedroom.”

“So why the change in location?” Hannah asked, chewing the side of her lip as she considered the question. “I mean, the place was deserted. So what reason is there to move her?”

“I’m betting that it’s got to do with the ritual,” Harrison said.

“I’m not following.” Hannah shook her head with a frown.

“Every serial killer develops a ritual. A set plan of action guaranteed to get his rocks off. In this case, it appears that the first act of his fantasy plays out in the bedroom, with the finale in the cellar.”

“That fits the facts,” Drake said. “The sexual acts and the killing appeared to have occurred in the bedroom. So she was already dead or dying when she was taken downstairs where he finished her off.”

“And you’ve got nothing there to give us a clue as to who it might have been?” Hannah asked, turning back to Harrison.

“Not so far. I’ve authenticated all the files. There’s nothing here that jumps off the page or seems out of place. Just the kinds of files you’d expect to find on a college kid’s computer.”

“What about Facebook or other social networking sites?” Hannah suggested. “Didn’t Tony give us the info we need to get into her accounts?”

“He did, and I’ve already searched there. Even before we found the computer. And again, there was nothing out of the ordinary. She had a Twitter account, but didn’t really use it. And her Facebook page was limited
to friends, which seems to have included pretty much everyone on campus. But as Facebook pages go, this one is pretty tame. There’s nothing that would seem to have been a hook for a killer.”

“Hell, for all we know, this was just random,” Drake said. “Right place, wrong time.”

“It’s possible. But this guy is already pretty far into building the fantasy,” Harrison said. “Which means this most likely isn’t his first time at the party. And we can’t ignore the parallel to the cyber killer. I’m hoping that when Madison and Tracy arrive they’ll have some insight.”

“So when are they getting here?” Drake asked.

Drake didn’t mention his sister, and Harrison was grateful for the reprieve. He’d told Avery everything. And Avery in turn had told the team.

“They’ll be here in the morning. Tracy’s flying in from Texas, and Madison’s coming in from D.C. She’s actually working another case right now, so she won’t have a lot of time, but I faxed her everything we’ve got so she’ll already be up to speed when she gets here. She’s a hell of a profiler. And when you combine that with Tracy’s forensic expertise, hopefully, we’ll know a lot more by tomorrow night.”

“And in the meantime, we’ve just got to hold the fort,” Drake said.

“And pray that he doesn’t take someone else,” Hannah added, her attention on the computer screen. “What about erased emails? Is there any way to retrieve them? Maybe there’s a clue in something she got rid of.”

“Already ahead of you,” Harrison nodded. “I contacted her Internet provider and they downloaded everything
they had on their server. They refresh fairly frequently, so there’s not too much. And what was there was innocuous.”

“What about IMing?” she asked, leaning closer as she studied the screen. “I see a link to AIM on her desktop.”

“There’s nothing there either. Apparently she didn’t use it all that much. Same goes for her Skype account. And when I searched her Internet history, I didn’t see anything to indicate she’d been involved in online chats or stumbled onto a website she should have avoided. Basically, there’s no record of her doing anything online that might set her up to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“So we’re back to random,” Drake said.

“Or maybe he’s been watching her. Physical stalking rather than cyber. Although I’d have thought that considering his use of the Internet to send out a record of his act, he’d have been more inclined to use cyberspace to find his prey.”

“Yeah, but if he’s as good as we think he is,” Harrison said, “he wouldn’t do anything that might leave a trail. It’s pretty easy to hack into Facebook or other social media accounts. One thing she did do was post a lot of pictures. So maybe our guy just liked the way she looked. There’s usually something specific that draws these guys to their prey.”