Deadly Dance (18 page)

“Yeah. Just a little while longer,” Tracy said as the two of them walked into the next room, Drake trailing behind them.

“So what are you doing?” Simon asked, dropping down into the chair Drake had vacated.

“I don’t know for sure,” Hannah said. “I’ve been going over the footage the killer sent to Tina. Something about it bugs me. But I can’t figure out what it is exactly.”

“Want me watch it with you? Maybe I’ll see something you missed.”

“That’d be great,” she said, queueing it up. “It’s toward the end that I start feeling like there’s more.” They sat back, watching as the camera caught the edge of a cutting board against the tiled countertop and then swung forward as the killer grabbed Jasmine, the sounds of their struggle still nauseating even after multiple viewings.

“Okay, now,” Hannah said, nodding at the screen. “Something here.” The sound of Jasmine’s scream was replaced by the yowl of the cat as the camera swung around to face Asha. The animal crouched and then sprang at the camera.

“Wait,” Simon said. “What’s that sound?”

Hannah rewound slightly and then started it again, straining to listen. “A curse, maybe? From the killer?”

“Makes sense.” Simon nodded, still staring at the screen. “Cat gets freaked, takes a flying leap at the unsub, and the guy gets pissed and mouths off.”

“But it’s really hard to understand.” Hannah shook her head, the niggling feeling still there.

“So maybe Harrison can work his magic on it. I know there are programs that can pull out the interference of background noise. All we need is to enhance it. Cut out the cat’s scream and bring up the level of the voice. Seems simple enough. We just need the right equipment.”

Hannah nodded, still considering Simon’s words. The cat had attacked the killer. It was right there on the screen. Suddenly the niggle blossomed.

“Does Asha still have his claws?”

Simon frowned, trying to follow her train of thought. “Definitely, I felt them when I pulled him out of the laundry basket. But I don’t see why…”

“Hang on a minute.” Hannah ran the footage back
again to right before the cat entered the scene. “Tracy said the killer was wearing the camera, right? Giving us his point of view.”

“Yeah.” Simon nodded, his eyes on the screen now, too.

“So when the cat jumps,” Hannah froze the video just as the cat yowled, crouching to pounce, “he’s aiming for something in front of him. Something that’s pissing him off. And if the camera is on the killer then—”

“Then it has to be the killer he’s attacking,” Simon said, comprehension dawning. “And when a cat attacks, it uses its claws.”

“And if Asha drew blood, then we just might have a shot at the killer’s DNA.”

W
e need to talk,” Harrison said, walking into the war room where Hannah was reading a report. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted to say, but he could feel the tension between them growing and he hated the idea of anything—even their own stupidity—coming between them. “I know now isn’t the right time, but with everything happening, I’m not sure there is such a thing. And I really regret what happened last night.”

She sighed, putting the report on the table as she lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not exactly sure ‘regret’ is the word a woman wants to hear from a man she just spent the night with.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Harrison protested, wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth at all. “I suck when it comes to words. I just don’t want what happened to come between us. I value your friendship.”

“And that’s all you want?”

He sucked in a breath, suddenly certain that whatever
he said it was going to be the wrong thing. “Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know. I just know that you’re important to me. Too important to let casual sex fuck it all up.” Fuck being the operative word.

Friends with benefits.

He’d always thought the phrase sounded crass. And now here he was trying to compartmentalize last night’s foray in exactly that way.

“Look, Harrison,” Hannah said with a soft smile. “I don’t regret last night. But that doesn’t mean it’s a ‘big deal’ either. So if you’re worried that I’m reading more into it than I should—I’m not. It was a great night. We both needed to let off steam, and I’d say we accomplished that in spades. But now it’s over. And so everything can go back to normal.”

He searched her face, trying to read between the lines, but she looked just as she always did. Slightly disheveled and wonderfully sexy all at the same time. And despite the fact that they were, for all practical purposes, saying that last night had meant nothing, he felt his body stirring, desire rising. The woman had a way of affecting him like that.

“We’re good?” he asked, tamping down his libido.

“Absolutely.” She nodded, her expression resolute.

“And things can go back to the way they were?” The question came of its own accord, and just for a moment, he thought he saw a shadow cross her face.

“Stop worrying, Harrison. Nothing’s changed,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand, their gazes locking, the pheromones surging between them negating their attempts at denial.

“Hannah, I…”

“You were right,” Drake said, bursting into the room completely oblivious of the rising tension. “There was blood and skin residue on the cat’s front claws. Good catch, Hannah.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling her hand free and turning to Drake, the moment between them evaporating as quickly as it had come. “So did it tell us anything?”

“Nothing yet.” Drake shook his head. “Tracy’s working to extract the DNA. And then we’ll have to run it against existing databases to see if we get a hit. But right now it’s our best shot.”

“Yes, but we’re not going to get the information soon enough to help Jasmine Washington. No matter how you look at it, her time’s running out.” Simon walked into the war room, radiating frustration. Avery followed on his heels, talking with Tracy.

“Or it already has,” Drake said, his tone matter-of-fact, but his face reflecting the harsh reality of the situation.

“All the more reason to nail this bastard,” Avery said as the team found seats around the table.

“Where’s Madison?” Simon asked, his gaze encompassing the group.

“She got called back to Quantico,” Avery responded. “Her team’s working on a case in Portland. And they need her there. But she promised to stay connected via cellphone and email. And we’ve still got Tracy.” He shot a smile in her direction. “So we’re in good hands.”

“Well, I don’t know that I’m on the same level as Madison when it comes to predicting behavior, but I’ve got my talents. I managed to extract the DNA from the blood sample you gave me. And it definitely isn’t a match to Jasmine Washington. Which means it’s most likely
from the unsub. I’m running it against the FBI databases now.”

“If you’ll send me the details, I can run it against CIA records as well,” Hannah said, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “And I can also cross-check it against Homeland Security’s databases. I realize it’s not as likely that we’ll get a hit, but you never know.”

“The more places we search, the better,” Avery agreed. “I’ll also forward the info to the local police. It’s important that we keep them in the loop. And you never know, maybe they’ve got a local we missed when we did our search. There are definitely aspects of Sara’s murder that don’t fit the profile of a sexual predator.”

“I’m not following.” Simon frowned, shaking his head.

“Just that there’s a detachment about the way she was killed. Even the rape. It’s almost as if the killer is just going through the motions,” Tracy said.

“Yeah, well the end result is the same. Sara’s dead. And Jasmine Washington is next on the list.” Drake leaned forward, anger coloring his words.

“I’m just trying to point out that our unsub may not be a sexual offender. And least not in the usual sense.”

“Well, maybe we’ll get something from the public,” Avery said. “Madison did a press conference before she left, releasing selected parts of the profile and warning everyone in the area that we’ve got a dangerous man on the loose. Who knows, maybe the information she shared will trigger a memory with someone and they’ll call it in. How’s Tina holding up?”

Hannah shook her head, her face lined with worry. “Not good. Not that it’s surprising. She and Jasmine were really close. But she’s hanging in there. And she’s got
guards 24/7 so at least she’s safe. Oh, and she confirmed that the knife set in her kitchen was complete. Which means Simon’s right, and there’s a knife missing.”

“Maybe he used it to get Jasmine to cooperate,” Harrison suggested. “Nothing like a knife to the neck to get someone moving.”

“Yes, but again it doesn’t fit with our initial profile. And certainly not with the original cyber killer. Taking a knife from the scene is sloppy.” Tracy frowned, jotting something down on a legal pad. “This guy is just full of contradictions. Maybe it’s just because we have so little to go on. But it’s really making me uneasy.”

“Like there’s something else going on, and we’re missing it,” Avery agreed. “Harrison, have you and Simon been able to isolate the voice from the video at Tina’s house?”

“We did.” Harrison nodded, exchanging a glance with Simon. “And Madison ran it against the FBI’s database using voice recognition software. But there weren’t any hits.”

“Maybe we should broaden the search,” Drake suggested. “The CIA has voice databases, too, right?”

“They do,” Hannah confirmed. “And if you’ll send me the file, Harrison, I’ll get it to Langley.” She didn’t actually look at him, and he worried that somehow his attempt to discuss things had only made it worse between them. Understanding women was just too damn difficult.

“All right then, between the DNA and the voiceprint, we’ve got a good shot at identifying this guy, but in the meantime we need to concentrate on finding Jasmine. Where are we with the mpeg?” Avery asked.

“Madison and I have been over it numerous times,”
Harrison said, running a hand through his hair. “And I’ve still got nothing. Last time, he left us a clearly visible clue with the view of the lake. But there’s nothing identifiable here. I even had Drake look at it. He’s lived here longer. I thought maybe he’d see something I didn’t. But there’s nothing.”

“Which doesn’t make sense,” Tracy said. “This guy wants us to find him. It’s probably the most important part of his fantasy. I know we’ve said it before, but he needs the validation.”

“So why the hell is he making this so difficult?” Harrison asked, the question for no one in particular. They all knew it was probably too late, but that didn’t change the feeling of urgency.

“Maybe we’re coming at this the wrong way,” Hannah said, pushing a strand of purple-streaked hair out of her face. “What if this isn’t about what we can see?”

“Come again?” Drake asked, leaning forward, brow furrowed.

“Well, the first video was all about what we could see, right? And the second one was shot from the killer’s point of view to a degree that meant it was impossible to get a big picture of what was happening. In fact, it might not have been comprehensible at all, except that there was a difference.”

“Sound,” Harrison said, already pulling the video back up onto the computer. “The second video had sound.”

“And so did the third,” Avery concluded. “So maybe the clue is in the audio.”

“It’s certainly worth a try.” Harrison hit play and sat back as the video was projected onto the screen above the war room conference table.

The feed was still horrifying. The screaming seemed to drown out almost everything else, and as much as Harrison wanted to adjust the sound to screen it out, his hand refused to move, his mind instead superimposing the images of Jasmine with his sister, the memories threatening to overwhelm him.

“It’s all right,” Hannah said, materializing beside him, her breath warm against his neck as she reached across to freeze the video. “I can handle this. You don’t have to do it.”

He closed his eyes for a second, summoning all of his strength. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.” He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but it was all he could do to squeeze out the words.

“Harrison,” Avery began, his deep voice laced with concern.

“I said I’m fine.” He pulled free of Hannah, concentrating on the program’s controls. “I need to do this myself.” With a sharp exhalation, he adjusted the feed so that the scream was replaced by the ambient background noises.

Simon leaned forward, listening. Drake was still watching Harrison, his eyes concerned. But at Harrison’s nod, he dropped his gaze, instead joining the others as they listened for something—anything—that might give a hint to the location.

At first there was nothing but the creak of floorboards and the soft intake of the killer’s breathing. Then, from farther away, another noise filtered through the scene.

“Wait—” Hannah said, pushing her glasses up as she stared up at the screen. She was sitting beside him now, her fingers splayed on the table as she strained to hear. “There. What’s that? It’s metallic, right?”

“A clanging,” Tracy agreed.

The noise swelled, then faded, the sickening “thwick” of the killer’s knife taking precedence.