Profile of Fear: Book Four of the Profile Series (Volume 4) (4 page)

She’d hadn’t seen Cameron since they worked together the year before. What was work-related quickly turned personal when he captured her mouth in a delicious kiss that made her head spin. He’d kissed her with his entire body, hard and so hot she thought her bones would melt. Soon, despite her reservations, she was kissing him right back, pulling him closer so she could feel his powerful body pressed against her.

When the kiss ended, Cameron told her that he was worth the risk, and she was jolted back to reality. The risk was great, and Robynn had too much to lose. She’d worked hard to climb the ranks with the Indiana State Police, and she couldn’t jeopardize her career by getting involved with another law enforcement officer. It was different for female officers. The gossip about their relationship could derail her effectiveness in supervising the men on her team; she needed to collaborate as an equal to get her job done.

Could she afford to invest herself in feelings that would only lead to career disaster? Robynn did not want to jeopardize her job. As a single parent, her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Ellie, depended on her for financial support.

It had taken all the strength she had to push Cameron away and run to her car, ignoring his pleas for her to come back. In the weeks to follow, she’d ignored his calls, deleted his voice mails, and avoided him at meetings, but she hadn’t forgotten him and the way he made her feel.

And how she was going to handle this meeting with him, and keep things professional, was anyone’s guess.

The waiter led her to a private table toward the back of the room where relatively few diners sat. She hoped none of them would overhear their appetite-destroying discussion of autopsies and murders.

Soon she saw Cameron Chase enter the restaurant wearing snug jeans, a navy blazer, and a white silk T-shirt that fit his athletic body like a second skin. Usually clean-shaven, a few days growth darkened his sculpted jaw. With dark brown hair and eyes the color of espresso, he had a face that was blatantly masculine and too handsome for his own good. A spike of heat caught low in her gut. A pang of longing shot through her like a bullet. Though hard to admit, she missed being kissed and touched and held in a man’s strong arms. And no man had affected her like Cameron Chase.

Conscious that she was staring, she dragged her gaze back to his face as he reached her table and met his knowing glance. It was as if he could read her mind. She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Robynn renewed her determination not to let him see a chink in her reinforced wall.

Chapter Seven

Cameron’s first thought when he entered Giovanni’s Italian restaurant was that it was quite a romantic place for a business meeting. Should he be encouraged that Robynn Burton had chosen this place?

Across the restaurant, he noticed her sitting at a table in the back. She usually wore her dark hair tied away from her face in a French braid. Tonight, she wore her hair down, a tangle of glossy hair spilling over her shoulders like a cloud of dark silk.

Average wasn’t a word that could ever be used to describe Robynn. She had a face that was a delicate sculpture of high cheekbones with full sensuous lips, and a body that pushed all his buttons in a very big way. Not that he planned to act on any of those feelings tonight. There was a line between pursuing a woman and stalking her, so he willed himself to back off. Certainly that was her message, loud and clear, when she’d ignored his calls and voice mails. If she wanted to discuss their cases, that’s what they’d do and he’d control himself, no matter how hard that would be. However, the way her eyes were undressing him as he moved toward her just might suggest she had other ideas. A guy could hope.

Reaching the table, Cameron pulled out the chair across from Robynn and sat down. “Good to see you, Robynn. Nice place.” He couldn’t help but notice she was blushing, and a smile slowly tipped up one corner of his mouth.

When the waiter placed menus before them, Cameron glanced at Robynn. “So what’s good here?”

“I don’t know. This is my first visit.”

That response might explain the romantic atmosphere. She hadn’t known about it.

The waiter returned and they each ordered an Alfredo dish with sautéed shrimp on angel hair pasta, and a glass of wine since they were both off-duty.

They quietly sipped their wine until Cameron broke the silence. “I’m sorry about Alex Easton. I know he was one of your detectives. Tough break.” Instantly, he regretted bringing it up because Robynn’s eyes filled with pain.

“He will be missed.” Quickly changing the subject, she said, “My boss—”

“Patrick Lair, right? Former basketball player.”

“Yes, Lt. Lair noticed some similarities in your Brandy Murphy murder case to our Shirley Metz murder. He asked that we compare notes to see if the women could have been murdered by the same killer.”

“What similarities are you talking about?”

“Both women were young and went missing without a trace. Metz had been missing a year when she was found.”

“Murphy was only sixteen-years-old and had been missing six months when we found her body wrapped in garbage bags and dumped behind the mall like trash. We’d tried like hell to find her, but it was as if she walked off the face of the earth. No clues except a grainy surveillance tape the night she was abducted.”

“There was a surveillance tape?”

Cameron nodded. “Murphy was last seen at Sycamore Mall getting into a newer model black Escalade with tinted windows. We couldn’t identify the man with her. A dark hoodie covered his face. No hits on the car either. My theory is that the guy made Murphy a tempting offer she couldn’t refuse. She wasn’t the kind of girl to go off with a stranger. Not without good reason.”

Robynn captured the information on her notepad. “According to her family, Shirley Metz was twenty-one, but she wouldn’t have left without telling her parents where she would be. She had a nine-month-old baby, a job, and a life she wouldn’t walk away from. She worked as a hairdresser at Sycamore Mall. They’re convinced she was abducted. I’m inclined to agree with them, but there’s no evidence to support the notion.”

Their food arrived and they made small talk while they ate, each carefully avoiding topics that were personal. Once the waiter cleared their table, Cameron asked, “Tell me more about your victim. What was she doing the night she disappeared?”

“Her parents said she’d met two girlfriends at a local bar in Hillsboro about a mile from their house. Not unusual. Shirley meets these women for drinks on a regular basis, so the parents weren’t concerned about her safety. The friends said Shirley got into her Toyota Camry around 2:00 a.m., and told them she was heading home. Somewhere between the bar and her parent’s house, only a mile away, she disappeared. No trace of her, her clothing, or her car. No action on her credit cards. Shirley had her purse with her, but she’d accidentally left her cell phone at the bar.”

Cameron rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. “Sorry, Robynn. I don’t see where these two cases equal one killer.”

Slipping two manila folders out of her briefcase, she handed one of them to Cameron. “This is a copy of the case file for Shirley Metz.”

Cameron opened the folder and glanced at the photo of Shirley Metz lying on an autopsy table, and then flipped to the coroner’s report. “Talk to me about her autopsy results.”

“Her throat was slit from ear-to-ear, with no signs of hesitation cuts or defensive wounds. She had bruising on her wrists and ankles that suggest she was restrained. No DNA or trace evidence. Her body had been scrubbed with bleach. Just early signs of decomposition, so she’d been living somewhere for the twelve months she was missing.

“Brandy Murphy’s throat was also slit. Also with early signs of decomposition, she had no defensive wounds, and there were signs she was restrained. In addition, she’d been scrubbed with bleach and there was no DNA or trace evidence.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not seeing the leap to this being one killer.” Cameron scanned the coroner’s report. “There’s no mention of identifying marks on Shirley’s body by your coroner. On Brandy’s hip, we found a circular tattoo with the letters ‘J’ and an ‘O’ within the circle.” He pulled out his cell phone, found the photo he’d taken of Brandy’s tattoo, and handed his cell to Robynn.

“It looks like a brand like they put on cattle.”

Cameron agreed. “We thought so, too.”

Robynn opened her file to review the photos of Shirley Metz’s body taken by the coroner. Extracting one of the pictures, she studied it carefully before handing it to Cameron.

“Our coroner missed it! There it is on her hip, the same circular tattoo. That’s the link.”

Cameron inclined his head in agreement. “You’re right. Now we need to touch base with her parents and friends to see if she had the tattoo before she went missing. If she didn’t, we may have a serial killer on our hands.”

“What are your thoughts on using Carly Stone to create a profile based on what we know about the two cases? It would help us narrow our focus, steer us in the right direction. My lieutenant says we have money in our budget to hire her as a consultant.”

Cameron retrieved a card from his wallet and handed it to Robynn. “It’s Carly Stone-Chase now. Here’s her business card. Let’s get her started on a profile before this bastard kills again.”

Chapter Eight

They drove on State Road 341 until they reached an extensive wooded area. When Cameron stopped the car, Carly Stone-Chase got out and the sweltering summer heat hit her like a bus. Eighty-nine degrees and it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning. By the time Sgt. Cameron Chase and Robynn Burton reached her on the other side of the car, their skin was flushed and they’d begun peeling off their blazers and rolling up their sleeves.

“Damn, Carly. Did you have to choose the hottest day of the year to see the spot where Shirley Metz’s body was dumped?” Cameron complained as he pushed up his sleeves, a large patch of sweat already pooling under his arms.

Carly would have liked to have visit the original crime scenes, but thanks to the killer dumping both bodies elsewhere, that was not to be. So she focused on what she had: forensic photographs, police reports, autopsy reports, family member statements, and crime scene notes and sketches. But she still had questions about the dump sites and had to see each in person to focus on behavioral clues, thinking as the killer did—viewing things from his perspective. Besides, there was always a chance, however remote, that the crime scene techs missed something. Wouldn’t hurt to look around.

Carly bent to re-tie her Nike’s shoelaces. “I already told you, Cam. I need to see the original crime scenes. Since that’s not possible for either murder, it’s important I see where their bodies were dumped.”

“Didn’t you see the photographs in the file?” Robynn asked as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her cotton blouse.

Carly sighed. They were tapping her limited patience. “Where a killer dumps his victim’s body tells a lot about his behavior.”

“It’s there.” Robynn interrupted as she pointed to the sharp turn in the road ahead.

They walked the hot pavement until they reached a hair-pin curve in the road. Robynn stopped and pointed to a drainage ditch, and then a thicket of trees. “She was right there, under that large oak tree.”

Scrambling down the embankment, Carly leaped over the rainwater-clogged ditch and waded through clumps of switchgrass, with the two investigators close behind. Clouds of mosquitoes burst from the tall grass with each step, stinging any exposed flesh on their arms, necks, and faces. Swatting wildly, they quickened their pace as if they could outrun the pests.

Finally, Carly braced herself against the tree, slapping at a mosquito that had targeted her cheek.

Swatting a bug on her arm, Robynn pointed to the ground beneath the tree. “Shirley’s body was found in a sitting position to the right of where you’re standing.”

Looking toward the road, Carly said, “Her body could be seen from a vehicle. In fact, she’s dumped at the point of the curve where you could see it, no matter which direction you were driving.”

Brushing a path of plant seeds and insects from his jeans, Cameron straightened and directed his attention to the road. “That’s true. We wondered why a passerby didn’t report it, but she was found by a couple of hikers.”

Carly wiped the sweat dripping into her eyes with the back of her hand. “It bothers me that the bodies were dumped in two different locales.”

“Why?”

“Brandy’s body was found in a very public place, a busy mall. Yet Shirley’s body is dumped here in a relatively remote, agricultural area. On paper, it seemed the killer had two different motivations for disposing of the bodies.” Wading through some tall grass, she reached the oak tree and looked back toward the road. “But now that I’m here, I can see that he dumped both bodies in a place where they’d be discovered sooner than later. He wants them to be found. Besides communicating his contempt for the victims, he wants law enforcement to know he’s here.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, we know he’s here, and his ass is grass,” spat Cameron, a crest of anger filling his voice.

“Does he
want
to get caught?” asked Robynn.

Carly swiped another mosquito off her arm. “No, quite the opposite. He feels superior, bulletproof. He thinks there’s no chance he’ll be caught, so he’s playing a kind of sick game with us.”

Buzzing sounded above her head. By the time Carly noticed the honeycombed, papery bag hanging in the tree above her head, it was too late. The wasps fired out of the nest like fighter pilots, diving in to sting, regrouping, and coming back for a second run, then a third. Like getting stabbed repeatedly with a small needle, Carly felt her skin burning, as if salt were being rubbed into a paper cut. Panting, she couldn’t get to the vehicle fast enough.

With angry wasps sticking to her clothing and stinging exposed areas of her skin, Robynn screamed, her arms waving wildly as she ran past Carly. Her foot became entangled with a tree root and she tumbled down, twisting her ankle. She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. Cameron swooped in and pulled her up by her arm. He swiped away the insects on her, firmly wrapped his arm around her waist, and helped Robynn to the car.