Syd Parker - The Killing Ground

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your wife was murdered last night.” Rebecca’s gaze was trained on his face, looking for a sign of guilt, for anything that seemed out of the ordinary for a man who just learned his wife had been murdered. If there was a tell, he hid it well.

“What? Oh my God.” Richard Hudson’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes registered shocked disbelief. “No, no, not my Elizabeth.” He buried his head in his hands. “What about…what about my baby?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hudson, the baby did not survive.” Rebecca didn’t think it was a good time to bring up the fact that the baby had been taken.

The sound of soft sobs filled the room, and Jordan used the opportunity to study him. The sobs sounded convincing, but then she remembered he had done this once before. Grief could be faked. She had seen it done in the past.

“How did it happen?” His sobs quieted to soft inhales of breath and an occasional hiccup.

“Are you certain you want to know?” Rebecca voiced her concerns, not sure that he would be up for hearing details of her murder. That was assuming he was innocent and not the UNSUB they were looking for.

“She’s my wife, Detective Foxx, I need to know how she died.” His eyes held hers, and Rebecca knew that she had to tell him. He needed to know as a means to move forward.

“Her throat was cut and she bled out.”

“Is that it?” His hands wrung together slowly, as if steeling himself to hear the news.

“I know what’s been all over the news. Was that all that happened?” His eyes pleaded with her for the truth. It was at this particular moment that Jordan started to doubt his act. Was he interested in how his wife had been attacked because he loved her and he needed to know, or was he a psychotic killer who knew the details and got off on them being repeated back to him?

“No.” Rebecca looked over her shoulder, her eyes asking Jordan a silent question. She interpreted her nod as a sign to tell him everything. “She was raped and the killer took the baby.”

Richard Hudson looked as though he might vomit. Anger flared in his nostrils, and Rebecca could see in his eyes someone capable of murder, maybe not his wife, but someone.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” At that moment, she did feel sorry for him.

“I want to see her.” His tone was cold, and she sensed a small amount of the man that had a prior arrest record for physical violence.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” It was true. Rebecca didn’t think it was a good idea to show him Elizabeth’s body. As angry as he was now, she knew seeing his wife lying on a cold autopsy table might bring out the devil in him.

Richard Hudson jumped up, and his chair slammed back into the wall. He leaned over the table and stuck his finger in Rebecca’s face angrily. Before she could even react, Jordan had come around the table and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him back roughly.

“Mr. Hudson, while I can appreciate your grief, you will do well to remember that assaulting an officer isn’t a good way to get what you want.” Her voice was low and even, and she left no doubt that she was willing to do whatever it took to see that Rebecca was okay.

“Agent!” When Jordan didn’t pull away, Rebecca shouted again. “Agent Gray!” Rebecca slammed a folder down on the table loudly. “I can take care of myself. If Mr. Hudson wants to see his wife, I’m sure we can arrange it.”

She wasn’t sure what made her agree to it, especially after he had thrown himself at her. Something in his eyes made her change her mind. She wanted to see how he reacted when he saw the body. Perhaps then she would be able to judge his guilt or innocence. She was buying into the whole grieving husband act, and she didn’t want to be wrong.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll have one of my uniforms escort you to the morgue.”

He merely nodded and sat down in the chair dejectedly.

Rebecca followed Jordan out of the room. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?”

“He came at you.” Jordan knew she sounded defensive, but Rebecca had accused her like she was the bad guy.

“He didn’t come at me. He was emphatic. The guy just lost his wife. Give him some slack.”

“That slack could have gotten you hurt. You saw the look on his face, and you know his history.” Jordan felt the need to defend her actions. “Besides, I’m not sure I buy the whole grieving husband bit.”

“Really?” Rebecca studied her profile until Jordan met her gaze. “I didn’t get that.”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like him.” Jordan’s time on the streets left her with the ability to read people. She was usually a pretty good judge of character, and she bristled at the fact that Rebecca doubted her judgment.

“If he is the guy, he’s a pretty damn good actor.” Rebecca opined. “I bought his act. Besides, we didn’t get a hit in the Combined DNA Index System for the DNA, and Richard Hudson has a record.”

“ Had a record. As far as the CDD is concerned, his record is nonexistent, so you wouldn’t have gotten a match. But that doesn’t make him any less violent.”

“Violent yes, but not necessarily a killer.” Rebecca felt like playing the devil’s advocate, getting under Jordan’s skin. “Besides, it seems nuts to kill seven other people, just to cover the murder of his wife.”

“Stranger things have happened. I’m still having Matt run the sample you gave us against his DNA in the National DNA Index System.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and walked away leaving Jordan running to catch up.

Jordan caught her arm. “Listen, come back with me. I had our profiler look at the case files, and I think he has some thoughts on our UNSUB.”

“Fine, but after this, you are buying me lunch.” Rebecca’s lip curled up slightly, and Jordan felt warmth effuse her body. This new feeling of wanting more than just sex with Rebecca was quickly becoming part of who Jordan was, and she wasn’t too thrilled with it.

“I guess I owe you at least that much…” Jordan smirked. “…for making this whole working together thing so incredibly enjoyable.”

“Funny, smart ass. Let’s get this whole profile thing out of the way. I’m getting ready to start, and I’m totally craving something chocolate.”

“Julien, this is Detective Rebecca Foxx with the Chicago Detective Division.”

Rebecca stepped forward and shook hands with an attractive gentleman, whom she put at close to fifty. His hair was brown with slightly grayed temples and when he spoke, she had to keep from rolling her eyes. What was it with hiring people with foreign accents? It reminded her of commercials that used foreign actors because supposedly some survey indicated people actually bought more of a product if the actor had an accent. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Redmond.”

Jordan directed Rebecca towards a chair and handed her a bottle of water. “So, Julien, what do you have?”

“Well, originally I thought he was targeting lesbians, but the most recent victim changed that idea. I believe we are looking for a male in his mid to late thirties. One who is very angry and is lashing out at whoever or whatever is around him. I believe he might be suffering from some form of impotency. The thought of being less of a man has made him resentful.”

Julien expanded his thought. “I believe that he may have been married at one time, perhaps even still married. He feels emasculated because he cannot father a child. Something happened to push him out of reality. Given the fact that the space between murders has shortened, he is losing touch with reality. It’s quite possible that his wife left him for another man, one who could get her pregnant, and he sees that as another sign of personal failure. He also believes he is above the law, or at least above getting caught. He leaves his victims in plain sight, which leads me to believe he feels superior to law enforcement. That he is too smart to get caught.”