Andrea Kane - The Stranger You Know

“You have to.” Claire was literally vibrating. “I just called the Eighty-fourth Precinct. Something’s happening. Someone’s being tortured and killed. It’s happening in Brooklyn. And it’s drawing me to you.” Claire’s voice broke. “Oh, my God—she’s dead. He killed her. He raped her and he killed her. He’s still with the body. He’s doing something to it. But she’s dead. And you have to know that. I don’t know why. But you do.”

Casey’s own stomach was turning over. “Claire. Listen to me. I need you to focus. Tell me everything. Everything.”

“I did.” It was clear that Claire sensed the rising hysteria in Casey’s voice. “Why?”

“Because I think I just got a phone call from the killer.”

Chapter Seven

The body was located just after 1:00 a.m. at a warehouse on Jay Street.

Identification was no problem, since Kendra’s purse hadn’t been touched, so neither had her driver’s license or student ID.

The medical examiner did his job and filed his report. The parents were notified. They lived locally, so they rushed over to identify the body. It was a heartbreaking scene.

Tom hated this part of his job.

Once he’d dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s, he dropped wearily back in his chair and rubbed his temples. His tired gaze fell on the phone and he stared at it for a long time. The case was now a wide-open homicide. No aspect of it should be discussed. But Claire had been instrumental in their discovering it. She had a right to know.

Tom picked up the phone and punched in her cell number.

Claire answered on the first ring. She was with the entire FI team, gathered around the second-floor conference table, downing cup after cup of coffee.

“This is an unofficial call, Claire,” Tom stated flatly. “I shouldn’t even be making it. But given our prior professional relationship and the fact that you initiated this entire search, I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Thanks, Tom.” Claire put down her coffee cup. “You found the girl. I don’t need to ask you if she was dead.”

“No, you don’t.”

Claire nodded sadly. “I’m with my team,” she informed him. “May I put you on speakerphone?”

“We’re really pushing the envelope here. But fine.”

Claire pressed the speaker button and set her phone in the center of the table. “Go ahead.”

“It was pretty much as you described. The body was in a warehouse on Jay Street.”

“Shit. That’s my neck of the woods,” Ryan muttered.

“She was nude,” Tom continued. “Her clothing was torn to shreds. Her wrists were bound together. There was physical evidence of rape. The hyoid bone in her neck was fractured, indicating strangulation. The body was wrapped in a canvas tarp. Pieces of her hair had been snipped off. There was a red ribbon tied around her throat in a bow. And he’d applied lipstick to her lips. It was almost like he was leaving us a carefully wrapped gift, as sick as that is.”

“Sounds like a signature mark of some kind.” Marc spoke up. “Detective Werner, this is Marc Devereaux, one of Claire’s colleagues. I realize this entire conversation is off the record. So can you give me a description of the girl?”

“Caucasian. Petite—about five foot three, a hundred and five pounds. Brown eyes, shoulder-length red hair.”

There was a long moment of silence at the conference table before Casey spoke up.

“This is Casey Woods, Detective. What else can you tell us about the victim?”

“Her name was Kendra Mallery. She was a freshman at Columbia. Her family’s been notified and they’ve ID’d the body, but they’re in shock and not able to tell us much. I haven’t spoken to any of her friends yet. So I don’t know too many details about her habits or where she was headed when she was abducted.” Tom paused. “I realize Claire is invested in this because she visualized the crime. But I get the feeling there’s more at stake here. Why is your team asking so many questions?”

“Because it’s possible the killer was in touch with me at the time of the murder.” Casey tried to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“What?”

She went on to explain the call she’d gotten, reporting it as accurately as possible. She also told Tom about the cold case they were investigating and her caller’s allusion to it.

“Shit,” Tom muttered. “That’s no coincidence. The killer is targeting you. And keeping tabs on you in the process. Do you have any idea who he is?”

“None.” Casey fiddled with her pen as she spoke. “But the description you gave of the victim? It could as easily be a description of me. And not just the physical elements. I got my undergraduate degree at Columbia.”

At this point, the tension in the conference room was suffocating.

“Look,” Casey said at last. “We can speculate all we want. But the truth is, we have nothing but an untraceable, voice-scrambled phone call and a series of coincidences. That’s not enough to take action.”

“It’s enough to assign you police protection,” Ryan said.

“Minimal protection,” Marc corrected. “Our team can provide a whole lot more.” He cleared his throat. “Tom, based on Claire’s tip, which led to your finding the body, along with the threats that were made against Casey—could you speak to your captain about Forensic Instincts working together with your precinct on solving this one? Our skills and resources can complement each other’s.”

“While working within the boundaries of the law?” Tom asked pointedly.

“That’s always our intention,” Marc responded. “We’re not interested in being at odds with law enforcement. Just understand that we’re protecting one of our own. Anything we do that falls into the gray area will be our responsibility and will in no way implicate the police.”

“Fair enough,” Tom agreed. “Let me finish the paperwork, including all the information you just gave me. We’re in the process of checking for latent fingerprints on the tarp. We could get lucky. This bastard might be in the system. But first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take your request to my captain.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Claire said.

She disconnected the call. She didn’t need to look around the table to see what was reflected on her teammates’ faces.

With or without police assistance, they’d already taken on the case.

* * *

Claire remained in the conference room long after the rest of the team had taken off and even Casey had gone upstairs to make the attempt to catch some sleep.

No matter how hard she tried, Claire couldn’t get the crime images out of her mind. They flashed through her head, one image after the other, like some old horror movie.

The visualizations had begun in sequence as Tom elaborated on what he’d found at the crime scene. Claire could see it all—Kendra’s wrapped body, her hair, even the red satin ribbon tied around her throat. Worse, Claire could feel what Kendra had been feeling—everything from the panic to the blinding pain to the sense of futility, and then the moment when she’d given up.

The whole horrifying event had grabbed hold of Claire and wouldn’t let go.

She dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes, as if by doing that she could make it all go away.

It didn’t work.

Shoving back her chair, Claire left the conference room, heading down the stairs, looking for escape. She had no desire to go home or to be alone in her apartment. She was totally freaked out and trembling, consumed by a sense of death.

She didn’t remember passing the ground floor and continuing downstairs to the basement. But once she’d done so... She had no idea how she knew Ryan would be there. She just did.

The door to his lair was half-closed. Claire stepped inside, glancing at his usual spot behind the computer. He wasn’t there. Instead, he was across the room, sitting on his bench and lifting weights. He was definitely a man with a mission, pumping iron with a vengeance, perspiration glistening on his bare chest.