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Chapter Five
Ethan welcomedthe morning bleary-eyed and surly-tempered. Sleep had been difficult to summon. Enough so that he’d finally given up at one point and gone back to work for a few hours, poring over the earliest homicides attributed to The Tailor, looking for ways the offender had evolved until his eyes burned and his brain could no longer process information. And even then, when he’d tried sleep again, it’d been a long time coming. And he knew the blame for his fitful slumber was the woman across thehall.
It had been the glasses that did it. When she opened the door, tendrils of hair spilling from the knot she’d put it in, reading glasses perched on her perfect nose, he’d had a technicolor image of the first time he’d seen her in the Truro library. When he’d spoken to her then, she’d taken off the glasses self-consciously, fiddling with the bows during the whole conversation. She’d since lost that self-consciousness. The glasses were different. But she was still gut wrenchingly sexy in them, and his response pissed himoff.
His second marriage had been as ill-fated as the first. In the four years since it’d ended, there’d been women. Nothing serious, because his batting average in that area wasn’t exactly stellar. But it wasn’t lack of female companionship that made him hyperaware of AlexaHayden.
Hayden. The unfamiliar name meant she’d remarried. Which was yet another reason there shouldn’t be even a hint of the personal between them. They’d both moved on. A chance meeting decades after they’d parted wouldn’t changethat.
An icy shower did nothing to improve his mood. Neither did his first glimpse of Alexa, when she slipped into the room they used for their conference area. The slight shadows under her eyes were probably due to her late night the last two evenings. He didn’t flatter himself that she’d spent the hours she could have been sleeping last night tossing in the bed, her mind returning again and again to memories that should have been longforgotten.
Nyle had obviously risen earlier and purchased Danishes and coffee. Ethan set his laptop on the table, booted it up and set the briefing agenda next to it before making a beeline for the caffeine to grab a cup. The first scalding taste was much-needed fortification. The unexpected addition of Alexa Hayden to the team was a distraction he could ill-afford. And he was damn well not going to waste any more time delving into memories that had been locked away longago.
He took another long gulp and decided to cut himself a break. It’d been less than twenty-four hours since he’d come face to face with the biggest regret of his life. A response was normal. But they had a killer to catch, and like it or not, Alexa was a member of his personnel-strapped task force. From now on, that was all shewas.
Ethan turned to the laptop and opened the group video conference software. One by one, the rest of the task force appeared on the screen. Captain Campbell, based in Ottawa, his expression stoic as he waited for the newest update. Ian McManus, Steve Friedrich and Jonah Bannon, the team members left behind in New Brunswick. Steve, the youngest of the three, was unshaven and chugged from a water bottle like a dying man in a desert. Ian and Jonah were RCMP veterans ten and fifteen years Ethan’s senior. Jonah held a coffee cup in a death grip, his bald dome glistening in the overhead lighting. They were using the conference room in New Brunswick’s J Division RCMP Headquarters in Fredericton. Ian sat next to him, one foot bouncing in a show of nervousenergy.
Captain Campbell spoke first. “Commissioner Gagnon wants another national news conference, Ethan. The press won’t be put off indefinitely with daily written updates on the investigation. We need regular face time with the investigators to convey a forward progression in thecase.”
A dull throb started in Ethan’s left temple. “I’ll assist in that with all the information at mydisposal.”
“No, Gagnon also wantsyouin front of the cameras this time.” Campbell’s wiry gray hair always looked like he’d just run a frustrated hand through it. This morning was no exception. “You’re the face of the investigation. Not that he expects you to fly back to Ottawa, of course. But you’ll do a remote segment during the interview, once we get it set up. We’ll work on what to release beforehand, ofcourse.”
The pain in Ethan’s head increased. This likely meant dropping everything on a moment’s notice and wasting a couple of hours in a news station. But he couldn’t fault the commissioner’s decision. The media was a fanged beast that had to be fed regularly during a high-profile case. The Tailor’s return had made national headlines. It was good PR for them to shape the narrative as much as they could, calm the fears of a jittery public and convince the press that they had the matter well in hand. Based on the UNSUB’s long criminal career so far, that would be an uphillbattle.
“And we’ll want Dr. Hayden at your side, of course,” Campbelladded.
“Of course.” Ethan managed to keep the irony from his voice. Forward progression meant a show of all the resources the Force was throwing at the investigation; in this case, a fancy consultant from the States. Far better to have the media talking about those extra efforts than having them speculate that not enough was beingdone.
“That’s all I have. I’ll contact you when we have a date and time setup.”
“I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce our consultant, Dr. Alexa Hayden.” Ethan motioned Alexa over to sit next to him so they could more easily share the screen. “She’s already identified the insects left with the last three victims and has developed a theory about the UNSUB’s use of them and how they tie into the torture. I’ll let her lay it out for you.” He nudged the computer screen towardher.
“Good morning. I’ve written up my initial notes and they’ll be added to the updated case file Officer Samuels will be uploading shortly. I’ll give you a brief summary, however.” Alexa appeared poised, despite being thrust into the spotlight without warning. She launched into a succinct account of her findings, and her conjecture about the offender’s reasoning for both the insect and victimselection.
Ethan found himself focusing more on her impact on the other men than on her words. Steve stopped fidgeting with the water bottle, sitting up straighter. Ian, who invariably chose the most butt-ugly tie he could find as in silent protest for having to wear suits, smoothed a big paw over his eye-popping neon green and red tie and buttoned his suit jacket. Even the normally stoic Bannon appeared enrapt. Given the fact that the team members had been as unimpressed with Gagnon’s decision for a consultant as Ethan, it wasn’t hard to understand where their newfound interest stemmedfrom.
Alexa was clad in a tailored blue blouse and black slacks, her hair pulled back into a knot at her nape. She didn’t have to try to capture male attention. She never had. Her unawareness of the impression she made on the opposite sex was genuine. Which was probably what made it soirresistible.
But resist was exactly what he was going to do, he reminded himself, shifting uncomfortably in the chair beside her. Her value to the team was the only thing that mattered. They’d done perfectly well going their own separate ways for twenty years. After the case was over, as far as he was concerned they could go twentymore.
“Interesting theory,” Jonah put in, after she finished. “Especially in light of the fact that we got an alert from CPIC this morning about a missing person in New Brunswick. Details match our John Doe.” He consulted a sheet in front of him. “Henry Paulus from Edmonton. According to a co-worker, he took a two-week vacation to go backpacking and camping in Fundy National Park. He never returned to work and no one has reported seeing himsince.”
“His co-worker reported it? Where does hework?”
“That’s the thing.” Jonah Bannon looked up at Ethan’s question. “He’s a firefighter for the city. He was part of a group that traveled to British Columbia to help battle the forest fire in the Kamloops region recently. I just faxed a photo of John Doe to Edmonton’s police headquarters. Waiting to hear on the tentativeID.”
Ethan slid a look at Alexa. She looked completely composed at the news but he was feeling more than a little stunned. Sure, her idea had sounded plausible when she’d run it by him yesterday, but if the unidentified New Brunswick victim turned out to be Paulus, her theory became much more than speculation. And might give them their first solid lead on the UNSUB’smotivation.
“Let me know as soon as you hear about the ID. If it does turn out to be Paulus, I want you to do some digging into his background. Dr. Hayden is speculating that the victims are selected because of some wrongdoing they are involved in. In this case, the most obvious conclusion in his situation is something arson-related.” It was a well-known fact that a small percentage of fire fighters were active arsonists. The problem was so persistent that fire departments received training in identifying and preventing thephenomenon.
“If the ID is positive for your victim,” Alexa moved closer to Ethan to share the screen, “a search of his home might be fruitful, especially his computer history and any forums he regularly visited. Keep in mind he may not have been a serial arsonist. Arson is also committed for profit, revenge, vandalism and to cover up other crimes.” Ian McManus was nodding as he scribbled some notes. “We don’t know exactly what the UNSUB was telling us about the victim. We’re making educated guesses at thispoint.”
“Seems like the offender is saying these guys deserved to die,” Steve Friedrich said bluntly. “So why start leaving these clues now? Why weren’t the previous victims tortured? Why didn’t they have the second bug in their mouth? Is he choosing different types of targets this time around? Because not all those killed in the past had a criminalrecord.”
“I think something significant happened to the UNSUB during the three years he was inactive,” Alexa responded. “It triggered his need to tell us why the victims were selected. He’s likely excusing his actions, as you mentioned. Or setting up a dichotomy whereby he’s telling us that his is a moralevil.”
“They’re worse than heis?”