Page 90 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)
Dana still looked up every time a tall, dark, and suited agent strolled into the room, but she’d managed to keep her focus on getting up to speed as George introduced her to the rest of the joint task force.
The team was made up of half a dozen NOPD officers and just as many BAU agents. As Richter had warned, the new Feds were all young—more comfortable behind a computer than in the field. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Dana always found more answers reading books than reading people. It didn’t mean she wasn’t good at both. She just preferred the controlled environment of her library over the chaos of field work.
“Got a list of possibles!” Richter bellowed, stomping into the room.
Wearing a pair of tactical cargo pants, white t-shirt, black flak vest, and his token salt and pepper stubble, he resembled an action hero at classroom show-and-tell day. The young BAU agents gathering around him like eager children only cemented the image further.
Dana looked at George. “Suspects? Already?”
He shrugged. “Let’s see what these pencil pushers can do. ”
The room fell silent as Agent Creed took the tablet from Richter. After briefly scanning it, he nodded, handed the tablet back to Richter and walked up to the smart board at the front of the NOPD conference-room-turned-command-center.
“Lights,” Creed said, and the room fell into darkness.
Dana was half expecting him to follow the command with camera and action , but instead he nodded to another young agent, who tapped a few keystrokes on her laptop, bringing the smart screen to life.
“If everyone will please take a seat,” Agent Creed directed.
The NOPD officers and Dana looked at each other. The BAU agents, including Richter, were already seated. She caught Richter’s eye. His dejected shrug told her these by-the-book antics were par for the course with the new unit chief.
Savoring the familiar classroom tingle of academia, Dana complied, taking a seat between George and Lena. Her breath hitched when the first graph appeared on the smart screen.
“Thanks to the details supplied by the Jefferson Parish Coroner’s office and parameters established by doctors Gray and Cruz, we’ve established a pattern of behavior that has left us with 68 victims spanning 23 years,” announced Creed.
Dana stifled a gasp.
“That’s more than we estimated,” Lena whispered.
“The majority of the victims are female,” George said, reading the graph.
“Yes, but not all,” Agent Creed continued. “We’ve linked ten male victims to this case. This tells us our unsub is someone who’s more motivated by convenience than sexual deviancy.”
“Or unsubs,” Dana interjected.
“Astute observation,” Creed agreed, clicking to another graph. “It’s likely, given the length of time these murders span, that we’re dealing with multiple unsubs, possibly familial.”
“Father teaching son?” Neville probed.
“Or daughter,” Lena added.
Creed shook his head. “Our unsub is a man. ”
“How do you know that?” George challenged.
Creed rattled off more stats. “84% of serial killers are men. And most will commit their first murder at the average age of 27 and a half.”
“That’s specific,” Neville muttered.
“That’s what we do here,” Creed said. “Boil things down to specifics.” He used his laser pointer to draw attention back to the smart board.
“The ratio of female victims in this sample increases the percentage that our unsub is a male drastically. Looking at the few male victims in this sample, what do you see?”
Creed continued when no one spoke up. “All the male victims happen to be small, elderly or powerless. It confirms the theory that at least one of our unsubs sees themselves that way. It’s textbook to target mirror images of themselves, thinking that will eliminate their problem.
When it doesn’t, they graduate to more advanced killings that help them feel powerful.
I.E., all victims for the last 18 years have been female. ”
“I have a different theory,” said LaSalle.
“Please,” Agent Creed replied, gesturing for her to share.
She stood. “These impotent assholes get off killing women. Any men in the mix were collateral damage. Showed up at the wrong place, wrong time.”
Creed smiled patronizingly well for someone of his age. “Baseless emotions won’t help us narrow our scope, Officer LaSalle. What we can tell about our unsub from these statistics is that we’re looking for at least two or more men. Based on victimology, they’re Caucasian heterosexuals.”
“At least one of them will have a background in medical knowledge,” Dana added.
“Precisely, Dr. Gray,” Creed offered. He moved to the next slide. “We also know they have access to this vehicle.”
Dana stared at the dark, unmarked vehicle. “Is that a hearse?” she whispered.
“Thanks to CCTV and local surveillance footage from the cemeteries where the most recent bodies were discovered, we’ve surmised this is how the unsub is getting his victims to the cemeteries.”
“You’re telling us this bastard works at one of our funeral homes?” Neville asked.
Creed shook his head. “We’ve already confirmed that this vehicle doesn’t belong to any funeral home here in New Orleans.”
“Would’ve been too easy,” grumbled LaSalle.
“I thought we examined all the surveillance footage from the crime scenes,” George said, pinning LaSalle and Neville with an irritated glare.
“Did boss,” LaSalle said. “Hearses come and go from those cemeteries on a daily basis. Seemed legit.”
“Those are the kind of mistakes we’re here to prevent,” Creed said in his condescending tone before continuing his briefing.
“Here’s a list of suspects within a two-hundred-mile radius that fit the profile.
” The smart screen filled with mugshots of hundreds of white male criminals.
“We’ll be spending the next 24 hours examining their records with a fine-toothed comb.
BAU check your attachés. We’ll divide and conquer.
NOPD, you’ve each been assigned a BAU agent to assist.”
“Two hundred miles?” George griped. “Think Junior knows that’s out of our jurisdiction?”
“Doubtful,” LaSalle grumped.
“Why are we only looking at men with criminal records?” Dana asked. “One of the unsubs might be in the medical field. Something he wouldn’t be able to do with a record.”
“Depends,” George said. “We’ve been in need of medical professionals and first responders since Katrina.”
“Still,” Neville argued. “Two white males, one with a medical degree, driving a hearse around our city murdering young women?” He harumphed. “No way that many suspects fit the bill.”
“Casting a wide net ensures we don’t miss our target,” Creed offered.
“Yeah. Ensures the body count increases, too,” George said under his breath as the meeting dissolved and Agent Creed doled out assignments.
“Hey,” Dana said, trying to remain positive. “This is the most attention this case could’ve asked for. And the timeline includes the Harvest Girls.”
George and Lena exchanged wary glances.
“That’s a good thing,” Dana insisted. “I know no one wants to open old wounds, but isn’t it worth it if it leads to the truth? Plus, with the medical angle, I think I can help narrow the parameters.”
“You’re talking doctors, nurses, EMTs, first responders. City’s full of ‘em,” George argued.
Dana shook her head. “TNC is an antiquated technique. Hardly any universities in the United States even teach it. We can cross-reference the suspect pool to those who would’ve been exposed to the few medical schools that do.”
“And you know what schools those are?” Lena asked.
“No, but the BAU should be able to run a search of medical programs that will tell us what universities had TNC on their syllabus and when. That should narrow our scope considerably.”
“It’s worth a shot,” George agreed. “Go broach it with Creed.”
“And what about the black market organ angle?” she asked. “Does Creed have anyone looking into that?”
George nodded. “He does, but that’s a whole other can of worms. Illegal organ trade is global. Creed wants to start local and expand if necessary.”
LaSalle shook her head. “This unsub is harvesting organs for a reason. Selling them makes the most sense.”
“Or maybe it’s something darker,” Dana offered.
“Like what?” Neville asked.
“Occult sacrifice.”
LaSalle huffed a laugh. “Sure, let’s blame Voodoo. Maybe vampires sucked the blood, too. Great job, Dr. Gray. Case closed.”
Dana was left slack-jawed as LaSalle turned on her heels and marched away .
“Don’t take it personally,” George said. “She’s just pissed the Feds are treating us like we need babysitters.”
“They’re here to help,” argued Dana. “We all are.”
“I know. She does, too. I’ll talk to LaSalle. You should follow up on your theories with Creed.”
As Dana watched George fade into the fray, a stab of loneliness hit her. Jake’s absence loomed over her more than ever. Maybe she’d been foolish to think she could work a case without him.