Ellis and Warren had both arrived before eight a.m., expecting to see the same subdued Sydney Berry who had shuffled home the night before, a broken man. Sydney glanced up at the sad looking pair as they entered his office, noting that they both appeared in need of a pep talk. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said with genuine enthusiasm.
The two detectives glanced at one another, surprised at their leader’s attitude. “Exactly what is good about it?” Ellis groused.
“What’s good about it?” Sydney said, smiling broadly. “I’ll tell you what’s good about it, my man. Today, we are going to start closing in on this animal. That is what’s good about it.”
“Tell me, partner,” Ellis said, facing Warren, “didn’t we get the same amount of sleep this guy did?”
“I would think so,” Warren answered, very perplexed. “Maybe there was too much caffeine in his coffee.”
“Sergeant Burroughs, would you rather I just turn belly up and cry in my damn coffee?”
Ellis again turned to Warren. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he got laid last night.”
Sydney abruptly changed the course of the conversation, clearing his throat roughly. “Bernie informed me that the wound to Terry Morrell’s throat looked to be consistent with the type of knife we were expecting.”
“We let that kid down,” Ellis said, shaking his head sadly.
“As of this minute,” Sydney said, raising his voice, “we all stop beating ourselves up about what happened. Yeah, in retrospect, maybe if we’d done this or done that, things might’ve worked out differently. But, dammit, we decided to do things based on the facts as we knew them—not on what we know now.”
“What do we know now?” Ellis asked skeptically.
“What we know now, in my humble opinion, is that the bastard just might have been toying with us the entire evening.” His gaze traveled from Ellis to Warren, then back again. “We were thinking that we were on his trail, but maybe he was playing us like chumps right from the start.”
“What makes you say that?” Warren asked. “I think that Reed probably killed the girl, then doubled back to kill Morrell because he found out the kid was onto him. Then he stumbled upon Rushing and Fenney, killing them too.”
“That fits,” Ellis agreed.
Sydney shook his head negatively. “I don’t buy this thing happening without the guy—Reed or otherwise—knowing exactly where we were.”
“If this nutcase was trying to make us look stupid,” Ellis added, “he couldn’t have orchestrated it any better if he’d given us a script.”
“That’s why I’m going to quit feeling so guilty about the way things unfolded,” Sydney said. “We simply could’ve underestimated just how sinister this sumbitch really is.” Sydney’s face turned hard, his jaw setting firmly. “I don’t know about you fellas, but I will not do that again.”
Ellis shook his head, still bitter over the fact that Terry Morrell died on his watch. “What you’re saying is Terry was a dead man, regardless of how we played it?”
“I think so,” Sydney said, nodding confidently. “If this guy wanted Morrell dead, he had us at his mercy because of our mind set at the time.”
“What about Ashley Tanner?” Warren asked.
Sydney rubbed his chin, pondering the question. “The only way Reed’s our man, she tells him where she lives while they’re at the hotel. That gives him time to be there when she arrives.”
Ellis shook his head emphatically, disagreeing with the conclusion. “He could’ve entered by that same back window that we assume he used to leave the apartment.”
“We heard no sounds from the apartment,” Sydney argued, “so he totally surprised her. I think he was already inside by the time we got there.”
“I hope that Reed might slip up when we apply some heat today,” Warren said. “Maybe he’ll clear up that question.”
“What time should we expect the good senator?” Sydney asked.
“Nine o’clock sharp,” Ellis answered. “He was a huge jerk on the phone—as usual—his same old charming self. That man is not a happy camper.”
“While Reed’s here at the station, I want you to make a trip to his house,” Sydney told Warren.
“Why?” Warren asked.
“You need to grill his driver—really make the guy squirm. Put the fear of God into him. Find out if he took the senator straight home Friday night.”
“Okay, I’ll head out there now.”
Sydney stopped him by tossing a sheet of paper across the table. “Take a look at that before you leave. It’ll give you a little more insight into the makeup of this parasite.”
Warren picked up the paper, scanning it quickly. Ellis watched his partner’s face darken noticeably, his head shaking in disgust. “What is it?” Ellis asked.
“Lab report,” he said, handing it to Ellis. “Traces of semen were found on Morrell, as well as his sheets.”
While Ellis scanned the paper, Sydney continued where Warren had left off. “Bernie said that the semen couldn’t have been Terry Morrell’s—and that it was definitely a match with our killer.”
Ellis looked up, the unsettling conclusion slapping him in the face. “I guess that pretty much wraps it up… the bastard gets off totally on the kill.”
Warren piped in, “He may have even learned something new about himself.” He paused, squinting at the dark idea forming. “He might’ve found out that he could kill anyone and get that same sick thrill.”
“Maybe,” Sydney said, “but, then, why was there no semen with Rushing or Fenney?”
“Because they were killed outside… too much chance for discovery,” Ellis reasoned.
“Call it a hunch,” Sydney argued, “but I just think that when he got to Terry Morrell, he was so damned pleased with himself for making us look like a bunch of idiots, the excitement was just too much for him. There was no ritual with Terry. He just cut the boy’s throat.”
Ellis suddenly pounded the desk with his closed fist, the sound reverberating throughout the office, startling Sydney and Warren. “Dammit! I want this sonofabitch!”
Sydney leaned forward, his nose inches from Ellis’. “And you will have his ass, my friend. I promise you that.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Dexter Reed made it to the precinct fifteen minutes late. Sydney gave him a pointed frown upon his tardy arrival. “I believe we set this up for nine sharp, Senator.”
“I’m here now, Lieutenant. Why don’t we jump right in. I have a re-election campaign to run.”
Sydney pointed to a chair, across from his own and next to Ellis. “Get comfortable, Senator. I’ll only keep you as long as is necessary.”
Reed took the seat offered, interlocking his fingers in his lap, the essence of arrogant boredom. Sydney stared at those elegant hands, long and graceful, the nails obviously manicured. He found himself imagining those well-groomed fingers wrapped tightly around Ashley Tanner’s throat.
“Senator, as you now know, Sergeants’ Moore, Burroughs, and myself were following you this past Friday evening.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he said impatiently, “trying to catch me in the act.”
“To set the record straight, we were treating Terry Morrell as a suspect as well.”
Reed registered surprise. “Really? Now there’s something I did not know.”
“Senator, based on the circumstances involved with a good many of these victims, I’m very surprised that you would be surprised by our suspicion of either yourself—or Mr. Morrell.”
“I initially took your suspicions as a joke,” Reed replied coolly, “but I must say that I have since grown very tired of this entire ordeal.”
“We are all very tired of this entire ordeal,” Sydney said evenly. “As Captain Bradshaw explained to you yesterday, we plan on either clearing you or arresting you through the investigative process. If you’re clean, we thank you for your cooperation, then move on. Until then, get used to seeing plenty of New York City’s finest very much in your business.”
Reed nodded, then smiled smugly. “I am about to shock both of you gentlemen.”
Sydney and Ellis gave him their rapt attention. “Shock away,” Sydney said. “Just keep in mind that it would be hard to surprise us at this point.”
“Lieutenant, I hope you put every cop in the whole damn city on this case. I want at least ten of you guys at my house, another twenty at my office—and two or three with me when I take a leak.”
“I’ll bite,” Sydney said. “Why do you want all that attention?”’
“Dammit,” Reed said, exasperated, “think about it, man. I’m not your killer. I need police protection from this psychopath.”
Sydney rubbed his chin with his forefinger. “You think you’re in personal danger?”
“Of course, I’m in danger. I’m involved in this mess like Jodie Foster was involved with Hinckley. Some nut has got Dexter Reed on the brain.”
Sydney glanced at Ellis, who shrugged in response. “That’s a possibility, Senator,” Sydney admitted grudgingly. “Of course, if you’re right about that, then our presence should definitely give you some peace of mind.”
Reed tilted his head, unable to resist a dig. “One would think so, Lieutenant… but I do believe I’m burying a young man tomorrow who your presence did very little for.”
Sydney did not let his anger register, forcing himself to press on. “I assume that Sergeant Moore advised you that bringing a lawyer to this questioning was your right?”
“I will truthfully answer any questions you throw my way. I am an innocent man, Lieutenant, and very anxious to prove it.”
“You could take a DNA test and possibly be cleared before nightfall,” Ellis tossed in.
“I absolutely, positively will not be subjected to any tests. You super sleuths have built a circumstantial, bullshit case against me. Basic connect the dots detective work should put an end to all this nonsense.”
“We say take the test—you say no. That kind of thing adds to our suspicion,” Sydney said evenly.
“Too damn bad. I have bent to your will about as far as I am going to. You wanted me to answer some questions, well here I am.”
“Okay, Senator, where did your driver take you immediately after having, I assume, sexual relations with Ms. Ashley Tanner?”
“You assume correctly,” he answered smugly. “After having sexual relations with Ms. Tanner… two times… I left with my driver. We went directly home, making no stops whatsoever.”
“We will question your driver, of course,” Sydney stated, ignoring the immature bravado. “I assume that your wife could testify that you arrived home at the time you are stating.”
“She was already in bed when I returned,” Reed stated, shaking his head. “And I slept in a different room.”
“Do you normally sleep in separate rooms?”
“We’re getting a bit personal, aren’t we?”
“On this particular night, I simply need to know whether you acted irregularly at all.”
“Mrs. Reed and I no longer sleep together,” Reed finally admitted.
Sydney decided to shift gears. “After you left in the limo, we followed Ms. Tanner to her apartment, assuming that she was retiring for the evening. I would like to know if she gave you her address anytime while you were together at the hotel?”
“Yes,” Reed said, surprising both detectives, “she certainly did.” He reached into a business card holder in his jacket pocket, pulling a single card. He handed it to Sydney. “I even wrote it down.”
Sydney looked at the card, then stared at the unpredictable, cocksure lawmaker. He was unable to get a reading on the man. “Okay, you had her address—plus you gave us the slip—which means you could’ve easily been in her apartment waiting.”
Reed laughed sarcastically. “In other words, because of your gross ineptitude, I am sitting here right now. If you guys keep up with me, the girl gets killed while we’re playing car tag on the other side of the city.”
“But we didn’t keep up with you, so here we are. Now, we’ve already done a little background check on you—and you’ve answered some questions concerning a few of the earlier victims. Would you like to amend any of your earlier answers?”
Reed contemplated for several seconds, then finally nodded. “Patricia Swilling, I remembered very clearly. I did, indeed, anger her with a comment I made—and she left in a huff. Celia Bryant, victim number one, I also met with on two separate occasions. The second meeting—at my office—also ended unpleasantly.”
Sydney and Ellis sat spellbound by Reed’s totally uncharacteristic candor. “Unpleasant how?” Sydney asked.
Reed shrugged, an impish grin on his face, obviously trying to portray a ‘boys-will-be-boys’ attitude. “Ms. Bryant misunderstood a compliment I paid her. She then physically assaulted me and left abruptly.”
“I assume that you claim to have never seen her again?” Sydney asked.
“The next time I saw her was on the front page of the newspaper, concerning her unfortunate demise.”
“Alright, go on,” Sydney said, jotting down a few notes.
“Victim number two, Miriam Clay, I never saw before in my life. I was, however, very familiar with victim three, Teresa Chandler. She was a real beauty.”
Sydney hid his prior knowledge of Reed’s involvement with the beautiful stripper. “I’m surprised, Senator—why a stripper?”
Reed winked at Sydney, smiling the familiar smile that made both detectives want to drive their fists through his teeth. “I am quite certain that you can appreciate that a beautiful woman is a beautiful woman.”
Ellis spoke up for one of the few times. “What’s really amazing, Senator, is when you fall in love with one of those beautiful women. You marry her, then find out that there was so much more to her than a collection of perfectly formed body parts.”
Reed shook his head at Ellis wearily, then turned back to Sydney. “I didn’t know we had a preacher in our midst, Lieutenant. I can assure you that I am not here to listen to either of you two fellas moralize about my personal life.” He turned back to a glowering Ellis. “Sergeant Moore, perhaps I just haven’t had the good fortune of meeting a woman possessing all of the wonderful attributes that I’m sure the lovely Mrs. Moore obviously possesses.”
“Ever the politician,” Sydney noted with a sarcastic chuckle, trying to lighten the dialogue between Reed and a testy Ellis Moore.
“Like you, Lieutenant, I am always on the clock.”
“Speaking of which—what else would you like to change about your original statement? You, of course, are now admitting that you purposely mislead us a few weeks ago.”
“Lied to us, Lieutenant,” Ellis interjected. “Flat out lied to us.”
“I had an election to think about,” Reed answered with a flip shrug. “If I had thought that what little I knew about these women could help your investigation, I would have gladly volunteered the information.”
“I guess we’ll just have to take your word on that,” Sydney replied coolly.
“And your word is pure gold with us,” Ellis added, sarcasm dripping from each word.
Reed, ignoring the verbal jabs, smiled confidently. “That’s really all I have, gentlemen. If our business is concluded, I have some very important matters to attend to.”
“Are there any other questions you’d like to ask him?” Sydney asked Ellis.
“No—but I would like to ask him to reconsider taking the DNA test—or even a simple polygraph.”
Reed stood, shaking his head emphatically. “If you have any other questions to fire my way, go for it. I refuse to be treated like a criminal.”
“About Terry Morrell’s funeral,” Ellis said, “I would like to attend.”
“You must have been closer to Terry than I ever imagined,” Reed said, registering surprise.
“As you are now aware,” Ellis said evenly, “he was very much sold on the possibility that you are a murderer.”
Reed frowned, then shook his head resolutely. “I refuse to say a negative word about that boy. He was as fine a young man as I have ever met. He was like the son I never had.”
Ellis felt the absolute necessity to strike out on Terry’s behalf. “Senator, I think that it is important that you realize how Terry Morrell really felt about you.”
Ellis, I don’t—” Sydney tried to intercede.
Ellis raised his hand gently, asking Sydney to trust him. “Lieutenant, please—I think it’s important to let the senator know just what this ‘son he never had’ thought about him.”
“Go ahead, dammit,” Reed snapped. “I would hate to ruin this moment for you.”
“Terry hated and despised you, sir. This hate didn’t start because he suspected you of being a murderer. It was born from a total disdain for your lifestyle and behavior.”
Reed glanced at Sydney. “Are those Terry’s words, or the words of your very opinionated sergeant?”
Sydney raised his hands in feigned resignation. “I sat right here in this office and listened to Mr. Morrell. I hate like hell to break it to you, but the kid wasn’t your biggest fan.”
Reed’s usual unwavering confidence was staggered for a brief instant. “Well, I find that extremely difficult to believe.” He quickly forced himself to shake the blow. “At any rate, he was young and misguided—but my opinion of him remains unchanged. I’ll be burying him tomorrow afternoon at two p.m. sharp. You are both welcome to attend.” He took a step toward the door. “I plan on returning to Washington immediately after the service—with your permission—of course.”
“Sure,” Sydney said, nodding. “If we need to ask you anything further, we’ll be in touch. As for the funeral tomorrow, Ellis and I will probably be unable to attend.” Aware of Ellis’ surprised expression, Sydney continued, “We will be attending the funerals of Sergeants’ Rushing and Fenney.”
Reed nodded, his face giving away nothing. “Of course, and may I offer you my deepest sympathy on their passing.”
Sydney nodded his grudging acknowledgment. “If we don’t see you before your return trip to DC, make certain to contact us when you come back to town. Also, be prepared for the very real possibility that certain questions could arise which might cause us to summon you right back here.”
“But I’ll trust you to only do that if absolutely necessary,” Reed replied, the confident grin returning.
“I’ll use my best judgment.”
“Gentlemen,” Reed said, nodding to the two detectives.
“Senator,” Sydney responded.
After the door closed, Ellis turned to Sydney. “Are you surprised that he admitted knowing the victims?”
“Ellis, I don’t know what the hell to think. Of course, that might be just what the man wants.”
“He does have a way of keeping you off balance. What really threw me was when the son of a gun pulled out that card with Ashley Tanner’s address on it. He had to know that would give us all we needed to prove opportunity.”
A look of disgust replaced Sydney’s frown. “The one time I believe a single, solitary thing that comes out of that piece of shit’s mouth, is when he talks about needing police protection.”
“You bought that?” Ellis asked, very surprised.
“Hey, if Reed’s not the killer,” he replied, “the man has every reason to be worried.”
“Amen to that,” Ellis agreed, then quickly shifted gears. “You didn’t grill him as hard as I thought you would. Why?”
Sydney leaned back, crossing his legs on the corner of the desk. “He’s too smart to give us anything if we come at him head on. Hell, politics is all about sidestepping land mines. That man can tap dance to any music we play.”
“So we should do the unexpected?”
“We’ve done the expected throughout this entire investigation,” Sydney said, nodding, “and keep getting cut off at the knees.”
“What’s our first move?”
Sydney stood suddenly, reaching for his coat. “I’m going to see if I can talk the captain into getting me a search warrant for Reed’s house. Hopefully, the senator left here feeling less threatened. Maybe we can catch him with his guard down.”
“No way he has anything incriminating at that house—not with our suspicions out in the open now.”
“Who knows?” Sydney replied. “It depends on how invincible he feels.” The intercom buzzed. “Yeah, Gert,” Sydney said.
“A young man named Joel Erickson is here to see you, concerning the Butcher case. He says that he was Terry Morrell’s best friend.”
“Send him in, Gert.” He put his coat back on the rack. “Probably here to see if we have any leads.”
“That’s the one part of your job I don’t envy.”
“Oh, and there’s a part that you do envy?”
“Yeah, payday,” Ellis quipped. “Want me to stick around?”
Sydney nodded. “I’ll tell you when I’m sick of you.”
A fit, handsome, preppy young man appeared in the doorway, smiling nervously.
“Mr. Erickson?” Sydney asked.
“Yes, sir,” he said, “Joel Erickson.” He walked in, shaking the hands of both detectives.
“Pleased to meet you, son. I’m Lieutenant Berry,” he said, extending his arm toward Ellis, “and that’s Sergeant Moore.” Sydney pointed to a seat. “So, you were a friend of Terry Morrell’s?”
“Best friends, sir. We roomed together at Harvard.”
“Terry was a fine young man,” Sydney said solemnly. “We are going to bring his killer to justice.”
The handsome young man shook his head, a look of real determination on his face. “Lieutenant, I know who killed Terry. And unless I’m mistaken, so do you.”
Sydney quickly glanced at Ellis, taken aback by the statement. “Suppose you tell me what you think we know.”
“Terry told me of his suspicions about Senator Reed. He also told me that the police had been made aware of it.”
“Listen to me very closely, Mr. Erickson,” Sydney said sternly. “That little bit of information must not leave this room. Do you understand?”
“Please don’t think of me as your adversary,” Joel replied, very animated. “I’m not here to cause you any problems. I’m here to offer my assistance.”
“And how could you assist us?” Ellis asked.
“I loved Terry like a brother. Neither of us have any family to speak of, so we took each other as family.”
“Then I guess you’ll be attending the funeral tomorrow?” Ellis asked.
Sorrow and pain overcame his handsome features. “I wasn’t sure when the funeral would be… but no, I won’t be going.”
“Why not?” Sydney asked, very surprised.
Joel took a deep breath, looking from one detective to the other. “I can’t let on to the senator that I was close to Terry.”
Sydney felt a churning in his stomach, which usually meant he was about to hear something he didn’t like. “Why wouldn’t you want him to know?”
“Because,” he replied evenly, “I plan on seeing Reed this afternoon.”
“And just why the hell are you going to do that?” Sydney asked, his tone becoming darker.
Joel Erickson set his jaw, very determined. “Senator Reed is now in dire need of a top aide. I plan on filling that need before he has a chance to hire someone else.”
Sydney chuckled wryly, taking the antacid tablets from his top drawer. He removed two, popping them into his mouth. He then leaned back in his chair, still chuckling and shaking his head. “Like hell you are, young man. Over my dead body.”
Joel Erickson seemed prepared for Sydney’s objections, nodding his head patiently. “Lieutenant, I know that you’re concerned about my safety—and I appreciate it. But you have to understand where I’m coming from. I loved Terry Morrell.”
“Do you realize that the reason Terry’s dead right now is because I allowed him to play amateur detective?”
The young man’s eyes had that same intensity that the detectives had seen in Terry Morrell’s. “Terry did what he did because he cared about people. He saw an opportunity to help—and didn’t hesitate.” Joel stood and walked around the room, his hands becoming more demonstrative. “I’m sure as hell not going to stand by idly while that murderer walks around free after killing my best friend.”
“That is exactly what you’re going to do,” Sydney said stubbornly. “We’re investigating Reed right now. In fact, he left here just a few minutes ago. You just stay out of this and let us handle it.”
Joel stopped pacing, placing both hands on Sydney’s desk. “But Reed did leave—which means you don’t have enough to arrest him.”
“We’ve only recently been able to openly investigate him,” Ellis stated from behind Joel. “If he’s responsible, we’ll nail him.”
“What do you mean if he’s responsible?” Joel asked incredulously. “What other possibility is there, considering the way this thing has played out?”
“Mr. Erickson,” Sydney said, “we’ve known you for less than five minutes. What makes you think we’re going to give you our entire case?”
“Look, the only reason I really came here was to let you know my plans. Terry really liked and respected you guys,” he said, pointing to Ellis, “especially Sergeant Moore. I could’ve just gone ahead with it without filling you in, but I wanted to do it the right way.”
“Okay, you did the right thing,” Sydney said coolly. “You told us. Now, I’m telling you to scrap your entire crazy plan. Case closed.”
Joel frowned, then shook his head slowly. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, I’m not here to ask your permission. The election is coming up, so Reed will be at loose ends without a right-hand man. I’m going to strike while the iron is hot.”
“I’ll call and spill the beans,” Sydney warned. “He won’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
“I’ll still dog him, day and night,” Joel replied stubbornly. “By telling him, you’ll just make it much more dangerous for me.”
Sydney looked at Ellis, smirking. “Can you believe this? He just admitted to two police officers that he is going to stalk a United States senator.”
“You want me to arrest him?” Ellis asked without cracking a grin.
“Lieutenant, Sergeant, please let me do this,” he said earnestly. “I’m sure it’s what either of you would do if the other were killed by some lunatic.”
Sydney paused, running his palm down his face. After a few seconds, he once again shook his head. “Sorry, no can do.”
Joel took a deep breath, the same determined look on his face. “Lieutenant, there’s a job opening which I hope to be interviewing for this afternoon. It’s a job that I am infinitely qualified for, so there is a very good chance I just might get it. I will then perform the job to the best of my ability. While I am performing those duties, I’ll observe Senator Reed. If there should come a time when I obtain knowledge which might be helpful in your investigation, I’ll pass it along to you.”
Sydney threw his hands up in resignation, looking over to Ellis. “Help me out here.”
Ellis stood, then stalked over to Erickson, a menacing look on his face. Joel’s eyes opened wide, as Ellis stopped so close to him that their noses actually touched. “You are a stubborn sonofabitch,” he growled.
“Y—Yes sir,” he said, fighting his nerves, “just like Terry.”
“Yep, just like your buddy, Terry. And they are burying his stubborn ass tomorrow, sure as shittin.”
“I have to do this, Sergeant Moore,” he said, confidence growing in his voice. “I just have to.”
Ellis continued to stare a hole through the young man. “Just make sure you realize this is no fucking game. You have sixty or seventy years ahead of you, barring illness or accidental death. But, if this killing machine were to get ahold of you, you would cease to exist. Do you really understand the finality of that possibility?”
Joel made a conscious effort to match Ellis’ stare. “I didn’t come to this decision lightly. I completely understand the risks involved. I swear to you that I will only observe.”
Ellis turned, then made his way back to his chair. “For an Ivy League boy, you sure don’t impress me in the brains department. What the hell do they put in the water at Harvard?”
“I’m following my heart,” Joel said softly. “When I see Terry in the next life, I want to look him in the eye, knowing that I did everything he would’ve done for me.”
“Let’s just hope you don’t get to see your old friend any time soon,” Sydney finished solemnly.
◆ ◆ ◆
The dream became hotter, the fifteen-year-old girl in his math class doing things to him that he had only fantasized about. Her hand moved on him. She kissed his ears, neck, and mouth, pausing only to smile at him, her white teeth sparkling, her eyes beckoning him to give into the need.
Her hand became more persistent. He surrendered to the sensation, every fiber of his being concentrated on what she was doing to him. He felt the tide rising, the inevitable conclusion to her unrelenting ministrations.
The pleasure overtook him as he released a torrent that only a teenager could muster. A groan escaped his lips, waking him from an unconscious state, and bringing him crashing back to his guilt-ridden reality. Her hand slowed. His body stopped its involuntary contractions. The damp cloth began to move on him, darkness hiding the shameful result of their folly.
He scarcely breathed as she finally finished. She leaned over, planting a chaste kiss on his forehead. He felt her weight leaving the mattress, then heard her soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. As the door closed, he raised his clenched fists to his eyes, damp with tears of frustration. Dammit. No! his mind screamed. How could I let it happen again? He struck the mattress repeatedly with his fists, violently repulsed by his sick attraction to such an unforgivable deed.
Burying his face in his pillow, he allowed the tears to flow. Silently, he vowed to never let it happen again. It was a vow he had made many times before.
◆ ◆ ◆
Ellis stood to leave Sydney’s office. “So… I can go after Reed with no holds barred, right?”
“I’ll trust your judgment,” Sydney said, nodding. “What do you have planned?”
“Routine police work, Chief. I’ll let you know what I come up with.”
“What do you think about that kid?” Sydney asked.
Ellis sighed audibly. “He seemed to be cut from the same mold as Terry. No wonder they were so close at Harvard—they’re like carbon copies.”
“Hell, maybe he won’t even get the job,” Sydney said, a worried tone in his voice.
“If he does, it could help us. He’ll be privy to things we ain’t.”
Sydney nodded, still pissed about the turn of events. “Still, for the record, I never gave him my blessing on this little escapade. You’re my damn witness.”
“We made it clear we were totally against it,” Ellis agreed, nodding. “He’s playing the renegade—full of piss and vinegar.” He opened the door. “I’m gonna get going now, Syd.”
“Good luck.”
After Ellis closed the door behind him, Sydney took out the growing file of victims, laying out everything he had managed to assemble about the case. The press had the number of victims at six, but Sydney knew the actual count to be nine.
He leaned forward, placing his chin atop his interlaced fingers. Think like the sonofabitch! he shouted inwardly. If he wants a fucking chess match, give it to him.
◆ ◆ ◆
Ellis met Warren on his way out of the precinct. “How did it go with Reed’s driver?”
“I didn’t even have to go to the estate to see him,” Warren answered. “He brought Reed here to meet with you guys. I saw him drive up, so I waited for Reed to go inside, then I waltzed over and got acquainted.”
“What’d you find out?”
“He claims he took Reed straight home after his rendezvous with Ashley Tanner.”
“Did it sound rehearsed?”
“Nope, not at all… the guy was a real proper gentleman— had an English accent and everything. I couldn’t rattle him. He seemed to be shooting straight to me.”
“With all of Reed’s shenanigans, being selectively blind and deaf are probably part of the guy’s job description. I wouldn’t put too much stock in what he said.”
Warren was a bit put off by Ellis’ advice. “Look, I leaned on him pretty hard. He held firm that he took Reed straight home. I didn’t see any sign of deception on his part. Besides, I thought your gut told you that Reed wasn’t our man.”
Ellis frowned, his right hand rubbing his protuberance. “I hate to say it, but I’m starting to think that Reed’s own theory is the best horse to bet on.”
“Oh, yeah?” Warren said, his interest peaked. “What theory is that?”
“Reed suggested that he’s involved in all this, but only as an unwilling participant. He thinks this guy is all about some Dexter Reed.”
“He thinks the guy’s a stalker?” Warren asked.
“Kinda,” Ellis said, grappling, “but not really. If Reed isn’t the Butcher, then whoever is the Butcher is very aware that he is implicating the senator.”
Warren frowned, very skeptical about the theory. “I think it must be the diet, buddy,” Warren said, shaking his head. “I think Reed is looking better and better as our bad guy.”
“Well, the good news,” Ellis said, “is that if it is Reed, we’re on him like flies on shit.”
“And the other good news,” Warren added, “is if it ain’t him, then at least we’re gonna be around him if something happens.”
“Been a long time since we had any good news,” Ellis said, sighing. “We’re definitely overdue.”
“I hear you, pardner,” Warren replied wearily. “I know something’s gotta give. I haven’t spent a day with my kids in over a month.”
“Oh, we’re getting closer, Bulldog,” Ellis said, rubbing his gut. “Trust me, I’ve got the bastard’s scent.”
Warren suddenly felt better, Ellis’ mood inflating his own. One thing Warren knew, with absolute certainty, was that Ellis Moore was one dog who could hunt.