––––––––
Noon arrived and Greg cast another look at Austen and, of course, Mattie. She’d been hunched over her laptop since she got up at zero seven hundred hours. Five cups of coffee later, she was still hunched over her laptop.
“Okay, break,” he said, and literally picked up her laptop and moved it aside.
“Wait.” She startled and tried to grab for it.
“Stand down. Lunch. Now.”
She glared at him with big hazel, angry eyes. “I think I might have hit on something.”
He laid three placemats on the table and three plates with soup and sandwiches. Wasn’t cuisine, but she needed a break. “Tell us over lunch.”
She flopped back in her chair and flicked looks between him and the laptop.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
Austen took a seat after getting three beers, cracked the caps and plunked one down in front of Mattie, then cracked two more. “You’re like a friggin’ machine,” he said, grinning. “Kinda reminds me of someone else.”
Greg sat and raised a brow at her. “Let’s hear it.”
Mattie shifted a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Okay. I did some creative digging on the Dream Squad. I may have inadvertently ventured into some files through a back door.”
“How did you do that?” he asked, sliding a spoon into her fisted hand because he could see she wasn’t going to eat unless he started the ball rolling.
She dropped the spoon. “This is important.”
“I’m sure it is.” He grinned. “Tenacious, isn’t she?” he said, looking toward Austen.
He nodded. “Eating is important too. Eat,” Austen ordered.
Mattie stuffed in one spoonful of soup and left the spoon in the bowl as she forced down the swallow. “I went to university with a few very smart people and we’ve kept in touch. Listen to this.” She pushed the placemat with the food aside and slid her laptop in front of her. “David Yates has two complaints of harassment.”
“Who is David Yates?” the Admiral asked.
“One of the Dream Squad, and the guy who has been assigned as my release rep from Vic PD. Can I continue?”
Greg nodded.
“Two complaints by women who were stopped by him for traffic violations.” Mattie ran her fingers through her hair and stretched her neck. “I know there’s a bunch of crazy people out there, and some of them hate cops and will make up a story or two, but each complaint was investigated and removed from his record.”
“Then how did you find them?” Greg asked, pushing the plate closer to her.
“Will you stop! I’m not hungry. I found it from a complaint filed to the BC Ombudsmen. When Yates wasn’t disciplined, the women felt strongly enough that they went to another level.”
“Making lurid suggestions to a woman doesn’t make a murderer,” Austen said.
“No, but I also did some other checking after asking my roommate who the rest of the Dream Squad were at the Vic PD. There are six guys. Really close. Go everywhere together. They apparently take off on days of rest together—fishing, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds innocent enough,” Greg said.
“Whatever was behind Stuart’s back was not innocent,” she argued, “but some of the things he said bothered me.”
Austen cleared his throat with a gulp of beer. “She’s got a point there.”
“He said something really strange to me as he was putting his hand behind his back.”
He and Austen waited for the punchline.
“He said, ‘I really like you. I felt that spark when I first saw you. I wanted to keep you. I don’t want to do this.’”
“I wanted to keep you?” Greg queried.
Austen finished his soup and set the bowl aside. “Keep you,” he mused. “Versus what? Keep you where?” He and Austen shared a look. “Keep you safe, possibly?” When Mattie narrowed her eyes at him, Greg explained. “We have to lay out options and not all will point to guilty.”
He waited while she seemed caught in her thoughts. “Exactly. It doesn’t make sense. Do you think he was trying to give me a warning?”
“Warn you the same time as pulling a knife? Non, cheri. Those two things are very different.”
Her eyes widened. She tossed her napkin at Austen. “You did see what was in his hand.”
Under her accusatory stare, Austen shrugged but looked chagrin. “Sorry.”
“It’s hard to believe.” Mattie tapped her fingernail on the table. “But, that was the second date we’ve been on. The first one was incredibly weird,” she admitted.
He and Austen leaned back in their chairs and crossed their arms over their chests.
“Guess you want to hear it, or maybe not.”
A second date. Why had she kept this from him? “From start to finish,” Greg ordered.
With a quick summary, she touched on the high points. Including the fact that Stuart was into BDSM, which fired a very high, very red flare into the air for him. But one he didn’t want to talk about.
He and Austen stared at each other for the longest time, then they both nodded as if talking telepathically.
She tsked. “I can’t read your minds. “What do you think?”
“Things are starting to make a little more sense,” the Admiral said.
At all costs, he wanted to avoid the subject of dominant-submissive lifestyles. If he said nothing, Austen would catch on. “I think it’s the only answer,” Greg responded.
Mattie’s head swung back and forth. “Is this some kind of weird SpecOp thing you guys do?”
“I could track the Dream Squad. See where they go?” Austen offered. “Might lead us to an answer. Could use some of your team to help.”
Mattie plucked the pickle from her plate and munched on it. “What are you talking about?”
Greg nudged her plate back in front of her. “Eat and we’ll tell you.”
She pushed another spoonful of soup in and dropped it back in the bowl. “Well?”
Getting her to eat was like feeding a toddler whose toy was just out of reach but still visible. Hot on the trail, he saw the journalist’s afterburners kick in. “Did you find any harassment charges against the other men on the squad?” he asked. Greg considered the fact that if the cops belonged to a BDSM club, one of them may be out of control.
Her nose wrinkled as if disgusted with herself. “No.” Mattie swirled her fingers against her temples as if her head ached.
“I think you need a break,” Greg said. “Eat something. Clear your head.”
“No, I want to know what you’re thinking. Oh hell, you’re right. I need some air.” Mattie pushed to her feet and walked toward the patio doors, opening one and stepping outside.
“What do you make of it?” he asked Austen.
“If Stuart has been jonesing to run a flogger across Mattie’s ass, maybe he’s crossed a line.”
Greg nodded, glancing at the open door. “I agree. I’ll be back.”
Austen grinned as he reached for his beer. “Take your time.”
Greg closed the door behind him and walked across the small patch of lawn that sloped down toward the water. Mattie stood at the edge, her arms crossed, staring out at the harbour.
“Enjoying the view?”
She held her hair away from her face as the wind tried to have its way. “I should go back into the office today, and visit the Vic PD. I want to confront Stuart.”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“If I don’t, he’ll think I’m onto him. As far as he knows, his plans were interrupted and I’m none the wiser.” She stared up at him. “What if we set him up? What if I ask him on a date and he’ll try to finish what he started, but you both can do your hero stuff and stop him. Then we question him.”
“And then we’ll be charged with restraining a police officer and whatever other charges he wants to throw at us, and we’re in jail and you’re unprotected.”
Her shoulders sagged with disappointment.
“Mattie, we’d be at war with the entire city police department. We need proof that someone is covering up evidence. It’s hard to tell at this point if Stuart is one of them, but he had a knife and you’re instinct thought he was about to use it. If he doesn’t talk, you’re still in danger.”
“Where’s Brandon anyway? Thought he was coming over?”
“He is. He got delayed. He’ll be here after lunch.”
“What if Mary’s in danger?”
“She won’t be, for the mere fact that she’s engaged to an RCMP officer. Stuart will stay well clear of her. So will the others. If they’re dirty, they won’t want to tip off the RCMP.”
“There’s at least two of them involved in this, according to the old man from Market Square. I’ve been too afraid to say it out loud. What if the Ripper is a cop? Maybe he’s someone we don’t know yet but attached to Sergeant Montgomery in some way.”
“Not necessarily.”
She was making herself sick trying to solve something she didn’t have all the pieces to. When she turned away and stared out to sea, he stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her slight frame.
With his mouth next to her ear, he said, “I want you to relax for a few minutes. Can you do that?” As if on command, her body melted against his. He grinned. “I’d offer a back massage. Apparently I’m pretty good at them, but we’ve only known each other for a short while.”
Mattie chuckled and turned in his arms, but he didn’t move away, he pressed a little closer to see if she would resist. He almost laughed at the surprise in her eyes as she lifted her head up to look at him. Again, he was reminded that she didn’t see herself as a woman who would be desired, or maybe didn’t give herself the chance to be desired.
“Cheri, you’re surprised by my actions. Why?” He watched confusion flicker in her eyes. It leaped from a brief moment of belief to shelving her instincts that he was enamored by her into the ‘impossible category’. Why could she not see how alluring she was?
She stepped from his arms, looking rather unbalanced. “How many women answered your ad on the online dating site?”
Now, he took a surprised step back. “What?”
“Your posting on the Victoria Charm site. How many women answered?”
Not a question he wanted to answer. He palmed the back of his neck. “You researched me?”
“Of course I did. I had to know who you are. You’d been accused of murder.”
She waited for his answer, but he wasn’t going to give her one.
Her eyes narrowed but not because she was angry, because her mind was whirling again. “How did you meet Diana?”
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Through that site.”
Her eyes flashed open and she turned and ran into the house. What the hell was with this woman anyway?
He followed her inside and he found her typing like a fiend on her computer.
“That went well,” Austen murmured under his breath.
“Shut up.”
Mattie’s gaze flashed back and forth across the screen. “They’re here. They’re all here,” she said. She clapped and fisted her hands in excitement. “It’s a break. We’ve finally got a clue.”
Both he and Austen took a position behind her. Each of the eight victims had a profile on the site. Mattie scanned the male ads but she didn’t find Stuart. At least not by name, and checking all the pictures would take time.
Peering over Mattie’s shoulder, he nodded. “This could be how he picked his victims.”
Austen rounded the table and turned the laptop toward him, surveying the page with Diana’s profile. “Could be. It’s a catalogue of women open to the idea of hooking up.”
“I’ve never used one of these sites before.” She leaned her head back and stared up at him. “How does it work? Do you make contact on the site and then talk privately, or is it all through the site?”
Greg felt a little exposed and stupid that he’d put his profile on the site. Most guys would stroll down to a local bar and wait for a girl to take interest. The difference being, the bar hookups were with women who wanted what he had always wanted. A few hours of hot and sweaty, but once he dressed and left her bed, he didn’t plan on coming back. The Charm site could lead to something more permanent. Mattie watched him, waiting for an answer. “Pretty much that way, yes.”
“So there could be a record of the killer contacting these women.”
Greg watched the thread of excitement ignite her into overdrive. “The site operators are very protective of the information. They won’t release it.”
“Sergeant Montgomery is not working alone. So if it’s not him, then it could be his partner that contacts them.”
Greg sat down in the chair and grasped her hand. “You’ve been hinting around the idea a cop has gone bad. You think Montgomery is the serial killer?”
“There’s something really scary about that guy.”
He watched as she began to enter an ad for herself. “No, don’t do that.”
“Why? I might flush out the partner.”
“And they might suspect you’re doing just that, which means you’re a step closer to proving they’re dirty and a step closer to you being taken out to protect their game.”
The doorbell rang and Mattie startled.
“Gotta be the constable. I’ll get it.” Austen headed for the front door.
“Mattie, your nerves are strung taut.”
She ignored him and kept typing. He brought his hand down forcefully over hers and pulled her fingers away. He swiveled her chair then squatted in front of her. “I will not allow you to put yourself in danger.”
“Would you stop that! I have—”
He curled his hand around her neck and, with little effort, pulled her close. “Listen to me. You are becoming obsessed, and obsession can lead to terrible things. I know this.”
She swallowed. “I’m committed. There is a difference.”
He thumbed her cheek. So soft. He gently removed her glasses and placed them on the table. “You can convince yourself of any lie you want, but I see you’re desperate to find the Ripper. If all your focus is on one thing, you can’t see the danger coming from another angle.”
Austen rounded the corner with an RCMP constable in tow.
He stood and nodded his welcome. “Constable McCambridge, I’m Greg LaPierre,” then slowly allowed his gaze to drop to Mattie, who stared up at him looking dumbstruck.
“Good afternoon, call me Brandon.” He shook Greg’s hand.
Greg grinned down at Mattie, his words had struck their target. “Brandon, you on duty, or do you want a beer?”
“On duty, and by the way, there’s a black Dodge parked half a block down the road with an occupant inside. I called in the plate.”
Brandon had Mattie’s attention now. “Is it Sergeant Montgomery?” she asked.
“Registered to the Victoria PD. Ghost car.”
Mattie sucked in her breath and stood up. “It’s him.” She used the table to stabilize herself.
“You’ve seen this car before?” Brandon asked.
Mattie nodded.
“Okay.” He looked at his watch and the doorbell rang again.
Both Greg and Austen looked at each other in a mode only the two of them understood.
“That’s my OIC. I asked him to come,” Brandon said, putting a comforting hand on Mattie. “You should have told me this as soon as you suspected something was wrong.”
She nodded jerkily. “I know. I’m sorry.”
After introductions were made, they moved into the living room. Captain Frank Wallner sat beside Brandon and patiently listened to Mattie. She started from the beginning and gave them all the information she had, including the part she’d neglected to tell Greg, which was the homeless man had been murdered and her business card was missing from his belongings. She ended by telling them what she’d just figured out, that all the women were on a local Victoria dating site.
Captain Wallner sat quietly and listened, and remained quiet for a minute after Mattie had finished talking. He slowly scratched his chin and shot a look at Brandon. He slid forward in his seat and clasped his hands together. “This is not only about the women, this is going to be one fucked-up mess politically, never mind the media going round the clock to disembowel law enforcement. Victoria is the capitol of British Columbia. Where our parliament sits. Tourism is its biggest income earner. If what you’re suggesting is true, you might as well throw a bomb in the middle of the harbour and detonate it.”
No one said a word.
Captain Wallner looked toward Austen. “You’re an admiral in the United States Navy and the man responsible behind bringing down the Blood Shark in San Diego.” He turned his attention to Greg. “You’re a decorated Lieutenant Commander in the Canadian JTF, and you,” he said, like she was a plume of gaseous poison floating across from him, “are an investigative journalist for the New Times Colonist. Have I got that correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Mattie answered. “My father is Gilen Bidault.”
He stared at her. “Sergeant McCambridge, I want to talk to you privately for a moment.”
They rose and headed outside.
“What do you think he’s saying?” she asked.
Austen leaned against the fireplace mantle, watching the men. “The Captain’s telling Brandon we have to be roped in and the RCMP need to take the lead in the investigation. He has his doubts, but what you told him,” Austen paused, “sounds authentic enough to try to validate the information.”
“How?” Mattie’s gaped.
“He reads lips,” Greg answered.
“Handy.”
Austen turned his attention to them. “Been in his boots before, and I would think he’s wishing he hadn’t woken up this morning.”
The two RCMP officers stepped back inside.
“I suppose I cannot convince you to stand down from reporting on this story?” Wallner stated, firing an imposing look at Mattie. “I know who your father is. In fact, he was one of my mentors when I first joined the force. He’s well respected.”
“And so am I, as a journalist. I want all the facts before I publish the full story. Right now, only the information supplied by Vic PD is being reported to me. There’s a few articles I’ve done on the public’s perception, but I won’t be going forward with a full story until I know more.”
“From what you’ve explained, it sounds to me like whoever is responsible for this is concerned about what you’ve uncovered so far. If we’re to find the truth, you cannot expose the fact that the RCMP will be investigating this.”
“I won’t. I want the Ripper caught.”
He nodded. “Corporal McCambridge is going to investigate further. I’m not turning this into a profile operation until we have more definitive proof.” The captain stepped toward Austen. “How did you catch the Shark?”
Austen’s warrior face hardened with sharp edges. His jaw cut like a marble edge, his eyes firing shards of blue ice. “We had little to go on until he’d unraveled to the point where his fascination pushed him into making a fatal mistake.”
“Which was?”
“He abducted my wife.”
The captain’s brow rose. “The papers said he died during his arrest at the Navy SEAL base in Coronado.”
Austen nodded.
“So justice was swift.”
Austen brow lifted. “Dangerous waters in the bay.”
The captain’s taut expression released into a barely perceptible smile, but there was a warning in his eyes as well. Everyone in the room could see it. “Admiral, in Canada the courts decide the penalty.”
Austen didn’t flinch.
Greg knew he’d been up against the toughest men on the planet, and Austen was one of them. The admiral didn’t acknowledge Captain Wallner, but the cops point was clear.
Captain Wallner placed his hat on his head. “Thank you for bringing this forward, Ms. Bidault. Good afternoon.”
After a quick look at each of them, Brandon followed his captain out the front door.
Mattie fisted her fingers. “They’re going to know we’ve called in the RCMP. Sergeant Tall, Dark and Scary watched two units pull up to your townhouse.”
“Which means we’ve either sent them scurrying in every direction or just upped the ante,” Greg said.
Before he knew what she was doing, Mattie dialed someone on her cell. “Hi, Stuart. I just wanted to say I’m sorry about cutting our date short last night.”
What the fuck was she doing? If Stuart didn’t kill her, he would.
She wandered into the kitchen. “Yeah, we spent an hour reminiscing. Roger lives in Nova Scotia with his family.”
Austen listened to the conversation and shook his head.
“So, I was wondering if you had any further info for me on Bethany? My editor wants me to get a fresh piece out on the victims. Please tell me you have something?”
“What the fuck is she doing?” he said quietly beside Austen.
“Suicide.”
“What do you mean?”
Austen turned chilly polar eyes his way. “It’s your turn. Figure it out.”
“My turn?”
“Meet for lunch?” Mattie said, and gave them a thumbs-up.
“Non,” Greg barked, and vaulted across the room. He shook his head fiercely.
“I...I can’t today, but let me see about tomorrow and I’ll text you.” Hanging up, she did a quick turn on her heel and left the room without giving them a second look.
Greg followed her upstairs and stood in the doorway as she made the bed then zipped up her suitcase.
“Stop staring at me. I have two older brothers. Intimidation doesn’t work with me,” she said.
“Does murder?”
After stuffing her high heels in the front pocket of her bag, she gripped the handle and put herself in front of him. “I have to go.”
He blocked her path and considered holding her prisoner if he had to. “You can’t go out there unprotected,” he said, looking into her pretty eyes. They had hints of green and gold, reminding him of the sun spearing through a forest and lighting the mossy ground.
“You never answered my question about the dating site. My guess is you had a lot of responses. Although you’re a decorated sailor, you are a sailor. Any girl in any port. You might not be guilty of murder, but you’re guilty of shredding numerous hearts, I’m sure of that.” With her straight forward approach to everything else, she bowed her head and said, “I don’t want to be your fuck buddy, so stop looking at me like that.”
He extended his arm across the doorway. “Mattie.” He waited until she tipped her head to look up at him. “There’s nothing buddy about the way I want to fuck you.”