“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It’s always amazing how much effort creatures are willing to put into procreation. And I’m explicitly not excluding humans.” Andi understood the compulsion to bring the next generation forth—he sensed it too often to not know how strong it was—but the things humans were willing to do to obey that biological urge puzzled him.
“Why should you? Anybody who’s ever spent a night at a bar or in a club knows what you’re talking about.”
“Do you do that?” Andi felt curiosity. He normally didn’t care much what people got up to outside their range of interaction with him. George had been with him for almost a year now, and during that time, Andi hadn’t seen him going out. He did his excessive sport, drank his terrible smoothies, tried to coax Andi into doing the same, and solved cases.
“Well, when I was younger, I went out now and then, did the whole clubbing thing. Wasn’t my scene, though, and I was too driven to expend much energy on something frivolous that didn’t help me with my career. I had some hookups, never anything serious. And since I’m here, I’ve been busy solving impossible cases, protecting my gifted partner from a vicious chief, and taking care of said partner.”
Andi opened his mouth to say something, but George held up as his hand as if he knew what Andi was going to say. “And I enjoy it all. Don’t start with there’s no need for me to look after you. We both know there is. And don’t even think about how you’re taking advantage of me. I get more out of this than just a shiny solving statistic, which I hope you’ll be getting into your thick skull sometime soon.”
“I know.” Andi exhaled long and slow. “I’m trying to get used to it.”
“You better.” They had reached the precinct, where George parked the Escalade in his favorite spot. “Let’s see what Geena, Luke, and the others have for us.” He furrowed his brow. “Do we mention the bees?”
“Not explicitly until there’s some kind of proof from Evangeline. I sent her a text this morning to look for pollen or anything related to beekeeping on either the victims or in the samples from the bunker.”
“Good thinking, Andi. I’m just glad Evangeline goes with whatever you ask of her without making a fuss.”
“She knows to trust me.” Sometimes Andi wondered if Evangeline perhaps knew more than just to trust him. She wasn’t overly religious, but Andi knew she closely embraced her Samoan heritage. And the Samoan people knew their stuff about nature. There was no point pondering it. Either she knew and kept her mouth shut, or she had her suspicions and kept her mouth shut. She was a smart woman, a friend even, not a threat.
George opened the back door to the precinct. “Let’s see if bees are already on the table.”
13. Modus Operandi
AS ITturned out, Geena and Luke had gotten a lot of new information from Evangeline and Shireen, while Sandra and Tobias had run into a bit of a wall concerning Dr. Grassen, one they were trying to break through at the moment. George did feel his hackles rise a bit when he saw handwriting that wasn’t his on the whiteboards, though he tamped the instinct to snap at Geena and Luke. Andi’s hand on his lower back helped a great deal. Having a partner who was so in tune with one’s emotions wasn’t always easy but definitely had its perks. Andi went to his desk, opening the top drawer where his ballpoint pens for destruction were stored. George approached Geena, who was standing at the whiteboard, smiling at him apologetically.
“Hi, Andi. Hi, George. I hope it’s okay. Luke and I started adding the new information.” She gestured at the whiteboard. It was the usual chaos of colored lines and names, only this time it was only partlyhischaos, which made it harder for George to orient himself.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just still getting used to the whole concept of having additional people helping with the case.”
Geena lifted a brow. “You mean you’re not used to others meddling with your stuff. I get it. I’d be the same if this were my turf. You can say it. I told you, I’m a big girl.”
George laughed, somehow soothed by her bluntness. “Which is the reason I’m trying to be chivalrous. You’re almost too understanding. I’m waiting for you to snap.”
“Believe me, Detective, when I snap, you’ll only notice when it’s too late.” Geena winked. “Although your wunderkind will probably sense it somehow. How was the visit to Timothy Cervill?”
“Well, he didn’t greet us with a necklace of severed pinkie toes, so there goes an easy solve.” George sighed dramatically. “He claimed very convincingly that he hasn’t been to the bunker since he was kid, and when I showed him the chamber where we found the corpses, he was surprised. Or feigned it very well. The jury’s still out on that. We didn’t tell him this was a murder investigation, and he didn’t seem to know. We should keep an eye on him, but he doesn’t stand out as a suspect any more than Thomas LeClerk does.” George took the black marker from Geena’s hand to add Timothy’s name to the list of suspects.
“Damn. Why can’t they make it easy for us?” Geena threw her hands in the air. “Anything else?”
“No. Unfortunately not. What do you have?”
Geena looked at Luke, who nodded, apparently leaving the talking to her. He looked tired.
“Well, we have something that could be really good and a lot of information we’re still trying to put in context. I’ll give you the facts first so you know you have something good to look forward to.” Geena’s voice was grim. Everybody dealt with death differently, and a certain black humor was common among members of the force. To outsiders it might seem disrespectful of the victims sometimes, but the human mind could only take a certain amount of darkness before it broke. Humor, however feeble or uncalled for, protected those who had to dive deep into the worst humanity had to offer. And this serial killer definitely ranked among the top contenders for that title. “Evangeline and Shireen were able to identify most of the remaining victims. There are five they haven’t found anything about yet, one woman and four men. Evangeline has written in her report that those are probably people who have never been in the system. None of them is younger than twenty or older than twenty-five, which probably means street kids. The others range from twenty to sixty, the only extreme being Izzy Whitewall at sixteen. From what Shireen could find online, they all had a history of mental problems: depression, PTSD, bipolarity.” Geena tapped the names and illnesses with a red pen she had snatched from her own desk. “It matches what we deduced from the patients from House Cusabo, which means our killer has a type.”
“Still no signs of him having another lair?” Andi had the ballpen dismantled and the pieces laid out.
“No, thankfully not.” Geena turned back to the whiteboard, where she had written the names in clusters. “We have a time frame. Evangeline was able to date the bones, and what Shireen found about the victims is in accord with it. The killing started in 2013 with TJ Ross and Celia Murdoch, who were killed in May and September. We know this because that’s when House Cusabo reported them missing. In 2014, we have Samuel Grand and the Jane Doe. 2015, a John Doe and Muriel Shaw, a homeless person from Charleston. 2016, Geoffrey Elstair and Izzy Whitewall, who vanished from House Cusabo in September. Due to the position of their bones in the quadrants, Geoffrey was killed before her. In 2017 our killer escalated for the first time. Three vics, Cedric du Pont, a John Doe, and Alisha Myers, another homeless person. In 2018, it was Kesha Raport in March, Lucas Mellen in July, he was from House Cusabo, and another John Doe. 2019, James Hershen, Lydia Bloomenberg reported missing in June, and Hamed Beshara from the Marines. 2020, we have the next escalation, four people. Lori Heller went missing from House Cusabo in April. Then we have a John Doe, Ben Los Santos, and Joshua Balugot. In 2021 followed Carl Latimer, Lola Monarch from House Cusabo in April, John Doe, and Anton Winchester. This year we have Marco Flores in January.”
“Which means at least three more victims to come.” George stared glumly at the whiteboard.
“Not necessarily.” It was the first time Luke spoke. “If we found the killer’s lair, chances are he won’t kill anybody until he’s found a new one.”
“You don’t think he has a spare?” Andi had straightened the spring from the ballpen.
“Even if he has a spare, which is a fifty-fifty chance, it’s perhaps not one he can use immediately. I asked Shireen to look for other bunkers around Charleston that could qualify.”
