Field of Graves(62)
The restaurant was set up like a cafeteria. They ordered tacos and enchiladas, retrieved their food, and made their way to a private corner. The restaurant wasn’t full, so they had plenty of privacy.
Digging into their meals, they were silent for a moment. Price took a long drink of his soda and eyed Baldwin, finally giving the younger man a smile.
“So how are you finding our little operation? Anyone giving you any trouble? Taylor keeping you in the loop on everything?”
It wasn’t the beginning Baldwin expected, but he rolled with it. “Actually, everyone has been very gracious and helpful. Taylor especially.”
They stared each other down. Aha, Baldwin thought. Maybe this wasn’t about him after all.
“Son, I was a little dubious about letting you in on this case. But your boss and I go way back. Way back. And when he asks me a favor, I’m quite likely to comply. That’s why I agreed to let you come on board and gave you the option of whether you could handle yourself enough to participate. You seem to be doing fine. But I’m wondering just how committed you are to this case. You know what I mean?”
Baldwin suppressed a grin. He felt sure Price was going to ask his intentions toward his lieutenant, like an overprotective father. It hit him that everyone was a little overprotective of Taylor, though he couldn’t see any reason for them to be so concerned. Her anxiety attacks aside, the woman seemed to have steel fused in her backbone. He was debating how exactly to answer when Price continued, almost reflectively.
“The stuff that’s been happening around here is unusual, to say the least. We don’t have a lot of high-profile cases, at least not this many in so short a period of time. I’ve been doing this for a long time, since before you were running around in short pants. I’m inclined to agree with you—my gut’s telling me these murders are related and that we’re dealing with one killer. You said you think he’s trying to send us a message. You’re the profiler on this case. Time to earn your pay.”
Exam time. Baldwin decided to go for it. He felt Price was sincerely asking for his opinion. Perhaps it was time to trust him and show his worth to the man.
“I’m not 100 percent perfect yet, so I’m going to think aloud here, okay? We aren’t dealing with a serial killer, not in the accepted sense of the word. This guy is on a spree—a very calculated, very organized spree. Each death has a meaning to him; each placement of the body is intentional. He hasn’t left many physical clues besides the semen from Shelby Kincaid. And I think that was deliberate. It’s part of the message. Shelby had been raped, but placed at the Parthenon and shrouded in herbs, which strikes me as a loving gesture. Jordan Blake was pregnant. Now we find out Jill Gates is pregnant as well. There is a fatherhood theme going on here. One interpretation—he feels protective toward them, he wants to be a father figure. Or, he desperately wants to be a father. The father. Look at the church fire. He kills a ‘Father.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “He places the bodies in a house of God, the Father of Christ. There are so many interpretations out of that alone that we could be puzzling it through for months.”
Price was staring at him openmouthed, then laughed. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. But you’re the profiler—you guys are paid to think differently than the rest of us. So profile this guy for me. The University Killer, I guess he’s being called. Creative name, huh? Lee Mayfield at her best. Not the brightest woman, that one, thinking she can take on Taylor Jackson and win. She hates Taylor’s guts.”
“I heard about their issues. Mayfield may not be too bright, but she hit on something I doubt she realizes. We are dealing with someone who’s smarter than average.”
“Which holds true for most organized serial and spree killers.”
“Yes, but this one keeps breaking his profile. Three girls and one man are dead, with three separate and distinct methods of killing. Another girl is missing. He’s not leaving them in a secret dumping ground—he’s placing them where we’ll find them quickly. Even finding Jordan on the banks of the river was calculated. She could have easily been washed downstream, but I think he weighted her down right there in the area she was found, came back to her body after Shelby’s was discovered, and released her, knowing with the slow current she wouldn’t go far. A coincidence, finding them both in such a short period of time? There are no coincidences, not in this world.” He sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin. “You know what they say, ‘Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.’ So unless God ordained that Jordan was going to be found within twenty-four hours of Shelby, it was planned.”
He broke off, taking a sip of his soda. “I think we need to be looking for someone a little older than the standard profiled age. Middle-aged even. And where do you find middle-aged men on a college campus?”
Price smiled. “Professors.”
“Exactly. I think Shelby, Jordan, Jill, and our unidentified burn victim have all had contact with him in a controlled environment on campus. How the priest fits in, I don’t know yet. There are no indications the girls were religious or attended St. Catherine’s.”
“Let’s leave Father Xavier aside for the moment. He might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Focus on the girls. You think they’ve all had contact with the suspect one way or another. Are they taking classes from him?”