Chances Are(6)

The instant Noah stood, the entire room went quiet and all eyes zeroed in on the LCR leader. “We’ve been asked, along with several other organizations, to lend a hand in the search for the killer who’s been on a rampage in London for the last year or so—the one the press has named the Red Rose Killer.

“Here’s what we know: All of the victims have been tall, attractive brunettes. The women are single, Caucasian…between the ages of twenty and thirty. His preferences are waitresses and strippers.”

His eyes scanned the room. “We believe he stalks his victims to ensure that they live alone. Once that’s determined, he somehow gets into their home and takes them. There’s been no sign of forced entry in any of the victims’ houses.”

“Is there any evidence that he actually gets into the home? How do they know he doesn’t take them at the door? Or somewhere else?” Shea asked.

“There’s a possibility some have been abducted elsewhere but there have been signs of a struggle in some of the victims’ homes. The theory is he gets inside, overpowers them, and then carries them out.”

“How the hell have people not seen them taken?” Ethan asked. “At some point, you’d think someone would have noticed an unwilling woman being dragged from her home.”

Noah shook his head. “Traces of Ketamine, Rohypnol and Scopolamine have been found in the victims’ blood. Any of those drugs can render a person helpless without causing unconsciousness.”

“And can make you do things you never thought possible,” Shea muttered.

All eyes went to the operative who had been kidnapped by a madman several years ago. Shea had been given a cocktail of the very same drugs, had lost her memories and almost her life. Thankfully, Ethan had rescued her but the hellacious event had struck at the very core of their organization.

“Exactly,” Noah said grimly. “Scopolamine in particular. It’s been called the zombie drug for good reason. A victim remains conscious and will follow voice commands. When the drug wears off, the victim often has no recollection of what happened.”

“I’m surprised there’s any blood left to test,” Riley said.

Noah nodded. “All the women have died from massive blood loss. Throats are slashed, severing the carotid artery.” He looked down at a file in front of him. “It’s also believed that once he abducts his victim, he keeps her alive for several days before he kills.”

“Why do they think that?” Eden asked.

“A couple of reasons. Several of the victims have called into work or contacted friends and relatives informing them they were going to be gone for a few days. When they didn’t come back to work or reappear, relatives and friends went to check. The homes were empty. Mail and paper stacked up—indicating the women have been gone for a while.

“Also, the amount of torture he’s inflicting would take hours, if not days. It’s believed he keeps them between three and eight days. His torture methods are as varied as they are horrific. Electrical shock, strangulation, and burning their skin are just a few of them. After he kills each victim, he dresses them and then dumps the bodies in high-traffic areas around London.”

“Sounds like he wants to get as much press exposure as he can get,” Jake said.

“Yes, and the press has been more than happy to oblige,” Noah said.

Pulling photographs from a thick folder, Noah passed them to Jake. Angela had already seen a couple of the photographs. Beautiful women, dressed in elegant evening gowns, hair and makeup in perfect order, and a single red rose clutched in their hands. The only thing that marred their pale, lifeless beauty was the hideous gaping slash across their throats. The evening gown covered the multitude of torture marks on their skin.

Jake examined the photographs, passed them to his left and lifted his gaze to Angela. She saw questions, concern, and not a little bit of anger. The anger was justified. She should have been brave enough to talk to him yesterday. Bravery wasn’t usually an issue for her. She had no doubts about her courage but Jake brought out a unique vulnerability in her. She wanted to please him.

“How many victims?” Shea asked.

“Ten that we know of. At first it was one murder every three or fourth months. For the past two months, it’s been one about every eight to ten days.”

“His need is increasing,” Jordan said grimly. “Do we know whether he already has another victim picked out before he kills his current victim?”

Noah shook his head. “No, and that’s just one of the many things we don’t know. Maybe he targets several. That way, as soon as he’s done with one, he already has another lined up. But from the amount of torture he’s inflicting on these women, he’s spending a considerable amount of time with them. It’d be hard for him to commit a lot of hours to stalking.”

“Other than their occupations, does anything else link the victims together?” Sabrina asked.

“Not as far as we know. However, there are four areas of the city he seems to be concentrating on. You’ll see your assignment is in one of these areas.

“British authorities called me in for a consult the day they found their fifth victim. Honor, Seth and I flew to London and met with them. I offered LCR’s assistance at that time but it was refused. The day they found the eighth victim, they called, asking for our help.”

Angela remembered the day they returned. All three had the same bleak, sad look on their faces. Seth Cavanaugh had been a cop and his wife Honor was a former FBI agent. Both had seen their share of evil things. Angela had immediately known this wasn’t the average killer. This man was a monster. One that had to be stopped.

“There's one more distinguishing factor,” Noah said. “Each woman received a bouquet of red roses the day before she was attacked.”

Shea nodded. “So that’s where the press came up with the Red Rose Killer. I haven’t seen any mention of the single rose found in the victims’ hands.”

“Right,” Noah confirmed. “That’s one of the few things they’ve been able to keep from reporters.”

“What about florist shops?” Sabrina asked. “Any idea where he’s buying the flowers?”

“No. There are no cards indicating which florist made the arrangement. It’s assumed he buys them from all over the city. Probably pays cash. There are thousands of rose bouquets purchased every day. It’d be damn hard to trace every one of them.” Noah lifted his shoulders in a shrug, his dark expression showing his frustrations with the lack of knowledge. “Hell, we’re not even sure how the flowers get delivered.”

“Could be that’s how he’s getting inside,” Justin said.

Noah nodded. “That’s why the news outlets released the information about the roses. Even though it pissed off the entire flower industry, women need to be aware that he may be posing as a flower delivery person.”

In her usual direct way, Riley said, “So what’s the plan? How are we going to trap him?”

Noah stood and pulled down a map of London attached to the wall. “With ten of you and four targeted sections, we’re going to put two teams in one section and one each in the other three sections. You’ll make yourself as approachable and visible as possible but not so much that he suspects you’re anything other than a possible victim.”

“So this is basically a fishing expedition,” Aidan said.

“Right now, all we can do is fish. Bait the hook with what he desires most and then hopefully catch him.”

“And if he does take another victim before he kills the one he already has?” Shea asked.

If possible, Noah’s expression became grimmer. “Unfortunately, it may come down to allowing an abduction to take place. We’ll have to wait and see. If he takes the bait and we believe he still has a victim…” He shrugged. “The scenario will have to remain fluid. You’ll be issued jewelry with tracers in them. If you have to be taken, we’ll track and find you. And hopefully save another victim.”

Hands pressed against the table, Noah leaned forward and targeted each female operative with a hard, telling look. “That does not mean putting yourself in dire danger. If it comes down to a fight for survival, you take the bastard down, without hesitation. Understand?”

The room went strangely silent as if everyone was absorbing the gravity of the upcoming mission.

Angela felt Eden stiffen beside her. “I’m assuming we’re doing our usual pairing off but where’s Jake’s partner?”

If she had expected Noah to announce that Angela was now a field operative or Jake to proudly proclaim that she was his partner, she would have been sorely disappointed. Both men looked pointedly at her, waiting for her to make the announcement. That was fine with her. Though she had proven her worth numerous times with intel and obscure information it might take someone years to uncover, she had yet to prove herself in the field. But, as she did with everything else in her life, she was eager for the challenge.