01 Serial Killer (FBI Paranormal Casefiles) Page 7

  “You and me both. We’re going to nail that bastard or bitch.”

  He ran to keep up as I strode quickly. Not that I had a plan but I wanted to get home and start doing something. I could do some research. Sure, I could. I hated it. But if I didn’t do something, I would explode. The cold wind hit me as I pushed the door and got out. Instead of dissolving my resolve, the bitter winds only managed to strengthen it. The weather appeared to have taken a nosedive.

  Climate Change was a pain in the ass.

  We weren’t ready to give up as yet despite the odds against us – and that went for the murders as well as climate change.

  “Do you have any new ideas?” he asked.

  Zipping my jacket, I headed for the car and took out my key. After we sat in, I looked at him. “I have got…”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got…nothing. Ok. Nothing.”

  He smiled. “And this is bugging you because it has never happened before. You always have new ideas or a plan.”

  “Yes, it’s like this itch all over my body that that I can’t scratch. I hate it. There has to be something. There is always something.” I waved the key about. “The killer leaves a clue. I haven’t been able to see it.”

  “We all haven’t been able to see it. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “No, you don’t understand…I…what is it? What is it that we’re missing?”

  “If there was something there, we would have picked up. Maybe we just need to look at it in another way.”

  Sometimes the man didn’t make any sense. After jamming the key in, I turned on the ignition. “What do you mean? Like maybe I should lie down and then look at the crime scene?”

  His laughter made me madder. He just wasn’t taking it seriously. This was a personal battle now. I’d to make sure that Dubey’s name was cleared for once and for all. They would drag him off again if there were another murder. Even if Jones regretted it now, he would do it again if he thought there was even an iota of chance that Dubey could be the one.

  “No, I mean, consider possibilities that we dismissed out of hand. Like for example…we have been assuming that this guy is after those who have magic of some sort. Maybe it was just an accident that both those people…had magical abilities.”

  I snorted as we drove out of the parking lot. “Accident? I highly doubt that you can capture a grown werewolf without meticulous planning. This was a well-thought out killing, as was the first one. It can’t be done by someone who doesn’t have highly skilled magical powers.”

  “A hypnotist could do something like that.” He sighed. “I suppose we would just have to study the crime scene again. Let’s put the pictures up on a big screen. Maybe there is some small detail…” The car slid to a stop in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue. “Hey.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said we could put the pictures up…”

  I looked at him with my mouth hanging open. “No, about that hypnotist…what about that?”

  His eyebrows joined as he frowned. “I’ve heard of people who can sort of calm you down as they talk, and then they can control your movements, and stuff.”

  “That’s it. Bryan, you’re brilliant.”

  He appeared startled. “I am?”

  “Yes, you were right that we have to look at it in a different way. So far we have been assuming that this killer possessed strong magical skills, but what if he or she…is a normal person who has other strong powers, like hypnosis.”

  He eyed nervously, through the rearview mirror, the big, black truck that was barreling down the avenue. “Maybe. Possible.”

  With a slight shift of my hand, I gunned the car towards the farmhouse. This was it. I felt it in my bones. We were on to something major. “It has to be a hypnotist. He would have to be highly qualified to ensnare powerful people, but the question is…why would he want to do that?”

  “If what you said is true…”

  “What you said,” I emphasized. “This is your idea. You must take credit for it.” I was feeling generous now that we were on to something solid. This gave us a new direction. I could focus on this, work on this. Suddenly, this case was full of possibilities. “You did well.”

  “I don’t know what I did or didn’t do, but at least it is a new line of inquiry. If a hypnotist had such powers, he might theoretically be able to convince people that he wasn’t going to hurt them. He might make them move around like puppets, but why would he bite them? Why would he kill them?”

  This made perfect sense. A hypnotist could do what a mage couldn’t. Mind control was out of the realm of magical possibilities. Mages could manipulate elements but we didn’t have any control over the mind of others. Now, if a person theoretically possessed such powers, he or she could do anything.

  Sure, normally we didn’t give hypnotists much credit. But what if there was someone out there who possessed unbelievable powers?

  Such a person might nearly be invincible.

  “That’s what we have to figure out,” I said in response to Bryan’s questions as I gunned the car, hard and fast.

  We reached the farmhouse, and I parked the car. Both of us raced inside. Jasper was cleaning the foyer. Seeing us, he frowned. “I just finished mopping this damn area.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Oh yeah, you go and say sorry and make a mess for me,” he yelled.

  “My shoes are not that dirty,” I countered.

  So Colonel Sanders was gone for now. I would have to wait to let him know how and why he was entrapped.

  “Why don’t you try and do my job for a week and see how you feel?”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Jasper.” Right now, my attention was focused on the new lead Bryan dug out. Delightful as it was to verbally spar with Jasper, I didn’t have the time to do so.

  “Wait a minute,” he announced. “A delivery came in for you today.”

  “I didn’t order anything.”

  “It’s there.” He pointed at the round table that sat between two straight-backed chairs in one corner. “There is a card on it.”

  My gaze tripped to the crystal vase that sat atop the table. The gorgeous, white tulips, tinged with strong bursts of red, caught my attention. Flowers? I never remembered getting any – ever. How sad? But true. My first thought was it was some kind of a trick. “Did you check them for any magical spells?”

  “Augusta did, and she called Mark also to check,” he said as he wiped the broom across the floor. “She said you would be suspicious so I was to tell you that they are clean.”

  Flowers for me?

  Who would send them?

  With caution, I walked forward and reached the table. Well, they were gorgeous. Gingerly, I touched one. They didn’t contain any magic. I glanced at Bryan, but he shrugged. So it wasn’t him.

  “I didn’t realize tulips could be multi-colored,” I said.

  “They must be terribly expensive and rare,” said Bryan as he came to stand beside me. Was I reading too much in voice or was there a tinge of jealousy in his tone? “My mother is a horticulturist, and I know that such tulips come with a heavy price tag. They are probably imported.”

  Who would send me such wildly beautiful and gorgeous flowers in a crystal vase that likely cost as much as the tulips? Gingerly, I picked the card.

  To someone as rare as these tulips,

  Aaron Fine.

  I put the card down hastily as his words rang in my mind, but I was a few seconds too late, because Bryan bristled by my side. “Why the hell is he sending you flowers?”

  Hastily, I thrust the card in my pocket. It burned as a reminder of his words. The man sent me flowers. Why? I crept through his office without permission and threatened him, and he responded by sending me tulips that made my heart melt.

  Sure, he was up to something.

  “You broke and entered his office and gave him dire warnings, and this is how he responds. He is up to something,” said Bryan as if he could read my thoughts.


  I glared at him.

  For some reason, it made me mad to hear him say them.

  Couldn’t a man send me flowers just because?

  What the hell was his problem?

  Of course, I was also pretty sure that Aaron Fine had an ulterior motive for such a grand gesture, but I wasn’t about to admit it to Agent Bryan just now.

  “We have work to do,” I said, cutting off all conversations regarding the damned flowers.

  “What shall I do with these?” asked Jasper.

  “Just leave them here for now,” I said in a nonchalant voice.

  No matter how much I pretended otherwise, the tulips managed to soften my heart just a tiny bit. The man might be overbearing, pompous, and suspicious, but he sure had style.

  Together, we entered the library where my team was camped. “Jeremy, I need a new search.”

  He groaned. “My fingers are raw and bloody. My vision is blurry. There is nothing new, Cleo.”

  “No, I want you to change the search. Look for a human hypnotist, someone who is capable of making people do their bidding by manipulating their mind.”

  He stared at me, befuddled and confused by this new development. “But you said…”

  “Oh, I know what I said, but Bryan got this idea. And I think it has merit. Look for a hypnotist who is active in the city, maybe this state. If we find him or her, we might just find the killer.”

  He shrugged clearly not on the same page as me. But Jeremy was a detail-oriented person, and if there were a chance, he wouldn’t let it go. “Fine,” he huffed, just as I thought he might. “I’ll do my best.”

  I flopped on the chair and pulled a laptop towards me. We were really on to something here, and with this wedge in place, we would blow this case open.

  Aaron Fine’s card lay in my pocket, the message burned in my mind. And yet, I was determined to not think about his intentions behind the gesture, and his intentions regarding me.

  It was better to forget that he existed.

  Oh, yeah.

  Or die with the effort trying to forget him.

  Chapter Eight

  The light beige walls were devoid of any paintings. Calm, serene music played from hidden speakers, and water flowed down from the fountain that was placed in one corner. As I eased back into the comfortable, white couch, some of the tension that gripped me since last night eased. My muscles relaxed and my eyes began to drop.

  “You really need some rest,” said Bryan.

  My eyes popped open. He was sprawled on the couch opposite me. “It’s this damn music. Why does it have to be so…slow and…?”

  I couldn’t think of the right word.

  “Peaceful?” he suggested.

  “Oh, shut up. You haven’t had much sleep also.”

  “True. But I did manage to grab a few hours on the couch. You were on the laptop all night.”

  “Not all night.” Augusta came in around four in the morning and forcibly took all the laptops away. I managed to snatch a couple of hours. Or perhaps one hour. I was tired, blurry, and well…damn near exhausted. But I was on to something.

  I was like a dog with a bone.

  Not a good description, but an apt one.

  The door opened, and a man stepped out. He was tall, a bit on the chubby side. His dark eyes twinkled as he surveyed us. “Often I come out and find people asleep. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  It had been nearly impossible to get his appointment, and it was only when we mentioned that it was an official investigation did we manage to get fifteen minutes of his time.

  I stood and thrust out my hand. “I’m sorry to disturb you in the middle of a busy day, Dr. Smith, but we have come here for another reason. Special Agent Bryan is with the FBI, and I am a consultant.”

  “FBI, you say? I’m intrigued. Come in, please.” He stepped aside and we walked in. His office was similar in decor, except there was a large, mahogany desk and opposite it were two chairs. Next to the window were a chaise and a straight-backed chair. “Take your seats. So what is this about?”

  He was popular. Not only did he have a thriving practice but also he was a motivational speaker and had authored a number of books. One of them, Have the Life you want, was on the bestsellers list for seven weeks.

  We’d talked about how we want to approach this. Honesty seemed like the best policy, mostly because we wanted to see his reaction. When confronted with truth, most people faltered. “We’re here with regards to homicide investigations.”

  “Homicide? Investigations? As in plural?”

  “Yes, two people were killed.”

  He sat and gestured for us to take our seats. “Oh, and the FBI has this case because…”

  “One of the victims was from out of state.”

  Not true, of course. PDI was involved because it was an extraordinary case, but we couldn’t tell him that. Keep it basic. Keep it simple. That was what we were taught during our brief training at the PDI unit’s sessions.

  There was a spark in his eyes. The muscle on his cheek twitched as he leaned forward. “So what can I do for you? You want me to hypnotize the killer and see if he can recount details of that day?”

  “No.”

  He leaned back. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. You can’t believe how many times the police asks me to do it even though they know that it’s not really admissible in a court of law. I like to help people. I want to make this a better world. And honestly, getting into a killer’s mind, is not something I look forward to.”

  He so wasn’t the killer. The man oozed warmth. I could see him guiding others and helping them become better people. Disappointment engulfed him. I don’t quite know what I had hoped for.

  Oh hell!

  Who was I kidding?

  I’d expected a quick confession and an end to this nightmarish case.

  Since that was so obviously not going to happen, I would have to use this opportunity to gain some new insight into the case. “I was hoping you could tell us if it was possible for someone, someone with similar abilities as you, to hypnotize someone and make them docile to the point that they would allow their…handler to do anything.”

  A frown appeared on his forehead. My question seemed to disturb him. Perhaps he didn’t like the idea of his craft being used for such deadly, dangerous activities. “There is no one who has similar abilities as me. It’s not an arrogant statement. It’s just the truth. And what you have described is within the realm of possibility. That is what a hypnotist does. I can make a person walk off a cliff. I can make them sleep, I can wake them up. I can make them do something illegal, something dangerous.”

  Bryan moved a little bit on his seat. “You can do all that?”

  “Given the right circumstances, given the right person, yes. Not everyone is susceptible to hypnotism. Not everyone makes a good subject, but if the person has the right inclinations, if he is open to suggestions, then yes...I can sometimes do the impossible.”

  Mind control?

  Freaking crazy.

  Now we were on to something.

  “Who else beside you could do such a thing?” asked Bryan.

  He grimaced. Tapping his fingers on the desk, he thought hard. Anticipation clung to every part of my body. If only he could give us something really useful. I wanted to nail that killer. Oh yeah. Beside me, Bryan was still.

  “I’ve a couple of names. In this country? Or are you looking at international too? Because that would take some time. Some of the Europeans hypnotists are good too.”

  “For now, the locals would do.”

  “Alright. There is a woman in Chicago. She can do some good stuff. I’ve seen one of her live performances and she made people in the audience jump over chairs. One of them tried to fly. Good stuff. Her name is Elena Chapman. I’m afraid I don’t have her contact number or address.”

  “No need. We can look it up on Google.”

  “Ah! Google. What an invention. In my days, every bit of research had to be pain
stakingly collected from a library. It used to take days.” He shook his head. “But back to your question; there is another person. But he is…not that competent. Shady, yes. Skilled, no. I don’t think he could do something so intricate. Taking a person under control required the hypnotist to be very subtle. You have to layer in the effect so that the…shall we say, victim, doesn’t have an iota of fear, or doubt.”

  I nodded. “Who is he?”

  “Perry Fisher. He lives uptown and does shows at small clubs.”

  “And he is a hypnotist?”

  Smith grimaced. “He calls himself a motivational speaker, but yes…he has learnt hypnosis and he even practices it on stage. I really don’t think he is all that qualified.”

  He wasn’t giving us much. Perhaps he didn’t want to be the reason for getting those two into trouble, but that was our job. We had to look at these individuals. I glanced at Bryan. “There are some more questions.”

  “Oh, sure, sure. Shoot away.” He laughed. “Not literally, of course. Hmm. I suppose you wouldn’t tell me what this is all about.”

  “It’s classified,” said Bryan. He took out a notebook from his pocket. “Would you mind telling us where you were on these particular nights?” He gave the dates and wrote down the good doctor’s response. I was busy examining the place. Everything was in its proper place. Not a paper or a pen looked to be somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be. Even with his busy schedule the doctor managed to keep this place looking all neat and organized. I wasn’t so efficient. Augusta had to pull my ears to make me do chores.

  “I guess we’re done.” Bryan’s words startled me out of my train of thought. “We’ll get back to you if we have any more questions. Thank you for your time, and thanks for these leads.”

  “Leads.” He smiled again, his gaze skimming over me as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking. Was he a mind reader too? No, they didn’t exist. “I would be glad if something pans out, but really, I don’t think any of those could do what you think could have been done. Good luck, though.”

  “Thank you,” said Bryan. We walked out. “I guess we need to go to this Perry character, and then off to Chicago.”