Constant Motion: "Elusive"

“Elusive”

Issue #2

‘Interstate Killer’ – Part Two

By Charley Biggs

Tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up, it was not even noon, but Jim Thornton and Smith were both deep into the information from the Reno killing. Papers were scattered everywhere on the conference room table, laid out in a complex ordering as they tried to compartmentalize the information. Reaching for a cup of coffee, it was Smith that spoke, Jim bent over a report taking notes.

“Thorney, these reports are two weeks old”

“Yep”

“That’s a problem…”

“Yeah, big one. Anyone tell Gomez yet?”

Smith was about to speak when a voice sounded from the door, “Tell me what?”

Both men looked up from the table, and Jim started looking around for his coffee mug, which had migrated across the conference room table over the course of the morning. Though as he walked over to it, he shrugged, “The Reno killing was delayed reporting. However, we aren’t sure why they sat on it”

Smith cringed, taking a seat, and held his peace.

“What?! How delayed?”, Gomez asked, entering the conference room to stand over Smith’s shoulder, fingering the corner of a report to read the date closer. Frowning with disgust, she threw up her hands, “Ugh! Great! Are we sure this one is even related?”

Jim had a mouthful of coffee when this question was asked, and so it was Smith to the rescue, “Yes. Same round, same profile…the delay might have been that they discovered the body days after the actual shooting, however, we can’t be certain, the site of the shooting was out in the middle of nowhere almost to Fernley”

“Gomez, you know how it is…”, Jim said from across the room, then he tipped his cup toward her, “Looking very nice today…I take it you’re trying to sell Valentine on a road trip?”

Wearing a business suit and a white blouse and a pair of patent heels, Maria was very nicely dressed, and had even gone above and beyond with her makeup beyond the usual light touch ups. She colored slightly and pursed her lips before she rested her hands on her hips, “It can’t hurt, Jim. You got anything I can use as ammo?”

“Yeah”, Jim told her, setting the coffee mug down, “Don’t sell her on Reno, it’s a pointless trip. We need to go back to Fort Wayne…”

“..and Utica?”

Smith piped up, raising a finger, “Actually, that one doesn’t fit the profile. I’ll know for certain by the end of the day, but I believe that was a false alarm”

“Okay, so basically we are hinging this thing on Fort Wayne, the location with the least evidence”

Jim raised a hand, hanging his head and shaking it, “Not quite…maybe no physical evidence, but it’s the break in the pattern…”

“Motive too…it might have been a hometime location”, Smith added.

“Okay, but what about the brokers?”

Jim ripped a piece of paper off of a notepad, walking it to Gomez, “We need these items listed on a warrant to search their records. They are being stubborn, and we need that info to be sure”

Taking the list, Maria shook her head, “Jim, we can’t issue that many warrants at once”

“Actually, there are a few precedents”, Smith said, and then he picked up his own steno pad and handed the whole thing to her, “Use that. They can’t argue the logic, it’s sound. Thorney is right, we need that information, or our killer will remain at large without a way to track them”

“Trucks these days have GPS, but the companies they work for, even temporarily, keep those records close to the chest. Hell, if the shooter is using a permanent gps tag, we might be able to nail them the next time they deviate.”

“Molly Johns…”, Gomez said slowly, looking between the two men.

“For now, nothing on her. She wasn’t out west for Reno, however, she is still a possible witness. We’re still working it. If we pull her off the highway, we have to be sure”

“Smith’s right, she’s a bit of a flight risk, and we can’t detain her if we don’t have a damn good reason. I’m not so sure the broker didn’t tell her anyway. We will find out”

“But what about our new theory?”, Gomez crossed her arms, and both men hid grins, Jim hiding his face behind his coffee mug as Gomez smirked, “Grow up boys…”, though she wasn’t serious, “Are we truly sure that this looks like a grudge?”

“Absolutely”, Smith got out of his chair and walked around to the white board they had been using, on it were listed characteristics, one was a list of characteristics for a grudge killing, and that was what he pointed to, “The targets. We should have picked up on this sooner, but it went right by us. Even for someone with a psychological fixation, this is really really specific. If I didn’t know any better, I would say our list of victims are actually unwitting wrong targets”

“Wrong targets? You mean you think the killer is looking for someone specific and these guys look close enough?”, Maria asked.

Nodding, Smith glanced at Jim, whom sat down in a chair and gave him a signal to continue, then he turned back to Gomez, “That’s just the thing, these young men all look similar. From a distance? Identical. It’s possible that the actual target knows who the shooter is and would recognize them if they were in sight. Thus the use of a rifle like the three-oh-eight...the shooter probably goes and checks to see if it was the right target…”

“This is the weirdest explanation you could ever hope to come up with, Smith. It makes no sense…”

“Crimes of passion rarely do, Maria”, Jim took a sip of coffee, one ankle propped on his knee, “This person…they are pissed off, obsessive, careful, but not too precise. They leave shell casings, but like a good hunter, cover their tracks. They know what their target looks like from afar, but not up close, almost like a blind date gone awry. This whole thing is weird…but it’s only a theory. Our killer could just have an obsession with young blonde haired men. Our killer could have the strangest timing ever and just dislike truck drivers, but like a shitty lottery, only finds blonde haired young men…”

“Or aliens could be speaking directly into the head of our killer, blah blah and so much and so forth”, Maria finished, “Jim, I know where you’re going with this. But we need something sound”

“For the moment, the psycho theory isn’t fitting the psycho profile…not with how specific it is”, Smith pointed out, “It was Thorney that saw through it”

Taking in a shaky breath, Maria shook her head, “I’m not playing the odds this early in the day guys”, letting her arms fall to her sides, she shook her head, “We are just going to have to keep looking for better reasons…a scorned lover is just too far fetched for my mind”, with that she turned on a heel and left the conference room.

“I thought it was good”, Smith muttered.

“Not political good though…we aren’t fighting with logic. We are fighting with politics”, then Jim pointed, “Hand me that report the body…let’s go over what we saw again…”

***

Later that evening, all three Deputies were still in the office, the two men identically dressed down as they had been, and Gomez sans her coat, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and padding about in her stockings as she wrote on the board. Jim was staying sitting now, a cold cup of coffee at his hand as he was looking over photos from the scene in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Smith was standing, bent over the table, reading off a list of characteristics from his notes as Gomez transposed them onto the white board.

Finally, as the other two completed, their list, Thornton looked up, and shook his head, “This still doesn’t look like a psychopath, however, I’m inclined to agree with Gomez that we need more than circumstantial evidence and a vague psych profile…ideas?”

Gomez stiffly moved to sit in a chair and propped her feet up on the table, her hands toying with the marker as she considered it. But it was Smith that looked up and spoke, “Depends on what we can get ahold of…any news on those warrants?”, he asked Gomez.

“Not yet, but be prepared it could take weeks…in the meantime, we’re going to need to go take a look at Fort Wayne again. Turns out the sketch didn’t reveal a face…but we do have a new piece of info”

Jim leaned forward, and pushed a piece of paper with a sketch on it that was paper clipped to a transcript of the description, Smith took it and read through it, then looked between the two senior Deputies, “So we are certain it’s a woman?”

“Or something shaped like one”, this from Jim, whom was grinning into his coffee mug.

“Shut up and be serious!”, Gomez giggled, chucking the marker at Thornton, making him almost choke on his coffee, banging his chest with a fist to get air back into his lungs as all three of them laughed.

Finally, as the levity died down, Gomez raised her hands, “Alright, Smith, go home. Jim, let’s pack all this up. We’re going to hit the road and go stay in Fort Wayne”

Smith grabbed his coat and readied to leave, and Jim stood up, “Let’s take Smith with us…he could use a chance to get out of the office, besides, I think we have another case coming down”

Gomez grimaced, “I was going to talk to you about that later…”

Smith raised his hands, “How about I just go for the night and you catch me in the morning?”, he asked, bleary eyed, and uncomfortable imposing on the two longtime partners. As he watched the silent exchange go on between Thornton and Gomez, he started backing out of the room.

“Smith, do me a favor and start packing”, Jim said, and then he nodded to the door to step out into the nearly deserted bull pen where they could talk.

Gomez stood and lightly padded out behind her old partner, and met him at their desks where he was perched on the edge of his, coffee mug cradled in his right hand. Crossing her arms, she stood, resting her right foot over her left, “Jim, I was going to talk it out after Smith left…”

“Thin walls, Maria…besides, we can’t sit on only one case, and we both knew that”, he pointed out, taking a sip of cold coffee.

Hanging her head, she nodded, “I know…”, then she raised her eyes to meet his, “We can go over it in the morning. Smith would better serve us here”

“Smith needs time out in the field or his career is going to tank. We are up for desk jobs soon…or at least I know you are, he needs a chance…”, trailing off he shrugged.

“…and you aren’t feeling up to par…are you?”

Jim rolled his shoulders with a frown, looking away as he spoke, “Just not getting any younger”

At this, Maria planted her feet and rested a hand on his shoulder, “You can’t be the ‘Wildman’ forever, Jim. I know how you feel though…”, she let her hand fall away before running both hands through her hair, looking at the ceiling, “I’m almost forty…it’s getting harder to keep up. That desk job can’t get here fast enough!”

“Tell me about it…”, Jim agreed, “I’m not far behind you…and I’ve been told that as long as I keep my nose clean, I’m up for Quincy’s old desk”

Gomez blinked, “Seriously? You’d stay here?”, she asked, trying to hide her excitement.

Looking at her with a hard grin, he nodded, “That’s the plan…hence why I’m pushing hard to mentor Smith. He needs the exposure”, then he gestured, “Bullshit aside though, what’s this new case?”

“Human trafficking”, Gomez said hesitantly.

“That’s FBI territory…”, then Jim’s jaw dropped, “SHIT!”

Looking around suddenly, hands up, Maria glared at Jim, “Keep your voice down!”, then she let her hands drop, “Yeah...I know. I had lunch with her today”

“You didn’t shoot her?”

“No…I did not shoot her. But she did ask about you”

“Tell her I was dead?”

Gomez grinned evilly, “I told her you missed her”

Jim took on a sour look, muttering out of the side of his mouth comically, “Bitch!”

Shoving him playfully, Gomez nodded back to the conference room, “I’ll fill you in, your turn to drive me home anyhow, let’s get Smith out of here so we can call it a night”

“You’re the boss”

***

The parking garage that was attached to the apartment building Gomez lived in was well lit, and quiet, save for the rumbling of a 460 ci V-8 as Jim’s old Plymouth Fury cruised it’s way through to find a nearby guest spot. When the car stopped, Maria looked over at her partner, the back of her hand rested against his bicep, “Jim, why don’t you come in?”, she offered quietly, knowing that he was always hesitant to invade her space.

As per the usual, Jim shook his head, but she tapped his bicep again with the back of her hand, and he looked her in the eye, looking harassed and indecisive.

“Jim…I go to your place all the time. Besides, we can talk over our case load…have a drink?”, she offered. Jim was starting to lean towards telling her to ‘go on and he’d take her up another time’, but Maria wasn’t having it. Reaching across him, she turned the key, shutting the engine off, and pulled his keys out, palming them, “Jim, I’m taking you hostage. Stop being weird, we’ve been partners for seven years, come on…”, and with that, she stepped out with a clatter of heels and left him sitting there.

Irritably, Jim reached over and locked the other door, then locked his own as he got out so that he could follow. Making the elevator just in time, he glanced over at her, “You really know how to piss people off, you know that?”

Grinning triumphantly, Maria bounced on her toes as she waited for her floor, “Well…you do make it very easy”

Jim just snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding her for the moment. He had always kept his distance, he liked his house because it was bland, he didn’t have to be open to everyone to be able to host, it was a good neutral ground. If he wanted something private, he kept it locked. Of course, when it came to Maria, he trusted her…but there were some parts of his relationship with her he rather liked keeping in his head.

As they reached her floor, Maria stepped forward and led the way, fishing out her keys and letting herself in, leaving the door open for Jim to follow. Not sure what to expect, Jim had a pleasant surprise as he entered a space that was neatly organized, sparse, and void of decoration save for a wall for her awards, Maria’s apartment was much like her desk…and like his house.

Maria noticed Jim’s look, and chuckled, waving a hand to it, “If I spent more time here, I’d decorate, but as you so aptly reminded me when we met, we live our work…”, setting her purse down, and emptying her holster and badge out, and even removing her ankle holster, she laid everything neatly on the counter in the kitchen, and then pointed to a bar she had set up across the room, “Make yourself a drink, and pour me one…I’m going to change”, and with that, Jim was left standing alone in her living room.

Taking his suit coat off, but leaving his shoulder holster on, he walked over to the front door to turn the deadbolt out of habit, then he walked to the bar, folding his coat neatly over the back of one of the stools before walking behind the bar to search through what she had. Not quite as wide a selection as he kept, Maria had a few gems among her liquor, and it wasn’t long before he had selected a single malt, and two glasses, and was searching for ice. Surprised to find whiskey stones instead, he put two each in the glasses and poured two fingers of scotch for each of them, taking both glasses in hand, he was about to rest them on the bar when Maria rejoined him, dressed down comfortably in a black sports bra and matching sweatpants, her hair pulled back into a loose pony tail.

Accepting her glass, Maria, took the other stool whilst Jim took a seat behind the bar. “So…talk to me about the case we have now. Valentine had a lot to say it seems”, Jim began.

After a sip of scotch, Maria nodded, “A lot is about the sum of it. The Director is getting pressure from the FBI to hand this case over completely”

Swirling his glass for a moment, Jim shook his head, “No chance of a joint operation?”

“Not a chance…this case is quiet now, but that’s not going to last too much longer. Truckers talk…”

“But not to us. We’ve got to get through to those brokers…”

“There’s hope that the judge will act fast…hope, but no guarantee”, sighing, she sat her glass down, resting her face in her hands, “Jim, I’m out of ideas…this case makes no sense to me…the killer is faceless. This is so…odd”

“Tell me about it”, though Jim took a sip and considered it for a long time, and they sat in silence. After a long pause, Jim finally spoke, slowly and thoughtfully as he stared at Maria, “If it is a crime of passion, perhaps the killer snapped…now I know it’s nothing to go on, however, all of the men look similar; like the killer is seeking an individual, or trying to stamp out the memory of an individual. A psycho with a vendetta…am I making sense?”

“You are”, Maria said, sitting up, though she held her free hand palm up, using her bare feet to grip the rung on the stool and shift her weight, “However…we need a way to find the pattern”

“Fort Wayne. Fort Wayne is not a popular spot save for Intermodals and some dry freight places according to Smith, and it’s off the pattern. I’m thinking she went home…we need to look at people taking home time in Fort Wayne. It’s our best option”

“Molly Johns?”

“For now, our best suspect, but she’s looking like she won’t be viable…Reno was not hers, she was nowhere near it…as far as we know”

“Could she take a detour?”

“Not easily…but then again, if she knew how, she could disable the GPS…but we still need the brokers”

“Jim, we might not get them…”

Thornton held up a hand, “If we don’t, and this is what I reminded Valentine before you talked with her, then we will be waiting for the sloppy kill…and so far, it’s not looking good. We can’t launch a manhunt for a faceless individual”

“I told her that, but that’s not the issue, the FBI can get access easier than we can, and they are gaining more traction every day we don’t make progress. We’re going to end up handing it off…”

“Not yet…I have a few thoughts, but I need to wait until we get to Fort Wayne…”

“Not going to tell me?”

“Not until I’m sure it’s viable, no”, Jim told her, taking another sip.

Twisting her lips in a frown, Maria eyed him for a long time, and then gestured for him to come around to her side of the bar. After he did, looking a little confused, she reached a hand out, stopping halfway, “Does it…does it hurt still?”, she asked softly.

Jim winced at the question, and shook his head, “Nah…don’t feel a thing”, he lied. Maria saw through it, and Jim could see she knew he was lying.

“Can I see?”, she asked slowly. This time, she took a gulp, steadying herself for it. She hadn’t seen his scars…only the initial wounds, and at that time, it had been utter chaos.

Jim grimaced, but he sat the glass down and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling his tie off and draping it over his suit coat. As the shirt opened to reveal his wife beater, he used a finger to draw the cloth back and away to reveal three nasty entry wounds close together, close enough that he could cover them with one hand…almost. “Looks worse than it is”

Maria didn’t agree with his assessment. As she looked at the scars, her lips parting slowly, breath quickening, her mind could still see them flowing with blood and Jim pale, barely conscious laying on the dirty floor several feet from the young man whom ad shot him. Slowly, her outstretched hand reached the rest of the way to his chest, warm fingertips running over the smooth scar tissue. Her mouth tightened, her other hand came up, fingers touching her chin.

Jim knew that look, and he stepped back, letting the shirt cover the scars again as he buttoned his dress shirt back up.

“I’m sorry Jim…I’m so sorry”, Maria whispered thickly as tears began to form, her hand now covering her mouth as she fought to keep herself composed, a fight she was slowly losing.

Finishing with the shirt quickly, Jim shook his head, “Don’t be…it wasn’t your fault. We’ve been over this…”

“Damnit Jim! It should have been me!”, she shouted, tears now flowing down her cheeks, “I should have checked that door and I didn’t! I should have been the one that got hurt, not you!”

Holding his hands up, he kept shaking his head, “No! Goddamnit no! You couldn’t have known! HELL! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW!”, he yelled, “No one could have…”, he said, this time quieter, aware they were in an apartment, “We were preoccupied with the guys that spotted us. A raid like that is chaotic, we didn’t even know that was a damn door until it opened. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either”, he pointed out, and he stepped forward to place his hands on her shoulders, “Even if you had, I would have stepped up…it’s my job to back up my partner. I would not have wanted that to be you”

Shaking her head, and not looking at him, Maria was looking at the floor where his polished black shoes stood apart from her bare feet, the wood floor beneath dark and worn, but clean. She felt like she had failed him as a partner, and as a Marshal, and he was too stubborn to see the facts.

“Look. I trust you with my life…I have not had a single reason not to. Still don’t. You’re my partner, Maria...”

Taking a shuddering breath, she looked up at him with red rimmed eyes, and without her makeup she looked tired. Jim could see now that she hadn’t been sleeping.

“Get some rest…real rest”, but when he went to pull away, she gripped his forearm.

Stopped, Jim didn’t move, and Maria looked at him, wiping her eyes, “Can you just stay for a little while?”

Jim gave her a pained expression, and he considered it, but he finally shook his head, “I need to rest too…go to sleep. Tomorrow’s another day…”, Maria released him, but he saw fresh tears, and he stepped close to her, resting a hand on her shoulder, “What happened was just bad timing. It’s over now…and everything is fine. I’m fine…and you’re fine. Just try and get some rest…and don’t beat yourself up so much”

“I know…I just…I want you to be safe, Jim”, she said slowly.

“That’s not possible in our line of work, you know that. I know that. We accept it and live with it”, he told her.

“How do you stay so detached?”, she asked.

“I don’t get too close…”, he told her, looking troubled.

Maria stared at him, a flood of hidden emotion swirling in her dark eyes as she watched him. He saw it, and unsure he wanted to know, he retrieved his coat and gave her a very detached pat on the back.

“See you in the morning…”, and with that said, he headed for the door.

“Yeah…see you”, Maria said, watching him leave. Reaching over the bar, she took the bottle and uncorked it, sniffling softly as she poured herself a full glass.

***

In Fort Wayne, the sky was overcast, and the weather service was calling for rain later in the day. Already the afternoon, the breeze was picking up as Gomez, wearing sunglasses and carrying a cup of coffee, stood back listening as Thornton and Smith went over the actions of the shooting piece by piece animatedly. Last night’s conversation had been blessedly ‘forgotten’ by Jim as he bantered with Smith and helped to keep things moving along, and surprisingly as she sipped on her now cold coffee, she could see a clear picture coming together.

“This wasn’t random”, Jim said loudly, throwing up his hands, “This woman…person…individual…whatever we want to label them, was here for another purpose. Look at the location! Not the side of a highway with places to hide! She had to track all over town to find the one place with quick and easy roof access!”, he said pointing to the roof.

Before Jim could continue, Smith excitedly followed, mimicking Jim’s hand gestures as he looked between them, “So she sees this guy”, at a sharp glance from Jim clears his throat and tries again, “So they see this guy…”, he pauses and gives Jim a long stare that makes Jim snort, trying to hide a grin behind his hand, “Believes he is, or has the characteristics of her target, being an intermodal driver, he has to live close or in the region, and this spurs them to act more quickly than usual, without a clear plan, and instead of shooting him on the highway, finds out where he’s headed, and beats him out here where they have a wide view and easy shots…”

Nodding, Gomez sighs, “…and this is where the young man get’s killed. Now we just need that info on who might have been coming home that day”

Jim spun in her direction, “Right! Call Valentine?”, he suggested.

“No!”, Gomez snapped, wishing she hadn’t and rubbing her temple, “She will call us…”

Shrugging, Smith looked around, “So…if we knew who the individual was…we could just set up a target for them where they ought to be…”

“…and get that person killed!”, Gomez said sharply.

Raising a hand, shaking it quickly, Jim interjected, closing the gap between the three of them, “Hang on to that thought…actually, Smith has a great point. As long as the target is wearing body armor…every shot has been to center mass. Every. Single. Time.”

Nodding, Smith spread his hands, “We even have a perfect dummy…”, he began, though Jim cut him off.

“I’ll put on a wig…I need you more athletic people on the ground watching for a muzzle-“

“NO!”, Gomez yelled, pointing at Jim, “You will NOT play target”, and then to correct herself, she pointed at both men in alternation, “Neither of you!”

“Now Maria…”’, Jim began, but they all went silent when Gomez’s phone rang.

“This is Gomez…”, she said. Listening, she started nodding quickly, a smile forming. “Got it. Send an e-mail, and I’ll check on it at the hotel”, ending the call, she pointed to the car, “Pack it in gentlemen, we got our list!”

“Any stand out individuals?”, Jim asked as they headed for the car.

“We’ll find out…and better yet…we now have GPS tags and a way to track the drivers”

“That could take a while…”, Smith said slowly.

Gomez turned her head, looking over the rim of her sunglasses, “It’s a short list, Smith…we’ve got fifteen people, six of them women…and per my side request, we have two of those women whom have hunting licenses and firearm registrations”

“Holy hell…”, Jim whispered.

“Let me guess, those two have three-oh-eight bolt action rifles?”, Smith asked hopefully.

“Exactly…we’re getting warm, gentlemen…we’re getting warm”

To be continued…

Stay tuned for the next story in the series to be posted next on Thursday on 09 July!

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