not the ‘out of control badass’ Cookie Kutter would have people believe.”
“You watch that show?”
Rainey laughed and fibbed a little. “No, but Katie does. She says she likes to know what the enemy is up to. I can always tell when Cookie uses that clip of Katie punching her. That pisses her off, but between you and me, I think Katie’s glad she did it.”
Sheila chuckled. “I can’t help it. I love that clip. I saved it to my computer for days when I’d like to do something similar to Ms. Kutter.”
Rainey smiled at her friend. “Me too, but Katie doesn’t know.”
“Well, let’s get you back home to your Valentine’s weekend. I know last year’s plans were a bust.”
“I made no plans this year. I didn’t want to jinx it. Katie is in charge, and I am blissfully ignorant of what lies in store.”
“Just remember to take your weapon. You, of all people, can never be too prepared.”
“Always,” Rainey answered absently, refocused on the room. “Okay, back to business. This is a straight up fetish burglary with sadistic tones. The note is meant to extend his terror. But, there is nothing new here, nothing to learn, other than he’s treading water.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s bored. The patrols slowed him down but haven’t stopped him. I don’t think this is regression, though. I think he’s planning his next step up the sadistic ladder. This guy is a thinker. He has a fantasy—he fulfills it. He moves on to the next fantasy, seeking a higher high each time. It took him two years to build up to what he did to Shayna Carson. He spent more time with her than the others, extending her suffering as long as possible. He appears to be going through sexual sadist school, but if you look at the last four months, he leapt from middle school to college. Postgraduate work is next. Keep an eye out for missing women.”
“He’s not a kidnapper,” Sheila countered.
“He wants more time. He needs more time, more privacy, a chance to focus only on his victim without fear of interruption. He has a private place. I bet it’s near those Chatham County scenes down by the river. That’s how you’ll find him. Locate the lair. I’d deploy deputies in that area, account for all the residents. You’re looking for a man who visits, but doesn’t live there. Locate the owners of vacated structures and seasonally occupied homes, hunting cabins, fish camps, anywhere a lone man would go unnoticed.”
“Women go missing all the time. How will we know he took her?”
“Victimology should at least give you a clue. She’ll be white, twenty-five to forty-five, live alone on a property near the woods, and if he is the planner I believe him to be, she will have no close relatives or friends that would notice her weekend absence.”
Rainey pulled the latex gloves from her hands and locked eyes with Sheila.
“Realistically? You will know when you find the body.”
#
8:15 PM, Saturday, February 21, 2015
A Place For Us Charity Ball
Feme Sole Nightclub, Durham, NC
Rainey leaned against the wall near the entrance as the woman she adored stepped into the center stage spotlight. The large women's bar inside a former tobacco warehouse was decorated to fit the refinement of the evening. Diamonds and jewels glinted at every table in the dimly lit hall. Hundreds of haute couture wearing guests with exceedingly deep pockets sat at elegantly decorated tables. The bar owner, Phyllis, stood nearby, grinning at the stage. She too had been placed under the spell of the beautiful blonde at the microphone.
Katie had called out the country club set and the left-leaning movers and shakers in the Triangle area. They were there to raise money for homeless LGBTQ youth. Kids were on the street because parents threw them out or made life a living hell from which escape was the only means of survival. Molly Kincaid, Rainey’s friend, lawyer, and sometime employer recruited Katie to head the fundraising campaign
“You watch that show?”
Rainey laughed and fibbed a little. “No, but Katie does. She says she likes to know what the enemy is up to. I can always tell when Cookie uses that clip of Katie punching her. That pisses her off, but between you and me, I think Katie’s glad she did it.”
Sheila chuckled. “I can’t help it. I love that clip. I saved it to my computer for days when I’d like to do something similar to Ms. Kutter.”
Rainey smiled at her friend. “Me too, but Katie doesn’t know.”
“Well, let’s get you back home to your Valentine’s weekend. I know last year’s plans were a bust.”
“I made no plans this year. I didn’t want to jinx it. Katie is in charge, and I am blissfully ignorant of what lies in store.”
“Just remember to take your weapon. You, of all people, can never be too prepared.”
“Always,” Rainey answered absently, refocused on the room. “Okay, back to business. This is a straight up fetish burglary with sadistic tones. The note is meant to extend his terror. But, there is nothing new here, nothing to learn, other than he’s treading water.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s bored. The patrols slowed him down but haven’t stopped him. I don’t think this is regression, though. I think he’s planning his next step up the sadistic ladder. This guy is a thinker. He has a fantasy—he fulfills it. He moves on to the next fantasy, seeking a higher high each time. It took him two years to build up to what he did to Shayna Carson. He spent more time with her than the others, extending her suffering as long as possible. He appears to be going through sexual sadist school, but if you look at the last four months, he leapt from middle school to college. Postgraduate work is next. Keep an eye out for missing women.”
“He’s not a kidnapper,” Sheila countered.
“He wants more time. He needs more time, more privacy, a chance to focus only on his victim without fear of interruption. He has a private place. I bet it’s near those Chatham County scenes down by the river. That’s how you’ll find him. Locate the lair. I’d deploy deputies in that area, account for all the residents. You’re looking for a man who visits, but doesn’t live there. Locate the owners of vacated structures and seasonally occupied homes, hunting cabins, fish camps, anywhere a lone man would go unnoticed.”
“Women go missing all the time. How will we know he took her?”
“Victimology should at least give you a clue. She’ll be white, twenty-five to forty-five, live alone on a property near the woods, and if he is the planner I believe him to be, she will have no close relatives or friends that would notice her weekend absence.”
Rainey pulled the latex gloves from her hands and locked eyes with Sheila.
“Realistically? You will know when you find the body.”
#
8:15 PM, Saturday, February 21, 2015
A Place For Us Charity Ball
Feme Sole Nightclub, Durham, NC
Rainey leaned against the wall near the entrance as the woman she adored stepped into the center stage spotlight. The large women's bar inside a former tobacco warehouse was decorated to fit the refinement of the evening. Diamonds and jewels glinted at every table in the dimly lit hall. Hundreds of haute couture wearing guests with exceedingly deep pockets sat at elegantly decorated tables. The bar owner, Phyllis, stood nearby, grinning at the stage. She too had been placed under the spell of the beautiful blonde at the microphone.
Katie had called out the country club set and the left-leaning movers and shakers in the Triangle area. They were there to raise money for homeless LGBTQ youth. Kids were on the street because parents threw them out or made life a living hell from which escape was the only means of survival. Molly Kincaid, Rainey’s friend, lawyer, and sometime employer recruited Katie to head the fundraising campaign
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