10
It Had to be You
A/N: This chapter should answer some questions floating out there. There's some signing but it's not ASL. That wasn't my experience.
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Chapter 11
Jeff's parting words had haunted her waking moments. Maybe he wouldn't hurt her but would he…could he hurt Bobby in some way? She couldn't take that chance. Having made up her mind, she'd dropped into Terry's office.
"Yeah?"
"I'm quitting," she'd announced abruptly.
"What?" Flabbergasted, Terry had just stared at her.
"I'm leaving Chicago."
"Why?" When she hadn't answered, he'd stared at her as an inkling of the reason formed in his mind. "This has something to do with that creep Jeff, doesn't it?"
Silence had been her response.
"Did he threaten you?"
"He said…he said he'd never hurt me."
"He'd better not!"
"But I think…I think he might hurt Bobby," she'd said quietly "Those pictures…I think they were a warning."
"For God's sake, Sue, the guy works for the FBI!" Terry had bellowed. "He should know how to take care of himself!"
"I can't take the chance, Terry."
"So you're running away?"
"It's not running away."
"Then what do you call what you're doing?"
"Protecting someone I care about. If I stay away from Bobby…move away from Chicago, maybe Jeff will forget me and get on with his life."
"And what if this Bobby guy moves on, too?"
"Doesn't matter," Sue had stubbornly decided. "I don't want anything to happen to him. I couldn't live with myself if it did."
"You do know I think you're nuts."
"What's new?" she'd replied wryly. "In any case, I'm giving you my two week notice."
Terry had seen the set of her jaw and knew she wouldn't be changing her mind any time soon.
"Do you know where you're going?"
"I haven't really thought about it."
"Well then," he'd said after a moment, "I have a friend who has a pastry shop. Needs someone. Her baker's being deployed to Iraq for a year. National Guard. Wanna try it?"
"Okay." Anywhere, she thought, just to get away.
"I'll make the call."
And so, with Terry's help, she had a new life in a new city. Ironically it was in Washington, DC. Terry had neglected to mention that little fact when he'd told her about the job. Once she'd known, she initially refused to go. But Terry had been adamant.
"You wanted to move to another city…you're moving to another city. You wanted a new job…you have a new job. What more do you want? Besides, I already told her you're coming," he'd said flatly. "You can't leave Janice high and dry."
"But, Terry!"
"Hey! DC is a big city with thousands and thousands of people. What are the chances of you running into each other?"
The chances had increased when Sue discovered where the shop was located. It was three blocks away from the Hoover building. At first, Sue was hesitant to venture out afraid she would run into Bobby. But, as the days and weeks went by, she realized Terry had been right—DC was filled with people and chances of running into Bobby were slim.
Three months later, life had assumed a certain rhythm—and she missed Bobby every single one of those days.
"Janice," Sue called out as she held a box of pastries. "I'm taking the pastries to the homeless shelter."
"Fine," smiled Janice. "Are you staying awhile?"
"It's my day to help serve dinner."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
Janice donated the shop's day old pastries to a homeless shelter located a short distance away. Since moving to DC, Sue had taken over the job of delivering the goodies whenever she could and volunteered her time there as well.
"Hi, Mark!" said Sue as she entered the shelter.
"Sue!" grinned the shelter's director. "You're looking very pretty today."
"You're only saying that because I'm carrying this box full of pastries," she kidded him.
"It's only a tiny part of your charm," he assured her. "Is it your day to volunteer?"
She nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Good. Maybe we can have a cup of coffee after."
"I'd like that," she smiled.
"It's a date," he said warmly.
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"The latest victim is William Turner," Jack stated as he tapped the fourth photo. "Age 40, retired twenty year Army vet. That's one of the reasons why Metro was able to ID him so quickly. His prints were on file. Present address unknown."
D looked dubious. "And Metro thinks a serial killer is involved because…?"
"Because this one makes number four," shared Bobby. "All of the victims have been located within a hundred mile radius. All were homeless. They all had some kind of substance abuse problem and they've all died of a heart attack.
"What makes the police think it's not a heart attack?" asked a skeptical Myles. "After all, it's not unusual for drug addicts or alcoholics to die from one. There's a price to pay when you abuse your body like that."
"True," agreed Bobby. "However, in this last case, the body was apparently found very soon after death. The young eagle-eyed medical assistant noted a fresh needle mark. To their surprise, toxicology showed ten times the normal therapeutic levels of digitalis in the victim's system, not heroin."
"Digitalis?" asked Lucy. "Isn't that used to treat some types of heart conditions?"
"Give the lady a cigar!" applauded Jack pointing at Lucy. "However, in this case, because of the relative youth of the victim, the ME was a little suspicious. While not unknown, it is unusual for a man that age to keel over from a stroke."
"So how did Metro come to the conclusion that it's a serial killer?" asked D. "There doesn't seem to be enough evidence to support their theory."
"They went through their records and found three more cases of homeless men with digitalis in their systems at the time of death. However, since these involved men in their late fifties and sixties and known substance abusers, the ME didn't suspect digitalis as the cause for death," Bobby stated.
"So the killer made a mistake," observed Tara.
"Yup," agreed Jack.
"But not a big enough one for us to catch him," said Lucy.
"Nope."
Myles was listening but a tiny part of his brain was occupied with a problem. "I'm assuming the first three victims looked their ages and more."
"The point being…?" Bobby began.
"The point being that this William Turner must have looked really old if he was only forty. Look at us—specimens in the prime of life. We're nearing that age but none of us looking a day over thirty-five." Myles would be turning forty this year.
"Thanks," smiled D sardonically. He'd just had his forty-second birthday.
"Hey!" said Tara. "Speak for yourself! I'm not thirty-five."
"I think he meant the guys, Tara," Jack placated her.
She sniffed. "In that case, okay," she said mollified.
"Any description?"
Jack and Bobby shook their heads.
"We're working blind here," Myles pointed out. "What does Metro expect of us? We're not miracle workers."
"I don't think they know that," said Jack lightly.
"How come there hasn't been anything in the media?" questioned D.
"The harsh glare of the media does not descend when a homeless person dies," Bobby stated. "All you get is a line or two in the newspaper in the police beat."
"So what do we do?" asked Lucy as she looked around at the team.
"Look over what Metro PD has," began Jack, "and see if we can spot anything they've missed."
"I think a psychological profile of the killer might be useful in this case," suggested Myles.
"Good thinking," commended Jack. "Who's available in profiling?"
"I can check for you," offered Lucy.
"Thanks," smiled Jack. "In the meantime, Tara, if you could compile a list of known homeless shelters within a fifty mile radius of where the victims were found, that would be a start. If we need to, we'll expand the target area. Lucy can help after she gets off the phone. D and Myles, if you could interview the shelters closest to the first two victims Bobby and I will take the other two."
Immediately, the place was a whirlwind of action as everyone followed through on their instructions. They hoped they'd be able to prevent another murder.
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"Our clientele looks forward to your donations," smiled Mark. "Gives them a little variety in their diet."
"I'll be sure to tell Janice," said Sue.
"One of the men said it made him feel like a 'regular' person to have a little something extra with his meal. On our budget, we can't afford too many of those."
"I think you're doing a wonderful job here," Sue said sincerely. "You're providing a needed service."
Mark sighed. "I wish we could do more." He looked around. "How 'bout I treat you to that cup of coffee? You can have regular or regular."
"Then I'll take regular."
"And I saved a couple of your pastries to go with that coffee."
As the pair sat at a table and chatted, a man came up and tapped Sue on the shoulder.
"Eric!" smiled Sue. "How are you?" she signed and spoke for Mark's benefit.
"Better," he signed back. "Doctor give medicine. Cough better."
"Good! Did you get any pastry?"
He shook his head sadly. "Too late."
Sue looked at Mark a question in her eyes.
He nodded. "Go ahead," he said in resignation.
Smiling, she held up the plate to Eric. "Today is your lucky day. Two left. Take one."
The man's face lit up at the treat before him. He hesitated. "Sure?"
Sue held the plate closer to him. "Go ahead."
"Thanks!" Happily, Eric took one.
"Take the other, too," she urged.
"Share Richie. Maybe not have."
Eyes followed Eric as he limped away carrying his precious bundle.
"I was looking forward to eating one of those," sighed Mark. "Your pastries are excellent."
"Tell you what," began Sue, "I'll bring some fresh ones just for you and your staff tomorrow. Will that make up for today?"
"Definitely," he grinned.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good."
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"Makes you appreciate what you have, doesn't it," remarked Bobby as they exited the shelter located closest to the latest victim.
"I wish middle school kids could visit and see this," Jack declared. "It should make them think twice about even trying any kind of drug."
"It's like the Brother said…the homeless become invisible because no one wants to see them," answered Bobby. "If you can't see them, you don't have acknowledge the problem."
"I can't see any of those people working there trying to do in their clientele," commented Jack.
"Neither can I but someone is…somewhere and it's our job to find the bloke before he strikes again."
The two men entered the car.
"I don't know about you, Crash, but my stomach's telling me it's past lunch. Wanna find some place to grab a bite?"
Bobby shrugged. "Sure."
"We can try that place Myles and Lucy were talking about," Jack suggested. "I think it's on the way back to the Hoover building."
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"Looks like we missed the lunch crowd," observed Jack as they got out. "I hope they still have those tarts left."
"Hi!" greeted the man behind the counter. "Can I help you?"
"Do you have any blueberry tarts left?" Jack asked immediately as he checked out the display cases.
"As a matter of fact, you're in luck!" grinned the man. "A fresh batch should be coming out any minute."
"Good! I'll have one of that and a…" Jack looked at the menu. "…roast beef sandwich on rye with a cup of coffee."
"Regular or decaf? We even have an expresso machine."
"Regular's fine. And don't forget that blueberry tart."
"Right. One blueberry tart," The man behind the counter scribbled the order.
"You ready?" he asked Bobby.
"Chicken salad sandwich on toasted wheat."
"Anything to drink?"
"Coffee…regular."
"Any dessert?"
"No thanks."
The two men paid for their orders and found a place to sit.
"Nice place," Jack remarked. It was bright and cheerful. "I would never have thought to walk into a place called Sweet Treats and order lunch."
Bobby smirked. "Too frou-frou for you?"
Jack contemplated the idea. "No…but with a name like that I'd be expecting chocolates."
"Here you go, gentlemen," announced Howie as he carried two mugs. "Your coffee. Your sandwiches should be out any minute."
Bobby heard footsteps approaching their table.
"One roast beef on rye and…"
About to take a sip, Bobby's hand froze in mid-air at the sound of the voice he never expected to hear again.
Jack did a double-take at the look of shock and disbelief on his partner's face. "Bobby? Something the matter?" he asked in concern.
Bobby blinked wondering if he'd really heard her voice. Slowly he put down his cup and turned.
"Sue?"
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