Chapter Nine – The Plan Revealed
The tension in the room was palpable. No one wanted to be there. Mark, Steve, Captain Newman and the Chief sat on one side of the table in an interview room at the precinct. Alexandria Thompson and her editor Sam Theroux sat on the other.
"I won't jeopardize my journalistic integrity," Alex said with a slight quaver in her voice.
Steve looked at her with disbelieving eyes. "Not to be rude, Alex, but I think you left that at our house when you eavesdropped on our conversation."
"I was investigating a story; I used whatever means that were necessary to gather information."
Mark felt his temper rise. "Ms Thompson, we are not here to debate your integrity or lack thereof. We are giving you an opportunity to be involved in this case and the investigation first hand. I can't imagine that helping to catch a murderer would look bad on your resume."
"Ms Thompson? It used to be Alex."
"Yes, well 'used to be' is the key phrase. I am usually more formal with business acquaintances." Mark replied.
Alex looked at him with a slight smile. "I thought I was more than a business acquaintance?"
Mark chose to ignore the comment. "The plan is fairly simple. Steve resembles the victims, when you publish the story you will include a full body photo of Steve. The intent of your article will be to taunt the killer into coming after Steve." As Mark finished, his voice wavered slightly.
"I see, so you want me to be responsible for painting a bulls-eye on Steve's back?" Alex asked.
"Alex, save us the pretense that you really care," Steve spoke. "Dad, is right, no matter how it works out it will be a huge boost to your career, and we all know that's all that matters to you."
"That's not true," Alex responded as unshed tears filled her eyes.
"Mr. Theroux, I'm tired of this dance, is the LA Times going to cooperate or not?" the Chief asked.
"Well, based on your veiled threat to make it difficult for my reporters to get any information on future cases, I would say I have no choice. Will you provide the picture of Lieutenant Sloan, or do I need to have one of our photographers take one?"
"We'll let your photographer take the picture, Lieutenant Sloan will come to your office as soon as we finish here," Captain Newman replied.
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Steve once again traveled the familiar route to Alex's desk at the LA Times. He had finally convinced his father that he was fine on his own and that he was needed more at the hospital. It had not been easy; Mark was suffering from a severe case of over-protectiveness. As he neared Alex's desk he paused and waited; she was engrossed in a conversation with a young man. Steve leaned against the nearest desk and shoved his hands in his pockets. His ribs gave a quick reminder that they were still unhappy and an involuntary grimace crossed his face. He looked back towards her desk to see that Alex had noticed him and was motioning for him to join them. When he got closer he tried to identify the look on the young man's face. It almost looked hostile, but Steve was pretty sure he had never met the man before.
"Steve, this is David Larkin, he does a little bit of everything for the paper. David, this is Lieutenant Steve Sloan of the LAPD."
Steve extended his hand to David Larkin and was surprised when a reciprocating hand wasn't offered. After a moments' hesitation, during which Steve was sure he saw anger in the man's eyes, he offered his hand. He then mumbled some excuse and left the two of them alone.
"Do you want to read the first draft of the article?" Alex asked.
"Sure," Steve responded as he sat down in a chair by her desk.
Alex silently observed the man who had sat down beside her. The long eyelashes that fell over clear blue eyes, the tanned face, the strong nose and those perfect lips. Add in the rock hard body and you had one incredible specimen. Once you got past the physical attractiveness you weren't disappointed. He was a true gentleman. One of the best men she had ever met and she had blown whatever chance she might have had of furthering her relationship with him.
In an exclusive interview with this reporter, Lieutenant Steve Sloan, the lead investigator in the case, outlined the department's profile of the killer. He probably lives alone, has never been married and earns a below average income. Lieutenant Sloan also had a couple of personal observations. He felt that the man they were looking for had an inferiority complex. The murderer probably has little or no luck with women, and is more than likely impotent and blames his lack of success on other more attractive men. To quote Lieutenant Sloan, 'This guy couldn't get a date if he was the last guy on earth.'
"Laid it on a little thick didn't you?" Steve asked as he finished reading the article.
"Hey, you're the one who wants to be a target, I'm just trying to oblige."
Steve glanced back through the article. The pertinent details were there. They wanted to taunt the killer, so they had manufactured quotes from Steve that questioned the intelligence of the killer. Steve's accomplishments on the force were also detailed with false bravado. All in all, he came off looking like an egotistical jerk. Even he didn't like himself.
"It looks good to me, where do I go to get the picture taken?" Steve asked.
"Come with me, the photographer is Ann Diaz," Alex indicated as she stood up and made her way to the back of the press room.
Steve rose and followed her. They stopped when they reached a small cluttered area. "Ann?" Alex called.
A small woman with a bright smile turned at the sound of her name. "Hi, Alex, is this my subject?"
"Yes, Ann, this is Lieutenant Steve Sloan."
Ann looked him up and down appraisingly. "This should be an easy shot, no touchups needed to make the subject look good," she said with an appreciative grin.
Steve smiled in return. "Where do you want me?"
"Lieutenant, you really don't want to ask me that," she responded with a wolfish look.
Steve couldn't help the red that tinged his cheeks.
Alex was amazed she didn't think he could be any more attractive, but shyness transformed his older masculine features to a softer boyish look. He looked absolutely adorable.
"Lieutenant, take that jacket off so we can get a good look at you," Ann instructed.
Steve was feeling slightly uncomfortable. Ann had a gleam in her eyes that made him feel naked. As he complied with her request, his level of discomfort increased.
"My, my, it only gets better when more layers are removed. Sorta like finding a tasty filling in the middle of a nicely decorated cake," Ann observed as she moved in closer to her subject. "Lieutenant, cross your arms across your chest and stand with your legs slightly apart."
Steve moved to comply and was amazed at how Ann Diaz's demeanor had changed. The wolfish grin and suggestive comments had been replaced by a focused professional photographer. She worked with speed and accuracy, moving Steve like a piece in a board game. In no time she was finished.
"Alright, Good Looking, we are done with this, but you better give me your phone number in case some of these don't turn out," she informed him with a wink.
Steve flushed again as he put his jacket back on. He glanced up to see if she was serious and saw the playful smile on her lips. He grinned in return and thanked her for her time before walking away with Alex.
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As Steve shut the door of the beach house behind him he leaned back against it and closed his eyes. He was so tired and he saw no relief in sight. In fact, he was positive the worst was to come. He pushed himself up and made his way into the dining room to find Mark sitting at the table. Files were spread everywhere. His glasses were pushed to the end of his nose. A board sat on an easel with a picture of each of the victims attached. Beneath each photo was information that Mark had retrieved from the papers in front of him. He was concentrating so intently he hadn't even heard Steve come in. An affectionate smile graced Steve's face. "Hey, Dad," he greeted.
Mark wrinkled his nose and returned the smile. "Hello, Son, how did things go at the paper?"
"Fine, the article makes me look like a complete jerk."
Mark chuckled and then quickly turned serious. He still didn't like this plan. That's why he had been dissecting the information contained in the files, if he could identify the murderer he could halt this before it went any further. He pulled his mind back and looked up at his son. "You did ok with Alex?"
"Yes, you know it was really weird, she was talking with one of her co-workers when I got there, he was openly hostile, and to my knowledge we had never met."
Mark furrowed his brow. "Really? What was his name? Maybe it will ring a bell with me."
"David Larkin."
Something about the name sounded vaguely familiar, but Mark couldn't quite place it.
"I don't recall Alex ever mentioning the name, maybe he was just having a bad day."
"I guess it could be that." Steve moved closer to the board his father had put together. "I see you've been busy, please tell me you have found the killer and all I need to do is go arrest them."
"I'm working on it; I still don't like playing any part in making you a target. There is something in these files that I'm missing and I intend to find it. You, on, the other hand, need to go lay down before you fall down."
Steve nodded his agreement. "I am pretty tired, I'll go take a quick nap, and then come back up and help you."
"As long as that quick nap takes eight hours," Mark responded with a crooked smile.
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The figure sat hunched over a bowl of cereal reading the morning edition of the paper. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble to get my attention Lieutenant Sloan; I had already decided you would be next. You won't get off as easy as the others though, because you are also my last."