Chapter XLVI

Giving It the Old College Try

"I've been up so long I can't feel my left butt cheek. I might loose it, ya know."

Sofia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jesus, Greg, I didn't need to know that."

Greg's hair was spiked wildly around his face, not in any particular style, but because he had been working for several hours over his shift. "So why are we going back to UNLV again?"

Sofia drove with one hand and drank her millionth cup of coffee with the other. "Because everyone else is ignoring this angle. If it makes you feel any better, you were my second pick."

Greg drank his own coffee. "No, surprisingly, that does not help. So while Brass is interviewing the witness and Catherine is interviewing the family, we're going to go get cozy with an on-campus computer?"

"Pretty much."

Greg stretched in his seat. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a little on the anti-social side?"

The morning traffic through the city was sluggish. "I just happen to believe in covering all of your bases."

Greg closed his eyes behind his dark tinted sunglasses. "And this base couldn't have waited until after a nap?"

Sofia put her coffee in the cup holder and moved her driving hand up to the twelve o'clock position so the wheel wouldn't jerk. Then she punched Greg in the arm.

That did make her feel better—no wonder Nick, Warrick and Sara did it so often.

"Ow!" Greg faked a wince. "You're grumpy when you don't get enough sleep."

They spent the rest of the drive to UNLV in companionable silence that was only broken by Greg's occasional sarcastic comment about her grumpiness or his lack of sleep.

She pulled into one of the open spots in front of the building that housed the university's internal police. Though she hadn't gone to UNLV, Sofia felt rather comfortable. She had spent many hours at her own school's security office. There were students hanging around, waiting to pay parking tickets or file reports, but Sofia didn't get in line to talk to one of the work-study kids working the windows. She cut around the side, towards the offices, and flashed her badge as she went. Capitan McNeely—Mick—was waiting for them.

The squad room was small, compared to the one she was used to working in back at PD, but for a mid-sized college it wasn't too shabby. One wall was taken up by monitors that showed different sections of the school's public areas and main entrances and exits to every one of the facility's buildings, including dorms. Another wall had several large maps of the school and the area around it. There were six desks, three of which were currently occupied with a uniformed officer doing whatever they were assigned to do. There was a computer on each desk, very little clutter and an air of professionalism. UNLV's Campus Police Force took its job very seriously.

One of the officers, a twenty-something pretty boy with styled blonde hair and dimples, finally looked up. "Can I help you?" His eyes darted to her belt. "Detective and-"

Sofia turned to face him. "I'm Detective Curtis and this is Greg Sanders from the Crime Lab. Mick's expecting us."

The officer rolled back in his chair. "Yeah, he said something about some townies coming in. What do you need?"

Greg looked at her, then shrugged. "I have a list of search parameters that I want to run against your student, faculty and staff database. Hopefully I can narrow down our suspect base."

"That's allot of I's for a guy who's not touching our database."

Greg crossed his arms over his chest. "We have a warrant."

Officer Dimples only shrugged. "Yeah, and you'll get the information faster if someone who knows what they're doing handles it." He snatched the papers out of Greg's hands and looked over them. "Looks easy enough."

Sofia watched, a little surprised, as the young man attacked the keyboard with ease. Most of the LVPD cops didn't work well with computers. Some of the older officer preferred not to use them at all.

Officer Dimples looked over at one of the other uniforms. "Hey, Cassandra, I'm linking up to the big screen." The thick-set woman only mumbled off a reply, but her coworker didn't seem to notice.

A twenty-seven inch television on a rolling cart flickered on and revealed the program that Officer Dimples had running on his desktop computer. It didn't look far off from the several databases that they used.

Officer Dimples started to type furiously. "You want the females, which is actually fifty-two percent of our student body and thirty percent of faculty, fifty-three percent of the staff."

"Students," Sofia interjected. "I want to narrow it down to female students, upperclassmen but not grad students. She is a Caucasian female, probably brunette."

Dimples hit a few keys. "Anything else?"

Greg looked at the screen, his head cocked to the side. "Does the university have a record of student's high schools?"

Dimples swiveled back and forth in his chair. "Yeah, sure, what school would you like?"

Greg shook his head. "Any school that starts with an M."

The officer pushed cracked his knuckles. "Now that's a challenge."

Sofia ran the numbers through her head. UNLV's average student number, around half of that were female. How many were brunette, how many went to an M high school? Fifty, seventy, two hundred? They only needed one.

She and Greg watched the television screen and Dimples watched his own screen. Time stretched out and dragged on. Sofia held her breathe and watched the little hour glass spin and spin.

Sofia's feet hurt, and her legs ached from ankle to hip. Even her ass hurt, but she wouldn't say that to Greg. Her back, neck and shoulders were knotted, hard and pulled as tight as piano wire. Her eyes felt like they were full of grit, her head was heavy and her thoughts bogged down and all she wanted to do was sleep. She wanted to sleep for twelve hours straight in her soft bed in her comfortable, air-conditioned bedroom. That was where she wanted to be, but here she was in a tiny, gray, second-rate security room on a college campus following a lead that no one else deemed important enough to look into.

She was waiting for the basic information that a half-assed cop had plugged in to the computer to magically reveal the killer. This case wouldn't be solved by the feats of her mind, the sweat of her brow, the smoke of her burnt shoe leather. There would be no sudden inspiration or insight that would reveal who, why and how. That bull was reserved for television, movies and badly written mystery novels. She, and others, had spent weeks on this case. There had been postponed dates, missed birthday parties and broken promises. The press was following their every move: speculating, accusing and throwing bright lights on things that were better left in shadow. The higher ups were breathing down their necks. They wanted movie-magic minute long DNA tests, fifteen minute interrogations and an hour-long open and shut case and they wanted it yesterday.

All that work, all that time. All the speculation and expectations and it came down to Officer Dimples and his computer.

"Okay, I have forty possible."

Greg turned to look at him. "Forty?" The run-down CSI scrubbed at his scruffy five and some extra hour's shadow. "How many live on campus?"

They watched the television screen as Dimples scrolled down to get the information. "About half, so let me exclude them."

Sofia wanted to strangle him. "You can't exclude them just because they live in a dormitory."

"Yes he can."

Sofia and Greg turned to see Mick come in. Beads of perspiration stood out on his bald head and his face was fire-engine red. "It's hot as a steel mill in hell out there." He helped himself to a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and took a long drink. After he re-capped the Dasani he cleared his throat. "Like I said, he can exclude anyone who lives on-campus because curfew has been in effect since the day after the Marsh incident."

Greg only shrugged. "There are always ways to get around a curfew." He sounded like he was speaking from experience. Knowing Greg, he probably was.

"You seriously think a curfew is going to keep these kids safe, sound and in their dorms?"

Mick rounded on her as soon as the words left her lips.

"I know that my kids know how serious this is. How many blue-paint killers, strip-stranglers, miniature killers and male-mutilators do you think it takes to get them scared? I may not be a detective but I know how to keep this campus safe. I've got a list of every single exception student and my team has been doing room-to-rooms every night." He looked away for a moment, "Cass, run these 40 kids against our exception and no-show lists." He glared back at Sofia. "Unless the detective wants to check every card swipe and log-on herself, by hand."

Sofia threaded her fingers through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. She had obviously stepped on his toes and pride. That was exactly what she hadn't needed to do, too.

"Mick, Capitan, we've been on our feet so long we're barely standing. I didn't mean to step on your toes. We all know you run a tight ship."

Mick only nodded, but that was enough to tell Sofia that he wasn't going to hold it against her, much.

"Tyler!"

The third officer, who had been quiet so far, jumped in his seat. "Yes, sir?"

He had rookie written all over him and Sofia almost felt bad for him.

"Get your thumb out of your butt and run these names to see if anything pops up on their records."

"Yes, sir!"

He started to type with such enthusiasm that Sofia could actually hear each and every harder-than-necessary keystroke.

"What makes you so sure that one of my kids is involved?"

Mick folded his freckled arms over his burly chest, obviously not satisfied with what he'd already heard.

"The media is convinced that you've fingered Alexandra Dupree for the murders."

Sofia massaged the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. The very mention of Dupree and the situation surrounding her, namely Sara's involvement, inspired a headache. "Those leeches would latch onto any theory right about now. Today it's Dupree, tomorrow it's Elvis."

Mick didn't look especially convinced. "Scuttlebutt says it's a cult killing spree."

Sofia wanted to let out a groan, did it never end?

Luckily Greg had a reply ready: "We're looking into several angles, not Elvis yet, but we haven't counted anything out."

Mick gave Greg a long look. "No roaming kid gangs this time?"

Greg's face went still and hard, his fists clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles blanch white. Sofia was a step faster and she threw her arm out in front of Greg. Fatigue fell away and her teeth clenched.

"That was uncalled for, Capitan McNeely. If you have a problem with my team, you take it to the Sheriff. In the meantime, I am serving a warrant and I want the results. Do you have a problem with that?"

Greg put his hand on the arm she had thrown up in front of him. It was difficult to tell who was holding back whom.

Sofia didn't move an inch, her intense blue eyes locked on to the other man's watery brown.

"Do you have a problem with that, McNeely?"

"Sir."

All three turned, somewhat reluctantly, to look at Officer Dimples; Tyler and Cassandra were all huddled around Dimples' desk. The woman, Cassandra, looked at them. "We narrowed it down to six."

Mick went over to the computer. "Just six?"

The three campus security officers motioned them over.

Dimples hit a few keys and six faces and names appeared on the television screen.

Sofia looked over them one by one. Their pictures and information were bold and embossed against a scarlet red background.

"Tell me about them."

Dimples waited for his Capitan's approval and only when he got it did he proceed.

The first picture enlarged until it took up half of the stream. The other side filled with the pertinent information that was on the university's database.

"Joanna Adams, she's a junior."

Sofia listened to Dimples speak and she stared at the picture. The woman, girl, fit the physical profile, but her only record was one for possession of marijuana and another for possession of alcohol. Both had been in small quantities. This wasn't what she was looking for. There were certain signs, certain disturbances that she was looking for.

"Next."

Anne Chandra, Chloe Franklin, Haley Lewis, Jennifer Scott and Simone Thamee were also unremarkable.

Sofia pinched the bridge of her nose again. "No, none of them look good for it." She tried to think, but was coming up with nothing.

Beside her Greg cleared his throat. "These are just confirmed cases you've charged and booked the kids for, right?"

Mick nodded and waited for Greg to continue.

"Do you keep a record of complaints, or suspicions that never really went anywhere, cold cases?"

The three campus officers went quiet and Mick sighed. "No, we don't have the manpower to log every little thing. There could be some of that on end-of-shift reports but none of those are centralized or even on the database."

Greg looked disappointed and Sofia understood why. Their long-shot was getting longer and longer.

The thing about covering bases, though, was that sometimes on your last swing, you hit a grand slam. The only difference between a grand-slam and a strike out was perseverance and the will to keep swinging the bat.

"Okay,"

She shook her arms out to get rid of the kinks in her shoulders as she started to pace and tick off what they knew about the killer.

"We are looking for a Caucasian, female upperclassman. She is now a brunette but hair color can be changed. She definitely has pierced ears. She may be a chemistry major and she may or may not be on one of the school's sports or intramural teams."

Mick, Dimples, Tyler and Cassandra looked at her.

"That doesn't give us much to work with."

Mick was right of course, but she waved them off.

"She probably has issues with authority. So think of anyone who's had arguments or even fights with peers, RAs, professors even."

She had been trying to get inside of the killer's head for so long, and now it was paying off.

"She didn't just become violent out of the blue. There would have been signs, indicators. Think back over the past three to four years. Fighting with professors or other students or—"

Sofia froze as she thought; making connections that she hadn't before.

"She might have claimed that a professor solicited her for a good grade. She may have even claimed that he raped her. Don't limit yourselves to that, though. She's a chronic or maybe even a pathological liar. She may have a tendency for theft or fire setting."

"She might have started small, killing animals in and around campus," Greg commented. Now, of course, they were giving a basic profile. It was not tailored to their killer, exactly, but serial killers tended to fall into one or two basic profiles.

Sofia crossed her arms. "She's comfortable in social situations but possibly rebellious, a rabble-rouser, if you will. Do any names, anybody at all, come to mind?"

For a moment no one spoke and Sofia wanted to put her fist through the wall.

"I think, well, maybe there's this girl."

All eyes turned to Cassandra and the pudgy over-permed redhead shrugged. "At the end of this last spring semester we had an incident. We could never peg down who did it, but I got some bad vibes off this one girl."

The other officers looked on and Dimples almost jumped out of his chair. "That freak?" He actually smacked himself on the forehead. "Why didn't I think of that before? Tell them, Cass."

Sofia and Greg, along with Mick and Tyler turned again to Cassandra and she began.

"We had an RA, fifth year senior, he graduated with honors. He was a good kid; anyway, he had this pet. Now school policy permits fish and caged rodents, but he petitioned the housing department for permission to bring his iguana on campus. He was allowed because Randal, the lizard, was perfectly tame, fat, and content to drape himself on Vince's computer monitor. He actually became sort of a floor mascot." The redhead sighed. "So last semester, right between midterms and finals I get a call out to the dorms. Vince was beside himself, hysterical and almost crying, said Randal was dead. I was about to smack him for calling me down for a DOA lizard, but then I saw it."

The woman actually paled a little. "That iguana wasn't just dead. Somebody mutilated it all to hell. I'm saying they sliced it up like a frog over in the bio lab. They cut him open, sliced him from throat to tail, gouged his eyes out, cut his tongue and tail off and they disemboweled him and left it all in the middle of Vince's bed. It was the sickest thing I'd ever seen, and I'm not going to lie to you, I had to run to the nearest toilet."

Sofia, unfortunately, didn't have any problems imagining it.

"Did you have any suspects?"

Cassandra leaned against Dimples' desk. "I talked to everyone on that floor and to Vince all day. Nobody saw anything and the only person who'd ever had a problem with Vince lived on the next floor down. When I went to talk to her she was, well, I didn't like her." The woman shook her head. "She'd filled out several reports, noise and behavior and so on, against Vince, but claimed that as an RA he got out of everything." The woman's green eyes widened. "She even accused him of trying to grope her."

Greg nodded. "Did you have any solid evidence?"

Cassandra sighed. "No, which was why I could never close the case. Vince graduated and the girl moved off-campus but it's nagged at me ever since."

Sofia nodded, and uncrossed her arms. "Do you remember her name?"

Cassandra nodded. "It's hard to forget."

The girl's name was only four syllables, but once she heard it Sofia felt everything click into place. She grimaced when the realization set in; they'd had her all along and never realized it.

"Can we get a location on her, now?"

The officers started moving and Sofia felt her heart rate pick up. With a little luck, they had her.