9
It Had to Be You
A/N: Happy Fourth of July!
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Chapter 24
In the cold early morning hours, a homeless woman shivered as she clutched the top of her threadbare coat tighter. Her worn suitcase bumped along behind her. It was still dark but the wind made it impossible to sleep in her usual spot and the shelters were full. She trudged along hoping to find a protected spot somewhere so she could get a couple of hours of sleep before the cops came to oust her out.
In the gloom of the darkened side street, her eyes picked out a large angular shape leaning against a dumpster. Peering closer she saw it was a sheet of cardboard. The thought of getting a little warmer made her walk a bit faster. Lifting up a corner, she was about to huddle beneath it when she spotted the dark shape lying there.
"Sorry, mister," she apologized. "I didn't see you. I'm sorry." She was about to drop the piece back down when something about the figure struck her as odd. He wasn't huddled against the cold but splayed against the concrete ground.
Tentatively she bent down to touch the sprawling body…to check if he was alive. His face was cold and sticky. Sticky? She stared at the liquid on her fingertips. It was…it was…
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The whole neighborhood seemed to be slumbering. Bobby lifted the curtain to view the street. Nothing had appeared to change since he last looked an hour ago. He turned back to the living room and walked over to the sleeping woman on the couch.
When he had insisted on taking his turn on watch, Sue had refused to go back to bed without him. She'd keep him company, she'd said. Tara could take her room and Jack could have Brian's. Reluctantly, the other two agents had agreed. With a little smile, he remembered how her resolve had lasted about thirty minutes before her eyes closed.
He picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and covered Sue. As he gazed at her face, he marveled at how much she'd come to mean to him in such a short period of time. The truly miraculous part was that she reciprocated his feelings. When this case was over, some serious discussions needed to be held. He hoped it would be soon.
He stretched his six foot three frame and was about to do another check of the house when he heard the muted chirping of a cell phone penetrating the quiet of the house. It sounded as though it was coming from Jack's room.
Softly rapping on the door, he turned the knob and pushed it open. Jack waved him in as he continued his conversation on the phone.
"Another body?"
"Yeah but a different cause of death."
"What was it?"
"Blow to the head."
"So how is this linked to our serial killer?
"The woman who found him called the victim Richie. Said she used to see the deceased at thet shelter Father Dancy runs."
"What?" asked a startled Jack. Bobby came closer at the tone of Jack's voice.
" Quite a coincidence, isn't it?"
"I don't believe in coincidences…not when a serial killer is involved and a possible witness is now dead."
Alarm appeared on Bobby's face as the implication of Jack's words hit him.
"What else can you tell me, Diana?" As he listened to the police lieutenant, he mouthed to Bobby, "Go wake up, Tara."
Bobby nodded and swiftly went to the next room.
"Is it my shift?" she asked sleepily when he woke her.
"There's been another murder, Tara."
Instantly, she was wide awake. "When?"
"Jack's talking to Diana at Metro Police."
"Give me three minutes."
Nodding his acknowledgment, Bobby hurried to the living room. He knew it was irrational. He'd just checked the entire house out but he had to be sure. He stopped at the entryway--Sue was still sleeping. Slumping against the doorsill, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Bobby?"
He straightened. "Yea, Jack?"
"I'm having Tara arrange for security for Sue and Father Dancy if he wants it."
"I can protect her, Jack," he said earnestly. "I'll watch her day and night."
"No, you can't," declared Jack jabbing his finger at his friend.
"But…"
"No buts. You must be tired because obviously you're not thinking clearly. You're involved with the witness, Bobby. By all guidelines you should be taken off the case."
"Jack!" an aghast Bobby exclaimed. "You can't do that!"
"If I don't, D will if you don't get your head on straight and put your emotions in check," Jack said sternly. "Look," he said his attitude softening, "I know how you feel but it won't help Sue if you think with your heart. We have to approach this rationally and make the appropriate plans for her safety."
"She won't be safe until we catch this bloke."
"Precisely." He stared at Bobby. "Do you think you can remain objective and think like an FBI agent instead of a lovesick schoolboy?"
"I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."
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It was decided Tara and Jack would head for the crime scene. Bobby would join them as soon as the security team arrived to take his place. Once Tara and Jack left, he'd wakened both Sue and Janice. He couldn't leave without letting them know what was happening.
"You think Richie was murdered because the killer thought he could identify him?" Sue asked soberly.
"It's a possibility we can't ignore," he said honestly.
"So what's gonna happen to Sue?" demanded Janice.
"A team will come and check your home for possible points of entry," explained Bobby. "Cameras will be set up to monitor these points."
"Make sure they don't trample all over my rose bushes," she warned him. "That takes care of the house. What about when she goes out?"
Bobby looked at Sue. "If I had my way, I'd whisk her away and keep her hidden until the killer is apprehended," he replied.
Sue frowned. They'd had this discussion before Janice had joined them.
"However, she says she has an obligation to her employer and insists on going to work. Hence, when the security team is done here, they'll be heading over to the shop and take whatever measures to secure the place."
"You leaving a bodyguard?"
"We'd like to."
"Whoever it is, make sure the person blends in," Janice declared. "Can't have a bodyguard intimidating the customers. Not good for the business."
Bobby laughed at her practicality. "We have just the person in mind," he assured her. "She can help Sue with the baking. Tina has a degree in culinary arts."
"If she's good, maybe I'll hire her away from you guys," grinned Janice. "Always looking for a few good people."
"Don't you dare!" admonished Bobby with a smile. "The FBI is short-handed as it is. Any more questions?"
Janice shook her head. "That's it for now." She stood up. "I'm going to start breakfast. Sure you can't stay?"
"I can't," he said regretfully. "May I have a rain check?"
"When this whole thing is over, I'll cook you a dinner you won't forget," Janice promised.
"I'll be looking forward to it," smiled Bobby.
Then they were alone. Throughout the whole exchange between Bobby and Janice, Sue had been silent wrestling with the thought that someone wanted her dead. She felt Bobby's hands on her shoulders. Concerned eyes searched her face.
"Are you all right?"
"I just find this all so…so unbelievable," she confessed. "First Eric, then Richie. Why, Bobby, why?"
"Serial killers have a logic all their own. It may not make sense to us but it does to them," he said calmly. "I won't let him hurt you, Sue."
"I know you won't," she said simply, her eyes full of trust.
Gently, Bobby tilted her chin up and kissed her.
"I'll see you tonight if not sooner," he promised when he finally released her.
"I'll be waiting."
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"How's Sue?" asked Jack when Bobby joined them at the crime scene. The dingy streaks of sunlight were beginning to illuminate the grey alley.
"Doing as well as can be expected," he answered scanning the area. "I see they've taken the body."
"'bout five minutes ago."
"Anything?"
"The victim was probably killed with that old standby, 'a blunt instrument'," reported Myles. "Based upon the point of impact probably a brick or rock. We have people searching for the possible murder weapon including D in the dumpster," he shared in a particularly smarmy voice.
A head popped up.
"I heard my name," said D stopping for a minute in his distasteful task.
"How did you pull such dastardly duty?" It was one of their least favorite things to do. "You look like Oscar the Grouch," Bobby added as an afterthought.
"It was his turn," Myles snorted. "I did it the last time."
"Found anything?"
"Disgusting? Yes. Useful? No." D sighed. "Back to garbage duty."
"So…what happened?" asked Bobby.
"The victim was probably followed and hit from behind then dragged next to the dumpster so the body wouldn't be found right away," Jack answered. "We found some scuff lines."
"Anything to identify the killer?"
Jack shook his regretfully. "No."
"Witnesses?"
"No."
"So Sue remains our only witness."
"Yeah."
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"The fact that the killer has now resorted to more physical means of disposing of his victims indicates he feels threatened," Theresa Martin stated. She'd been contacted to provide further insight into the mind of the serial killer after this latest murder.
"How much danger is the witness in?" asked Bobby.
"I wouldn't want to be in that person's shoes," confessed Theresa. "It's now become a matter of survival—his."
"Do you think he'll attack the witness in front of others?"
"No," Theresa replied. "It doesn't follow his pattern."
"Neither does bashing someone over the head," pointed out Myles.
"Whatever control the killer has over his homicidal impulses is slipping," Theresa replied. "His freedom is being jeopardized and he's willing to take a few more chances to get rid of the threat. Still, the thing about serial killers is that they don't deviate from the original modus operandi because it's been successful in the past."
Lucy frowned. "Anybody else being weirded out by this?"
"That's how serial killers think. I don't know what that says about me for trying to get into a murderer's head," she remarked wryly.
"It says you're doing your best to help us," soothed Tara. "We appreciate any and all the help we can get."
"Thanks." Theresa smiled briefly. She scanned the group. "Any more questions?"
"Not at the moment," responded Jack. "Thanks, Theresa."
She pushed herself off Jack's desk. "Any time but not too soon, okay?" She walked out of the bullpen.
The team looked at each other.
"Now what?" asked Myles.
"We need to find out who the killer is before he has a chance to get to Sue," replied Jack. His eyes slid sideways to his friend's grim face. He could see Bobby's jaw tighten in determination.
"Are we certain this person is a victim of the killer and not just a hapless casualty of random violence?" Myles questioned.
"No, Myles," Bobby answered in a tight voice, "we're not certain but it appears to be too much of a coincidence that the next target happens to be have been in the search party for victim number five."
"I just meant…it wouldn't be unusual for a homeless person to be killed by another homeless person," Myles defended his viewpoint. "It happens."
"True," said Jack trying to pour oil over troubled waters. "However, we're just assuming the worst because we don't want Sue to be num..." Jack stopped himself from finishing his thought. "We don't want anything to happen to her," he amended.
Eyes flicked toward Bobby at Jack's verbal stumble and saw the muscles in his jaw tighten.
"I think we need to figure out how the killer knew Richie was with Sue the night she found their friend," Jack proposed.
"Good idea," agreed D, "but how?"
"Go back to the sources," Bobby said promptly. "We need to talk to Sue and Mark and see if they spoke to anyone about finding Eric Shelton."
"I take it you're volunteering to do the questioning?" D asked dryly.
A wry smile appeared. "Always willing to do my share in a case," he responded sardonically as he stood up. "Coming, Jack?"
Without a word, Jack reached for his jacket and followed Bobby out the door.
"What do you want the rest of us to do?" asked Lucy once the two men left.
"Go over the reports and see if we can spot something we missed," D answered. "We really don't want Sue to be victim number seven."
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