Page 44 of Serial Love

“Okay,” Chad said slowly. “What are you thinking?”

“From what we can gather, they were all doing something out of character,” Luke replied.

Suddenly, Blaise said, “Karen usually studied at the library—almost every night. Her roommates said you could set a clock by her with her study habits. But the night in question, she changed her routine and went to a bar with friends. What if someone had watched her and then followed her?”

“But that would take time,” Bart argued. “Time for someone to watch and then act.”

“Most serial killers take that time,” Jack said. “It would only take a few consecutive evenings watching a library to notice the same girl leaving late, giving the impression that they had been there studying. Even if they haven’t, the killer could easily make that assumption. One night they’re not and something flips his switch.”

“Or he actually follows and sees them go to a bar or somewhere that he doesn’t think fits the good girl in his mind,” Cam added.

“I’m not buying it,” Bart insisted. “It’s not logical.”

Monty quickly dialed the FBI profiler and had Luke set her up on video conference again, while Cam and Bart argued the merits of the theory.

“Shirley, thanks for joining us again,” Monty greeted, effectively shutting up Cam and Bart.

She laughed and said, “I caught some of that. You have to remember what is logical to you is not necessarily going to be logical to a serial killer.”

Chastised, Bart nodded, as Monty quickly explained their theory to her.

Excited, she said, “That’s actually a very possible scenario. You see, if the killer is fantasizing about a good girl, he doesn’t have to necessarily prove she is a good girl by watching her for long periods of time. And of course he could have his own definition of a good girl. Maybe just someone he saw. Maybe someone he has determined does not party. Who knows what his definition is? A few trips out of the library could be enough to prove to him that she is good and then a trip to a bar would make her not good, or whatever it is in his mind that gives him the urge to kill.”

“What about the tie-in with a fishing filet knife?” Jack asked.

Shirley thought for a moment and said, “Well, it could simply be that he has a knife readily available to him as a weapon or it could signify something more psychological.”

“Psychological?” Chad prodded.

“Yes, some trauma or experience with a fishing knife.” Shirley looked down at her notes before glancing back at the computer camera. “There is the possibility he keeps the fingers as souvenirs.”

“Like a kidnapper sending something that proves they have the person?” Bart queried.

“No. In the case of a kidnapper, you’re right, it is for proof. In a killer, it could be that this is the keepsake, if you will, for that victim. Many serial killers like to keep a memento of the person they choose to sacrifice.”

Shaking his head, Cam leaned his large frame back in his chair. “This shit just keeps getting crazier.”

Thanking her, Monty disconnected and looked around the room, his eyes landing on Jack. “Now what, boss?”

Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, Jack replied, “Keep digging. I want that photograph of the man from the bar shown around to more possible witnesses. And we need to plot out the locations again. Why did he start out in some campuses that were further out and now has localized?”

Divvying out assignments, including a few new security contracts that had come in, the men moved upstairs once more.

As soon as they hit the first floor, Jack’s front gate alarm rang. Checking the panel, he saw a familiar face in an old sedan smiling at him. Pressing the controls, he allowed her entrance. Moving through his men, he opened the front door and watched as she drove into view.

Seeing him through the windshield, Bethany grinned nervously as she glanced at the other vehicles parked around. She hoped this impromptu visit would not anger Jack but decided to test his ability to accept her into his world.At least for cobbler.

He met her at her door when she parked and assisted her out. She bent over and he was forced to tellhis cock to obey when her jean-clad ass was perched right in his line of vision. A quick glance at the front porch revealed the smiles of his men. All seven of them. One glare from him had them laughing.

Bethany shimmied back out of her car, her hands filled with another dish. “Apple cobbler this time,” she declared.

He took the heavy dish from her, escorting her up his front steps. The men who had been ready to leave now headed back into the house and straight into the kitchen.

By the time he set the platter on the counter, all seven had plates and forks ready. Looking at her in mock sternness, Jack growled, “Do you have to bake for me when these vultures are here?”

Laughing, she shrugged. “I had no idea who would be here, so I baked enough for all.”

The group dug in heartily, murmurs of pleasure as well as thanks were voiced all around. Each of the men seemed to accept her in Jack’s life, for which she was grateful. During their conversations, she enjoyed their camaraderie and banter and began to discern the different personalities of Jack’s Saints. And friends.

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