Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle

Jim sat at his desk and studied the information he’d gotten when he ran their killer’s MO through VICAP. There were numerous women who’d been raped, tortured and murdered, many of them killed by having their throats slit. But there were only four murder cases that were practically identical to what they knew about Stephanie Preston’s and Jacque Reeves’s abductions and murders. And there was a fifth murder case that had some similarities. All five women had been killed in the Southeastern part of the United States, all within the past five years. Two in Georgia—Julie Patton and Michelle McMahon; one in Tennessee—Courtney Pettus; one in North Carolina—Sara Hayes; and one in South Carolina—Shannon Elmore. Jim had no idea if these women had anything in common other than the fact they were all victims of brutal rapes and murders, their killer’s MO practically identical to the killer now stalking women in northeastern Alabama. But did that mean all these women had been murdered by the same man?

Thanks to this FBI program, Jim had access to the names of the lead detectives on all of the murder cases. He intended to get in touch with each of them in order to obtain as much information as he could. The more he learned about these similar cases, the better able he’d be to judge whether their northeastern Alabama killer was or was not the same man.

Although Bernie had given him free rein as the lead detective in the Preston murder case and the Hardy missing person’s case, she had asked him to make sure she was included in everything.

“I think I can learn a lot from you, Jim,” she’d told him. “And I’m not too proud to admit that fact. You’re probably better qualified to be sheriff than I am, but this is Adams County and my last name is Granger.”

He admired her honesty, admired her for having the guts to speak so bluntly. But he thought maybe she was selling herself short because she kept comparing herself to her father.

As if thinking about her had brought her to him, Jim heard Bernie’s voice in the outer office. She was talking to John Downs, asking him for an update on the Thomasina Hardy case.

“Have you and Ron questioned everybody you know of who traveled County Road One-fifty-seven between six and seven-thirty last night?”

“Yeah, there were only half a dozen people that we could find,” John said. “And none of them remembers seeing Thomasina, except old man Hammonds remembers meeting a car fitting that description around six-forty, right before he crossed the Sunflower Creek bridge. He said that the best he could tell the woman driving was alone.”

“Where’s Ron now?” Bernie asked.

“He’s over at Taylor’s Wrecker Service, waiting around for those crime scene fellows Charlie Patterson sent over from Huntsville to finish up with Thomasina’s car.”

Jim shoved back his chair, stood and walked across the room. When he opened the door, Bernie and John turned around and looked at him.

“Afternoon,” Bernie said.

Jim glanced at the wall clock above the outer door. Five-thirty-five. “It’s nearly evening.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get over here sooner, but my day has been wild. After this morning’s press conference, I had to meet with Jerry Dale; then Lisa has been fending calls all day from local citizens concerned about the fact we’ve had two abductions in such a short time span. And just when I thought I might escape and come over here, Robyn breezed in with the invitations to Mom and Dad’s fortieth wedding anniversary party, which she was supposed to have sent out a week ago.”

“Your folks have been married forty years?” Jim’s own parents hadn’t made it to their fortieth anniversary. His dad had died a month shy of their thirty-fourth.

“Is the party a surprise?” John asked.

“Yes, they’ve been married forty years,” she replied to Jim. “And they’re still very much in love. Imagine that.” She glanced at John. “No, the party is not a surprise. You don’t honestly think we could keep a secret like that from Brenda Granger, do you? My mother expects something special, and if she didn’t know for sure that Robyn and I were planning an extravaganza for her and Dad, she’d suspect something and start searching for answers.”

John laughed, but before he could lead Bernie off into some idle chitchat, something Jim had learned John was very good at doing, he motioned to Bernie with a nod of his head, indicating for her to come into his office. He backed up the nonverbal invitation by saying, “If we’re going to leave here before midnight tonight, we should get started on that profile we need to work up as soon as possible. The sooner we send it off, the sooner we’ll see results.”

“Oh, sure thing.” Bernie patted John on the arm as she passed him. “Tell Cathy not to make any plans for two weeks from Saturday. Y’all will be getting your invitations to the big bash tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there.” John grinned. “You know Cathy and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As soon as Bernie entered Jim’s office, he closed the door behind her. “I have the VICAP report, and it looks like there were four almost identical abduction and murder cases, with a possible fifth.”

“In Alabama?”

Jim shook his head. “Two in Georgia, one in Tennessee, one in North Carolina and another in South Carolina. All within the past five years.”

“I’ve never done a profile matrix before,” Bernie said. “Except in theory at the class I took at Quantico.”

Jim pulled a chair around the side of his desk and aligned it next to his, then indicated for Bernie to sit. “You take my chair.”

After she sat in the big swivel chair, he sat and scooted his chair closer to hers, then picked up the yellow legal pad lying on his desk. “As you know, it’s a matter of developing a picture of the criminal and his crimes, connecting the dots to see what fits together.”

“Okay.”

“We start with asking and answering those six all-important questions.”

Bernie’s eyes widened. “Who, what, when, where, how and why?”

He clicked his tongue and grinned at her. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

Shaking her head, she laughed.

“What?” he asked guilelessly. “Ah … it’s not politically correct to call you a girl, huh?”

“I don’t mind, but some female officers do.”

“I’ll try to remember that. But I’m glad you don’t have a thin skin.”

Bernie cleared her throat. “So we start with the question of who.”

“Yeah, who are the victims?” Jim asked.

“Our three are all young, attractive women in their midto-late twenties.”

“Hmm … And what else did they have in common?”

“Thomasina Hardy teaches at Adams County Junior College, Stephanie Preston was a student there, and Jacque Reeves had been a student several years ago.”

“It could be a coincidence that they all had a connection to the college, but we won’t rule out that fact being important.” Jim glanced down at the legal pad. “Were you aware of the fact that all three women had dark hair and brown eyes?”

“No, not really. So, they were all young, attractive brunettes.”

“Young, attractive, popular brunettes.”

Bernie snapped her head around and looked directly at Jim. “Popular?”

“Translated that means women who have dated a lot of different men.”

“Okay. The answer to our who question is young, attractive, popular brunettes.” Bernie counted off each adjective on her fingers. “We need to find out if that description fits those four or five women you came up with through VICAP.”

“I’ve put in calls to two of the lead detectives, starting with the ones in Georgia, since they were the most recent. I expect to hear from them no later than tomorrow sometime. In the morning, I’ll contact the ones in the other states, too.”

Bernie nodded.

“There are two parts to the who question,” Jim said. “Who are the victims was part one.”

“And who is our killer is part two.”

“What type of killer is he?” Jim looked directly into Bernie’s brown eyes. Brown eyes flecked with dark gold. Odd that he’d never noticed her eyes weren’t a true brown the way Robyn’s were. But then again, he’d never been this physically close to Bernie.