Maybe he turned me into some kind of sex junkie, she thought and a laugh escaped her, she was pretty sure that one time did not make her a junkie. “But you would certainly like more,” she told herself, “And you could very well become addicted. That was amazing.”
They strolled into Union Square, Sassy heading eagerly for the stand that gave out samples of fresh goat cheese. It had become one of her favorite treats and the woman who ran the stall was always happy to see the two of them. Once the pleasantries were dispensed with and Sassy had happily gulped down the small chunks of cheese she was offered Sophie bought a half pound of the cheese she preferred from that vendor and they moved on to the other stalls.
Union Square’s market was open air and the smell of fresh herbs and flowers mingled with the bright sunshine to create a festive atmosphere. Farmers stood behind colorful and heaped up mounds of fruits and produce, jars of honey gave off an amber glow, a street entertainer danced and juggled while a young man sat at an easel, doing quick sketches for the people who paused to buy his wares.
Freshly baked breads enticed those passing by and Sophie bought a small plate of macaroons. Sitting on a narrow green bench she tilted her face up to the sun while she ate the sweet treats. Sassy barked excitedly at the booth of the man who sold organic eggs and was given a pat on her head and a sliver of egg as a reward from him.
Sophie bought crisp radicchio, tender butter lettuce, a pint of fresh berries and a jar of honey with the comb, a quarter pound of salted creamy butter and rustic bread whose outer crust was thick and crisp but whose inside promised to be tender and chewy. Sassy whined to be carried halfway home and Sophie had to tuck her under the crook of her arm and carry the heavy bag in the other hand.
She was tired when they got home but a glance at the clock showed it was time for her to head out to work. She gave Sassy a kiss on her head and a pat before heading back out the door, several large slices of bread and the jar of honey tucked into her lunch box.
Walking in the shop she found Geoff standing on a ladder, his head titled up at a very strange angle. “You’re going to break your neck up there.”
“I should be so lucky.” Geoff returned. “I am in the unfortunate position of having so many of these bodice ripping historical romances I find myself having to create a whole section for them. Look at these lurid covers, would you? They scream f**k me, you brute! Oh look, this one is about pirates.”
“What’s wrong with pirates? They can be very sexy.”
Geoff cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at her, “You look like a happy girl, should I ask if you got shanghaied by a pirate or maintain boss employee standards here?”
“I brought fresh honey and bread, if you would like some.”
“Nice evasive maneuver. I love honey, did you toast the bread?”
“Of course not, you have a toaster here. I did bring butter and some fresh berries too.”
“Aren’t we becoming quite the food snob? Good, I taught you well, I still can’t believe you liked frozen dinners when you came here.” Geoff said as he came down the ladder. “I happen to have a thermos filled with spilt pea soup on the counter and a carton of homemade cottage cheese replete with pearl onions and freshly cracked pepper in the fridge, we will eat like kings. Put a sign on the door telling the tourists to go f**k themselves and the regulars to do the same today.”
“By that you mean hang the back in twenty sign?” Sophie asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“You know damn well that is what I mean. If we said exactly what we meant we would not have any customers and then where would be?”
“Broke.”
“Homeless.”
“Hungry.”
“Reduced to working at a job that requires us to be soulless automatons to the machinery of commercialism.”
“You win.” Sophie said. “I don’t even want to try to keep up with a guy who lived on a commune and has a degree in political science.”
“No, you don’t. You should think about taking some classes though. Don’t think I don’t see you reading everything in sight. You need to think about furthering your education.”
“I can’t afford that.” Sophie kept her voice neutral but she knew Geoff knew she wanted to go to college desperately. “Maybe you should talk to my boss about giving me more hours.”
“Your boss is lucky to afford the rent,” Geoff said and headed for the back to get the soup and cottage cheese.
***
The day dragged for Kane. Janelle spoke to him briefly and while he found he still liked her and respected her and had no hard feelings he was not at all fond of working with her. She was meticulous; she went over every detail over and over again. It was part of what had made their relationship so difficult, he went by instinct and she relied on large doses of constant scrutiny and belaboring points until they were dead. He often thought that they had analyzed their relationship to death.
The profile was finally complete and he stared down at it. It had most of the typical details: white male, probably in his late forties, professional, likely not white collar however. He was not adverse to media attention but he had yet to contact the police, Janelle was positive that he was cognizant of and perhaps even manipulating parts of the investigation and said so over lunch.
“You know as well as I do that these types of killers often involve themselves with cases so that they can throw police off their tracks or so that they can manipulate the media into fearing them, it is a way to gain power for them.” She said as they chewed large sandwiches over his desk.
“With the media being everywhere these days it is a lot easier for one killer to get lost in the mix,” Kane put in, “So quite often they are resorting to bigger scenarios, even worse mutilations and so forth in order to gain attention. I’m not sure that’s playing a part in his accelerating kill rates but it could be.”
“Look at the way these women were killed,” Janelle said, “It’s like he started off hesitant and unsure but very enraged.”
“Then there were two that were almost perfunctory, until he got to the one who thought she was a goddess.”
“Then the rage kicked back in.”
“I don’t see a pattern,” Kane admitted as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s almost like he chose some of the victims and not the others. I think he may have killed some of the women, the ones who were tortured and killed the hardest, because he knew them and the others because he simply likes being the Creeper and didn’t want to fade from the news. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Did any of them know each other?” John Hamm finally put in. He sat in a chair close to the desk but not right at it. Kane was very well aware that John had chosen that position to use body language and perception to make it clear that he was there to help, not to encroach on Kane’s territory.
“If they did we haven’t found the link.”
Janelle pulled the files back toward her. Her white blouse pulled taut across her firm high br**sts as she did so and Kane saw Forrester’s eyes go to them. He cleared his throat and saw John’s face harden slightly. He knew that the two were not sleeping together, the older man simply found Forrester to be rude and for that Kane couldn’t blame him; the older cop had spent all day ogling Janelle, getting in the way and disrupting their brain storming with a lot of tiresome questions and pointless debating.
“Maybe we aren’t looking at this from the proper angle.” John said mildly. “Let’s stop looking at who these women were and start looking at who they weren’t.”
Forrester looked at him, a frown creasing his forehead. “I’m not following you chief,” he said in an openly hostile tone.
“All of the women did have one thing in common. They were almost famous. None of them were exactly unknown, even the ones who seemed to have been killed as an afterthought. They were all connected by one thing, they were all artists or models or musicians. The …what was her name? The medium? Jenny Fox…she claimed to be an artist too.”
“Maybe they all had an agent in common.” Kane suggested. “It would be a long shot but we could give it a try. We could put a couple of guys on it.”
“I don’t see where that makes any sense,” Forrester said through a mouthful of pastrami and rye, “You’re going to be wasting manpower on a bullshit wild goose hunt when they could be out on the streets looking for this guy.”
‘We are doing it.” Kane said; his eyes steely as he stared at the other man. He really hoped he would not have to break out the ‘I’m in charge’ card. For a second he almost pitied him, he was fifteen years Kane’s senior but he had been told to play second chair, it had to sting.
Forrester glared at him, his jaw working at the hunk of bread and meat then he dropped his eyes. Janelle spoke up, her voice deliberately neutral.
“I think we need to go back and reexamine as many of the actual crime scenes as possible. Get a feel for this firsthand.”
Kane stood, wiping his hands on a napkin and she stood as well. For one moment he had a sudden and disturbingly vivid memory of the two of them in bed: Janelle tied to the posts, her legs opened wide, her labia slick with fluids and him between her legs with one hand on his stiff c*ck and the other in her hair, pulling her face close to his for a kiss.
He turned away, the memory abruptly fading as another took its place: Sophie looking up at him, her eyes at half-mast and her face flushed with the crimson tide that foretold her orgasm.
Hard on the heels of that thought was a surge of anger. She had lied to him, she had given him a false name and he wasn’t sure why. Even if it had anything to do with her spotting the Creeper it was odd, she had to have trusted him, and she knew damn well he was not the killer.
Janelle and John stood quietly while he gave orders. Forrester had vanished; his ability to do so was almost uncanny. Kane was relieved because he didn’t want to have to give the man some makeshift type of work to keep him out of their hair.
***
The sun lent a burnished glow to the rooftops and the people walking home after a day at work all seemed exhausted. The tourists had thinned out, Sophie knew the theatres would be packed later but some of the streets seemed to be almost eerily quiet as she made her way home.
She paused at a crosswalk and her gaze flickered to the building opposite her and her heart dropped into her belly. Kane stood there, his head angled down to hear the words the beautiful blonde woman he was standing next to was saying. They were standing very close together, neither of them paying very much attention to the rest of the world around them.
Tears erupted from her eyes, startling her into movement. She whirled around and dashed back down the narrow street; intent on getting away she was oblivious to the stares of other pedestrians.
Kane looked up just as she disappeared down a corner so he never saw her there. Janelle asked, “Do you want to grab some dinner before we get back to work John?”
John, standing slightly behind the two said, “I saw a diner a few blocks down. I could use some coffee and a meal.”