Page 35 of Dark Angel
Beth waited for Styles to speak to TJ, and when the bone was wrapped, she followed them out of the door. “How far is the hospital from here?”
“Ten minutes or so.” Styles opened the back door of the truck for Bear to climb inside and then slid behind the wheel.
As they headed through town, Beth ran a few questions through her mind to ask their first suspect. Late the previous night, she’d completed a background check on Ainsley Rice and discovered he spent approximately three months in each location before moving on. This was quite common in his profession, and she’d discovered the pattern of the other travel nurse, Emerson Green, was almost identical. After correlating their movements with the murders in neighboring states, either of the two men could be the Pied Piper. This had left the courier, Lawrence Dawson, in the clear unless she dug a little deeper and discovered that he’d moved around considerably during his career, but she had only traced him to three other locations where abductions or murders had taken place.
All three men had something in common: they were single, lived alone, moved around constantly in their occupations, and had possible access to young children. All three would not be considered a threat to either parents or kids. Considering these facts, she decided that the three of them were prime suspects.
“Going back to our conversation about psychopaths, do you mind if I pick your brain?” Styles flicked her a glance as they hit the main highway.
Beth shook her head. “No. Go right ahead.”
“I’ve worked many murder cases.” Styles shrugged. “Most of them have a very plain motive. It’s usually jealousy, money, cheating spouses, or gang related. When I find a woman stabbed to death, I consider the extent of the injuries to determine who was responsible. Most times men slap a woman around for a long time during spousal abuse, but a man who kills his cheating wife usually stabs them. A woman who attacks another woman for stealing her husband or boyfriend usually goes for the face. A man will often strangle his nagging girlfriend or wife, I figure to shut them up.” He flicked her a glance. “I’ve seen opportunistic kills, where someone lets their fantasy get too much for them and strikes at the first opportunity, but afterward they show remorse. This isn’t what I’m seeing in our current case. It seems to me that the Pied Piper is enjoying himself. The grooming, stalking, and murdering the girls is a game to him. What I can’t get my head around is that he must be a nice guy on the outside or people would be suspicious of him.”
Understanding his confusion, Beth turned in her seat to look at him. “You really should invest in reading agent Jo Wells’ books on psychopathic behavior. She has spent a good deal of time visiting them in jail and conducting in-depth interviews to learn more about their behavioral variations.” She pushed back her hoodie and tidied her hair, looking at her reflection in the side mirror and then tying it neatly into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.
“As I don’t have time to read all of her books, give me a rundown of the basics.” Styles turned onto a series of backroads. “I know you’ve talked about this before, but is there a ten-point plan for when we’re dealing with someone like this?”
It would take a long time to run through every anomaly of a psychopath’s behavioral pattern. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Too much information at this time could point a finger at her, although her ploy to avoid suspicion by disagreeing and arguing with him should dissolve any unwanted attention. “I suppose we could work something out that could help. Let me see.” She stared at the road ahead, both sides were bathed in the colors of fall, from the wheatgrass to the trees and bushes. She appreciated nature and understood that was another of her peculiarities. “There is no particular type. They can be male or female, in any walk of life, rich or poor, but one thing they have in common is that they are very smart. Not necessarily academically smart, but they seem to be able to assess situations extremely fast and act on them. If they are speaking with you and you throw them a difficult question, they can come up with an excuse in a nanosecond.”
“So, they usually plan their kills?” Styles nodded as if to himself. “You mentioned an organized psychopath. Are they all organized?”
Beth shook her head. “No, some of them might see a person on the street who triggers the need to kill. This person is usually a representative of someone who triggered their violent psychopathy in the past, like a bully, an abusive parent, or someone who embarrassed them. It’s not cut and dried. They’re all different. An opportunistic killer would usually follow their victim until they had the chance to strike, and they usually leave the bodies where they drop. That doesn’t mean to say they wouldn’t return to look at them later. It’s usually the opportunistic killers who have a fascination with the dead bodies of their victims. Organized psychopathic killers plan everything to the last second. These rarely make a mistake and go on to continue their killing spree for years at a time.”
“You mentioned some of them going back to visit the bodies.” Styles grimaced. “Wouldn’t that be a dangerous thing to do?”
Beth noticed signs to the hospital and was relieved the interrogation would be over shortly. She wondered if Styles had gotten suspicious of her, although she believed she’d covered her tracks really well. She looked at him. “Another thing about serial killers is they believe they can’t be caught, so if part of their fantasy is necrophilia, they’ll act upon it. Going back to the scene before the cops have found the body is like a victory to them. They don’t have any feelings or remorse for their victims. None of them do. They would only be visiting them again to relive the fantasy.” She sighed. “The majority of them take a trophy to help them relive the thrill of the kill, but usually in their minds they’re killing the same person over and over again. Once the victim is dead, they no longer have any value. They can’t kill a person more than once, can they?”
“Anything else of importance, I should know?” Styles turned into the hospital parking lot and drove up and down rows of vehicles looking for a space.
Beth turned to face him. “They could be your best friend, the guy next door, the person you are working beside because you would never know. The one piece of good advice that I should give you is that, if you confront one, remember that negotiation is off the table. They will kill you at the first opportunity.” She sighed. “I’m sure victims plead for their lives, but by doing this they’re only feeding the psychopath’s fantasy.”
“Okay.” Styles turned in his seat to face her. “I owe you an apology.”
Beth frowned. “How so?”
“Everything you’ve told me is true.” Styles looked abashed. “I’ve studied psychopathic serial killers, but not to the extent that you have, but Mac told me you had what he called an unnatural obsession with them. When he spoke to me about you coming here, he mentioned that you were too smart for your own good. He said your rash decisions and taking off alone without appropriate backup would likely make you a victim. This is another one of the reasons he sent you here to be with me. I’ve seen both sides of you. You have a hunger for solving crimes, but I also see a very deep-rooted desire for justice.”
Shaking her head, Beth stared at him. “Apology accepted, but I’m not sure why you had to question me in such an underhand way. Over the last few days, I believe we’ve gotten on really well. Yeah, we’ve had certain procedural differences and we don’t see eye to eye all of the time, but together we have made more ground on the Pied Piper killer than any other team in the entire USA.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “I’m glad you came clean with me, but next time any of the directors ask questions about my sanity, come straight to the source. I’m an open book and will tell you like it is. All you have to do is ask.”Well, some of it might be true.
THIRTY-FIVE
The redbrick building had a majestic air to it. It wasn’t the usual square slab-sided construction Beth had expected. As they approached the large glass doors out front, she noticed the date, 1930, displayed on a brass plate attached to the wall. The staggered display of windows would have been an early art deco design and not one she had seen used for a hospital. The theme continued throughout and was reflected above each door and corridor. Mesmerized by the uniqueness of the building, Beth slowed her step to just soak it in. Although the contents of the hospital appeared to be brand new, the original design had been preserved throughout. When Styles turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting such an incredible building hidden away in such a small town. Why did they build something this big?”
“Rattlesnake Creek isn’t really a small town. It’s just that the population is concentrated to the mining camps.” He waved a hand dismissively. “This was built because in that time, accidents were frequent in the mines and we still have our share. Our town is growing year on year, and it’s difficult to get staff. We have specialists who move from one hospital to another in this part of the country. Many of the doctors on staff live here but some are like the travel nurses. They stay for three to six months and then move on to somewhere else.”
Beth nodded and followed him to the front counter. “Yes, of course the mines. I keep forgetting how many of them are in this area.”
After speaking to the person at the front desk they located Ainsley Rice. He was working in the children’s ward on the second floor. Beth accessed a photo of him, taken from his driver’s license, and showed it to Styles. Acting as casual as possible they moved through the ward until they found him, dressing the wound of a little girl. They stopped and observed him for a few moments. Rice used a soft voice as he spoke to the child and spent time with her after he’d finished. Beth had to admit his bedside manner was faultless. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper and turned to Styles. “He’s smooth as silk and can obviously gain a child’s trust without any problems.” She shrugged. “This is probably what they all aim for when treating children. I’ve checked and none of the victims has been hospitalized over the last year. I don’t think either of our travel nurses has been alone with them.”
“We can’t discount anyone until you’ve taken a look at Brooklyn Daniels’ iPad.” Styles narrowed his gaze on the man. “He’s in the height range. You question him and find out if he was anywhere near the murder scenes. He might be intimidated by me and clam up.”
Nodding, Beth took a notebook and pen out of her pocket. She had been told over the years that the way she looked at people intimidated them. She had been working on trying to soften her approach. Waiting until Rice moved away from the child and removed his gloves and went to a wash basin, she headed in his direction. “Could we have a word with you, Mr. Rice?” She flipped open her cred pack and held it up to him. “Do you have a break room anywhere close by?”
“FBI? What could you possibly want to talk to me about, Agent Katz?” Rice methodically washed his hands and then dried them on a paper towel before turning to her. “Wait! Not in front of the patients. It might upset them.”
Beth nodded. “You seem very good with kids. Is pediatrics part of your nursing specialty?”
“I work over a wide area.” Rice straightened. “But I love kids. I’ve always wanted little girls of my own, but unfortunately they grow up. Marriage doesn’t interest me. The thought of being tied to one woman all my life and watching her grow old isn’t in my future.”
