on it.” She could tell that Detective Werner was on his feet, ready to grab his partner and take off. He and his precinct had worked with Claire often enough to know she was the real deal.
“Please keep me posted.”
“I will.”
Claire disconnected the call, feeling ill as well as oddly attached to the vision. Like it was personal. But she’d never met the victim. She was sure of that. So why couldn’t she shake this sense of personal dread? She’d consulted for the NYPD and local police departments for years before coming on board at Forensic Instincts. She knew the drill. And this was out of the realm of normal. There was something more going on here.
And that something involved her Forensic Instincts family.
She knew what she had to do next.
* * *
Casey had just arrived back at the office. She was on her way down to Ryan’s lair to compare notes when her iPhone rang.
The number was blocked.
“Casey Woods,” she answered.
“You’re putting your energy in the wrong place, Red.” The weird tinny words told Casey that, whoever the caller was, he was using a voice scrambler. “That girl’s case is as cold as her body. But the one who just died? Her body is still warm.”
“Who is this?”
“The last person you’re going to see before you close your eyes forever.” A chilling laugh. “The blood chain is under way. It will end with you. Spin your wheels and try to stop it.”
The line went dead.
“Casey?” Marc had been parking the van. He walked inside and was standing behind Casey in time to see her ashen expression. “What’s the matter? You’re white as a sheet.”
Before Casey could answer, her phone rang again. She startled, then stared at the caller ID. It was Claire.
“Claire, I can’t talk now,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“You have to.” Claire was literally vibrating. “I just called the Eighty-fourth Precinct. Something’s happening. Someone’s being tortured and killed. It’s happening in Brooklyn. And it’s drawing me to you.” Claire’s voice broke. “Oh, my God—she’s dead. He killed her. He raped her and he killed her. He’s still with the body. He’s doing something to it. But she’s dead. And you have to know that. I don’t know why. But you do.”
Casey’s own stomach was turning over. “Claire. Listen to me. I need you to focus. Tell me everything. Everything.”
“I did.” It was clear that Claire sensed the rising hysteria in Casey’s voice. “Why?”
“Because I think I just got a phone call from the killer.”
Chapter Seven
The body was located just after 1:00 a.m. at a warehouse on Jay Street.
Identification was no problem, since Kendra’s purse hadn’t been touched, so neither had her driver’s license or student ID.
The medical examiner did his job and filed his report. The parents were notified. They lived locally, so they rushed over to identify the body. It was a heartbreaking scene.
Tom hated this part of his job.
Once he’d dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s, he dropped wearily back in his chair and rubbed his temples. His tired gaze fell on the phone and he stared at it for a long time. The case was now a wide-open homicide. No aspect of it should be discussed. But Claire had been instrumental in their discovering it. She had a right to know.
Tom picked up the phone and punched in her cell number.
Claire answered on the first ring. She was with the entire FI team, gathered around the second-floor conference table, downing cup after cup of coffee.
“This is an unofficial call, Claire,” Tom stated flatly. “I shouldn’t even be making it. But given our prior professional relationship and the fact that you initiated this entire search, I’ll tell you what I can.”
“Thanks, Tom.” Claire put down her coffee cup. “You found the girl. I don’t need to ask you if she was dead.”
“No, you don’t.”
Claire nodded sadly. “I’m with my team,” she informed him. “May I put you on speakerphone?”
“We’re really pushing the envelope here. But fine.”
Claire pressed the speaker button and set her phone in the center of the table. “Go ahead.”
“It was pretty much as you described. The body was in a warehouse on Jay Street.”
“Shit. That’s my neck of the woods,” Ryan muttered.
“She was nude,” Tom continued. “Her clothing was torn to shreds. Her wrists were bound together. There was physical evidence of rape. The hyoid bone in her neck was fractured, indicating strangulation. The body was wrapped in a canvas tarp. Pieces of her hair had been snipped off. There was a red ribbon tied around her throat in a bow. And he’d applied lipstick to her lips. It was almost like he was leaving us a carefully wrapped gift, as sick as that is.”
“Sounds like a signature mark of some kind.” Marc spoke up. “Detective Werner, this is Marc Devereaux, one of Claire’s colleagues. I realize this entire conversation is off the record. So can you give me a description of the girl?”
“Caucasian. Petite—about five foot three, a hundred and five pounds. Brown eyes, shoulder-length red hair.”
There was a long moment of silence at the conference table before Casey spoke up.
“This is Casey Woods, Detective. What else can you tell us about the victim?”
“Her name was Kendra Mallery. She was a freshman at Columbia. Her family’s been notified and they’ve ID’d the body, but they’re in shock and not able to tell us much. I haven’t spoken to any of her friends yet. So I don’t know too many details about her habits or where she was headed when she was abducted.” Tom paused. “I realize Claire is invested in this because she visualized the crime. But I get the feeling there’s more at stake here. Why is your team asking so many questions?”
“Because it’s possible the killer was in touch with me at the time of the murder.” Casey tried to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“What?”
She went on to explain the call she’d gotten, reporting it as accurately as possible. She also told Tom about the cold case they were investigating and her caller’s allusion to it.
“Shit,” Tom muttered. “That’s no coincidence. The killer is targeting you. And keeping tabs on you in the process. Do you have any idea who he is?”
“None.” Casey fiddled with her pen as she spoke. “But the description you gave of the victim? It could as easily be a description of me. And not just the physical elements. I got my undergraduate degree at Columbia.”
At this point, the tension in the conference room was suffocating.
“Look,” Casey said at last. “We can speculate all we want. But the truth is, we have nothing but an untraceable, voice-scrambled phone call and a series of coincidences. That’s not enough to take action.”
“It’s enough to assign you police protection,” Ryan said.
“Minimal protection,” Marc corrected. “Our team can provide a whole lot more.” He cleared his throat. “Tom, based on Claire’s tip, which led to your finding the body, along with the threats that were made against Casey—could you speak to your captain about Forensic Instincts working together with your precinct on solving this one? Our skills