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“For now, everybody will work from home. I don’t want to start a new case until we’re settled somewhere else. I’m hoping that won’t take long, but if it does, then we’ll find a way to work around it. Peter, it’s going to be up to you and Mary to keep us updated. Plus, we have the June Killer and two more cases that need our attention.”
Taylor cleared his throat and asked Peter, “Speaking of the June Killer, what happened with the program you were running on the bus stations?”
Peter sighed. “I’ve gotten a few hits, but it’s not of faces, only of clothes. People dress alike, so it could be the same person, or not – there’s no way to tell. I’m trying to rewrite the program to search for one item that stays the same. Like the same ball cap or the same shoes or T-shirt, but I’m not having much luck.”
Rainbow asked, “Can that program of yours take the routes the killer has used in the past and predict where he’ll go next?”
Peter brightened. “I don’t know, maybe. The number of possibilities is huge. I’ll give it a shot, but I doubt it’ll be able to pin it down to one route – maybe to a small enough number that we can afford to look at them.” With that, Peter darted into his office.
They were all laughing and smiling at the excitement Peter displayed at the new thought. Rainbow took advantage of having the floor to make an announcement. “It doesn’t take much to entertain Peter. Listen, everybody, while we’re talking, I want you to know that my real name is Tony. Please call me that. Rainbow is corny as hell and I’m getting very tired of it. I’m ready to come out.” He looked at Blake. “You got any problem with this?”
Blake shook his head. “Nope, this has always been up to you.”
Though it hurt Wayne’s ribs to do it, he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and said, “Thank God. I was feeling stupid calling a grown man Rainbow.”
Blake looked around. “If we don’t have anything else, let’s blow this pop stand.”
Tony said to Blake on the elevator, “By the way, I’ve moved in with Wayne, in case you wanted to know where I’m at. His couch is a lot closer than yours.”
Blake laughed. “I don’t normally get into my people’s personal business, but thanks for the update.”
Tony looked embarrassed. “It’s just cheaper for the two—”
Blake touched his brother’s arm. “Please don’t explain. I don’t care where you live.”
After that, there was an uncomfortable silence until Blake said, “With the team not having a home for a while, I’m giving everybody two weeks off for Christmas, starting next Friday. Get all your reports up to date before you take off.”
In the parking lot, everybody was saying good-bye. Bob called after Blake, “I need to speak with you for a minute.”
Blake leaned against his Jeep and waited. “What’s on your mind?”
Bob seemed to be fighting for the right words, but in the end he said, “The University of Minnesota has offered me a hell of a deal to come back, and I’ve accepted it.”
Blake hadn’t expected this, but he also wasn’t that surprised. “I know this hasn’t been what you expected, but we’re just getting started.”
Bob nodded. “I made it clear to them that as a condition of my return I would still consult with you and the team. If you have a need for me, call and I’ll be on the next plane.”
Blake grinned. “If you really mean that, I do have a job for you. I was going to wait until we got settled into our new home, but as you’re leaving, could you go through Decatur, Alabama, and check on some bodies for me?”
Bob hadn’t expected anything like this. “Is there something special about the bodies?”
Blake was happy he hadn’t misjudged Bob, who indeed seemed to be leaving because he was bored and not because of being offered more money. “That’s why I’d like you to have a look. The sheriff down there believes a group of white nationalists are behind some murders, but our computer says it’s a serial killer. I need you to find out which it is.”
Blake could see the wheels turning in Bob’s head, as the bored look turned to one of thoughtfulness. “I’ll be happy to swing by before I head north. Text me the location and contact information.”
Blake put out his hand. “I’ll do that and send the file to your computer. Good luck, Bob. We’ll miss you around here. And don’t be surprised when that phone rings – I’m sure this is only the beginning.”
Bob laughed and waved as he walked away. “I hope so, I get bored easily.”
Three weeks later, the team were standing in the middle of what had once been a dance floor holding in their arms the boxes they had just carried in from the small parking lot in front and wondering why there were no desks.
Blake noted the disappointment. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but we have a bar and a kitchen, and tables to work on for now. Think of it as a work in progress.”
Bobby walked to the bar and ran his hand across it. “Nice wood. This place isn’t that bad, and look down there – our big screen from A.P.S.”
As they all turned to look, Peter’s face jumped onto the screen. “Welcome to Blake’s Hideaway.” It was the first time any of them had seen Peter laugh. His own joke had cracked him up. He couldn’t control himself and began to snort. Soon everybody was laughing, and it went on for almost a minute.
With tears in his eyes, Blake held up his hands. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. Pull some tables together in front of the screen – that’s as good a place to start as any.”
They pulled and pushed the tables around until they had one long surface with chairs facing the screen. Without any order to the seating arrangement, they took a chair.
Tony was still trying to stop laughing. “I don’t know about you guys, but I like ‘Blake’s Hideaway’. And the place needs a name, doesn’t it?”
Bobby said, “I like it.”
Taylor had held back, not saying anything, just waiting and watching. He had doubts about the move, but naming a place made you a part of it, so maybe this was good, just what the team needed to be pulled back together. “So then, sounds like ‘Blake’s Hideaway’ is the name of our new home!”
Blake set his box down in the middle of the table and pulled out a chair. “I guess I have no say in this?”
It was agreed he had no say and the name stuck.
Peter, who was back to his all-business self, said, “I have a report from Shelley and two new printouts from the computer. I entered Bob Rivers’ findings from Decatur and the computer agrees with Bob that the stab wounds on all of the bodies were made by a round object, maybe an ice pick – below the right ear, under the right rib into the liver, and into both eyes. They were almost certainly administered by the same person. Everything else done to the bodies was postmortem. Someone wanted the sheriff to believe it was the white nationalists.”
Blake pulled a file from his box and slid it down to Tony. “Looks like Rainbow is back in the saddle. I spoke with Sheriff Ted Banks last night, and he still believes the white nationalists have something to do with the killings. I think he and Bob are both right. I want you to infiltrate the group and find our serial killer. I can’t think of a better place for him to hide – can you, Tony?”
Tony picked up the file and thumbed through it. “He’s killing blacks and Mexicans. If the killer’s part of that group, they won’t think of it as a serial killing, only as sweeping out the trash. Hell, they’ll protect him as long as he’s doing what they don’t have the guts to do but would sure like to.”
“Wayne, I want you in Decatur also. You’ll be Tony’s back-up and contact. The sheriff is expecting you, but he doesn’t know about Rainbow, so you’re his safety net.”
Blake looked at Bobby. “As for you, pack your bag – you’re going to Seattle. I’m worried about Shelley. She seems to be too much at home up there. I need you to get her back on track or let me know if I need to pull her out. All I’m getting from her is reports about what local law enforcement is doing. I need the two of you to develop new ideas or let the locals handle it themselves. Kicking the same can down the street is not going to cut it.”
Taylor stood up. “You have your assignments. Leave your things, and by the time you come back this place will be a work of art. Now hit the road.”
Blake waited until the room emptied before asking Peter, “How are things going over there?”
Peter shrugged. “It’s a little lonely. Mary spends a lot of time with Mandia, but that keeps her out of my business. I guess it’s a curse and a blessing at the same time.”
Taylor came back from seeing everybody off. “What did the computer come up with on our June Killer?”
Peter typed something into his program, and its display showed on the big screen. “I have it down to four routes. I’m not sure I can get it any closer. At first, the computer gave me ten, and I can’t be sure that the constraints I put in to get it down to four are even right. It’s mostly guesswork.”
Taylor noticed that none of the four started at the same place. “Wouldn’t the killer be starting from the same place each time? These starts are all over the board.”
Peter was shaking his head. “No, no, those are not starting points. The computer has no information that would allow it to specify that. The first location may be the first kill, or the last. The killer goes in circles, but there is no way for the computer to know which way the circle will be running – only that it will be a circle.”
Blake stood up. “Send the map of the routes to Taylor’s and my computer. Thanks, Peter.”
Taylor walked with Blake to the bar. “You wouldn’t have any cold beer back there, would you?”
Blake laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
| Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers |
“Blake’s Hideaway” – I like it!
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