Casanova Killer, An SSCD Crime Thriller
“That wasn’t me. I think I blacked out when you started doing that thing with your tongue.” He teased.
“Oh, yeah? Well, I guess we need a repeat performance, wouldn’t want you to miss anything.” She began to lower her head again, prompting Ethan to grab her shoulders.
“Oh, no, you don’t, I’ll never survive it again, not this soon.” He drew her up to him for a prolonged kiss.
“Are you sure you can’t move?” Jerry asked when she could breathe again. “I’d like to go to the bedroom. It’s much softer in there.”
“Will you let me sleep?” Ethan grinned, but his eyes were closed.
“Probably not.” She answered promptly.
“Then yes, I can move.” Without warning, he rolled over, scooped her up, and carried her off to the bedroom, laughing at her expression of surprise.
Chapter Sixteen
“I really don’t want you to go.” Jerry buried her face in Ethan’s shoulder as they stood at the door.
“I really don’t want to go.” He told her quietly, stroking a hand over her hair. “I’m still not comfortable letting you be alone with him.” His voice turned possessive. “And I can’t stand the thoughts of his hands on you.”
“I know. I promise I’ll do my best to keep that to a minimum. You know we have to let him think I’m falling for him, but I’ll keep it strictly G-rated.”
“See that you do.” Ethan crushed her in a bear hug. “They’ll put me in prison for killing him, just for touching you. Then where will we be?” He kissed her forehead, trying to lighten the mood.
“Just know that I’m doing my job. Not only does this creep deserve to pay for what he’s already done, but by putting him away, we’re saving countless women’s lives.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Just be careful, please. I can’t lose you, now that I’ve finally found you.”
Jerry felt warm all over at his words. “I’ve no intention of losing you either.”
~~~
“You look like death warmed over,” Dylan greeted Ethan, when he came into the local FBI office.
“Shut-up, Dawes.” Ethan was in no mood to parry with the other man. As if leaving Jerry wasn’t bad enough, the decoy flight he’d taken, just in case Casanova was watching the airstrip, was bumpy and turbulent. To top it off, the ride back to the office from the godforsaken field they’d finally landed in was stop and go. Ethan had had about enough already from this day, he didn’t need Dylan making things worse.
“Rough trip?” Dylan ignored the storm warnings crossing Ethan’s face and rubbed it in.
“What’s happening with Jerry and Casanova?” Ethan ignored Dylan’s taunt.
“So far, he’s followed her to yoga, the café, and back home. He never made contact.” Dylan frowned. “He’s driving a black Lamborghini, brand new. We haven’t had a chance to tag it yet.”
“Well, it’s a damn good thing he hasn’t made contact. What are you people thinking? We have to track him at all times. Jerry’s life depends on it.”
The vehemence behind Ethan’s words surprised Dylan. “He picked up the car this morning, we’ll tag it as soon as he leaves it. You don’t have to tell me anything about Jerry’s life.” Dylan got in Ethan’s face.
“Apparently, I do.” Ethan didn’t back down. “Under no circumstances is she to get into that car with him without tracking being enabled.” The men were standing toe to toe, practically nose to nose. Dylan read fear, and something else, in the glare of Ethan’s eyes.
Taking a step back, Dylan perched on the corner of a desk. “You really care about her.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Hell yes, I care about her. I plan to …” He stopped talking before he could tell Dylan that he planned to marry Jerry. Jerry deserved to be the first to hear that.
“You plan to what?” Dylan narrowed his eyes.
“None of your business. I care very much for Jerry, and I don’t intend to let your imbecilic moves endanger her life.”
“Jerry’s been my partner since she joined the agency. Don’t you worry about me endangering her life. I’ll protect her with my own.”
“As long as we’re clear.” Ethan resisted the urge to poke Dylan in the chest. “Jerry is mine. I’ll scrap this assignment before I let any harm come to her.”
Dylan heard the truth in Ethan’s words, clear as day. The man was staking his claim with a seriousness that Dylan hadn’t believed he was capable of. “You’re in love with her.” He mumbled, the heat leaving his tone.
“I’m not discussing that with you.” Ethan backed off, returning to his chair.
Confused, Dylan didn’t pursue the subject. His own thoughts turned to the vision he’d had of Jerry crying her eyes out, and Ethan, nowhere to be seen. If Slick didn’t leave her voluntarily, he thought, maybe something happens to him. Dylan began to pace, ignoring Ethan completely. It was possible; love skews a man’s instincts, makes him react before he thinks. Dylan knew that all too well.
He briefly considered insisting that Ethan return to Interpol, but he knew the man wouldn’t go. Besides, if he sent him away behind Jerry’s back, there’d be hell to pay. It was as obvious as the nose on her face that Jerry was head over heels for Slick. Crap.
The sound of his cell phone ringing jerked Dylan out of his internal dilemma. “Dawes,” he barked, in answer to the ring.
“He made contact.” Agent Rhodes, one of the local FBI force charged with monitoring Casanova’s movements, barked back.
“Where?” Dylan’s voice was crisp and no-nonsense.
“He approached her as she left her building. Seems to be asking for directions.”
Ethan joined Dylan by the window. He could tell by the Dylan’s stance that something had happened.
“Where is Jerry right now?” Dylan asked.
“She’s standing by her car, talking to Casanova.”
“Where is Rodney?”
“He’s in the car. He got out, but Jerry told him she was fine, to wait while she helped the nice man.”
“Sounds like Jerry. Send a visual feed to my phone.”
“Will do.”
Within seconds, an image of Casanova, leaning casually against Jerry’s car, and Jerry, standing comfortably in front of him, filled Dylan’s phone screen.
“Dammit.” Ethan cursed as he looked over Dylan’s shoulder.
“They’re just talking, Rodney’s in the car.”
“Does she know we haven’t got a trace on his car yet?”
“Yes, she knows. Chill out, Barnes, or I’ll send you back to Europe.” Dylan threatened.
“You can try.” Ethan growled back. “Why can’t we hear anything?”
“The agents are too far away. You don’t want ‘em to be made, do you?”
“Why the hell is Rodney in the car? He should be closer.”
“Jerry told him to stay put. Look, Barnes, I know how you feel about Jerry, but you’re gonna have to accept that she knows what she’s doing. You know they’ll have to be alone together, behind closed doors, before this thing is through. The sooner you get a grip on that, the better.”
Ethan didn’t respond. His focus was totally, and completely, on the phone screen. Jerry looked beautiful, but then she always did. Her body language was relaxed, even a little flirty, exactly the way she should have been playing it.
Ethan’s eyes shifted to Casanova, resting against the back bumper of the town car, like he hadn’t a care in the world. His smile appeared genuine, his hands were in his pockets, and his legs were crossed at the ankles. To a casual observer, he was one hundred percent non-threatening, perhaps even a little charming. Ethan hissed.
As they watched, Jerry gave him her hand, which he slowly brought to his lips. She smiled and nodded agreement with something, then allowed him to open the car door and assist her inside.
“Bastard better not get in behind her.” Ethan mumbled, then watched as Casanova closed the door with a smile, and a wave. His sigh of relief had jus
t escaped when Dylan’s phone rang.
“What’s happening, Jerry?” Dylan placed the call on speaker.
“We’re meeting in an hour for coffee around the corner. He said his name is Elliott Carson James, just arrived from London.” Dylan was already walking with the phone to his computer.
“I’ll run it, but we already know it’s an alias. What else?”
“This guy is smoooooth,” Jerry exaggerated the word. “I can understand how so many women fell for him. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d just met a prince.”
“You did,” Ethan chimed in. “The prince of darkness.”
Jerry laughed. “Glad to hear you made it full circle, Ethan.” Jerry felt a glow just hearing his voice. “You’re right, of course, but I’ve met a lot of serials, and I can tell you that this one is different. His eyes are bright and engaging, not blank, like the ones we’ve captured alive in the past.”
“How did he approach you?” Ethan asked.
“New in town, looking for directions. He also established his wealth right away, made sure I knew that the black Lamborghini was his.” Jerry paused. “You know, his need to overcompensate could mean that he’s impotent.”
“None of his victims showed signs of sexual assault, but we assumed that any sexual relationship he had with them was consensual.” Dylan turned away from his computer. “You may be onto something there, Jerry. The flashy cars, the wining and dining, the entire romantic build up to his kills, could indicate impotence.”
“Do you think he kills them because he can’t have sex?” Ethan asked, cheered by the possibility that Jerry would not have to make excuses to Casanova for not sleeping with him.
“It could be frustration, but it could also be a replication.” Dylan answered. “The physical similarities between the victims indicate that he’s killing the same woman, over and over. If we knew the identity of that woman, we’d know a lot more about our killer.”
“Do you think the woman he’s repetitively killing is dead, or alive?” Ethan questioned, warming to their new theory.
“That depends. If she’s his mother, or some other ideal that he’s set up on a pedestal, she could still be alive. The repetitive killings indicate his desire to take her life, while emphasizing his inability to do so; i.e. another form of impotence.” Jerry explained. “If he’s already killed her, something about the murder either did not satisfy him, and he’s killing to achieve the gratification he was denied, or her murder was so satisfying that he’s repeating it, strictly for the thrill.”
“What do you know about the first woman he killed?” Dylan asked Ethan. “Something more than what is in the file.”
“The first two bodies were discovered months after the actual murders. The rate of decomposition made it difficult to determine which one was killed first. According to the medical reports, both women were killed within days of each other.”
“That’s the only time that his kills are so close together.” Jerry offered. “That’s significant, from a profile standpoint, but it fits either scenario of killing to find denied satisfaction, or killing to repeat the thrill.”
“We need to take a closer look at those first two women. One of them may hold clues to his identity.” Dylan looked to Ethan. “I assume you checked if either woman reported having a stalker, or had been part of an abusive relationship of any kind.”
“None of the victims in England, or in Italy, had reported anything of that nature.” Ethan told him. “We know how to look for red flags.”
“Did you interview friends of the victims; sometimes women don’t report stalkers or abuse, for various reasons.” Jerry chimed in over the phone.
Ethan opened his briefcase. “I came on the case after the third victim was discovered. By the time I interviewed friends and families of the first two victims, months had passed, and no one had anything significant to offer.” He retrieved several files and began flipping through the pages. “I do seem to recall an odd coincidence surrounding one of the first two victims. Elizabeth Rogers had a fiancé who was missing at the time her body was discovered. For a time, the police thought he might be responsible for the first two killings, but parts of his body were later discovered in a nearby cave. He was an avid hiker and his death was attributed to a fall, as evidenced by significant depressions to his skull. The fact that only a few body parts remained seemed to fit the scenario, thanks to the high concentration of wild animals in the secluded area where he was found.” Ethan recapped the case.
“That’s a convenient coincidence, the victim’s fiancé being killed within the same time-frame. What if Casanova killed the fiancé, and disposed of the body where he knew animals would take care of the evidence?” Dylan began to pace.
“But why? He’s hasn’t killed any of the other companions. I’ll give you that it’s a strange coincidence, but how does it fit in with the profile?”
“If Elizabeth was his first victim, then she could hold special significance in his life. Killing her fiancé would have been personal, not a standard part of his M.O.” Jerry answered. “It was the exception to the rule, the trigger that created the monster, the reason for his need to kill again.” She took a breath. “We need to go deeper into Elizabeth Roger’s life. Talk to her best friends, her family. Find out everything we can about her relationships, prior to the one with her fiancé, as well as if anyone, or anything, made her uncomfortable near the time of her death.”
“I can do that.” Ethan checked his watch for the time difference. “It’s almost eight p.m. there, not too late to make calls. Jerry, be careful at the café.”
“Yes, sir.” His concern touched her today, whereas it had previously been extremely annoying.
“We already have agents inside the café; another will add the tracking device to his car while you’re inside. To be on the safe side, do not even think of getting into the car with him until we’re positive the tracker is working. Make plans for later tonight, or tomorrow, but do not go away with him today.” Dylan’s orders irked her a little, but she didn’t let it show.
“Of course not. Standard procedure.” She reminded him. “I’ll handle Elliott, you two work on finding out more about Elizabeth. My gut is telling me we’re onto something there.”
“Mine too. Call us when the meeting’s over.” Dylan told her before disconnecting the call.
~~~
“I’ve heard wonderful things about the local symphony, and just happen to have tickets for tomorrow night’s performance.” Elliott walked the perfect line between cool aloofness and smitten suitor. “Would you care to accompany me?” His mannerisms did not seem affected, but he’d rehearsed his approach for hours, not wanting to seem too eager, nor too distant, in order to intrigue the beguiling Jerry.
“The symphony? I’ve never been, but it could be fun.” Jerry tossed her hair, not willing to seem too eager.
“Wonderful.” Elliott’s eyes sparkled with delight, but his demeanor did not change. “Shall I call for you, around seven, tomorrow evening? We’ll have drinks before and dinner afterward, if that suits you.”
“I look forward to it,” Jerry pushed her coffee cup away, indicating that she was ready to leave. “Have the doorman ring me when you arrive and I’ll come down.”
“Perfect,” Elliott rose and extended his hand. Standing, Jerry took it. He brought her fingertips to his lips. “Until we meet again, sweet Jerry.”
Jerry returned his smile, and even managed to blush, all the while fighting the urge to jerk her hand away.
~~~
“Elizabeth’s sister remembers a man hanging around the gallery, where Elizabeth had a showing of her paintings, in the weeks before she was killed. She said he gave Elizabeth the creeps, but he was a patron, so she tolerated him. There was nothing overt, nothing sinister, just a feeling that he gave her, so there was really nothing to report.” Ethan told Dylan, just as Jerry phoned in to recap her meeting.
“Instincts are powerful things; more people should l
isten to them.” Dylan remarked.
“Yeah, but how do you report an instinct?” Jerry added. “Did the sister say anything else about the man? If he was a patron, I assume he had money.”
“He definitely appeared to be wealthy. The only other thing she said was that the man tried to give Elizabeth a ring, a rather large diamond, in fact, as a tip for helping him select several pieces to hang in his downtown flat. Elizabeth did not accept the diamond.”
“I’d say that was significant. Who gives someone a diamond as a tip?” Dylan scoffed.
“Someone trying to impress a woman, that’s who.” Jerry told him. “Did the sister mention this to the cops, after Elizabeth was found murdered?”
“No, she said she didn’t put it together, until I asked if anyone made Elizabeth uncomfortable around the time of her death.”
“I don’t suppose the sister knew the man’s name?” Dylan was hopeful.
“Not his full name, but she said that Elizabeth referred to him as ‘Prince Jonathan’ in deference to his attitude, not the fact that he was truly a royal.”
“If he hadn’t killed before, then Jonathan may be his real name. No need for an alias if you haven’t done anything wrong.” Dylan remarked. “If he made purchases, the gallery should have a record. I’ll get Nate on it. Jerry, tell Ethan about your date.” Dylan handed Ethan the phone. He promptly took it off speaker and pressed it to his ear.
“So, how are you?” he asked. “When are you seeing him again?”
“I’m fine, really. He was a perfect gentleman. We’re going to the symphony tomorrow night. Drinks first, dinner afterwards.”
Ethan growled low in his throat. “If he shows up in his car, insist that Rodney drive you.”
Jerry tried to hide her chuckle. “I know you’re still concerned for my safety, but I’ll have to be alone with him sometime. We may as well get it started.”
“If Nate finds out his true identity, we may have other reasons to arrest him, and this whole exercise will be moot.” Ethan was grasping at straws.
“Short of evidence of another murder, we’ll still have to go through with it, so we can tie him to the women he killed. Please, let’s not have this conversation again.” Jerry pleaded.