Relatively Rainey (22 page)

“A kid that is now missing sent it to me. Three different teenagers identified it as belonging to Jedidiah Lilly, including the two fished out of that pond. There’s only one left and he’s not missing yet, but he will be if we don’t find him soon. I believed his story, Sheila. I’m afraid someone else did too, and if that someone found out Wendy knew anything about it, she could have been targeted for that reason.”

Sheila headed for the door. “I’ll get Lilly downtown. Let me think about how, but I’ll get him down there. Nothing would please me more than to take down that lunatic and his church of fundamentalist idiots. How in the hell he got elected, I will never know.”

“He will wet his pants when I show him this picture. Be sure to have the cameras rolling in the interview room. It will play well for the jury at his trial. And Sheila,” Rainey reached out to stop her from leaving the room, “if the fetish killer did not take Wendy, she’s in a lot worse trouble.”

“How so?”

Rainey was painfully honest with her answer.

“If Aaron Engel or the pimp took her, they would have no reason to keep her alive.”

Sheila was a good detective and made a valid point. “Why take her at all? Why not kill her here?”

“Who knows?” Rainey answered, again honestly because she could only think of one reason. “Wendy may have negotiated with him to remove her from the house because of Mack. You said she left walking beside him. Aaron Engel has kids. If it were him, he could have been empathetic toward Mack’s situation. The pimp may simply have realized the circus he would have created if Mack were harmed or left with a dead body. The media coverage is relentless when a child is involved.”

“Oh, speaking of media,” Sheila said as they exited the room together, “your favorite cable crime reporter is outside.”

“Cookie Kutter is out there?”

“Yes, and she knows Wendy is your sister.”

“Of course she does,” Rainey said, annoyed and preparing for the worst.

Sheila smiled up at Rainey. “If you hit her, make it a good one. I’ll testify you were under mental duress. You’d probably get community service.”

Rainey smiled back at her. “Ooo, now that is tempting.”

#

Cookie started yelling out questions the second Rainey exited Wendy’s house.

“Rainey, how do you feel about causing your sister’s abduction?”

Rainey said, under her breath, “It’s amazing how much damage hair dye can do to a brain.”

Sheila heard the comment and covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

Cookie persisted. “Why would you allow your child to be placed in such danger, knowing the Triangle Terror left you a note on one of his murder victim’s doors?”

Sheila stopped laughing. No one outside of a very few people knew that information. She looked back at Rainey. “I’ll get to the bottom of that.”

“Rainey Bell, were you at Quantico yesterday for a mental evaluation?”

“Keep walking, keep walking,” Rainey said to herself.

Cookie went for broke with the next questions.

“Is it true, former Agent Bell, that you nearly shot your own three-year-old child and ordered him to get on the ground like a common criminal? Have you no shame, Rainey? Isn’t it true that you’ve endangered the lives of everyone in your family with your failures as a profiler, and now your sister is probably dead because of your ineptitude?”

Rainey's eyes had been trailing the ground in front of her, but the last words from her nemesis snapped her head up to glare in Cookie's direction. It was that moment Rex King chose to jerk the microphone away from the crime show crusader and fling it to the ground. Unable to punch her in the nose and with no other recourse available to vent his anger, Rex snatched a fried pie from the hand of a gawking neighbor and forced it into Cookie's gaping mouth. “Shut up, you crazy bitch. Just shut the fuck up,” he shouted.

Cookie threw her arms out and feigned a faint, but sadly no one tried to stop her fall. She fell backward onto the ground, where she rolled around, spitting out fried pie and screaming like she'd been shot.

Officers were quickly on Rex. His career was toast. He turned to Rainey and yelled, “Find her, Rainey. Find my baby girl.”

Rainey walked over to Rex, who now had his hands behind his back, as the handcuffs were being applied.

“Rex, I will find her. You have to trust me. And when this is over, the three of us will sit down and have the beer I’m going to buy you for doing something I have wanted to do for a very long time.”

She turned to Cookie. Although there was some cherry filling visible on her cheek, it did not warrant the display of suffering Cookie’s cameraman recorded. Rainey picked up the microphone Rex had thrown to the ground.

She called out to the cameraman, “Is this live? Are you still rolling?”

He nodded yes and moved the camera to focus on Rainey.

Rainey raised the microphone to her mouth and said with a smile, “My name is Rainey Bell. I’m Cookie Kutter's obsession. She’s been in love with me for years. And no matter how many times I tell her I’m married and not interested, she cries and begs. It’s really quite dramatic and pitiable the way she twists things in an attempt to get my attention. My family, in particular, my wife, would be grateful if someone would distract Cookie from this incessant and mentally unstable stalking behavior. Surely one of you is in to trashy dyed blondes with loud mouths and questionable ethics. I’ll pay for your wedding cake.”

“Cut! Cut! Kill that fucking microphone,” Cookie screamed from her supine position, after realizing what was happening.

Rainey paid no attention. She concluded her airtime with, “CKCB, see a crime, call the police. Cookie is busy being a martyr at the moment.”

The cameraman, who was laughing, turned the camera on Cookie’s wallowing attempts to gain her feet, as Rainey dropped the microphone on the ground near the crazed woman and walked away.

10:15 AM, Friday, March 6, 2015

Durham County Sherriff’s Department

Outside Observation Room 212

Durham County, NC

Rainey stood in the hallway outside the interview room with her phone held to her ear.

“How’s Mack doing?”

“He’s a little clingier than usual, but that’s understandable. He has enriched the other two’s vocabulary, which I’m trying to deal with gracefully. Hearing ‘Get the fuck out,’ randomly shouted from three-year-olds is disconcerting,” Katie answered.

“It sounds like he’s processing in a healthy manner,” Rainey said. “Sharing the experience is good.”

“Ernie has threatened soap usage, but I’ve quelled the desire thus far. Mackie is playing with them outside. He’s like a giant jungle gym.”

“Exercise will help ease Mack’s stress. We may have trouble with him sleeping alone for a bit. There will probably be a few nights with five of us in the same bed.”

“I will not mind that at all. We could all use a secure sleeping environment.”

“All of us in one bed sounds like a good plan,” Rainey said, just as Aaron Engel entered the hallway, escorted by two uniformed officers. “I have to go. I’ll call you when I know something. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Be safe.”

“Always.”

Rainey slipped the phone back in her pocket while she watched Aaron Engel approach. He saw her and immediately went on the offensive.

“Oh, this is fucking fantastic. You are here to interview me? Am I supposed to be intimidated by a has-been profiler?”

“No, I’m not here to interview you. I came to watch my sister’s fellow officers question you. They don’t like criminals who threaten one of their own, especially when they think you’re responsible for my sister’s abduction.”

“I didn’t touch your dyke sister.”

“No, you have us confused. I’m the one with the wife and kids. But let’s get back to why we’re here today. You stalked my sister, followed her to my house where security caught you on the surveillance cameras. What happened, Aaron? You had a career, a family, a lovely home, and you couldn’t control your temper. I’m just curious. Do you know why women make you lose your mind?” Rainey let her eyes drop to his crotch. “Does it have anything to do with your dysfunction?”

Aaron Engel flew into a rage in milliseconds. He lunged at Rainey. She sidestepped his attack and watched the two officers take him to the floor and cuff his wrists behind his back. He blew spit and air through clenched teeth, in a state of rage. He roared and fought the cuffs. One of the officers pinned him to the floor with a knee on his neck. The other was on his radio, calling for an extraction team from the detention center next door.

“Whoa, Aaron, that was exciting. They should put a video of that on YouTube and title it ‘Fucked up and lost my mind in a police station.’ Nice takedown gentlemen. No excessive force and the prisoner is under control.” Rainey knelt by the fuming man’s head and spoke softly, “Aaron, I don’t believe you took my sister, but I do believe you are dangerous and should not be on the street. You need help, brother. The Bureau saw something in you once. I hope you find it again.”

Aaron’s answer was to spit at her, which went nowhere because his mouth was so dry from the fight. The spittle hung on his lip, flipping in and out of his mouth with each panting breath. He had just enough energy left to growl out, “Fuck the Bureau and fuck you.”

Sheila opened the door to the interview room and stepped into the hall, asking, “What happened?”

Rainey looked up and smiled. “Aaron has anger issues. He would never have been able to control his rage. The person that was in that house wasn’t trying to kill Wendy. He was attempting to gain control over her. Mr. Engel would have killed her if he ever got his hands on her. Right, Aaron?”

“I’ll kill you bitch. I’ll kill your whole family. You are dead!”

Rainey stood up. “See what I mean.”

“I’ll kill all you fuckers,” Aaron threatened while the officers added more restraints.

Sheila crossed her arms. “You pissed him off on purpose.”

Rainey grinned. “I had only heard about Mr. Engel’s temper. Now I’ve seen it myself. He didn’t take Wendy, but he should be sedated and put in a psych ward for observation. He’s a danger to himself and others.”

She looked back down at Aaron, who was now hog-tied and played out from his rant.

“I’ll be at your bond hearing, Mr. Engel. You have spent your last day on the outside for a good long time.” Rainey knelt again and looked him in the eye. “Be well, Aaron. Don't come back for more. The best thing you can do is forget you ever heard my name.”

Four extraction team members charged into the hallway, suited up in special gear used to handle aggressive prisoners. They checked his restraints and judged them sufficient. The officers recommended a spit mask, which really pissed off the prisoner. Once secured, each member of the extraction team grabbed a bound limb and lifted Aaron Engel from the floor. They carried him out like a side of beef while he continued his muffled rant.

“I’m going to find you, Rainey Bell. You’re dead. You’re dead. You’re de...”

His voice trailed off as the elevator doors around the corner closed on his freedom.

Dr. Edward Teague came into view, backing into the hallway, his attention focused on the elevators. His professorial look remained intact, black turtleneck, tweed jacket, khakis, and suede saddle oxford shoes. He saw Rainey and Sheila and moved toward them.

“Wow,” he said, “That guy is in the throes of a violent mental break. Is everyone okay?”

“Yes,” Sheila said, “but that was one of the suspects we were going to interview.”

Teague responded, “He’s too out of control to pull off an abduction. He would have killed Wendy King on the spot.” He focused on Rainey. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I know you must be tremendously worried.”

“Thank you, Edward. We’re all worried.”

“Well, from what I know of Wendy, whoever took her has their hands full. Do you have any other suspects?”

Sheila answered his question. “We have a suspect in custody in the fetish case. We’ll have to wait for DNA unless we can get a confession. Let’s step in here.”

Teague turned to Rainey. “Do you think this is the UNSUB?”

Rainey hedged her bet. “I’m open to the idea.”

Sheila opened the door next to the interview room labeled Observation. “They’re bringing him up now,” she said.

“May I ask,” Teague inquired, as he followed Rainey and Sheila into the room, “how old is the suspect?”

Rainey answered, “He’s twenty-seven. You may have been right about the age.”

Teague let a smile creep onto his lips, before covering his self-satisfaction with, “Well, we know age is the most difficult component of a profile.”

“Yes, it is,” Rainey agreed.

The observation room contained three large windows of mirrored glass that looked into three interview rooms labeled A, B, and C. Rainey recognized the four detectives from the task force waiting inside. They were laughing and bumping victorious fists, assuming they had found the Triangle Terror. It was a career-making case, but Rainey still had doubts. The detectives all shook Teague’s hand, congratulating him on his “perfect profile.” They had only reserved nods for Rainey. She didn’t care enough to point out the rest of the profile remained on point. Her only concern was finding Wendy.

All the backslapping stopped when a shackled Shaun George and his lawyer were escorted into Interview Room A. Rainey watched him shuffle to a chair at the table, a broken young man, scared and anxious.

This is no apex predator, Rainey thought.

In addition to his apparent distress, which was out of character for the type of UNSUB they were seeking, he had requested a lawyer immediately. Most of these guys welcomed a chance to talk to law enforcement, believing themselves the smartest person in the room. They may lawyer-up once they were sure the evidence was there to convict them or they became bored with the interviewer, but a malignant narcissist would play the game until it no longer pleased them to do so. It was their last shot at control, and controlling others was a narcissistic personality’s drug of choice. If they decided to confess, it was after there was obviously no way out. Then the game became when and how much information would be forthcoming. They were gamers, the lot of them.