All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [41]
“You’re right, you are fantastic. So are you, Linc. Come on in and shut the door.” They looked at her skeptically but did as she asked. They got seated in the not-so-comfortable chairs across from her desk. Lincoln pushed the door closed with his foot. With the three of them in the room and the door latched, it felt more like being in a cell. Though the office afforded more privacy, the room was tiny. Taylor filled them in.
“We’re going to be working on a new case. You’re both familiar with the Rainman?”
Lincoln’s eyes grew wide. “The rapist? Did he kill someone?”
“No, he didn’t. But he raped Betsy Garrison last night.”
She waited for that news to sink in. Lincoln opened his mouth, then closed it with a brief shake of his head. Marcus spoke first.
“I assume you want this kept quiet?”
“Got it in one, puppy. We need to keep Betsy’s name out of it at all costs. She doesn’t want the people in her unit to know she’s been raped. She got beat up pretty badly, too, and Brian Post’s been informing people she had a car accident. Bless her heart, she’s okay about the rape. I was at the hospital talking to her and she really was holding up well. Better than I would be.”
“Did she have any information that we can go on?” Marcus had already switched into investigator mode.
“Fitz and I processed the scene, and we got a whole lotta nothing. There was a print on the back door that I lifted, and we need to see if that matches up with the prints on file from his past rapes. There’s good and bad news, too. They have DNA, from all the rapes. They haven’t released it to the public, or any of us for that matter, because TBI can’t get the more recent rapes into CODIS. We’ve got DNA from Betsy, and the spermicide that was found in her PERK matches the condom brand he’s been using. We’ve got the rope, but it’s the same generic kind he’s been using all along.
“Here’s what I want. Both of you look at this like it’s never happened before. New rapist on the street. Brand-new case. We have no usable evidence, no leads. Just find out who he is for me. Start here.” She handed them both a copy of the summary sheet.
While identifying information was scarce, the Rainman had an incredibly unique pattern that was baffling the police. He only raped in months that ended in the letter Y—January, February, May and July. He only struck when it was raining, sometimes even in violent thunderstorms. Every attack came on the third Thursday of the month. And he’d only done two rapes a year. He’d struck twice in 2000, 2002 and 2004.
“This is the name and address of his last victim. She thinks she may have an idea of who he is.”
“You’re kidding?” they both chimed.
“No, I’m not. Betsy spoke with her after the latest rape, said she was really reluctant to relive the crime and give decent information. Problem is, she couldn’t identify him. Doesn’t know his name, can’t remember where she knew him from. It’s more like something about him seemed familiar to her. So go talk to her and see if you can jog her memory.”
Marcus was reading the summary sheet. “There are a couple of major discrepancies here. He didn’t hit on a Thursday, for one. We’ll have to wait on the DNA—Taylor, are you sure we don’t have a copycat?”
“I’m not sure of anything. Betsy seems positive that this was the Rainman. But you’re right to question that. Get the print run. That should tell you pretty quick if it’s him or not. Criminals break their patterns. Trust the evidence, it won’t lead you astray.”
“Okay, LT. We’ll let you know.” Marcus stood and stretched.
“Yeah, no problem, boss. We’re on it.” Lincoln gave her another crooked smile and they left her office, talking to each other quietly about the next steps they’d take.
Okay, she thought, one down. The nice thing about management, she got to give more orders. She smiled to herself. She would be right there with them, she just had one thing she needed to do