Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,7
his own initial investigation. Then, get in there.”
She inhaled a long breath. “I’ll recognize him because he’ll be by the body?” she asked.
“Yes, well...that and you can’t miss him. Keenan is almost six-five.” Jackson paused. “He’s got sandy hair and makes an impression. You’ve actually met him before. He was the other agent with me and Adam when you called about your friends being in danger in the Miller Cemetery. Anyway, he stands out in a crowd. Yes, he’ll be by the body. If not, trust me, you won’t miss him.”
“Okay, thank you, sir.” Biting her lip, she rose and walked to her window. She was back in Georgetown. She loved the neighborhood, the old buildings on the street, the cherry trees here and there...
And it was strange.
It was where she’d first experienced her bizarre nightmares. There were other places to live. She’d made the choice, however, to take an apartment in Georgetown when she’d graduated and come to the Krewe.
She wondered if Georgetown wasn’t somehow special to her.
She realized she was nervous. Her first case. Shower, dress, get to work. It was time.
Before now, she’d never been able to tell others what she saw. Now she was going to turn nightmares to good use.
Yes, it was time to prove herself.
* * *
“She was...oh, my God, she was just lying there,” the young woman told Keenan. “I’m a nurse—on my way to the day shift—and I know...I know the smell of blood!”
Keenan nodded sympathetically. He adjusted the blanket around the woman’s shoulders. The morning was warm, but she sat shivering in the rear of an ambulance.
The woman who’d found the body, one Jennifer Maples, was in her early twenties, dressed in scrubs, eyes damp with fear, huge green pools in a face the shade of ash. He understood.
“They’ll take you to work or home, whichever you wish,” he said. “It was just six when you passed by the statue, right? And saw the victim there?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir, I know it was just about ten after. I work three twelve-hour shifts a week, and I am a creature of habit. My shift starts at seven, but I like to get in a bit early for coffee and charts. I walk this way to the metro... Did you see her? Oh, my God!”
She covered her mouth again, as if trying to prevent herself from spewing the bile that was rising within.
“It’s all right.”
“I’m a nurse. I’m not squeamish. But that—”
“It’s all right,” Keenan repeated softly.
Yes, he’d seen her—the victim.
“Did you see or hear anyone near you—cars moving out, anyone running, anyone behaving suspiciously in any way?”
She shook her head. “The square was quiet. I think I saw a few people pass on the other side of the statue, but you can’t see her unless...you’re on this side of it. No one was running or behaving oddly,” she said wryly. “There were cars out on the road, but I didn’t see any of them speeding by, no running lights or anything like that... There was nothing unusual,” she said earnestly. “There was just her—that poor woman!”
He nodded, silent for a minute.
She looked at him. “I’ve heard about this killer, this man they’re calling the Yankee Ripper. He’s killed twice already, right? The media has been subtle and not so subtle about warning sex workers he’s on the prowl. I don’t care what she did for a living. She might have been down and out. She might have been the nicest person in the world—or not. No one—oh, God, no one should have happen to them what happened to her!”
“Of course not. Every life is sacred,” Keenan said.
“And you’ll find whoever did this, right? You won’t just figure someone is killing sex workers and who cares?”
“As yet, we don’t know who she was, or what she did for a living. But that won’t matter,” Keenan promised. “I assure you, we will seek this man with all our resources.”
She looked baffled for a minute. “Who are you? You’re not in uniform. The other man I talked to first—”
“Detective Fred Crandall. He’s DC police,” Keenan told her.
“And you’re—”
“FBI,” he said. He offered her a grim smile. “We’re all on this, Miss Maples. We will find this person, and we will stop these killings.”
Her eyes widened suddenly. “I’m not in any danger, am I?”
“I don’t believe you’re in danger, but you should always take care. You know that, of course. Lock your doors, watch your surroundings. Be wary. But I think you already are, and will