She had a point. And unless I was missing something, all of this information seemed moot.
“You’re right, ‘cept for the Roofies,” he returned.
“So he drugged her with Rohypnol,” I remarked. “Did he use it on Brianna Walker too?”
“No, but that’s not the point.” Ben continued talking while he finished folding the dishcloth. Then he topped off Felicity’s coffee and poured himself a fresh cup. “Roofies aren’t available in the U.S. by any quote quote legal means.” He made two-fingered quotation marks in the air with his free hand as he repeated the word twice-yet another Ben Storm original mannerism. “So the only place you’re gonna get ‘em is on the streets. Also, they aren’t good for anything except makin’ ya’ damn near a zombie. That’s the reason they call it the ‘date rape drug.’”
Lights went on behind Felicity’s eyes as the realization reached her a full step ahead of me. “College campuses.”
Ben looked at her and touched the tip of his index finger to the end of his nose. “Unfortunately, that’s exactly where they tend ta’ show up. We’ve got Narcotics on it right now.”
“But we still have no idea what this guy looks like or even how old he might be,” I volunteered. “What good is it going to do to shake down a handful of drug dealers?”
“You got a better idea?” He shrugged and shook his head. “At least this is a place ta’ start. It might narrow the field down some. Besides, didn’t you say ya’ thought ya’ might be able ta’ recognize his voice if you heard it again?”
“Well, you’re right,” I admitted. “I might be able to recognize the voice… at any rate, it can’t hurt.”
“What about working up a profile or something? Can’t Constance help you with that?” Felicity offered, referring to our mutual friend with the FBI.
It had been hate at first sight between Special Agent Constance Mandalay and Detective Benjamin Storm when we all first met last summer. She was a strong-willed woman in a male-dominated profession, and he was the lead detective with the Major Case Squad. To her rigid set of views, I was nothing more than a carnival charlatan, and she made her opinion well known. More than a few sparks were brought forth from that point of contention.
Less than forty-eight hours later, she was violently subjected first hand to the horrific realities of true evil and misused Magicks. I just happened to be the one who saved her life. We had all been friends ever since.
“Already called the field office,” Ben answered. “She’s on some kinda security assignment at the moment, so I ended up talkin’ ta’ some SAIC named Bartlett.” He shook his head in disgust. “This guy’s a real winner. Reminded me of why I can’t stand Feebs.”
“Do you think he’s going to be able to help?” she pressed.
“He said he’d see what he could do, but I’m not holdin’ my breath.”
“Did he at least say when Constance would be back?” I asked.
“Accordin’ ta’ him she’s s’posed to be back in the office Monday. That’s only two more days countin’ today. So, if our luck holds out, and this prick doesn’t off anyone for a little while longer…”
“That’s a pretty big ‘if,’ Ben.” I shook my head. “The weather has settled down, and something tells me we haven’t got that long.”
“Yeah, well, I hope like hell you’re wrong this time.”
We all sat in the gathering silence for a moment, sipping our coffee and pondering the weight of what we faced. Ben reached up to begin working on a muscle in the back of his neck, and Felicity chewed at her lower lip. Working against the clock was definitely not new to any of us.
Dickens, our solid black cat, eventually sauntered into the mute room, tail at attention, and leapt lithely onto the table. Taking a seat and closing his large eyes, he let out a regal you-may-pet-me-now mew.
“What about the particulars on Kendra Miller,” I finally asked. “Obviously the dental records matched up. Were you able to find out anything more about her?”
Ben broke out of his stupor and rummaged around in his pocket. After a moment he withdrew his ever- present notebook and began flipping through the pages. “Yeah, yeah… The records matched up perfect. Yeah, here it is. Kendra Darlene Miller was ‘er name all right. Twenty-four, single. Worked as a secretary over at the gas company.”
“Not a hooker then?” I interjected.
“Not a hooker, no,” he echoed, “but accordin’ to ‘er co-workers, she was a definite party-girl.”
“No law against that,” Felicity said in an almost defensive tone.
“Maybe not,” he said, “but they said she played it fast and loose on the singles scene. Also, rumor has it she buttered both sides of the bread if ya’ know what I mean.” He paused momentarily as he scanned his notes. “She was real open ‘bout her religion too… Yeah, here it is, she was a member of a Dianic Coven. That mean somethin’ to you two?”
“Basically it is just a tradition within The Craft,” I answered.
“The Dianic tradition places the focus purely on the feminine aspect,” Felicity expanded on my response. “The Coven will almost always consist only of women and will engage in Goddess worship with little or no mention of the God or male influence.”
“Humph.” He rolled his eyes as he grunted out the sound. “Guess that’d explain the whole Bi thing.”
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Felicity chastised. “Being in a Dianic Coven doesn’t automatically make you a lesbian or bisexual. But even so, what if she was? What difference does it make?”
“Hey, whoa!” He held his hands up in mock defense. “I’m just doin’ my job here. I don’t care what anyone does as long as they aren’t hurtin’ anybody, and I don’t hafta look at it…
“Unfortunately though, her bein’ Bi does set off a few alarms. Couple it with what ‘er co-workers had ta’ say, and you got someone at high risk for all kinds of shit.”
“So, to you, her lifestyle puts her in the same category as Brianna Walker,” I proposed.
“Hate ta’ say it, but yeah. Damn near, anyway.” He took a sip from his coffee cup and then set it back on the counter where he was leaning. “I should also mention that she was takin’ a couple of classes over at the U of M. Narcotics is payin’ special attention to that campus.”
“So are you coming back to the theory that this guy is only after hookers?” I asked.
“Not completely, but I do think his choice of victims so far does say somethin’.” He paused and let his gaze rest on me then added, “Don’t you?”
“Maybe.” I shook my head. “But I still think he’s after Witches not prostitutes.”
“Listen, white man…” He let out a frustrated sigh before continuing, “No one has thrown out your theory ‘bout the whole revival of the Inquisition thing, least of all me. But I’ve got a job ta’ do, and we hafta look at all the angles. Whether he’s after hookers, Witches, or…” He flung his arm out in a sweeping gesture as he searched for the elusive words. “Awww hell, whoever! I just want the bastard in a cell waitin’ for his last meal, that’s all.”
“I know you do, Ben,” I murmured half-heartedly, “I know you do.”
“Look, Row, we’ve got the Narcs workin’ the dealers, and personally I think that’s a hot lead. We’ve been over the Miller woman’s apartment with a microscope… Twice…” He held up two fingers to punctuate. “The place had been tossed, but all we found were some smudges. The guy was obviously wearin’ gloves. Shit, it’s the middle of winter! Everybody’s wearin’ gloves!”
He reached up to smooth his hair and then shook his head. He was already starting to show signs of stress over this case himself, and my unsupportive-sounding reply hadn’t helped.
“We’ve been canvassin’ the area around Meadowbrook Park, and so far nobody’s seen a thing. If we can figure out where she was last, we’ll be all over that place too. Other than that I don’t know what ta’ say…”
“I’m sorry, Ben,” I quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was doubting you.”
“S’okay, Kemosabe. I think we’re all a little wired. Kinda standin’ around waitin’ for the other shoe ta’ drop.” He folded his arms across his large chest and pursed his lips for a moment as he stared out through our atrium window then turned his attention back to us. “So, Deckert and I are s’posed to go talk to some members of ‘er group this afternoon.” He bobbed his head in our direction. “You two wanna come with?”
“What time?”
“Around four.”
Felicity shook her head and looked over at me, “I should really stay here and take care of a few things, but you could go as long as you’re back in time. We’re supposed to be at the party by six-thirty.”
“That’s right, I almost forgot,” I replied.
“Party?” Ben raised an eyebrow.
