I worked into the night as Gunny rested, the painkillers keeping him down. He would move once in a while, his leg moving over mine or his nose smelling me next to him. He was on his side again, and I was sitting up against pillows with his head on my lap and my computer on the table above me.
Craig and Luis had been thrown together as the people in charge of the investigation, quickly forging a friendship as they worked. He stayed at a hotel in Albuquerque overnight, since the team worked well into the evening. Luis had them working several angles, all of which were long shots.
The first was traffic cameras. We were going through images from every camera within a ten-block radius of both the shooting and where the getaway car had been found. Each plate was run, each image added to the database. Craig had them give priority to out-of-state plates, as we thought it likely the killer was not a New Mexico native. There were thousands of cars to screen, and for each car we had to search the databases for owners and drivers. We were going to take the database we had developed and run it against cell phone records, toll roads, employment records, school attendance, credit card receipts and any other information we could find until we could exclude that person from consideration.
The ones we couldn't exclude would get more screening.
The relational database Natalie was developing was going to be key. We had received the information from the Department of Defense, Federal law enforcement and other agencies. We looked at other sources as well; competitive shooting clubs, private shooting academies, Olympic shooters, and even those outside the USA. Alerts were set up so if someone showed up in one place, it would find it in another. We were still very early in the screening process; data was still being entered and validated. It was not a scientific process; we could make the query specific, and find a few suspects, or make it general and find thousands.
The third was the clues they had left behind. We didn't believe the Scrabble pieces were left there without reason, the shooter was trying to tell us something, teasing us with the puzzle. We had a team of National Security Agency people, computer geeks and cryptologists looking at the possible combinations that the letters could represent. We also had a psychologist from the FBI Profiling division arrive to join the team, and he was particularly interested in the letter and the Scrabble pieces. His initial thoughts were forwarded to me in an email:
The combination of methods used in the killings thus far speak to an intelligent, motivated killer. The attacks show a significant level of planning, as well as an understanding of what she is up against. These are apparently randomly selected targets, yet the act itself is planned in detail; evidence is destroyed or minimized, escape routes are easily available, and in the latest attack a vehicle switch was part of the escape. The subject is not done killing, and is taunting us to find her.
She is not afraid of being caught or killed, she is afraid of not completing her planned revenge.
The selection of random targets speaks to a broad-based hatred towards the Werewolves. The use of language like "race-traitor" indicates hostility towards humans who cooperate or join with them. The genus of such hatred is unknown, and is not recent. This revenge has been long planned.
Her suffering was personal. Either she was directly harmed, or her husband or close family was killed or injured and she blames the Packs. The harm is likely ongoing in her mind.
In addition to the criteria already set for the particular skills this person has, I would add the following to the search:
-Those killed or seriously injured in the Were War or its aftermath, extending to wives/widows and close family.
-Women with unresolved claims for losses suffered during the war.
-Women who have been divorced for reason of their husband finding a Werewolf mate.
-Women who showed opposition to the peace treaty and the end of the war with the wolves.
It is also likely that there are more than one subject involved. The investigation has already explored this due to the quick getaways after shootings, but the methods of a serial killer rarely diverge this much. In two cases, the killings were at close quarters, while the others were all at significant range. A shooter who was doing this for the thrill of the kill would not enjoy long range, while one who prefers to be isolated from their victim would not kill with a knife. If it is one person, then the method of the kill is secondary to achieving the kill itself and making the escape."
I closed up the laptop and went to take a shower, finishing my business late into the evening. When I came back out, Wendy was checking his vitals and giving him his pain medication. "Don't you sleep?"
She laughed quietly. "Doc will take the next one, but one of us needs to be around while we have a patient in this condition. Don't worry, I have other stuff to do than monitor his vitals."
I got back into bed after she finished and she tucked me in. "Tomorrow will be worse," she said. "He will feel better and will want to get up and do more. You can't let him."
"He is stubborn," I said.
"Am not," he whispered to me. I didn't argue with him yet, I just snuggled in and let my body keep his warm as we both fell asleep.
The next day was as predicted. Gunny started to feel better, hell, he was feeling frisky, but Doc's orders were orders. Being naked in bed with him might have been good for his cat, but it was hell for me. His scent called for me, his hand was continually wandering across my body and setting it on fire. He was pulling out every trick in the book to get me to give in and make love to him.
Thankfully, Renee expected this and invited me to lunch. Gunny needed X-rays, a change of dressings, and a lung capacity check while I was gone. Doc was also going to have him shift to his panther form and back a few times to stimulate healing.
Lunch was nice, we had it out on the deck near the koi pond that was her favorite. We had time, so she showed me around the Pack House and surrounding grounds. Finally, it was time to go back. "Doc says they are done," she said, "and he can start to move around. No exerting himself, anything farther than the bathroom is a no. He can sit in the chair as long as he is helped up, and he can use a wheelchair if you want to take him anywhere."
"So, when you say no exerting himself..."
She laughed. "New mates. No sex, Rose. Not even if you do all the work."
I got back to the room and found him dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. He was sitting in the big recliner, watching the news channel. He patted his legs with his good hand, I saw he had new and smaller bandages on his wounds and his arm was now in a normal sling. "Doc says I'm doing great," he said. "Now come here and help me out with this painful swelling."
I snorted. "Doc also relayed to Alpha Renee what your restrictions were, Gunny. You're on medical hold." I pulled my phone out and set it on the nearby table before climbing in and snuggling next to him. "Rest up, it's only been a day," I said.
"A day feels like forever since we made love," he whined.
We settled in, and were almost asleep when my phone started ringing. I looked at the screen, it was Josh. "Josh? Is everything all right?" All kinds of things went through my head, it was just after one and Charlotte was still in school.
"Charlotte is fine, Mom." God, I was SO not used to him calling me that, but in this world a mate was forever so he was going to be my son-in-law. "A question though... did you need me to protect Charlotte from others, or others from Charlotte?"
