Forbidden (Southern Comfort) by O'Neill, Clark (free ebook reader txt) 📗

least twice.  But he got no satisfaction from the killings. He probably views them as unfortunate accidents, and may even feel some remorse. But whatever remorse he feels is tempered by his justification that the girls somehow brought it on themselves.  He can’t admit to his own culpability, because that would mean that he wasn’t in control.  The control issues he’s dealing with are long-standing, and probably derive from a power struggle in childhood.”

“The classic garden variety psycho excuse: don’t blame me, blame my mother?”  Deputy Jones’ dark features twisted, his disgust more than apparent.

“In this case, I wouldn’t be so sure it was his mother,” Clay clarified, “because he doesn’t appear to exhibit hatred toward women.”

Jones looked incredulous.  “He beat the shit out of those girls, for God’s sake.”

“What Agent Copeland means,” Kim interjected, “is that his behavior indicates no deep-seated need to punish women.  Both times he killed, it was because the situation was beyond his control.  We also have reason to believe that he treats his victims in what could be called a courteous manner.  I know.” She held up a hand, warding off the protests before they could get started.  “That sounds crazy.  But what I mean is that the power reassurance rapist often treats his victims as if they were dating, as if they really like what he’s doing. He’s convinced himself the rape is consensual.  It gives him control over the outcome of the ‘relationship’ he’s constructed in his mind.”

She looked at Clay, who picked up the conversational baton.

“When we see this type of rape, it suggests that the perpetrator lacks control in his everyday life.  He can’t sustain a normal male/female relationship, most likely due to an image crisis suffered as the result of an overbearing parent, and some factor that leads to social awkwardness or unacceptability.”

“But this guy was, you know, attractive,” Jones pointed out, grimacing slightly when everyone looked at him.  He glanced with some discomfort toward Kim. “Ms. Hennessey’s words, not mine.”

“Despite the fact that the man isn’t obviously outwardly unattractive – we have both Agent Copeland’s observations and the composite Ms. Hennessey helped with to back that up – something sets him apart from others.  Something that he hides, that brings him shame and insecurity, and that he makes up for by exerting control over these young women.  That’s why we also believe that his business partner is dominant.  It partially explains his continuing need for reassurance.”

“So how does that help us?”  Deputy Harding wanted to know.  Clay flicked his eyes toward where the man was leaning against a file cabinet, and met his blue-eyed gaze.  “I mean it’s great that we understand that, but how does that help us catch him?”

“It helps, because if we can figure out what sets him apart, we’ll have a better idea of how to find him.”  Clay flipped through his mental files for a pertinent example.  “We once hypothesized that a serial killer we were profiling suffered from a speech impediment, and when that got out it made him that much easier to identify.  We just keep narrowing the focus on these guys, getting more specific, and then eventually when you ask around you can say: ‘hey, have you seen anybody around who’s kind of a loner, not well-groomed, drives a van and has a speech impediment? Well then, that’s when the neighbors start to say ‘hey, that sounds like John down the street.’ ”

Of course it wasn’t that easy.  It was never that easy.

“Understood.”  Deputy Harding nodded at Clay.  He looked like he slept, standing upright, in a vacuum.  Nobody should wake up that perfect.  “Do you have any theories on what it is that makes him different?”

Clay gave Harding points because he was unafraid to ask the right questions.  And unlike other officers he’d worked with, wasn’t skeptical about the answers.  “Well, aside from his obvious physical attributes, I noticed something the other day that bothered me.  It was hotter than hell at that carnival, but our boy wore a long sleeved shirt and jeans.  Now, usually when people go to all that trouble to build their bodies, they’re inclined to show them off.  But this guy kept himself covered, which led me to notice him and wonder why.  After looking at this video, I think I’m starting to have an idea.”

They all turned to the TV screen, where a slightly grainy image of the masked man was frozen.  Harding looked for identifying features which might have given the man away, thereby leading him to wish to conceal them. “No tattoos or easily identifiable markings.”

“That’s what I wondered about at first,” Clay admitted.  “But then I got to thinking about his behavior that day, and both times I observed him he was avoiding the sun.”

“Not surprising,” Sheriff Callahan said.  “Since it was so hot.”

“Yes,” Clay agreed.  “But it went beyond that.  I’m thinking he stayed out of the sun so he wouldn’t burn.”  He thought of the man on the beach the day he’d met Tate, the fair skinned man under the umbrella.  The one who’d sparked their debate about sun protection.  He reached over and pointed at the screen.  “What do you notice about him here?  Look at him in comparison to the girl.”

“You mean aside from the fact that he’s built like a tank?” Jones commented, then tilted his head as he studied the screen. “He’s pretty pasty, even for a white dude. But maybe this was filmed during the winter.”

“No,” Kim countered, shifting in her chair to address the deputy.  “The girl in this clip went missing last August.  Her body wasn’t found until this past spring, but by then she’d been dead for almost nine months.”

Clay nodded, because that simply backed up his speculation.  “Janie Collier went missing during the middle of the day – that service station attendant placed her in the back of his car mid-afternoon – and when I observed him at the carnival it was early evening.  But he had been