Field of Graves

“Step away from that for now. The victims at the church. What in the hell was that about? He kills a priest and another woman, using fire. The priest is easy to explain away, he could have just gotten in the way. But why take her to a church to kill her? We’ve got the church, the river, and the Parthenon. Church, river, Parthenon. God, this just doesn’t make any sense.

“What’s the most logical place to find this guy? All the girls are students at Vandy. Assuming the fire victim is as well, we’re up to four students, and a possible priest of opportunity. Gotta be someone connected to Vandy. And what is he trying to tell us? River, Parthenon, church. Catholic Church. Poison, stabbing, fire. Trial by fire? Cleansing by fire? Damn it, this is crazy.”

Baldwin slapped the notebook down on Price’s desk. An idea sparked, one so off the wall he almost immediately discarded it. No, there was something he was missing, something he wasn’t getting. The locations could be the key; granted, the murders were incredibly diverse, but if the guy was trying to send a message, he certainly had picked the right places to garner as much attention as possible. And there was something about Jordan’s pregnancy that was nagging at him. He stood up and stretched. He knew from experience that brainstorming, word association, throwing a jumble of thoughts together often forced an answer later on. Ideas were starting to form, but he needed to talk them out, run through them aloud with another person. Preferably Taylor. He sensed she was moving along the same lines as he was. He liked seeing how her mind worked.

Price walked back in while Baldwin was still mulling things over. He came around to his side of the desk and sat down heavily. As he did, the phone rang. He stared at it a moment, as if he really didn’t want to pick it up.

“I could get that for you, if you’d like. Let them know you’re not here?”

Price gave him a smile.

“A magnanimous gesture, but that’s okay, I’ll get it. I’m just sick of putting out fires.” He picked up the receiver. “Price.”

Baldwin watched him listen to the person on the other line, wondering at the emotions that passed across his face. Good news or bad? Baldwin couldn’t tell.

Price sighed and spoke again. “Yes, Julia, I can reach her. One hour? Okay. Bye.”

Holding up his finger in a signal to wait, he hit the speakerphone and dialed Taylor’s cell phone. She answered immediately.

“I was trying to call you.”

“Good. Julia Page just called. The grand jury wants you in an hour.”

Taylor let out a huge groan. “No, no, no, not right now. Please tell me you’re kidding. Can’t you get me out of it?”

Price chuckled. “You know I can’t. Just get it over with. We’ll mark you off the rest of the day. Give us a call when you’re back on the grid.”

The annoyance in her voice was barely concealed. “Damn it. Fine. I’ll let you know when I get out. But I have other news for you. The remains from the church? It isn’t Jill Gates.”

Price and Baldwin shared a look. The relief was palpable, yet tempered with concern. Price jumped back in first. “I take it you don’t have an ID for us?”

“No, I don’t. But we may have a much bigger problem. I got an anonymous phone call a little while ago. Jill Gates is pregnant. Assuming she’s still alive, very pregnant. According to Sam, she’s far enough along that if she had the baby now, it might survive without her.”

Price sat straight up slowly, staring at Baldwin while Taylor continued.

“But I have to go testify in front of the grand jury instead of handling that little detail. I’ll leave that up to you guys. My suggestion would be to get Baldwin working the pregnancy angle. He might have an idea of what this guy is up to. He didn’t answer his phone when I called a few minutes ago.”

“I’m right here, Taylor. Sorry, I must have turned off the ringer accidentally.”

“Okay then. You guys have a fun afternoon. I’m outta here.” She hung up before they could wish her luck.

Price hung up and stared at Baldwin, who didn’t look terribly surprised by the news Taylor had just sprung on them. “Who was in that confessional?”

Baldwin sighed at the rhetorical question. “I don’t know. This is such a departure from the earlier killings it is possible that it’s not related.”

“You don’t think that’s the case, though, do you?” Price asked.

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” He frowned, shaking his head. “No, I don’t. This is all connected somehow, but I haven’t figured it out yet. It’s not common, but killers do shift their patterns, especially when they’re trying to communicate. I think there’s a message in this church burning, and the victims were doubtless chosen for a specific purpose. I’m not sure what it is, though. And now, with Jill Gates having a late-stage pregnancy combined with Jordan Blake’s pregnancy... Have there been any more missing person reports?”

“Lincoln is our guy there. He’s outside, still working, though Taylor sent him home to sleep.” He went to the door, called Lincoln in.

“What’s up, Cap?”

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