Page 27 of The Murder Between Us
“Ever take a psychology class?”
A spark of interest ignited in her eyes. Cole’s breath hitched. For a moment, she looked like a younger, more feminine version of Noah. As if Noah had been put in a dryer and shrunk. The same angle of the head, the same fire in their gazes when they saw something that intrigued them.
“They offer it as an elective at school. I signed up for digital design, though.” She studied Cole. “Psychology, that’s, like, what you do?”
“I’m a forensic criminal psychologist. I figure out what people did—and, more importantly, why—at crime scenes. Why did someone behave this way or choose to do this instead of that.”
“That’s cool. That’s more interesting than listening to someone complain for an hour.”
Cole smiled. “That’s therapy. Counseling and clinical psychology. I’ve never counseled anyone. I don’t see patients.”
“But you’re a doctor.”
“Research doctor. You know what a PhD is?”
Katie nodded. “A lot of college. Like, a lot.”
He laughed. “You got that right. I got my doctorate in forensic psychology after I published my research on criminal behavior, specifically studying psychopathy.”
“Like, crazy serial killers and insane murderers?”
“Some murderers have mental illnesses, yes. Not all of them. I study the crime scenes serial killers leave behind and build profiles based on what that tells me. I can usually tell who is mentally ill and who isn’t pretty quickly.”
“Like how? What can you see?”
“So, for example, there was a serial killer we were tracking a few years ago. He would murder his victims… really badly.” Cole self-edited, reminding himself that Katie was a teenager. And Noah’s daughter. “And when we found them, they all had a sock shoved up their behinds.”
“Okay,” Noah said. “I think this is getting—”
“Dad,” Katie protested. “This is cool. Let him finish!”
Cole waited. Noah sighed. He guided the SUV down the off-ramp and signaled to turn right at the stop sign.
He took Noah’s silence as tacit, reluctant permission to continue. He watched Noah out of the corner of his gaze as he spoke. “People at the BAU were divided. Was the sock a symbol? Things are so often symbolic with serial killers. Everything represents something. Forensic psychologists are always looking to assign symbolism to anything.Anything.” He grinned. Katie did, too.She looks so much like her father.His chest tightened. “So,” Cole said, forcing himself to continue, “did the sock have another meaning? Or was the killer just weird?”
Katie thought hard, scrunching up her eyes as they passed the McDonald’s from the night before. Cole had tossed the food as soon as he’d gotten to his room.
“Could the sock have been some kind of protection? Like a condom? If the killer was using whatever was available—”
“Katie!”
“I’m sixteen, Dad! I know what a condom is!”
“Jesus Christ…” Noah’s jaw shifted, his teeth grinding. He glared at the hotel, which was coming up fast.
“Lots of people thought it could have been exactly that. Protection for… entry. Or a way to shame the victim. But, as it turned out, the sock was purely practical. A sock put up the butt is an old military skill they used to teach to soldiers: how to take care of a dead body in the field. When someone dies, they often… let go… of their bowels. Everything comes out. Which can get messy.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best topic to discuss with a sixteen-year-old. But Katie was hanging on his every word, as interested as Noah was furious, it seemed.
Oh well. Nothing to do but finish. “And messy is a problem if you’re a serial killer who has to move bodies. But hey, put a sock in it and voilà. No mess. No evidence left behind in the trunk of the killer’s car. So we knew then we were looking for a veteran, someone who had seen combat and who had helped to prepare fallen comrades to be taken out of the field. That narrowed the search a lot. And it told us he was a careful planner, and that the sock was purposeful.”
Noah pulled to a stop, braking with more force than was necessary, outside Cole’s hotel.
“That’s so cool,” Katie said, breathless and awed. “Did you catch him?”
“We did.” Cole grinned. “Pretty quickly after we figured that all out.”
“That’s so cool,” she repeated, beaming.
Cole caught Noah’s deeply unimpressed look as he slid out of the SUV. Oops. Well, nothing to do about it now.
