Antonio had stopped at the door, not wanting to intrude on the crime scene. Jaxx pulled on gloves and gave Lucian one long look of anguish before turning to the task at hand. Lucian’s watchful eyes never left her small figure. He saw it all through her eyes. Felt her emotions. These were her friends. These people mattered in her young life. He caught glimpses of memories she tried hard to suppress. Mrs. Kramer laughing when Jaxon slipped in the doorway, grabbed at the back of a chair, and landed on her bottom anyway. Jaxon, who was always so graceful. Mrs. Kramer had teased her about it often, holding it over her like friendly blackmail.
He wanted to wrap her up in the protection of his arms and take her for all time away from this place of death and misery. He wanted to erase every painful memory from her heart and mind. Jaxon said nothing at all. When others murmured things to her, she barely seemed to register that they had done so. She concentrated totally on the crime scene, careful not to miss the smallest detail. She went from room to room, a mask of professional detachment on her face, pale yet composed. Jaxon, the consummate cop and protector of people. His Jaxon.
He could read the thoughts of those around him, pick up the various conversations in every room, the halls, and even outside. Jaxon had the same ability now. She knew which of her colleagues feared to speak with her, which ones worried for their own families, which ones thought her a robot without emotion. It went on and on, the bombardment of sympathy and blame, blood, and death, from apartment to apartment.
The memories. Shelby Snyder baking her a birthday cake and bringing it over. Tom fixing her sink and banging his head, water spraying over his face as Shelby and Jaxon laughed at him. He took it good-naturedly, as he always did. Night after night with Sid, talking poetry because she couldn’t sleep and neither could he. She had been so careful, never appearing in public with any of them, even sneaking into Sid’s apartment at prearranged times. She had told Sid Anderson about her background.
He was the kind of man who inspired confidence. Sid’s death was a terrible blow to her.
Lucian watched it all, felt her strength, her resolve, the weight of responsibility so heavy on her shoulders. His admiration for her grew. Her brain analyzed every piece of data. She didn’t shirk from the grisly results of Drake’s madness; these victims had been her friends, which made her all the more determined to catch him. She was physically ill, her stomach in knots, her head pounding, and he heard her screaming in her mind, yet her face was calm, and she never once turned away from examining the gory scenes.
Daryl Smith followed her over to Lucian as she moved out of the last apartment, removing another set of gloves. “So, what do you think, Jaxx?”
“He hit Mrs. Kramer first. He was waiting for her when she came in from shopping. The groceries are still sitting on her table. She always put her groceries away immediately. He entered through her bedroom window. It was locked, but Drake had no problem with it. He used his knife on her. It’s his favorite weapon, up close and personal. I counted eighteen deep stab wounds and several shallower wounds. He took her eyes before he left. His standard trademark.” She frowned. “It was him… but not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” the captain asked.
Lucian was in her mind, and he felt her puzzlement. “I can’t tell you exactly, but he’s different. Still, it was definitely Drake. I think he went to Carla and Robert’s apartment next and found they weren’t home. Angry, he slashed up their bed in a killing rage. From Carla’s apartment he went to Tom and Shelby’s. He caught them in the shower together. He stabbed Tom fifty-eight times and Shelby at least eighty. There’s a lump on Shelby’s head. He probably hit her and knocked her out as he was killing Tom. His rage increased as he murdered them. I