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  "Mary, I want to thank you for letting my family stay here while we hunt down this killer." Mary Peters, who was an ex-police officer, was a heavyset woman in her mid-fifties. She'd been shot in the line of duty five years’ prior which forced her into an early retirement. "My home is your home, Iris, you know that."

  Iris patted to an empty space on the couch. "Come, sit next to me, Mary... Listen, everybody, this girl, this Stacey McHill, is very crafty. She could imitate anyone, as you all know. So, what I propose is that we come up with a password. A word or phrase that we could easily remember."

  Toni, who was removing some of her things from out of her bags, said, "Let's use the same phrase that we gave to Mrs. Green."

  "Auntie, is she the one who burned down my apartment?"

  Iris looked at her niece. "Yes. But don't worry, Pam. we'll catch her...trust me." Iris stared at everyone. Stacey could be anyone, at any time.

  Eight hours later, Iris awakened from a horrific nightmare. She'd dreamt that Stacey McHill had poured hot, crazy glue all over Pamerla and the baby. The white tee-shirt that she wore to bed was soaked with perspiration, and her heart was beating double time. She laid her head back onto the pillow. Her thoughts bounced between Casper's near-death experience at the hands of Stacey McHill to the teenager’s jaw-dropping impersonation of Detective Anaya Hayes. She looked over at Toni, who'd entered the third stage of REM sleep. Iris got up and walked around the basement; the nightmare had spooked her. She checked on her niece and the baby. The thought of Stacey McHill harming her family made her shiver. "I'm gonna get you, you crazy bitch," she said as she stared at Pamerla and the baby.

  Chapter 52

  THE MORNING OF MARCH thirtieth brought with it a brisk north easterly wind and a temperature of thirty-seven degrees. The rays of the sun were too weak to penetrate the thick clouds. Rain had been forecasted for the rest of the week. The naked tree branches yielded to the wind as Iris pulled her Durango into the parking area of the Double 0.

  Iris stood at the entrance to the parking area of the Double 0. Her hands were pushed deep into the pockets of her North Face jacket. She watched as Toni dashed back across the street carrying two cups of coffee that she'd gotten from a mobile food cart that was there to serve the construction workers working on rebuilding the Double 0. She then glanced at the trailer-like command units that were parked end-to-end inside the parking area. She shook her head.

  Every Precinct in upper Manhattan had a small FBI team assigned to their homicide division, part of a joint task force to bring the bomber of the Double 0 precinct to justice; mobile command unit #3 was the headquarters, ground zero.

  Once inside command unit #3, Iris headed toward a desk that she'd claimed earlier in the week. Toni's desk was facing her partner's. Iris switched on her laptop, took a sip from her cup, then trotted toward the restroom. "Goddammit, there's no toilet paper in here!" Toni smiled to herself. "I'm coming..." Toni fished inside the brown paper bag and pulled out a couple of napkins. "I'm coming."

  Special Agent Greg Morrison who worked at 26 Federal Plaza was assigned to the bomber case along with two other agents. Stacey McHill's escape was an embarrassment for the Bureau, and Special Agent Cannon was feeling the heat.

  Agent Morrison was forty-six years old and a little overweight. He was also an excellent profiler. The agent also had a serious crush on Detective Annette Toni, ever since he'd met her at the FBI training facility in Quantico. He was eager to work with the detectives that brought down the twins. He had another talent; he loved to eat. At five-feet-six he weighed two hundred and twenty-two pounds. His comrades called him fat roly-poly behind his back. He was carrying a bag of jelly donuts when he entered the mobile command unit. He extended his hand toward Special Agent Cannon.

  "For God’s sake, man, wipe that damn jelly off your chin," Agent Cannon said curtly. And without shaking the agent's hand, Cannon turned his back on Morrison and walked back to his desk.

  "Hi, Greg," Toni said as she shook his hand. A flushing sound came from the restroom. Iris emerged, mumbling obscenities.

  "And this must be the famous Detective Iris Williams." Agent Morrison pumped Iris’s hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've been following your career for quite some time now.”

  "There's no damn toilet paper."

  Agent Morrison looked puzzled. "Do you want me to go and get some?" he asked. Toni placed her hand on his back and walked him toward an empty desk. "Never mind her, Greg." Toni touched the side of her cheek indicating to Morrison that he had something on his face: powder from the jelly donut.

  Iris walked over to her desk and began studying the surveillance videos of Stacey McHill and her sister's many disguises. Something that Agent Cannon had said a few days ago had stuck with Iris: Most serial killers have some kind of quirk... Iris scratched her scalp with a pencil as she stared at her computer screen.

  "Would you like a donut, Detective Williams?" Morrison asked. Iris looked over her shoulder. The FBI agent was smiling.

  "They're good, Iris," Toni said. "Try the glazed."

  Iris stared at the bag that Morrison held out to her.

  "She's not usually this rude, Greg."

  “I'm never rude." Iris took a glazed donut. "Thanks, Greg."

  "What are you checking for?" Morrison asked as he stared at Iris’ laptop.

  "I'm checking for quirks. Anything peculiar about our little killer."

  "Something funny in her body movements?" Morrison asked Iris.

  "Yeah."

  After reviewing the videos of Stacey McHill, Agent Morrison said, "I know you guys caught that, right?"

  "I believe I did," Toni said.

  Iris looked up at Toni, then she looked at Morrison. "What? I must've missed it."

  "Go back to the image of Stacey at the hardware store," Morrison said.

  Iris complied.

  "Run it at normal speed and watch her carefully." A few seconds later Morrison said, "Notice how she's rubbing her wrist and the right side of her cheek? Now go to the part where she is leaving IHOP." The detectives watched as Stacey McHill exited the famous eatery. "Did you see that?" Morrison shouted. "Play it back in slow motion. Iris did. Stacey McHill rubbed her wrist, then she touched the right side of her cheek as she exited the restaurant. "That's her quirk," Morrison said. "Something must've happened to her wrist, and maybe her face when she was younger."

  "Duct tape," Toni said before Iris could get the words out of her mouth.

  "She and her sister were raped and sodomized. The perps had smeared crazy glue onto the adhesive part of the tape before they applied it to their wrists and across their mouths."

  "Wow," Morrison said. "That's a new one. So, when the tape was removed so were parts of their skin."

  "She could be doing this unconsciously," Iris said.

  "I would agree with that assumption, Detective Williams—"

  "Please, call me Iris."

  Chapter 53

  "O.K... I DON'T THINK she's conscious of these body movements. You know how most women brush their hair out of their faces? A lot of them do this unconsciously. They've done it for so long that it becomes second nature to them. I believe the same thing applies to our UNSUB."

  Iris stared at the frozen image of Stacey McHill exiting IHOP. "That's her real face, Toni; she went into the men's room to remove her disguise, but she didn't have time to re-do her face, she just covered up her old face wound." Toni moved in closer so that she could get a better look.

  "And what's that she's wearing on her right wrist?" Iris asked.

  "It's a gold and diamond tennis bracelet. It must have some sentimental value." Morrison said. Special Agent Cannon walked up behind Toni.

  Iris looked up at the man. "We found her quirk—"

  "She rubs her wrist and cheek," Cannon said, cutting Iris off.

  Iris looked at Cannon "You knew about this all along?" Iris asked.

  "Of course I did," Cannon answered with a smile. "I just wanted to see
how long it would take you two to figure it out."

  “You son of a bitch!" Iris murmured.

  "Take it easy, lady, you guys did good." Iris was steaming; Cannon knew it. "Look, I'm going down to Federal Plaza, I should be back in an hour or so. Call me if there's any further developments... ladies.” He glowered at Morrison before he walked out of the command unit.

  A TAP ON THE DRIVER's side window jarred Agent Cannon from out of his sleep. A teenage boy stood by the window. He asked the FBI agent if he was o.k. Cannon reached for his weapon; then he waved the teenager away. "I should’ve robbed your ass," the teen said as he gave Cannon the finger. Cannon was parked on East 116th Street, in front of a little Bar & Grill called Mojitos. For a moment, the FBI agent had forgotten where he was. He rubbed his eyes, then he did a quick body check on himself: his wallet and badge were still in his back pocket, but his keys were missing. There was a note taped to the steering wheel. The bartender of the establishment Agent Cannon visited left it there for him. It stated that after Cannon's tenth Black Russian, the FBI agent had passed out at the bar. It also said that his keys were in the glove compartment. Cannon retrieved his keys from the glove compartment, then he checked the time. It was 11:21 am. He'd left the command unit twenty hours earlier.

  IRIS AND TONI ENTERED the mobile unit the next morning to find it empty. Iris made two cups of green tea and the women sat at their desks and ate their breakfast. "Where do you think she is? Stacey, I mean," Toni asked. Iris, who'd just opened her laptop, touched a few keys and the image of Stacey McHill popped on the screen. "I don't know..." Iris said before she took a sip from her cup. "I don't get it, Stacey had all the opportunity in the world to take us out while she was impersonating Anaya, but she didn't. Why?"

  "Because she's playing a dangerous psychological mind game with us. For some twisted reason, she's trying to tear us down mentally—"

  "And she's doin' one hell of a job at that, I can tell you."

  "Yeah, but she's getting reckless. She's getting too confident in her ability to change her appearance, and that just might be her downfall; her cockiness."

  Cannon entered the mobile unit. Iris and Toni both stared at the agent as if he were a deformed apparition. The man's clothes looked as if he'd slept in them, he was unshaven, and his hair was frightful. Iris jumped out of her chair. She unsnapped her holster and freed her Glock. "Don't freakin' move, dude." Toni stared at Iris, then she looked at the disheveled FBI agent; Toni placed her hand on weapon also.

  "What the fuck are you doin'? Are you freakin' crazy?" Cannon shouted. He held a bag in his hand which contained: a razor, toothpaste and a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and Visine. He mumbled something under his breath.

  "How the hell do we know that you’re Cannon?" Iris said; her gun pointed at the agent’s chest.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course it's me.”

  "Prove it. Now!" Iris shouted.

  Cannon glowered at the detective as he hit recall in his mind. "The day I walked through that door, you and I almost got it on. That beast you call Casper and... our UNSUB had just left the unit, remember? Now lower your Goddamn weapon."

  Iris stared at the FBI agent as she lowered her weapon. Cannon turned and marched toward the restroom. He mumbled a few obscenities as he slammed the door.

  "We have to come up with a password for our team," Iris said. "This is getting crazy." Two minutes later Cannon yelled from the restroom, "There's no fuckin' toilet paper in here!"

  Chapter 54

  IRIS AND TONI SPENT the next half an hour coming up with different words and phrases to use as passwords to give to the men and women that occupied the other mobile units. Agent Morrison walked into the unit carrying a bag filled with toilet paper.

  "I think your comrade is going to need some of that," Iris said. She pointed toward the restroom. Morrison knocked on the door. Cannon cracked it open, and Morrison handed him a roll. "You ladies want me to pick something up from the mobile across the street?" Morrison asked, with his hand on door knob. “I'm hungry as hell."

  Iris and Toni both declined.

  "Suppose Stacey McHill somehow got the chance to impersonate me, do you think you'd know the difference?" Toni asked, staring into Iris’ eyes.

  "Don't freakin' talk like that, Toni, because that'll mean you were dead.

  "I'm just saying, if she did, would you know the difference?" Iris looked over her shoulder, then she looked at the restroom door; they were alone in the command unit. She moved closer to her partner and placed her hand on Toni's cheeks. She leaned in and kissed Toni, deeply. After six seconds, Iris slowly pulled away." Yeah, I would definitely know the differences."

  The toilet flushed, and the detectives regained their composure. Cannon walked out looking much better than he did when he went in. Iris and Toni watched him as he made his way toward his desk. "Where the hell did you go after you left here yesterday?" Iris asked.

  Cannon glared at her. "That's none of your business, Detective."

  "Well, excuse me—" The phone rang.

  Iris picked it up. "Double 0 command unit three...yes, Jackson." Iris jumped out of her chair like something had just crawled up her leg. "...Where ...? Are you sure? Jackson, slow the hell down, I can't make out what you're saying." Iris snapped her fingers at Toni; she needed a pen. Toni removed a pen and a notepad from her fanny pack. "...O.k. repeat that, I wanna make sure I got it ... 350 West 36th Street, second floor, got it. Thanks, Jackson." Iris hung up the phone and snatched her jacket off the back of the chair she. "Stacey may have struck again."

  Chapter 55

  AGENT MORRISON WALKED back into the command unit carrying a bag from Dunkin Donuts. "What's up? What's happened?" Iris ran past Morrison, so did Toni. Morrison stared at the detectives. "What the hell happened?"

  "Mind the store, kid, grown folks got business to take care of," Cannon said as he too pushed past the agent.

  At 350 W36th Street, Officer Jackson stood at the building's entrance with another female officer. She'd called Iris and told her that they'd found a body of a woman that might be relevant to the Stacey McHill case.

  Iris noticed the medical examiner's van parked behind a black Jeep Wrangler. She double parked her Durango in front of a white Kia. A short, dark-skinned man exited the building. He passed Officer Jackson and her partner. He shouted at Iris as she and Toni jumped out of the Durango. "Hey...I'm about to leave. Can you please move your vehicle?" The detectives shot past the man as they raced up the stairs. Fuckin' cops.

  Agent Cannon, who had followed Iris to the crime scene, exited his vehicle and ran into the building. He called out Iris’ name and told her to wait. Agent Cannon wanted to do things by the book. He walked past Iris and Toni and led the way toward the crime scene. A lieutenant from Midtown South dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, then he pressed the handkerchief to his lips as Cannon approached. Cannon flashed his FBI ID at the lieutenant. "I'm here in conjunction with the Double 0 precinct. This here is Detectives Williams and Toni from said precinct. We have reason to believe that this case might be relevant to—" The lieutenant, whose complexion looked patsy, pushed past the FBI agent and the two detectives and stumbled toward the staircase. He threw up before he got there.

  When Agent Cannon reached the crime scene he shouted, "Great Caesar's Ghost." Agent Cannon's outburst was absent of any mental construct; it came out of shock, plain and simple. Agent Cannon pressed his fist against his lips, then he made the sign of the cross. In all his years as an FBI agent, Cannon thought he'd seen it all...he was wrong. Ten feet from the door—and stuck to a wall that separated the living room from the kitchen—was the body of a woman. The head had been detached from the neck by ten inches. The bloody torso was devoid of limbs. The humerus bones—on both sides of the torso—were disconnected from the shoulder and elbow joints. The flesh was jagged as if someone had taken a hacksaw to her limbs. The woman's wrists were divided from her forearm and her fingers were separated from her hands. All
of her body parts lay inched away from their original position. The lower half of the dead woman's body fared no better than the top: The femur bones were detached from the woman's hip sockets, and her knees were disconnected from her tibias; her feet cut away from the ankles. The body looked like a human jigsaw puzzle.

  The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. Iris peered into the apartment. "Holy shit!" Toni, who was standing behind her, stared at the mutilated corpse with a morbid fascination. The forensic team was hard at work. The crime scene was a bloody mess.

  A short around man walked over to where Iris, Toni, and Agent Cannon were standing.

  "I'm Michaels, the ME."

  “I'm Detective Williams and this is my partner Toni, is it all right to come in?" Iris asked. Iris noticed the largest blood stain she’d ever seen near the window.

  "Yes, just don't touch anything and watch your step. CSI are on their way." The medical examiner noticed Iris staring at the blood stain by the window. “That’s where he cut her up.”

  The forensic pathologist spoke to Cannon, but Special Agent Cannon didn't acknowledge. His eyes were glued to the woman's body that was stuck to the wall. "How long was she like this?" Cannon managed to say.

  "I'd say between twenty-four and forty-eight hours, “the ME said as he stared at the body. "Our perp injected succinylcholine into our victim.” He held up clear, Ziploc bag which contained a syringe and a small jar.

  "What the hell is that?” Iris asked.

  "It's a drug that anesthetists use to relax the muscles in a patient just before surgery," Toni said.

  "That's correct, but our victim suffered from a Pseudo Cholinesterase Deficiency..."The medical examiner held up another clear Ziploc bag, which contained the victim's medical identification. “... when our killer administered the succinylcholine, it paralyzed her. She watched as our killer began sawing off her body parts...." Iris and Toni walked closer to the body.