Kill for Me

Chapter Fourteen

Dutton, Saturday, February 3, 3:45 p.m.

Charles glared at the telephone when it rang for the tenth time in an hour. Damn reporters. Every one of them wanted a new angle on the shootings of Kate Davis and Gretchen French. As if he’d toss them even a crumb. Not.

This call he’d answer, he thought when he saw the caller ID. “Paul, where are you?”

“In Raleigh. Bobby’s out of control. Just thought you should know.”

There was a sharp edge to Paul’s voice. “What’s in Raleigh?” Charles asked.

“The father of the girl that escaped from the bunker. Rocky kidnapped the girl’s sister and made it look like the sister had run here, to her daddy.”

“So Bobby’s cleaning up Rocky’s mistakes. That shows responsibility.”

“It shows loss of control,” Paul snapped. “Dr. Cassidy didn’t have to die.”

“I’ll go down to Ridgefield House and have a little talk with Bobby.”

“Good, because I’m sick and tired of fetching for your star pupil. Bobby thinks I work for money. I came this close to saying I only work for you. That you set this whole thing up. That I only pretend to be Bobby’s errand boy because you told me to. I’m tired of this, Charles. I mean it.”

Paul had always gotten snide when he was tired, ever since he’d been a boy. “You’re not my pupil, Paul. You’re my right hand, so relax. Get a hotel and take a nap. Call me when you’re back in Atlanta.”

“Fine, just yank Bobby back into line, will you?”

“I certainly will.” He paused meaningfully. “Thank you, Paul.”

Paul sighed. “You’re welcome, sir. I’m sorry I was rude.”

“Apology accepted. Get some rest.” Charles hung up, doubly annoyed. First Bobby missed Susannah Vartanian, and from only twenty feet away. And now, wasting resources like Paul. I taught you better than that. It was time for a refresher course.

Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 4:00 p.m.

One of Monica’s eyelids was open. It was a strange sensation, being able to see the ceiling through only one eye. Her nurse came in and Monica wanted to scream.

The nurse had another syringe in her hand. Her eyes were no longer red and swollen, but she was tense. The nurse brushed her eyelid closed. “I’m not going to kill you,” she murmured close to her ear. “But I can’t take a chance on you saying anything to the police until my son is out of danger. This should be the last one.”

Monica felt the warmth of the nurse’s body as she bent low again, whispering in her ear. “When this one wears off, I’ll be gone. Do not trust anyone. Believe me. There is someone else in this hospital that works for the people who hurt you. Yesterday they tried to kill one of the others that escaped from the bunker. The man.”

Beardsley. He’d helped them escape from the bunker. Bailey had told her so, when they’d been in the woods. Monica had heard the nurses talking during the day. He’d been rushed into ICU during the night, but was lucky. They’d saved him and he was sent back to a regular room. With a guard.

“As soon as you’re out of ICU, you’ll be vulnerable,” the nurse continued. “I’ve tried to keep you alive as long as I could. But my son is in danger. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you anymore. I think you can trust Susannah and Nurse Ella. Now I have to go.”

Raleigh, North Carolina, Saturday, February 3, 4:15 p.m.

Special Agent Harry Grimes looked around the Raleigh office of the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation fondly. He’d been transferred to the Charlotte office the year before and missed the staff, especially his boss, who’d taught Harry so much.

His old boss was at a new desk, having been recently promoted to special agent in charge. Harry knocked and an instant grin lit Steven Thatcher’s face.

“Harry Grimes. How the hell are you? Come in, come in.”

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Harry said as Steven came around the desk, hand outstretched in welcome.

“No, no.” Steven grimaced. “Just paperwork.”

“Comes with the new desk, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’m home more and Jenna likes that, especially with another baby on the way.” Steven pointed to a chair. “How’s Charlotte?”

Harry sat down. “Great. Not here, but still great.”

Steven studied his face. “You’re not here on a social call, are you?”

“I wish. I got a call this morning from a frantic mother. Her fourteen-year-old daughter went missing from her bed in the night.”

Steven grew serious. “Like, abducted, or left?”

“No sign of forced entry. The locals started out calling her a runaway.”

“But they’re not now?”

“No. And the confrontation wasn’t initially smooth, but they’re on board now.”

“So bring me up to speed and tell me how I can help.”

“This girl’s older sister went missing six months ago. She’s listed in the NCMEC database as an ‘endangered runaway.’ ” He handed Steven a photo from his briefcase.

“Beatrice Monica Cassidy,” Steven read.

“She goes by Monica. She had what her mother considered a normal relationship. They fought about clothes and curfews and school. Then one day six months ago Monica tells Mom she’s going to visit a friend and doesn’t come home. The friend eventually confessed Monica had asked her to lie, that she was meeting a boy. By then the trail was cold. Monica was gone. Her mother insists she wouldn’t have run away.”

“Parents normally do,” Steven said quietly.

“I know. Apparently Monica had been spending a lot of time on the computer.”

“Let me guess. Chat rooms and IM?”

“Of course. Mom couldn’t bring back any of Monica’s conversations, which is where I came in. The principal of Monica’s school asked me to do a presentation for the PTO on software that can track chat room and instant message conversations. If parents install it right, the kids never know it’s there. I had a rep from the local computer store there as I always do, so that parents can buy the software that night.”

“Smart, Harry. So many times parents plan to, and life gets in the way.”

“Exactly. Mrs. Cassidy was there that night and bought a package because she has a younger daughter, Eugenie Marie. Goes by Genie.”

“And as of this morning, Genie is missing.”

“Mrs. Cassidy called all her friends, then the police. They came, took a report. Then the mom got online and read Genie’s conversations. She’s been communicating with someone named Jason through her IM account. He claims to be a college boy.”

“You think a pedophile took her?”

“Yeah, I do. Monica’s friends said she’d met a college boy online-named Jason.”

Steven blinked. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Did Genie’s chat log show if she planned to meet this Jason, and where?”

“No, there were no communications yesterday or today, but there are going to be gaps in the log when kids use their cell phones to text. The software only tracks the chats and IMs on the computer itself. I felt so sorry for this woman, Steven, so I went to the bus station and asked around. They said a kid wearing a hoodie from Genie’s high school bought a bus ticket to Raleigh in the middle of the night, so here I am.”

“So how did you get this case, Harry?” Steven asked cautiously.

Harry’s smile was wry. “I’m not being a cowboy, Steven. I’m officially assigned to this case. Mrs. Cassidy lives in a rural area, about thirty miles from Charlotte. The local force is small and asked us to take it after Mrs. Cassidy showed them the Jason parallel. My boss put me on the case since I’d done some of the groundwork.”

“So why Raleigh?”

“Her dad lives here. Dad didn’t answer my phone calls, so I made the trip. Dad isn’t home, and his car is gone.”

“Maybe he’s just not home, Harry.”

“He’s a doctor. Didn’t show up for his shift today and the hospital staff say that’s never happened before. He’s reliable to the point of being obsessive.”

“You get a warrant for his house?”

“Being signed as we speak. You wanna come with?”

Steven nodded grimly. “Let me get my coat.”

Ridgefield House, Saturday, February 3, 4:55 p.m.

“Where’s Tanner?” Charles asked as Bobby took his coat.

On his way back from Savannah, Bobby thought, but Charles had no need to know that. “Assisting me.” Bobby sat behind the desk without additional explanation. “Well?”

Charles followed, settling himself in a chair. “You could have been caught.”

Bobby smiled. “I know. That’s what made it fun.”

“Where did you get that godawful dress?”

“My grandmother’s. You said I was acting like an old woman, so I dressed like one.”

“But you missed,” he said, and Bobby lifted a brow.

“Au contraire. I never miss. I was taught to shoot by a U.S. Army sniper, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Charles said irritably. “I was there for every excruciating lesson.”

“So you of all people know my skill. I hit what I aimed at.”

Charles looked perplexed. “You intended to hit Gretchen French?”

“That’s who that was?” Bobby laughed softly. “That makes it even better.”

“You didn’t know?” he asked, incredulous.

“Nope. I planned to hit whoever was standing closest to Susannah Vartanian the moment Rocky pulled the trigger. I’d kind of hoped to get Agent Papadopoulos, but Gretchen French is even better, under the circumstances.”

“So what happened to the shot Rocky fired?”

“A blank. I didn’t want her to hit anything. The girl was a lousy shot anyway. But I wanted her to believe she had. I wanted her to think she was killing Susannah Vartanian. And she pulled the trigger. She died knowing she’d obeyed me.”

“She died thinking she’d missed.”

“Better still. She obeyed me, yet still she failed. She deserved no less.”

“Very good,” he said, sounding reluctantly pleased. “So what will you do next? I mean about Susannah Vartanian.”

“I’ll deal with her a little at a time. When I’m finished with her, she’ll be more alone than I ever was. She’ll be afraid to stand next to a tree stump, afraid it’ll be blown to bits. When I finally decide to kill her, she’ll beg me to do it quickly.”

“So when will you strike again?”

Bobby thought about the call from the GBI mole that had come through minutes before Charles arrived. The mole’s report had been infuriating, but Bobby had decided to make lemonade from the lemon. And Charles could provide the sweetener.

“In about an hour. I’d like to borrow your car. The black one with the Darcy plates.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I plan to teach a recalcitrant employee a lesson. The nurse called GBI on me.”

“So you’re still cleaning up Rocky’s messes?”

Bobby frowned at his disapproving tone. “What do you mean?”

“You have a lot of loose ends to snip. But there are other ways to do so. So much murder at once is a neon light. I taught you better than that.”

“I know. Power in invisibility. But this is a twofer. I send a message that it’s unwise to disobey me and I strike at Susannah Vartanian again. You’ll see. Trust me.”

Charles considered it. “In that case, yes, you may borrow my car.”

Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 4:55 p.m.

“Luke, wake up. Wake up.”

Luke’s head jerked up. He’d fallen asleep at his desk. “God,” he muttered.

Leigh stood next to him, a worried look on her face. “It’s almost five. The team’s starting to gather in the conference room.” She handed him a cup of coffee. “High test.”

He gulped half of it down. “Thanks, Leigh. Anything happen while I was asleep?”

“Nope. The calls from last night are starting to taper off. Nothing relevant, not yet.”

“You get any hits on that boat registration number Daniel remembered?”

“Couple hundred. But I narrowed it down based on the boat only having room to carry five girls.” She handed him a piece of paper. “I just finished it. Here’s the list.”

“Good work, Leigh. I really appreciate all the time you’ve put in this weekend. Hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Luke scrubbed his face, his beard scraping his palms. “I have to shave. Maybe that’ll help me feel human. Tell Chase I’ll be there in five.”

Five minutes later he slumped into a chair between Chase and Ed and looked around the table. Pete and Nancy were there, as were Chloe and Nate. Talia Scott was back from the Ellijay cabin, and she and psychologist Mary McCrady looked fresher than the rest of them. “We ready to start, Chase?” he asked.

“Yep. Germanio is still hunting for Helen Granville, so we’re just waiting for you.”

Luke straightened in his chair. “We have an ID on Kasey Knight, one of the homicides, and we may have an ID on one of the missing girls, Ashley Csorka. Her dad’s on his way from Florida with DNA samples.”

“I’ll put a rush on the urine samples we took from the mattresses in the bunker,” Ed said. “I’ll start PCR on the samples he brings. We’ll have an ID by tomorrow this time.”

“Good,” Chase said. “What else?”

“Daniel saw part of the registration number on the boat as it pulled away,” Luke said. “Leigh’s narrowed possible owners down to a couple dozen.”

Chase took the list. “We’ll check it out. Anything else?”

“Just what Nate and I found.” He gestured to Nate.

“We found catalogs with girls for sale-the company is Fine Young American Flesh and its logo is the swastika,” Nate said. “I was able to match photos of three of the five homicides. Kasey Knight wasn’t in any of the catalogs.”

“How many did you end up finding?” Luke asked.

“Just the three I’d found when you came by. Why?”

“Because Kasey was missing for two years. At three quarterlies, the catalogs only go back a year or so.”

“So?” Chase asked.

“So Kasey wasn’t part of the Fine Young Flesh business,” Nate said. “But she was still in the bunker.”

“Just another piece of the puzzle,” Luke said, and Chase sighed.

“This puzzle is like one of those round ones that’s all yellow,” he grumbled. “Can we trace any of the pictures on Mansfield’s hard drives?”

“We’ve got a third of ICAC working on it,” Nate said, “but twenty-five hundred gig is a lot of photos.”

“The ones I’m most interested in are the ones Mansfield took on the sly,” Luke said. “They’re not staged, so they’re more likely to yield something useful.”

Nate nodded. “But they’re grainy, so it’s slow going. If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll get back to it.”

“Ed?” Chase asked, when Nate had closed the door behind him.

“Oh, lots of good stuff,” Ed said, “to mystify and confuse.” He put two plastic bags on the table, each containing a gun. “This one,” he said, tapping a revolver, “was found in Kate’s hand. The other one was found in the grass.” He got up and drew a triangle on the whiteboard. “Kate was standing here, at the top of the triangle. This,” he pointed to the point that jutted out to the left side, “was where we found the second gun. It’s a semiauto with a silencer. This point at the bottom is where Ms. French was standing.”

“What comes next is my favorite part,” Chase said sarcastically.

“We found the slug that went through Gretchen’s arm over here.” Ed pointed to an area outside the triangle, to the far right. “You guys keepin’ up?”

Luke frowned. “How is that possible? Unless it ricocheted, there’s no way it could have come from Kate’s gun.”

“Because the bullet that hit Gretchen French didn’t come from Kate’s gun. It came from here.” Ed pointed to where they had found the semiautomatic.

“So the semi shot Gretchen?” Nancy asked.

“No,” Ed said. “There were three guns-Kate’s, the semiauto, and a third gun that we didn’t recover. The third gun shot Gretchen and the semiauto shot Kate, but Kate Davis didn’t shoot anybody.”

Pete shook his head. “I have a headache now.”

“Join the club,” Chase said. “Ballistics says the shot Kate fired was likely a blank.”

Chloe blinked. “Why?”

“So who shot Gretchen?” Talia Scott asked.

“Nobody knows yet,” Ed said. “We’re going through the video of that area, but there were people running around everywhere after the first shot was fired.”

“So if Kate didn’t shoot Gretchen,” Luke said, “what did she mean by ‘I missed’?”

“We did get a good angle on Kate with our surveillance video,” Ed said. “When we realized she’d shot a blank, we went back and looked at the video again. She wasn’t aiming for Gretchen or Susannah. She was aiming over here.” He pointed to the area where the semiautomatic had been found. “She was aiming for whoever shot her.”

“And if that’s not interesting enough, there’s one more thing.” Chase slid a photo across the table. “Kate’s autopsy photo.”

Everyone drew a breath.

“She has the swastika brand,” Chase said. “Hell.”

“I think we need to get some more information on Kate Davis,” Luke said. “It’s time for another visit to Mayor Garth. Will you come with me, Chloe?”

“Of course. Do we have any information on his wife?”

“The BOLO on her Chrysler minivan isn’t showing up anything,” Pete said, “but she’s on the move. I’ve got her cell phone records right here. She’s called Kate Davis’s cell phone a couple times a day since she left on Thursday. She’s headed west. Today she was in Reno. The last call to Kate’s phone was at two p.m. today. Lasted five minutes.”

Luke frowned. “Two p.m.? Kate was already dead by two p.m. today.”

“I know,” Pete said. “Did they find a cell phone on Kate’s body?”

“No,” Chase said. “But somebody answered the call, or the voicemail would have picked up. Let’s get that phone account transferred to one of ours. Chloe, can you make that happen?”

“Yeah, but it’ll take some time. I think I know a judge that’ll help me speed it up.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “Pete, does Garth’s wife have family out west?”

“No. She has an aunt who lived in Dutton, but whose neighbors say moved away after she married Garth. Nobody has a forwarding address on the aunt. I’m still searching.”

“Did you talk to Angie Delacroix?” Luke asked. “The hairdresser? Susannah says she knows everything that goes on in the town.”

“No, but I will.” Pete ran a hand over his bald head, trying for levity. “I need a trim.”

Everyone smiled, but sadly.

“I checked Mrs. Davis’s credit cards,” Pete went on. “I found activity in all the places she’s called from. I called the local police in the towns where she stopped. They’re sending me security tapes from the places the credit cards were used. At least we can try to find out if she’s driving a different vehicle. Whoever has Kate’s phone might have told her Kate’s dead. I’m betting that will make her go even deeper under.”

“Maybe the hairdresser will know who else she’s calling,” Chase said. “Nancy?”

“I’ve searched all day for Chili Pepper, the arsonist,” Nancy said. “His parents say they haven’t seen him in years because he’s a no- account SOB of a son. The neighbors back up the parents. I found his girlfriend’s house and she denies knowledge of his arson activities. She says he’s nicknamed Chili because he’s hot in bed.” She grimaced. “Which is really gross, trust me.”

“Lovely individual,” Chloe said. “Anything he can’t do without, any addictions?”

“Yeah. I found syringes in his girlfriend’s house. I asked to use the bathroom and snuck a peek in her medicine cabinet. I know,” Nancy said when Chloe looked indignant. “I saw a bottle of insulin with Clive Pepper’s name on it.”

“Girlfriend’s name?” Chloe asked, shaking her head.

“Lulu Jenkins,” Nancy said. “I didn’t touch anything.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, annoyed, “but if we find him, it’s fruit of an unlawful search.”

“Who’s gonna tell him?” Nancy asked, exasperated. “You?”

Chloe turned to Chase, glowering. “Your people are going to get me sanctioned.”

“Calm down. Nancy, don’t do that again. Chloe, Nancy’s not gonna do that again.”

“So he’s a diabetic,” Luke said. “He has to come up for insulin soon.”

“Excellent,” Chase said. “Ed, did you get that scan of the bunker property?”

Becky, Luke thought. The name Beardsley heard as someone was being buried.

“No. They were supposed to come at three and I was busy with the cemetery crime scene then,” Ed said. “Sorry, Chase. It’s dark now, so we’ll start at daybreak tomorrow.”

“I got us some help,” Chase announced. “Four new agents.”

“When do they start?” Luke asked.

“A few have already started. One of them located Isaac Gamble, the nurse whose tracking badge was closest to Beardsley last night when his IV was tampered with. Gamble said he went to a bar, and the bartender and the security video alibi him.”

“So somebody else tried to kill Beardsley,” Pete said.

“Looks like. I’ve got two of the new agents viewing the video we took at the cemetery, trying to find who fired.”

Psychologist Mary McCrady leaned forward. “And why he dropped his gun?”

“He made a mistake,” Ed said, “or he didn’t want to be caught with it.”

Mary shrugged. “You could be right. But if you think about the coordination involved to have pulled this off… If Kate Davis fired a blank, the shooter had to wait for the exact moment of the shot to shoot Gretchen French. And he’d have to know in advance that Kate planned to shoot. That doesn’t seem like someone who’d drop a gun by mistake. I think he wanted you to find it.”

“Mind games,” Luke said. “He’s playing with us.”

“I think so,” Mary said. “Did Kate Davis know her gun had blanks?”

“Not blanks,” Ed said. “Just one blank. The rest of the chambers had live shells.”

“Round puzzle, all yellow,” Chase said. “You’re right, Mary. If Kate intended to hurt Gretchen before she could go public about the rapes, then she wouldn’t have had any blanks. If she’d planned just to scare her, she would have had all blanks. And if she was aiming for someone else, we’re missing a yellow puzzle piece.”

“Whoever she was aiming at knew Kate would be coming to the cemetery with a gun,” Luke said. “Someone was very prepared.”

There was a knock on the door and Leigh stuck her head in. “Chase, Germanio’s on the phone from Savannah. He says it’s urgent.”

Chase put him on the speaker phone. “Hank, we’re all here. What’s going on?”

“I found Helen Granville,” Germanio said. “She’s dead.”

Chase closed his eyes. “How?”

“Hung herself. I found her sister’s house, but there were police already here. The sister found Mrs. Granville swinging from a rafter in the bedroom.”

“Did you call our ME in the Savannah field office?” Chase asked.

“He’s on his way. Helen Granville’s sister said she arrived here last night and was very frightened. The sister had to work today. When she came home, Helen was dead.”

“Did she say Granville’s wife seemed suicidal?” Luke asked.

“No, just ‘very frightened.’ The sister is pretty shaken up. I may be able to get more out of her when she calms down.”

“Keep me updated.” Chase ended the call and sighed. “Very, very bad day. Let’s finish this meeting. We all need to sleep. Talia, what did you find up in Ellijay?”

“The dogs never picked up the scent. Borenson might have been taken away in a car.” She looked at Luke. “Crime lab found nothing on the ugly bulldog. You want her?”

“Me?” Luke said. “Why me?”

“Because she’s going to a shelter otherwise. I’d take her, but I already have four dogs and my roommate says we can’t have any more.”

“I gave Daniel my last dog,” Luke said. “I can’t take another one.”

She shrugged. “She’s a nice dog. I hope somebody’ll want her at the shelter.”

Nobody moved and Luke sighed. “I’ll take the damn dog.”

Talia smiled. “I knew you would.”

“But you have to come down to Poplar Bluff with me tomorrow,” Luke said. “I have to interview teenaged girls who wouldn’t discuss the circumstances of Kasey Knight’s disappearance two years ago. You’re better talking to girls than I am.”

“Okay,” Talia said. “I’ll go, but you have to bring me some of your mama’s food.”

“Wait,” Nancy said. “Did you say Poplar Bluff?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “It’s about two hours south of here.”

Nancy took a list from her pocket. “And one of the places Mansfield had mapped.”

Chase leaned forward. “What else is on that list?”

Nancy looked up. “Panama City, Florida,” she said.

“Ashley Csorka,” Luke murmured, and Nancy nodded.

“This is Mansfield’s hit list,” she said. “This is where he went to grab the girls.”

“We can match against last knowns in the missing kids database,” Luke said, energized. “And to pictures in the catalog. This list is gold.”

“We need to know if Mansfield grabbed them or lured them,” Talia said, “and if he lured them, then how? Once we know how they’re being taken, we may be able to track them to Rocky.”

“And find the missing girls,” Luke said.

“Good work, people,” Chase said. “Let’s go get some rest. I’ll get the stenos to work on matching this list to the missing kids database during the night. Once we know names, we can begin informing parents. Be back here tomorrow at eight a.m.”

Everyone had risen when Leigh opened the door again, her expression pinched. “A call came in on the hotline, for Luke. A woman claims to have info on the girl in ICU.”

Luke jerked around to look at Chase. “We never released her existence to the press. Is she still on the hotline, Leigh?”

“No. She wants to meet you in front of the ER in twenty minutes. Alone.”

“I’ll go now, but the Csorka girl’s father’s supposed to be here at six.”

“I’ll stay,” Talia said. “I’ll talk with him and get his daughter’s DNA sample to the lab.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “The rest of you get some sleep. I’ll call if anything happens.”