Dead End (10 page)

“He wants you there, too? Even though you’re not working the case anymore?”

“He wants everyone there. But as soon as he’s done talking, I’m outta there. I called the cop in Chicago, and I’m still waiting to hear from him. That’s my priority today.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you heard from Connor?”

“No, but that’s not unusual. He’ll get to me when he can. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from him.” She stole a look at the clock on the dashboard, then turned the key in the ignition. “I need to get going.”

“I’ll give you a call tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll have news to exchange by then.” She thought of the conversation she’d just had with Grady. “Oh, speaking of news. Guess who used to date Melissa Lowery?”

“Art Sheridan.”

She laughed as she pulled away from the curb. “Grady Shields.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Of course, he tells me it was just a casual thing, just a few movies and dinners.”

“Does he know where she is now?”

“No. He claims to not even know where she’s from.”

“You say that as if you don’t believe him.”

“I thought there was something slightly evasive in his responses. I mean, how do you go out with someone and not know where they’re from? That’s the type of thing you ask when you first meet someone. But maybe that’s me. And maybe he just felt it was none of my business who he dated. And of course, it isn’t.”

“Well, maybe Will can come up with something.”

“I’m counting on it.” She made a left at the light and headed for the highway. “I have to go. I’m moving into heavy traffic. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

Annie dropped the phone into her lap and set it to voice mail, then eased onto the four-lane highway that would take her to the airport.

She sped along, reflecting back on the morning’s events. The Schoolgirl Slayer had revealed more of his hand by sending yet another letter, which she was eager to read. Evan had a solid contact in his case, and she was a step closer to Melissa Lowery. All in all, it had already been quite a day.

She hoped that the officer in Chicago would have something that would shed light on the deaths of the three young girls—his girls, as Evan had started referring to them. She knew he’d work this case until he solved it, and she loved him for that, for caring about three nameless girls who seemed to go unnoticed in death. What they had been in life had yet to be determined.

There would be no glory for him in the resolution of that case, unlike the case of the Schoolgirl Slayer, which would undoubtedly land Sheridan, Malone, and Weller on CNN and
Good Morning America.
It was more than likely that Sheridan wouldn’t even bother to call an all-out media conference once Evan found their killer. Since they were lumping these deaths in with the others—at least for now—there’d be no band playing for Evan, no recognition of his dedication and hard work.

Unless, of course, there was a cop involved. That would be news.

Spoken like a true cynic, she thought wryly.

As far as her own search was concerned, Will would come through for her, of that she was certain. God only knew where that trail would lead, or what she’d find, once she finally found Melissa.

13

It was almost 6:00 p.m. when Annie closed the door of John Mancini’s office behind her. She was stiff from sitting, earlier on the plane on her way back from Philadelphia, later in the day for the two-hour meeting that had just broken up. She rolled her shoulders while she walked to her own office, then stood next to her desk as she listened to her voice mail. When she’d heard all the messages, she smiled, snapped off the light, and took the elevator to the floor below.

“I just got your message.” She stood at the doorway to Will Fletcher’s office. “I’m glad I caught you before you left. You have something for me?”

“I was just getting ready to close up shop. I wasn’t sure if you were in the building. Someone said they’d seen you earlier.” Will leaned back in his chair. “Come on in, and I’ll—”

“Will . . . oh, hi, Annie, I didn’t know you were here.” Brendan Shields stood in the doorway. “We’re all heading over to Pike’s. It’s my brother Andrew’s birthday. You should come, too, Annie.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all week, since my girl is still in Pennsylvania and I’ve got nothing better to do.” Will stood and stretched. “I was just getting ready to leave anyway. How ’bout it, Annie? Come with us to Pike’s?”

“I think I’ll pass. I’ve been away all week and have to leave town again tomorrow. I have a lot of work to catch up on and a presentation to prepare. But thanks, Brendan. Next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Brendan looked back at Will. “You ready now?”

“I was just packing up. You can go on. I’ll meet you there.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” Brendan told him.

“If you’re sure . . .” Will piled some papers into his briefcase, hesitated momentarily, then folded one and handed it to Annie.

“Before I forget, here are the directions to that restaurant you and I talked about,” he said.

“Thanks.” She stuck the paper in her pocket without looking at it.

“Which restaurant is that?” Brendan asked.

“Oh, a crab place on the other side of the bay. In Rock Hall. It’s a favorite of Miranda’s and mine,” Will told him.

“Hey, I’m always up for crabs,” Brendan said. “What’s the name of it?”

“I’ll tell you about it while we’re walking to Pike’s. We are walking, right?”

“Sure, why not? It’s just a few blocks.” Brendan waited at the door for Will, then held it open for Annie before closing it. “Sure you don’t want to come down for a quick beer and a burger?”

“I’m sure, but thanks.”

“Catch you next time, then.” Brendan paused, then asked, “Say, you still unofficially working on Dylan’s case?”

“The file’s still open, so yes. I’m still taking a look at it.”

“Find anything we missed?”

“No. Nothing yet.” She smiled pleasantly in spite of the fact that Brendan’s attitude seemed annoyingly patronizing. “But then again, I haven’t had much time. It’s been a busy week. I promise I’ll let you know if we learn something new.”

“Were you able to find that agent you were looking for? What’s her name . . .”

“Melissa Lowery.”

“Yeah, her. You find her yet? Has her report turned up?” He stuck his hands in his pocket and struck a casual pose.

“No.” She glanced at Will, but as he gave no indication of having any knowledge of Melissa’s whereabouts, she followed his lead. For whatever reason, he didn’t seem inclined to share whatever information he’d found.

“I’ll keep asking around. Maybe she’s been in touch with someone. I can let you know.”

“Thanks, Brendan. I’d appreciate it.”

Annie fingered the piece of paper in her pocket. “And thanks again, Will, for the directions.”

“Anytime, Annie.” He slapped a friendly hand gently on her back. “Anytime . . .”

Annie walked with the two men to the elevator, her patience put to the test while the car stopped three times on the way to the lobby. She wanted nothing more than to open the folded sheet of paper and see what Will had found for her, but was forced to wait until she’d said good-bye to her coworkers. Once in her car, she opened the paper and read eagerly.

Grinning, she refolded the paper and stuck it in the top of her purse. She’d known Will wouldn’t let her down.

Melissa Lowery was living in West Priest, Montana, as Mariana Gray. Will hadn’t found a phone number, but he’d found an address.

The minute Annie arrived at her apartment, she checked the travel website for flight connections from Seattle, where she’d be at a conference from Tuesday afternoon through Wednesday night, to the airport closest to West Priest.

“Looks like that would be Great Falls,” she murmured as she studied the flight schedules.

The Wednesday-night flight wouldn’t get her in until late, and she’d still have to find a place to stay. But if she booked the 6:00 a.m. flight on Thursday, she’d be in Great Falls by 12:30. She could rent a car and be in West Priest—thirty-five miles according to a map she located through Google—by three. West Priest didn’t appear to be a very big town. Surely someone there would know Melissa.

A few clicks of the keyboard later, she’d booked the flight to Great Falls, a room at the closest motel for Thursday night, just in case, and a flight to Philly on Friday morning. Satisfied with her arrangements, she checked her e-mail before logging off the computer, hoping for some word from Connor, but there was nothing.

She showered and dried her hair and wrapped herself in her favorite robe, then went into her small bedroom she used as an office. She sat on the edge of the desk to listen to her phone messages.

“Annie, it’s Will. I didn’t want to say anything about Melissa in front of Brendan—no particular reason except that I figure if she’s taken such pains to disappear—and believe me, it wasn’t easy finding her—well, she must have a reason. Makes you wonder what she’s hiding, doesn’t it? Or from whom?” Will took a deep breath. “Anyway, you missed a hell of a party. All the Shieldses were out in force—except Connor, of course—though it started breaking up earlier than I’d have expected. Andrew apparently has a late date, and Grady has already downed his limit and has gone home, so that leaves me with Brendan, Mia, and Chloe Snyder, you remember her? Well, keep in touch, hear? Have a safe trip to the West Coast, and good luck connecting with Melissa. Let me know what you find.”

The line went dead and she erased the message. The next was Evan. “Annie, give me a call when you get in.”

One hang-up, and another message from Evan.

She dialed his number and counted the rings. On the fourth, right before the answering machine picked up, he answered.

“How was your meeting?” he asked.

“Long. How was the press conference?”

“Pretty much what we expected. Did you have time to look over the letter from the killer to Fox News?”

“I don’t have a copy.”

“I faxed it to you.”

“Oh.” She crossed the room and took several sheets from her machine’s in-tray. “There are a couple of faxes here . . . wait . . . yes, it’s here. Want me to look at it now?”

“If you have a minute. But hurry up, I have news I’m itching to share.”

“The fax can wait, then. Did you hear something from Chicago?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “This cop—he’s a detective now, Don Manley—has been looking into the case for months. He said he has several files he thinks I should take a look at.”

“Are you going to meet with him?”

“I’m flying out first thing tomorrow morning. He said he didn’t want to discuss it on the phone, but if I came out there, he’d tell me everything he knows.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“I am so antsy to talk to this guy, Annie. It sounded as if he’s got some really hot information.”

“Sheridan’s okay with you going out of town for a day or so in the middle of the investigation?”

“Sheridan’s attention right now is on Jackie Weller’s case.”

“How’s that going?”

“They’ve interviewed everyone at the country club and the pool company; no luck there. Apparently, there was some mix-up in scheduling with the owner of the landscaping company, but I understand they’re on for first thing tomorrow morning to talk to his crews.”

“I’m starting to feel they’ve pushed the limits on this, Evan. This guy’s gone what, over a week without another body turning up? He’s got to be due. He’s got to be jonesing for a kill right about now. If they don’t get him within the next twenty-four hours, they’re going to have another dead body on their hands.”

“Unfortunately, I think you might be right.”

“What information did they release to the press?”

“Only that they had traces of carpet fibers, years, makes, models of possible vehicles. Nothing about the grass clippings, though.”

“Good. That’s how they’ll nail him, you know.”

“You FBI types think you know it all, don’t you?”

She knew he was teasing but felt compelled to defend herself anyway.

“Hey, you study behavior, sometimes patterns emerge. Sometimes you read the patterns correctly, sometimes you don’t. It’s part science, part art. Neither is exact. You just do your best to read the signs and hope you’re interpreting them correctly.”

“Annie, I was joking.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just giving you the speech I wanted to give Sheridan the other day.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess because ultimately, he’s your boss.”

“Don’t ever let that stop you. I’m a big boy.”

“Okay, then, how about I felt it would have been unprofessional and borderline rude to correct him in front of the others.”

“That’s much more acceptable.”

“I have news, too.” She curled up in the chair and pulled her legs up under her. “Will found Melissa Lowery.”

“He really is good, isn’t he?” Without waiting for an answer, he asked, “Where is she?”

“Montana, living under the name Mariana Gray. I’m going to fly there on Thursday morning. I’m praying she’ll talk to me, and that she remembers what she put in that report. If I’m really lucky, maybe she’ll have kept a copy.” Annie bit her bottom lip. “That’s assuming she’ll talk to me.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“I don’t know. She’s gone to such lengths to conceal herself out there, even changed her name. That’s pretty extreme.”

“Maybe she just got stressed out with the whole routine, you know? It wouldn’t be the first time someone opted out of law enforcement and just tried to start their life over. And you know, she could have gotten married, which would account for the name change.”

“That would explain the last-name change, but not the first.”

“You think she’s hiding from something?”

“Or someone. Yes, it’s possible. She might just slam the door in my face once I tell her who I am.”

“Assuming that she does speak with you, do you think there’s anything in that report that will tell you something you don’t already know?”

“Probably not,” she admitted, “but it bothers me, that her report disappeared, then she disappeared. Then the other agent whose report is missing, Lou Raymond, is killed in a freak car accident. It’s making me uneasy, the more I think about it. It just seems . . . weirdly coincidental.”

“And anyone who knows you, knows you don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Have you ever met an FBI agent who did?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess I haven’t.”

He was silent for a moment, and she could almost see him, one elbow leaning on the desk in his office, the other resting on the arm of the chair. He’d have his shoes off and his shirt unbuttoned to the third button and his shirttails out. The familiarity of the image brought a smile to her face.

“So what are you going to do now?” she asked.

“Right now, I’m going to bed and praying to God the phone doesn’t ring so that I can get one good night’s sleep this week. Then, at the crack of dawn, I’m going to go into the office and copy the file on my girls, make an extra set of photos and lab reports to take to Chicago. I want to give Detective Manley a copy of everything I have on this guy. I’m hoping between the two of us . . .”

“You’re hoping to find what you need.”

“Exactly. I want to find whatever it is we need to catch this bastard. Bastards, I should say. There are obviously several at work here.”

“In the long run, that should make it easier to solve. The more of them there are, the more likely it is that one of them will screw up eventually.”

“One could only hope.” He yawned. “Sorry, babe.”

“No apologies necessary. Get some sleep, Evan. I’ll be turning in, too, in a few minutes.”

“Wish you were here, Annie.”

“So do I.” She stifled a yawn of her own. “But I’ll be there by Friday afternoon, Friday night at the latest. We should have a lot to talk about while we’re working on that deck.”

“Well, here’s hoping we both find the answers we’re looking for. You in Montana, me in Chicago . . .”

Annie hung up the phone and looked for her glasses so she could read the fax. The letter was exactly what she’d been led to expect.

DEAR FOX NEWS PEOPLE:

I THINK YOU NEED TO TALK TO D.A. SHERIDAN IN AVON COUNTY AND ASK HIM WHY HE DIDN’T TELL YOU ABOUT THE LETTER I SENT TO HIM EARLIER IN THE WEEK. I TOLD HIM THAT I DID NOT KILL THOSE OTHER THREE GIRLS—YOU KNOW ABOUT THOSE THREE GIRLS, RIGHT? THE ONES NO ONE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE? I DID NOT KILL THEM AND DO NOT LIKE THAT EVERYONE IS SAYING I DID. THERE IS A COPYCAT KILLER IN AVON COUNTY AND NO ONE IS LOOKING FOR HIM. THE GIRLS HE KILLS ARE NOT LIKE MY GIRLS. ANY IDIOT COULD TELL YOU THAT.

ALSO, I TOLD D.A. SHERIDAN THAT I WANTED TO BE REFERRED TO AS THE SCHOOLGIRL SLAYER. DID HE TELL YOU THAT?

I DIDN’T THINK SO. SINCE HE DIDN’T TELL YOU ANYTHING, I AM FORCED TO TELL YOU MYSELF. I THINK HE THINKS HE IS PLAYING A GAME WITH ME. HE SHOULD KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT A GAME.

I THINK YOU ARE SMARTER THAN HE IS AND WILL CALL ME BY MY NEW NAME.

THANK YOU.
THE SCHOOLGIRL SLAYER

More posturing, more of the same demand for attention. Interesting that he hasn’t mentioned any new kills, though, and has made no threats.

Annie read through the letter again.

He has to know that the police are closing in on him. Maybe that’s why he’s not being too cocky. He’s just setting the record straight, as he sees it, and trying to take full advantage of his fifteen minutes.