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Authors: Leslie Tentler

Tags: #Romance, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Thriller

Midnight Fear (19 page)

BOOK: Midnight Fear
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34

A
s Reid and Caitlyn approached the stables, she saw Manny waiting for them by the schooling ring used for horse training. A dark-haired, teenage girl stood with him.

“You okay, Caitlyn?” he asked as she and Reid dismounted. His concerned gaze lingered on her bruised temple. “Agent Novak told me about what happened in the hospital parking garage.”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn assured him, even though she felt shattered inside. She suspected Manny had also been informed of her friend’s murder.

Reid took Sampson’s reins and led both their horses into the stable. On their ride back from the woods, he’d told her that Bliss’s body had been discovered that morning, dumped beneath an interstate overpass just outside of D.C. Caitlyn tried to tamp down the pain and guilt she felt. She’d been preparing herself, but she realized now a small part of her had been holding out hope that Bliss would be found alive.

“Caitlyn, this is my daughter, Maria,” Manny said. The teenager mumbled a shy greeting, her eyes flicking briefly upward to Caitlyn’s before returning to the packed dirt.

“It’s nice to meet you, Maria.” She did her best to appear welcoming.

“If it’s all right, Maria’s going to be staying with me for a while.”

“Of course.” Caitlyn thought of the apartment over the stables. It had only a small living area, an efficiency kitchen and single bedroom. “But do you think you’ll have enough room?”

“The couch unfolds into a bed. We’ll do just fine.”

Caitlyn knew from a previous conversation with Manny that Maria was thirteen. The girl was thin, with dark hair and sad, chocolate eyes. Manny had gone to Texas to reunite with his daughter, but Caitlyn hadn’t expected him to return with her. She thought of him running away with Maria once before and hoped this time she was here with her mother’s permission.

“I’d like to have a word with you, Ruiz,” Reid said upon returning. “Maybe we should go into Caitlyn’s office.”

“Okay…” Manny sounded hesitant.

“You’re not in any trouble,” Caitlyn told him quietly.

He lifted his ball cap from his head and ran a hand through his thick hair before settling it back into place. Once the men walked away, Caitlyn placed her hand on Maria’s shoulder. “Maybe I can show you around while they’re inside. If Manny hasn’t already?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Call me Caitlyn, okay? Do you like horses?”

“I love them.” A spark of interest lit her eyes.

Caitlyn watched as Reid and Manny disappeared into the stables. She was all too aware the topic of conversation would be her safety, and what Manny could do to help protect her in Reid’s absence.

 

“I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“Don’t be. I understand.”

They were back at the farmhouse, having returned there after the stables closed for the afternoon. Reid had already been upstairs to pack, and his duffel bag now sat in the living room. His slate-gray eyes held worry. “I know the news about Bliss Harper has hit you pretty hard.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, determined to hide her feelings. “You’re needed in the city. Probably much more than I need you. I’m just grateful for the time you’ve been here.”

“Manny coming back a couple of days early was good timing,” Reid said as he picked up the duffel, slung its strap over his shoulder and walked to where she stood. “He and his daughter will be staying with you in the evenings. There will also be a patrol unit doing a check on the grounds several times each night.”

She nodded, thinking that at least Manny and Maria would have more room in her house than in the cramped apartment over the stables.

“This is important, Caitlyn. I don’t want you going
out alone. You stay here or you take someone with you. And definitely no more going into the woods by yourself. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she agreed, then asked the question that had been on her mind. “Has Bliss’s family been notified?”

“It hasn’t made the news yet, which probably means they’re still notifying next of kin before releasing the victim’s identity.”

Caitlyn bowed her head. She thought of Bliss’s mother and father, her two siblings. How many slumber parties and birthday events had she been to at the Harper household growing up? She and Bliss had been roommates at equine camp during the summers. They had been in ballet recitals together. Now she was…gone.

“This isn’t your fault,” he reminded.

She wanted to believe him, but couldn’t. “I’m going to the funeral, Reid. I’ll be coming back to D.C. next week.”

He frowned. “I think it would be better if you didn’t.”

She understood his reservations. The funeral would be a media frenzy, and having the sister of the original Capital Killer in attendance would only add fuel to the fire. Worse, she didn’t know how the Harper family would react to seeing her. William Harper was a well-respected appellate judge. He and his wife had been close friends with Caitlyn’s parents, but they were also among the many people who’d broken ties with her family after Joshua’s arrest. Only Bliss had
stayed in contact with Caitlyn, and this was what it had gotten her.

Even if Reid told her not to blame herself, she feared the Harper family would. Still, she had to be there for Bliss. To say goodbye.

“I have to go,” she said. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Finally, he gave a small nod. “As soon as the funeral’s scheduled, we’ll make arrangements.”

Caitlyn felt her heart ache. It seemed to her the world was moving too fast, and growing more insane with each passing hour.

Reid moved to the door. She could hear the solemn ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer behind him.

“Set the alarm and open it only for Manny and his daughter. They’ll be here before dark.” His eyes held hers. “Take care, Caitlyn.”

 

The fluorescent lighting inside the conference room cast a pall over Mitch’s blunt features. For the past forty-five minutes, he’d been briefing members of the joint D.C. police and FBI task force on the latest details of the investigation. More than twenty law enforcement personnel had been called in for the Friday night meeting. Reid leaned against the far wall near the window, his arms crossed over his chest. On a display board behind Mitch and SAC Johnston were blown-up photos of the four women who had been killed, including Bliss Harper. There was also a grainy black-and-white image
of the van seen leaving the hospital parking deck following Caitlyn’s attack.

“Take one and pass the others down,” Mitch instructed the room as Agent Morehouse stepped forward and handed the stack of photocopied sheets to a police detective in the front row. “The man in the photo is David Hunter. Caucasian male, mid-thirties, six foot, receding hairline. He escaped a psychiatric hold at Washington Hospital earlier this week.”

“This is our guy?” the detective asked.

“He’s only a person of interest at this point,” Mitch clarified. “But he is wanted for assaulting a federal officer. He should be considered mentally unstable and has been known to carry a weapon, so approach with caution. His photo’s been circulated to local news outlets, as well.”

Reid listened as Mitch fielded several other questions, including one about talking to the media.

“Tell any reporter to get in touch with SAC Johnston, Agent Novak or myself. For anyone else, your reply is ‘no comment.’ I’m dead serious about no more leaks.”

Another hand went up. “Do we have a profile of the killer, or should we just be looking for Hunter?”

“Agent Novak?” Mitch yielded the floor and Reid walked to the front of the room.

“Our data’s preliminary, but more than likely we’re looking for a white male, mid-thirties to early forties, unremarkable physical appearance, although he’s strong enough to overpower a woman and relocate the body postmortem,” Reid said, starting with the physical as
sessment. He moved into the intellectual and psychological aspects. “We think he has at least a four-year university degree and is gainfully employed, possibly even in a position of power or authority. He may be congenial, but masking a deep-seated anger toward women.”

“You think?” A uniform gave a snorting laugh.

Reid looked at him. “The bottom line is we’re not looking for a lowlife here. The unsub is probably white collar, no criminal record and well integrated into society. In all likelihood, the victims don’t perceive him as an immediate threat. In fact, they may have initially felt safe around him.”

“Has the copycat been in contact with Joshua Cahill?” The question came from an agent in the back of the room.

“We considered that early on, but to our knowledge, no,” Mitch supplied. “Cahill’s correspondence and visitations are being monitored. We’ve also looked into the prison guards working the wing where Cahill is being kept, but they’ve all turned up clean.”

“Is that all, Agent Tierney?” SAC Johnston asked when the questions ebbed.

Mitch responded in the affirmative, and Johnston moved to the center of the briefing table. The room’s fluorescent lighting reflected off his bald head, and he placed his hands on his hips, revealing muscular forearms. “As many of you are aware, Bliss Harper—the latest victim—is the daughter of William H. Harper, a high court appellate judge. The pressure is going to rise
on arresting a suspect—let’s make it happen soon. One more thing. Those of you who helped canvas the area where Ms. Harper’s body was found need to report to Agent Morehouse in room three.”

As the group dispersed, several of the Bureau’s field agents greeted Reid, welcoming him back. He shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, then began helping Mitch pack up the photos and other items from the investigation.

“How’d I do?” Mitch asked.

“You were solid,” Reid told him, meaning it.

“SAC Johnston would probably prefer you take over as lead.”

“If Johnston wanted that, trust me, he would’ve said so.” Reid briefly examined the series of cellophane bags that held the chess pawns—now four of them—as well as the Tiffany horseshoe charm that had been used to identify the first victim found in the row house. Mitch saw him looking at the charm.

“Speaking of horse country, how’s Ms. Cahill?”

Reid had told him about the call Caitlyn had received from Joshua, and about the web camera hidden inside her home. He put the items in a labeled cardboard box, which would have to be returned to the evidence room. “She’s upset about Bliss Harper. They were close friends.”

“Did you work out any local protection for her?”

“I’ve got the Middleburg Police conducting drive-bys and Manny Ruiz staying at her house.”

Mitch shook his head. “From convict to crusader.”

“Without Bureau approval for a security detail, I don’t have much choice. But Caitlyn trusts him. I’m starting to, as well.”

“You ask me, a leopard doesn’t change its spots. Once a con, always a con.” Mitch tossed the remaining flyers with Hunter’s photo on them into a waste-basket. “I’m on my way to the morgue. The M.E. just got permission from the Harper family to perform the autopsy. Judge Harper’s a VIP, so they’re not waiting until Monday.”

Reid drew in a tight breath. Bliss’s photo lay on top of the items he’d placed inside the evidence box. It stared out at him.

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

35

C
aitlyn returned downstairs once she’d gotten Maria settled into one of the guest rooms. The teenager had been thrilled by the four-poster bed and homey patchwork quilt with eyelet ruffle, and Caitlyn had left her listening to her iPod. As she walked into the kitchen, she found Manny nursing a cup of coffee.

“I have a gun safe,” she mentioned, noticing his shotgun that leaned against the wall next to the fridge. “Or do you anticipate needing that?”

Manny smiled. “Hopefully not. But I like to be prepared.”

“Is this decaf?”

When he nodded, she poured a cup for herself and sat down across from him.

“How are you doing, Caitlyn?” he asked.

She shrugged, trying to count how many times she’d been asked that question over the past few days. Searching for a change of subject, she said, “I guess you heard about the copperhead outside the stables.”

“I heard your FBI agent blew it away.” He chuckled. “Some of the handlers couldn’t wait to tell me. There hasn’t been that much drama around here since…”

He fell silent, and Caitlyn realized he’d almost mentioned Aggie, or possibly his detainment by law enforcement.

“Sorry, Caitlyn.”

“It’s okay.” She took a sip of coffee, thinking of the past few weeks. “There’s been a lot of activity around here lately. So much for the quiet country life.”

He nodded in stoic agreement. Caitlyn decided to take the opportunity of their being alone together to broach the topic of his daughter.

“Maria seems like a very sweet girl. And I want you to know she’s welcome here, Manny, for as long as you need. But I didn’t realize you were planning to bring her back with you.”

“The truth is, I wasn’t.” The lines bracketing his mouth deepened. “Her mother’s having some issues. Turns out she’s got a new boyfriend, and it doesn’t look like Maria’s too wanted in the picture right now. In fact, Selma asked if I’d let her stay with me for a while.”

Caitlyn wondered if Maria knew her mother had wanted a break. “For how long?”

“She says a few weeks or a month. But I’m guessing longer.”

“Then she should probably be registered for school.”

“I’m figuring that, too. I just didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much all at once. I was also wonder
ing if her mother might change her mind. Start missin’ her, you know?”

“How does Maria feel about all this?”

“I’m surprised she agreed to come back with me,” he admitted. “She barely knows me, and the things she’s probably heard about me from her mother can’t be good. It makes me wonder if things are still that bad for her with Selma.”

He shook his head. “I’d hoped Selma had grown up, started thinkin’ of her child first instead of just herself. But I guess not. It’s funny that seven years ago she had me put in jail for taking Maria away. Now she wants me to take her off her hands. I’m glad to have her—it gives me a chance to get to know my little girl again. But I’m worried about her.”

“If there’s anything I can do, Manny.”

He seemed to consider her offer. “If I enroll her in school, I might need your help gettin’ her some clothes. It’s warm back in Texas and the weather’s already turning cold here. I don’t know much about fashion, never mind what teenage girls like to wear.”

“I’d be happy to help.” Caitlyn thought it might be fun to take Maria shopping. “I also have a few things here she might like—some jackets and sweaters?”

“That’d be nice.”

“Let’s take one day at a time,” she suggested. “But if it looks like Maria might be more of a…permanent addition, we might want to consider moving the two of you to an apartment in Middleburg. It would be closer to
the school and you’d have more room. If you’re worried about rent, we can discuss an increase in your pay.”

“Caitlyn.” Manny laid his sun-weathered hand over hers on the table. Gratitude shone in his dark eyes. “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Hiring me and giving me another chance, even when you had good reason not to. I’m sorry about your friend. And I’m prayin’ they catch this psycho so your life can get back to normal.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“So…you and this Agent Novak?”

Surprised, Caitlyn’s eyes flew to Manny’s. His were filled with quiet amusement.

“I didn’t mean to make you blush, Caitlyn.” He regarded her over the rim of his cup. “It’s just that the two of you seem…close. If I overstepped my bounds—”

“You haven’t, Manny. But Reid and I…” Words failed her, and Caitlyn shook her head, unsure of what to say. They were friends, definitely, quite possibly something more. The care between them was clear, as was the deep physical attraction. But she truly didn’t know where she stood with him. Once the investigation was closed, she wondered if Reid would fade from her life again.

“He’s a good man. Even if he did interrogate me like a son of a bitch.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Manny’s comment. Caitlyn clasped her coffee cup in both hands, feeling its heat seep into her palms.

“It’s just that the timing isn’t right for us.” Her eyes grew serious. “Maybe it never will be.”

“Timing is overrated. You ask me, you don’t let it stand in the way of being happy with someone.” Manny stood, placing his hand on her shoulder. Then he rinsed his cup in the sink and set it upside down in the dish drainer. Picking up the shotgun, he bid her good-night. Momentarily, she heard his heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.

Caitlyn wondered what Reid was doing now. Whether the FBI was even one step closer to finding Bliss’s killer. She had hoped he would call her that evening to update her, but she knew about the task force meeting and suspected he had his hands full.

Getting up from the table, she peered through the kitchen window into the darkness and glimpsed a vehicle pulling away outside. But it wasn’t a Middleburg Police squad car. Instead, it was the Treadwells’ station wagon that disappeared into the copse of trees as it headed back down to the main road. She had spoken to Sophie earlier by phone and she hadn’t mentioned coming over. Caitlyn’s guess was that it was Rob, dropping in again to check on her. He must have noted Manny’s truck in the driveway and decided not to come inside.

She thought of his recent overfamiliarity with her and felt glad he’d changed his mind.

 

Reid stood with Mitch a few feet from the stainless steel counter that held Bliss Harper’s corpse. Dr. Ketel, one of a half-dozen medical examiners for the District of Columbia, was conducting the external review of the
body. Bespectacled, with thinning gray hair, he spoke into the recorder that hung over the table. “Three lacerations found on the right breast, two on the left, the latter including a near excise of the nipple.”

His gloved hands explored the lacerations. “Incisions are two to three inches in length, approximately one-half inch deep…”

The verbal description continued. A body block had already been used to position the corpse for autopsy. Reid knew what would come next—the Y-incision that would open the body cavity in order to observe any irregularities or indicators as to cause of death. Not that it was necessary, he thought grimly. The blackened ligature marks encircling the throat made it clear she’d been strangled. Still, all deaths where homicide was evident or suspected required that an autopsy be performed.

“…the body bears a series of marks, approximately one-fourth inch in diameter, traveling up the inside of the right forearm. They appear to be cigarette burns,” Dr. Ketel observed in an unemotional monotone. “Similar, additional marks are present on the torso and thighs…”

Despite the low temperature inside the suite, Reid felt hot in his suit, his dress shirt and tie confining. Anger and repulsion churned inside him and he looked briefly away. The body was a mess, telling the story of the agony the woman had endured. Cuts, burns and bruises covered her pale skin, as offensive as graffiti on a church wall. Whoever their killer was, he was starting to take the abuse further.

“He’s escalating,” Reid murmured to Mitch, who gave a focused nod of agreement.

“…multiple ligature marks indicate the victim was choked repeatedly prior to a full asphyxiation and crushing of the trachea…”

The antiseptic-laced air, combined with the faint scent of Mitch’s musky aftershave, made him feel slightly nauseous. He left the room, needing a moment to pull himself together.

Toughen up,
he thought critically, pacing the windowless basement corridor. But the realization that the body on the table was a friend of Caitlyn’s—that she’d been abducted from a place Caitlyn still visited—made the autopsy harder to take than if it had just been a random victim. He didn’t want to feel that way; all victims mattered. But Bliss Harper had affected him in particular, made it seem all too real how easily Caitlyn could be the one lying on that table instead.

He had been gone a few minutes when the door to the autopsy room opened and Mitch stepped outside. “Jesus, Novak. You’re acting greener than Morehouse.”

Reid rubbed his forehead with the second and third fingers of his right hand. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been away longer than I realized. Did I miss anything?”

“The external’s over. Victim was raped, but no semen. Vaginal bruising indicates he got rough. Ketel also thinks there was penetration with a foreign object.”

Reid nodded. He expected Mitch to give him hell, but to his surprise he let the opportunity pass.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Take your time, okay? After this is over, maybe you and I should go have that beer. I can bring you up to speed, give you more detail than we were able to cover in the briefing.”

A high-pitched, electronic buzzing noise came from inside the autopsy suite. Reid knew from experience it was the bone saw Dr. Ketel was using to open the chest cavity. Mitch gave him a last, concerned look and returned to the room.

A persistent thought ran through his mind. If the killer was escalating, he’d also want the thrill with increasing frequency.

He would abduct another woman soon.

BOOK: Midnight Fear
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