Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) (21 page)

“Cheap construction.” Murphy placed his other hand over his zipper.

“I'm ready.”

“Ready?”

She rose and placed her back to him. “Unzip me.”

“What? You want me to unzip your dress?”

Charley removed the wig and tossed it onto the floor. Her long golden locks tumbled down her back. She reached with her hand and draped her hair over her shoulder. “I can't reach it. I'll change in the bathroom.”

Murphy eased behind her, his hands shook as he unzipped her dress. He swallowed hard at the softness of her skin. His fingers trickled down her back.

She shivered. “That tickles. I need to visit my massage therapist.”

“Char, you don't have on a bra.”

“It's built into the dress.”

“Oh,” he said as his hands shadowed her shoulders. He licked his mouth, admiring her. His lips would fit perfect in the curve of her neck and shoulder. He leaned toward her.

She scooted off the bed. He grabbed her pillow, covered his erection, and placed his hands over his face. He peered between his fingers, as she gathered her overnight bag, while trying to manage her loose dress barely covering her ample breasts.

As she walked towards the bathroom. “I'll be a few minutes.”

Murphy attempted to adjust himself as she disappeared behind the door. “I will not survive the night.” He dropped his head as his mind spun out of control. Someday, he will learn not to have sex with women he doesn’t care when they were born. “Need self-control,” he mumbled. The last time was a disaster.

What he wanted was his bastion, the woman who accepted his weaknesses and worshiped his strengths. The woman who would embrace him with eagerness whether he had stepped out of the shower or from a hot sweaty day digging a ditch.

Intelligence, independence were priority. One who displayed more skin than clothing need not apply, and trashy was not sexy. Murphy's father lamented the woman in his life should be a lady in public and a tiger in bed. Never park your dick where you wouldn't want to live. Murphy tried to live by his advice, but failed. He had not found his tigress. Over the years, he had turned over many rocks only to find colonies of blood-sucking insects.

He had tired of the Jessica Coopers of the world. Months ago, he revaluated his priorities in what he wanted in a relationship. Murphy plopped on the bed with his hands behind his head, seeing his reflection in the mirrored ceiling tiles.

He couldn't remember half the names of the women in his past. They were nothing more than momentary regimental recreation. He had never committed, nor considered it. Not once had he told a woman he loved her because he didn't. Why bother? She was lying there waiting for him with open arms, and legs. Their gold-digging fingers wanted his wallet, while his was temporary satisfaction.

Now, he created excuses to be with Charley. He didn't care if he spent the evening talking about work. She was there, in front of him, expecting nothing from him, but he wanted everything from her.

The bathroom door opened he rose from the bed. “Hey, when's your birthday?”

“My birthday? November seventh. Why?”

“Curious.”

“When's yours?”

“March fifth.” He smiled. “You look like Catwoman.”

The black leather gear clung to her shape. “You like it? This is what I wear when I ride my Ducati.”

Charley sat on the edge of the bed, removing the wig from the floor, and stuffed it into the satchel. “I have everything I need in my backpack.”

He swirled his finger in front of his face. “You removed your face. I prefer the real you.”

“I don't like make-up.”

“Natural is better. What’s next?”

“We need to sabotage something in the room,” she said, glancing. “The camera, I'll fry it.” She motioned for him to come closer. “Here, put this in your ear so we can hear each other.”

Murphy put the earpiece into his ear. “And?”

She reached inside her fanny pack and removed a wire. “I'll sabotage the camera by causing a short in the electronic system.” Charley stood from the bed and stepped to the dresser. She opened the camera panel, removed the batteries, and with the wire, connected the negative and positive terminals, causing them to short. “You'll be in the hall by the office door, pretending to be on the phone. If the manager comes to the office, you complain about the camera. I don't care how you do it but make sure he does not enter the office. Get him into our room. Engage him with conversation.”

“If he comes in here, he may wonder where you are?”

“Turn on the shower after I'm in the vent. If he asks, tell him I'm preparing for our night or something.”

“Are you sure you'll fit in the shaft?”

“It's eighteen by eighteen inches, so yes.”

“How long will it take to download the data?”

“Five minutes tops. It doesn't grab the operating system or programs, only data such as documents and files. I doubt these guys are gurus. Most likely everything will be in conventional folders.”

Charley clambered onto the credenza. Overhead she unlocked the clasp to the hinged vent cover. She grabbed the edges and pulled herself inside the industrial sheet metal ductwork. “Damn, it's cold, geez.”

Murphy hoisted onto the credenza. As he stood, his head cleared the opening, seeing her feet. “Char, I don't know if you're brave or crazy, but for now I'm going for crazy.”

She pulled her knees to her chest, rolled onto her side, and shimmied onto her stomach to face him. She smiled. “I'll take crazy.”

He placed his hands on the sides of her head. “Be careful. Do not move until I turn on the shower, okay?”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. “Let's do this.”

“I'm ready.” She curled into a ball and turned away from his direction. “After this, dinner.”

Murphy scaled off the credenza, turned on the shower, and left the room to pace near the manager's office door.

“Test 1-2-3,” Charley said.

“Loud and clear,” Murphy said.

“Tell me if you can hear me moving in the shaft.”

“No.”

“Good. I can see the office vent. It's about fifteen feet ahead.”

“No one is around. The music in the main hall cranked up. Maybe that's a good sign.”

“Drowning out the screams of Jessica Cooper?”

“She's not screaming.”

“What would she be doing?”

“Well, not screaming, maybe a lot of moaning and panting.”

“I thought men liked screamers?”

“Rule of thumb for men, if she's screaming, she’s faking. It's all about the breathing and the body.”

“Baking? Baking what? Strange time to make a cake.”

Murphy snickered. “Faking.”

“Ah. I'm here. Lights are on, the desk is right below me. This vent is the same as the one in our room. I'll use a hook to push the latch.”

“Then what?”

“I'll drop inside, insert the drive into a USB port, run the software Scott designed to bypass any passwords and the firewall. I'll return to the vent and wait for it to finish. The tower is in the chair cubby. If they come in, they'll never see it. The screensaver is going, so the PC is running.”

“The hall is clear.”

“Okay, here I go.”

He pressed the earpiece into his ear. She dropped from the desk onto the floor. A faint squeak of a chair wheel pierced his ear.

“Okay, the thumb drive is in. I'm running the bypass software. Annnnnd, we're in. Going back up.”

“Tell me when you're in the vent.”

“I'm in the vent.”

“That was quick.”

“All I had to do was pull myself through the opening. Now we wait. The program will tell me when the transfer is complete. Right now it's at ten percent.”

“Hall is clear.”

“Fifty percent and searching.”

“I hear someone on a microphone in the main room.”

“Maybe it's karaoke night.” Charley chuckled.

“I had this image of someone singing naked to a crowd of naked people. It was not pretty.”

“How about… stand-up comedy night? Seventy percent and rolling.”

He chuckled. “Hall is clear.”

“Damn, the air turned on. Good time to wish I were a penguin. It's cold.”

He grinned and licked his lips. “I'd rather be a dolphin.”

“Almost there. Ninety percent and it is… done.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic. I’ll meet you in our room.” Murphy pushed from the wall.

“Stay put. I'm in the office, thumb drive recovered. I'm headed up.”

“I can't believe we did this.”

“We’re not clear, Sean. Keep your pants on.”

“I can always dream,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m in the shaft, securing the vent cover. I'm coming home. Don’t enter our room until I've landed.”

Murphy checked the hall, no one. This was too easy. Something has to go wrong. It was Murphy's Law.

“I'm in the room. Return.”

“Excellent.”

She sat shivering on the bed.

“Charley, you okay?”

“I'm freezing,” she said as she pulled the velvet bedspread around her shaking body. Her teeth chattered and her fingers were blue.

“Hey, c'mere.” He scooped her into his arms and laid her onto the bed, wrapping his body around her. He tucked the cover around her and rubbed her with his hands. “Close your eyes, Char, you'll be warm soon.”

“Thank you,” she said softly as she held the thumb drive between them. “All this for something so small that may offer something so much bigger.”

“What do you want to do now?” he said, embracing her.

“Let's go home Sean. I don't like it here.”

“Good idea. You warm enough?”

“Yeah,” she said, wiggling out of his arms and the covers. “I'm leaving my leathers on.”

“You look good in leather,” he said as he slid off the bed and grabbed his backpack. “Let's go home.”

“We should take the side door at the end of the hall. We don’t want to be seen leaving.”

She snatched her overnight bag, walked into the bathroom and turned off the shower. He waited for her at the door. She trotted towards him as he opened the door for her. In the hall, she stalled. “Wait, I forgot something. Stay here. I’ll be a second.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Charley closed the door, leaving him in the hall. She scurried across the room to the nightstand, opened the drawer, grabbed the green dolphin ring, and stuffed it in her backpack.

Chapter 24

Two Spares and a Strike

Two Spares and Lorton, VA – Faraday Farms

Sunday, 22 May – 11:12 AM

Charley swiveled the office chair back and forth, staring at the ceiling as her mind shifted between the recent changes surrounding her professional and personal life. In the last two months, much had happened. Her softening attitude permitted her to experience sincere warmth towards the man sitting next to her sipping his coffee. A man whose touch didn’t sting. She glanced at him. His coffee mug to his lips, Murphy toasted her. He spent more time with her and less everywhere else.

“You okay?” Murphy said.

Charley blew a raspberry. “I heard from Scott this morning. The hard drive from Natalie’s computer had nothing suspicious or valuable.”

“Fingerprints on the DVD?”

“Natalie’s only.”

Murphy shook his head. “That sucks.”

“You ready to go to the firing range?” She turned and unhooked her shoulder harness from the back of the chair.

“Yes. Could you not outscore me this time?”

“Jealous?” She grinned.

“I am a man, so…” Murphy rubbed his chest with his hand.

“Dream on, tree boy.” Charley draped the harness over her shoulder.

“You’re the only person I know who can put three bullets in the same entry point.”

“Well, Sean, consider this. If you’re ever on your knees with a gun to your head,” Charley checked her weapon and secured it in the holster, “first, I’ll shoot his trigger finger, then I’ll put one in his temple. Unlike some agents, I go nowhere without my weapon.”

“Wouldn’t attempting to shoot someone’s trigger finger be risky?”

Charley nudged him with her arm. “Would you trust anyone else?”

Murphy admired the dust on the floor. “No.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Exactly.”

“You’re a dangerous woman.”

“Sean, put your alpha male between your legs and let’s go kill a few silhouettes.”

Their cell phones chimed simultaneously.

She buried her face into her hands. “Please, no.”

“Put your boots on, Char. We’re going hunting.”

“No crossbow fun today.” She worked her feet into her combat boots, tied the laces, and stood.

“Unless the killer is there.”

“Gives me an excuse to put a slug in his apricot.” She patted Murphy’s shoulder as she walked past him.

Herndon, VA – St. Francis Lutheran Church – Shalidor Drive

Next to Lawson’s Bowling Alley - 1:20 PM

In the massive, landscaped gardens of St. Francis Lutheran Church, Natalie Norman laid at rest nestled between two raised flowerbeds.

Charley and Murphy crouched on their knees to examine the child posed in the same fashion as Robin and Olivia. Her slender body lying on a green flannel blanket surrounded by nine white patchouli scented candles. A handmade yellow pillow supported her head. The differences in the dresses intrigued them. Robin and Olivia’s were solid colors. Natalie’s was two-tone. Cream top, light green skirt, and gathered at the waist with a ruffled collar. The shoes were the same lightweight sneakers, laced with green ribbon. The socks on her feet were mint green. In the victim’s hands were three yellow carnations.

Murphy scooted to the child’s shoulder. His gloved finger identified the same yellow velvet bow in her hair.

Behind them Doobie’s agitation spilled from his voice. “Dumped at the church the Normans attend.” He tramped in circles. His hands never still, they rubbed his head, wandered across his face, until he cracked his knuckles and punched the air. “It’s next door, people. Next door to the bowling alley, the fucking abduction site.”

Charley rushed to him, clasping his hands in hers, she brought them to her chin. “Whoa, big guy. Breathe, Doobie, breathe.” She massaged his neck with her fingers. “That’s it, deep slow breaths.”

Murphy stood behind Charley. “Doobie, how about you and I go for a walk?”

Doobie took control of his hands and wrung them. “I’m okay. I needed to let loose. No walls for me to destroy.”

Charley cupped his cheeks with her palms. “You okay? Can we move forward?”

“Yes, please.” Doobie’s eyes trailed into the distance. “I’m sorry. Stress. Little girls, man, little girls.”

“Stay strong.” Charley eyed Doobie then Murphy as she sighed. She nodded at Murphy. “Go.”

Murphy admired her tenderness towards the only father figure she had. The person who helped bring her into this world and witnessed her success as an agent. Murphy ran his finger around the inside of his collar. He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t he dump her at the bowling alley? He returned Robin and Olivia to the original site.”

“Confusion.” Charley circled the body and gazed out over the lawn. “He anticipated police patrolling the bowling alley property. What better way to mock us than this? Make us appear incompetent.”

“Same vicinity,” Doobie said.

“Far enough for us to miss him,” Murphy said. “Why would he leave the body at a church?”

“Shock value.” Charley returned to Natalie’s side and stood next to Murphy. “Doobie, who found her?”

“After church services,” Doobie pointed towards the east, “two boys were playing by the tree line, which separates the property from the bowling alley. They saw her and ran like hell to tell the pastor they found Natalie. The Normans were with the minister.” Doobie combed his fingers through his thick locks. “Dammit people, they thought she was alive and asked where she was. The boys led them to Natalie’s body. Mrs. Norman fainted two seconds before her husband. They’re at the trauma center.”

“Hmmm.” Murphy rubbed his eyes. “This character is beyond cruel. He’s heartless. Cold-blooded. Think about it. A soccer field behind an elementary school, a playground, and now here. God’s house.”

“What are you saying, Sean?” Charley shimmied closer to him.

“Char, he places the victims where children may find them. This animal’s plan is definitive.”

“You believe he’s orchestrating the discovery?”

“Yes. He’s determined not to only destroy the victims, but hurt living children. Who does crap like this, Char?”

“His vendetta is against children?”

“Maybe not children, but a certain child. One from his past. You said the victims are representative, a conduit.”

“This manifestation may go as deep as schoolyard bullying, ridicule, feelings of inadequacy. This isn’t about love. This is revenge.”

“No. It’s both.”

“Revenge against someone he loves. That makes sense.” Charley paced frantically. “He has a sister.”

“Not his mother?” Doobie said.

“No, if it was his mother, he would murder adult women. This targets a certain age group. Something happened during his life when he was ten or twelve. The clothing is from the eighties. He’s our age, Sean.”

“Char, Doobie, I’ll bet my life savings, my Harley, and my house, he attended the same school as one of the victims.”

“Maybe Carmichael can give us more,” Doobie said.

“My opinion, Natalie’s cause of death will be the same as Olivia’s.” Murphy said. “The crime scenes are the same. Nothing new.”

“Anal,” Charley said.

“He’s an ass all right.” His medical bag in his hand, Carmichael trotted towards them. “He is consistent, isn’t he?”

“I’ll give him that much,” Doobie said while Carmichael dropped to his knees to examine the victim. Charley and Murphy situated themselves on the opposite side of the body. Doobie stood behind them while sweat coated his forehead.

“Three yellow carnations, he purchased these. They symbolize rejection, and distance,” Charley said. “Overuse of yellow can cause a disturbing effect, it makes babies cry. A nursery should never be all yellow. Used with black, it suggests caution. Natalie is African American. He’s warning us it’s not over. There’s more coming.”

“Isn’t yellow associated with cowardice?” Murphy said.

“This guy is no coward. He proved that by becoming brassy, confident, comfortable. He’s enjoying this. His purpose is changing or evolving into another direction. Now he’s beyond dangerous,” Charley said.

“The candles burned less than an hour,” Murphy said.

After he removed the flowers and placed them in an evidence bag, Carmichael determined the time of death. “Natalie’s been dead about nine hours.”

“He killed her around three-thirty this morning,” Charley said.

Doobie stepped around them stopping behind Carmichael. “Property visibility is low. The church grounds are covered in trees and gardens.”

Carmichael waved to Phillip Fleming who was on his hands and knees combing through the grass searching for evidence. “Let’s transport her.”

Fleming trotted towards them with a body bag. Murphy helped Carmichael lift the victim for Fleming to place the bag underneath her. With Natalie’s body above the blanket, Murphy’s brows creased. “Stop.” He pointed with his head. “Well, what do we have here?” Hidden in the folds of the cover a silver coin shined.

“A quarter?” Charley glanced at Murphy and Doobie. She stooped, retrieved the coin and waited for Fleming to ready the bag, and handed it to Fleming to label into evidence. “We didn’t release to the press we found a roll of quarters behind the bowling alley.”

Carmichael and Murphy laid Natalie on the body bag while Fleming bagged and tagged the quarter.

Curious, Charley approached Fleming, holding out her hand. “I want to see the coin again.” He gave her the clear plastic evidence bag. She inspected the contents. “Unbelievable.”

“What?” Murphy scurried over to her.

“The quarter is twenty-nine years old.” She smiled. “His age.”

“Explains the vintage dresses.”

“Possible.” Doobie scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. “So, we hunt down every twenty-nine-year-old male in Northern Virginia and hope we find one who admits to abducting the victim, held her before bringing her back to the crime scene.”

“Wish it were that easy,” Charley said. “He didn’t stray too far from the point of contact, same with the other two.”

Murphy stood while Carmichael remained crouched. “I understand what you’re saying. I don’t believe he was nearby. Someone would have seen Natalie.”

“But he had time to stash her somewhere and return,” Charley said.

Carmichael motioned to Fleming for an assist. Murphy acknowledged Carmichael’s indication he and Fleming would handle the transport. “No way. He had her, he’s running.”

As they carried Natalie to the transport wagon, Carmichael yelled over his shoulder. “Murph, Char, my place, tomorrow.”

They acknowledged with a single nod.

“I’ll give you that one.” She vied for Doobie’s guidance.

“Charley has a point,” Doobie said. “We withheld the discovery of the quarters from the media. He was here, watching us.”

“But where?” Murphy said as Carmichael and Fleming loaded the body into the paddy wagon. “We accounted for everyone at the bowling alley.”

“Sean, they were miles away when someone realized she was missing,” Charley said. “They ran through the trees behind the bowling alley towards the park. Natalie was in the grove. The quarters are proof.”

Murphy paced, each step adamant. “No, no, no.” He swished his arms back and forth shaking his head. “He came back.”

“Came back?” she said.

“Yes, he came back later. He learned she dropped the money. The kidnapper returned to retrieve the missing coins. That’s how he knew we had the quarters.”

Charley’s smile enlarged. “You’re right, you are so right.”

“Damn, Murph, maybe I can retire and you can take over.” Doobie grinned. “Wait, we had patrols everywhere.”

Murphy waved for Doobie and Charley to follow him. “The perp came from the park on the other side of the grove. Easy to slip through at night.”

“That makes sense,” Doobie said. “He was on foot.”

“Patrols watched for cars, not individuals.” She nodded. “Sean has a point. He used the tree line as cover to avoid detection.”

“Did the evidence crew check the park?” Murphy said.

“We spent two days searching the park,” Doobie said. “Found nothing. If Fleming and his crew can’t find it, it’s not there.”

“People were at the ballgame during that time. Anyone come forward?”

“No. That’s expected. No one paid attention.”

“Why didn’t she scream, yell, or anything?”

Charley stood before him, her hand on Murphy’s upper arm. “Because she knew him.”

“Charley’s right,” Doobie said. “Whoever this guy is, the girls aren’t threatened.”

“How did he lure them, convince them to go with him?” Murphy said.

“He engages, manipulates them,” she said.

“The girls aren’t acquainted with each other.”

“Yes they are.”

“How?” Murphy presented his hands. “How are they connected? Tell me?”

“They are students from the same county but don’t have a personal connection. It’s loose, but valid. They’re students.”