Punish the Deed (16 page)

To the left of the body, on a bale of straw, Agnew’s suit jacket was neatly draped, his tie stretched across it. A yellow folded clump of paper protruded from a pocket.

Was it a repeat of the message on the ground? Or was it something more?
Lucinda wondered. “I want to look at that paper,” Lucinda said, pointing toward the jacket.

“Me too. The forensic team will be here as soon as they can. They were called right after we were. Once they photograph it in place, we’ll snatch it up.”

Jake slumped over. He sighed as his shoulders heaved up then down.

“Jake?” Lucinda asked.

He shook his head.

She reached a hand toward him, hesitated, pulled back, then reached out her arm again, resting her palm on his shoulder. “Jake, you didn’t really think you’d find him alive, did you?”

“No, not really,” he said, raising his head. “But I had hoped. I had hoped with all my heart.”

Their faces were inches away. Lucinda stifled a gasp as a rush of sympathy combined with desire flushed through her face. He looked at her with longing. Then they both backed away and hung their heads.

“We always hope, Jake. That’s all that keeps us going,” Lucinda said. She wondered if he caught the double meaning behind her words.

Twenty-Nine

After a couple of hours of going in and out of the barn in the pouring rain as they released the dog search team, greeted the arriving forensic techs and consulted with the coroner and his staff, Jake and Lucinda were bedraggled and dripping. Lucinda stood in the corner of the barn waiting for the go-ahead to extract the note from the victim’s jacket pocket.

Jake entered the barn carrying a couple of clean towels he’d managed to sweet-talk from a tech. He threw one over her head and they worked on getting dry enough that they didn’t damage the note when they retrieved it.

They both donned latex gloves and approached the jacket. Lucinda eased the clump of paper out of the pocket and unfolded it with the tips of her fingers, trying to touch as little of the surface as possible. There were three sheets of yellow, lined paper torn from a legal pad. Jake held plastic sheet protectors open as she slid each individual page into a separate one. Once protected from moisture, they could read it without causing any further damage or contamination.

The missive was printed in block lettering that was a little smaller but otherwise looked identical to what they’d seen in the other crime scene notes. Halfway through the diatribe, though, the emotional state of the writer became clear as he applied the pen with increasing force, causing rips and gouges in the paper.

YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE. I WAS LEFT BEHIND AND NOW YOU PAY. GOODIE GOODIE TWO SHOES TURN BLIND EYES. SEE ME BUT DON’T SEE ME.

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND? ALL THEM GOODIE TWO SHOES ARE HYPOCRITES. THEY LOOKED AT ME. THEY LOOKED THROUGH ME.

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND? HA! THEY LEFT ME BEHIND.

WHERE WAS THEM GOODIE TWO SHOES WHEN I WAS BEING USED?

I WAS LEFT BEHIND.

WHERE WAS THEY WHEN I WAS HUNGRY?

I WAS LEFT BEHIND.

WHERE WAS THEM GOODIE TWO SHOES WHEN I DIDN’T LEARN TO READ OR WRITE?

I WAS LEFT BEHIND.

WHERE WAS THEY THEN?

NOW I AM NOT BEHIND. I AM HERE. IN FRONT. IN THEIR FACE.

AND THE HYPOCRITES DIE. THE GOODIE TWO SHOES LOSE THEIR SOLES. (HA! HA!)

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND?

I WAS LEFT BEHIND.

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND?

I WAS LEFT TO DIE.

NO CHILD LET BEHIND?

I AM DEAD. THE WALKING DEAD.

NOW THEY ARE DEAD, TOO.

I LEFT THEM BEHIND.

THEY CANNOT WALK NOW.

THEM TWO SHOES DON’T DO THEM NO DAMN GOOD.

THE LEFT BEHIND WILL INHERIT THE EARTH.

SIGNED,

ONE OF THEM WHO WAS LEFT BEHIND.

P.S. WATCH OUT GOODIE TWO SHOES. NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED.

The investigators stared at each other, initially too stunned to speak. “He is very angry,” Jake said.

“And he might not have much formal education but he has a sharp mind. He played with words and wanted to make sure we knew it. He’s laughing at us.”

“Do you see any indication of where he’ll strike next?”

“I don’t see it but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. You need to have a press conference. Let the public know what’s going on here.”

“Lucinda, I’ll be damned if I really know what’s going on here.”

“Sure, you do, Jake. You know we have a perpetrator targeting heads of non-profit organizations. Those people who are potential victims need to be warned so that they can protect themselves.”

“You’ll just create hysteria.”

“No, we’ll create caution. Sure some people will over-react. But for the vast majority knowledge of an existing danger can lead to saved lives.”

“No. Informing the public will bring the loonies out of the woodwork.”

“Sure it will. But it will also bring out responsible citizens. Those who need to protect themselves and those who want to help us nail this guy.”

Jake threw up both his hands. “Hey, I’m not going to argue with you. It’s simply out of the question.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I forgot. I was thinking we were partners. I forgot for a moment that you are the mighty FBI. The keeper of the flame. The holy grail of law enforcement. We silly locals only communicate with the public because we are too stupid and incompetent to find the bad guys without their help. But you – you are miracle workers. So, tell me, oh great one. Where do we go to arrest our little psychopath before he kills again?”

“Man, you’ve got one hell of a pissy attitude.”

“Oh, so this is a surprise? I thought you researched me well before calling my captain. I thought ‘pissy attitude’ was stamped on every page of my record. Did you slip up, oh mighty investigator?”

Jake threw his arms up in the air. “I can’t talk to you while you’re in this frame of mind.” He turned and walked away.

“Well, I sure hope you can find a ride back to your office ’cause I am leaving here and heading back to Greensboro, right now,” Lucinda shouted after him. But she didn’t move. She looked over at the techs who were staring at her. They quickly turned away. Lucinda sighed and plodded in Jake’s direction.

Damn me and my pissy attitude. Michael Agnew matters. Shari Fleming matters. And you, Lieutenant Lucinda Pierce, you have lost track of your priorities.

“Jake, Jake!” she shouted after his retreating back.

Jake just kept walking away as if he didn’t hear, oblivious to the pesky light drizzle that continued to fall in the aftermath of the downpour.

“Jake, where are you going?” Lucinda asked and waited for a response. When none was forthcoming she hollered, “Jake, Michael Agnew still needs you.”

Jake stopped but didn’t turn around to face her. Lucinda splashed through puddles, catching up with him and stepping in front of him. Jake kept his eyes focused on the dirty muck that nearly obscured the bright yellow color of the Chucks he’d pulled on that morning.

“Jake, I’ll give you a ride back to town. I’m not heading back home this afternoon. That was just bullshit.”

“Hey. No problem. I can catch a ride with the techs.”

“I know you can but I’m offering you a ride with me. I’m retracting my stupid threat. Damn it, Jake, I’m apologizing for being an ass and saying stupid crap I didn’t mean.”

“Really?” he said, looking up at her at last. “And just like that, you expect me to believe you didn’t mean one insulting word.”

“No, Jake, I’m not going to lie to you. I think your agency sucks. I think your agents – present company excluded – are arrogant pricks.”

“Pricks? You know, we do have female agents these days.”

“Yes, Jake, but you and I both know that biological equipment is not required for someone to act like a prick.”

Jake grinned. “Oh, that is certainly correct, Lieutenant Pierce.”

“Yeah, yeah, I asked for that,” she said, giving him a playful shove. “Don’t you smirk at me when you say that, Special Agent Lovett.”

“How come ‘Special Agent’ sounds like a four-letter word when it passes through your lips?” Jake asked.

“You started it with that Lieutenant crap. How come we are still standing in the rain?”

“Shall we retire to the porch?”

“But, of course,” she said as they walked across the yard and took shelter under the overhang. “Now, about our problem . . .” Lucinda began.

“What problem?”

“The press conference.”

“Do we have to go there again?”

“Yes. But listen, Jake, I have a compromise.”

“What? I shut up and do what you say?”

“Wonderful suggestion. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Sarcasm noted,” Jake said with a sigh. “Go ahead and explain.”

“Okay, we have a basic conflict. I think we should go to the media and lay out the whole problem, complete with our suspicion of serial murders against people who work for non-profits. You want to stonewall the press and not give them an inkling of the problem until we make an arrest. Do you agree with that?”

“Essentially, for the time being, yes,” Jake acknowledged.

“Okay, let’s mix your theory into this situation. You think that the perp has a base of operations in or near my jurisdiction.”

“Well, base of operations is a bit too fancy for what I had in mind,” Jake objected. “I’m thinking more like that’s where he goes home to roost, lick his wounds, or whatever hokey phrase you want to use.”

Lucinda shrugged. “Let’s say you send out a press release with a profile of the person we want to identify in the Shari Fleming homicide. Throw in the suspect’s interest in ‘No Child Left Behind.’ That might make someone remember something our unknown suspect said. Drop in Steve Broderick as a second person of interest and that would get maximum media coverage in my area. So if Broderick is still in town or a nameless perp is operating there, maybe someone will call.”

Jake closed his eyes, lowered his head and placed a hand on his chin. In a moment, he was nodding. He looked up at Lucinda and said, “That would work. But the release needs to be issued by the field office down there, not from my office in D.C.”

“Can you make that happen?” Lucinda asked.

“Should be able to if I go down there.”

“Now?”

“I really want to stick around for Agnew’s autopsy in the morning. Then I’ll go down. You want to ride together?”

“My car?”

“Yes, your boring car,” Jake said with a sigh. “It would take a lot of gas for mine to drive down there. The mileage expense I get for travel hardly covers the cost anymore.”

“Great, I’ll check out of the hotel first thing tomorrow and meet you at the morgue.”

“What are your plans for tonight?” Jake asked.

“All I want to do is peel off these wet clothes, soak in a hot tub, slide in between clean sheets and sleep until dawn.”

“Any room in your plans for dinner?” Jake asked.

“I might order something up from room service. Then again, I might just be too tired to bother.”

“Actually, I was asking you out to dinner.”

Nip this in the bud, girl. Bad idea in the middle of an investigation
, she thought, but to Jake she said, “Oh, gee, thanks, but by the time I get dry and warm again, I’m not going to want to get dressed to go anywhere. But I will take a rain check. Okay?”

Jake stuck his hand out past the eaves of the porch. “It’s still raining.”