Terrorbyte (8 page)

“Interesting observation.”

“I get the feeling he had time prior to the arrival of the victims, time to stage his scene and plan everything. He was waiting for them.”

“Mmmm.”

“He also had enough time to position them afterwards, so he was sure no one was going to disturb him. Could have stalked them, or at least had them under surveillance for a short period.”

Caine nodded but said nothing.

“I could be way off but that's my impression.”

The hard line of Caine's mouth blurred. I recognized that as his equivalent to a wide grin. “I think you're probably on track.”

Nice to get a vote of confidence from the boss: enough of a boost for me to carry on with my observations. “Our killer has perfected his talents, he's experienced.”

“You're doing okay so far, kid.” The right corner of Caine's mouth twitched.

“Kids.” I said. “You've just reminded me, both women had kids. We're still trying to locate the children of the second victim.”

“Let's hope they're at school and safe.”

I nodded. “Did you get a report on any weapons found?”

“No. The medical examiner copied us both on his pre-autopsy findings. He found stab wounds in the back and defensive wounds on the arms of both women. It appears that both the victims died from the wounds inflicted; they bled to death. From now on, all correspondence regarding these deaths goes to you and your team.”

Bled to death. That phrase dragged out a word that all the crime shows like to throw out: exsanguination, the fatal process of total blood loss. We'd best stick to ‘bled to death.' At least we can all spell those three words. I thought some more about our killer and opted to share my thoughts out loud. “He's organized: bringing his weapon with him, displaying the bodies, the writing on the walls, limiting our trace evidence. He knows what he's doing and he's taking his time to do it.” I leaned back in the chair, then sat forward to stretch my back. “How'd he get in?”

“Tool marks were found on the locks of both victims' homes.”

“So he may have lock-picking skills too. Isn't he the talented little freak?”

Caine slid a baggie across his desk at me. “Take a look at that.”

I could see it from where I sat: a small paper evidence bag. I read down the chain of evidence documented on the front of the bag. Lee's writing was first, along with his signature, a lab stamp and signature, then Caine's. It wasn't a copy at all; it was the original evidence.

“I can see it.”

He handed me a sterilized packet containing disposable forceps and a pair of latex gloves.

“Open the bag.”

I put on the gloves, opened the bag and pulled out a piece of square blue paper with the forceps. It was the Post-it I'd heard about.

“Read it.”

My stomach flipped as I held it in the forceps and read the words aloud.

“ ‘Special Agent Conway. Gabrielle, we need more chlorine
.
' ”

I dropped the note back into the bag and resealed it.

“The chlorine reference is interesting,” Caine stated. From his desk drawer he retrieved another bag. He dropped it on the desktop.

Again, I was in no hurry to touch it.  My stomach lurched, my heart sank and memories of a not-too-distant past flew into my consciousness. I didn't want to be there again.

“Take me off the case!” Even I heard the hysterical tone that edged into my voice but I seemed unable to prevent it.

He completely ignored me.

“Two messages, Ellie.”

“I know.”

Mac reached for a pair of latex gloves as Caine held them out. He took a fresh pair of forceps and opened the new baggie. “Is this a fluke? Or did the killer know Ellie would be working this?”

Caine spoke quietly making us strain to hear him. “All he could know was there was a chance Ellie would work the cases. The nature of the crime means we would be included. This falls within our task force perimeters and we're currently split between two other major cases, in Maryland and Georgia. With only Delta A still in Virginia, we don't publicize who is in which team.”

Mac read the note aloud, “ ‘Gabrielle, cleaning takes time
.
' ”

“That seems fairly personal to me,” I muttered.

Mac lifted his eyes to meet Caine's. “Do you think he committed these heinous acts to get Ellie involved?”

Caine pressed his fingertips together. “We can't know that at this stage, Mac.”

Mac's voice hardened. “Best guess?”

“It's possible.”

“He uses her name!”

“Could be a fluke, could have easily used any of the agents' names in Delta team,” Caine replied, his voice low and calm.

I listened as Caine downplayed the little detail of the notes bearing my name. He was doing a good job. I wasn't buying and I knew he wasn't either. The Unsub could've used any of our names. He could have; we're a high profile team. But he fuc'n didn't. He used mine!

“He had me with the Post-it. The use of a Post-it note has to be a blatant attempt at reminding me of the Son of Shakespeare case. That evil son of a bitch left messages on yellow Post-its for me, and now we have messages addressed to
me
on blue Post-it notes,” I said. “You still want to sit there and tell me this isn't personal?”

Another thought crashed into the forefront of my mind. Why were we assuming this was a man? Okay, so women didn't usually kill like this. I decided to stick with the term Unsub and not label this killer male or female yet.

My body switched to autopilot and propelled me to the door. I jumped when Caine spoke, “Ellie, where are you going?”

Conscious thought took over again. I realized I was standing by the closed door with my hand on the doorknob. Freedom lay just beyond the pale-grained wood.

“I don't know, home maybe.”

Caine's phone rang. I turned to face him, finding myself transfixed as the noise disrupted the air, causing ripples to radiate from the telephone on the desk. They covered Mac, the chair I had occupied and then flowed over me. As I observed the odd phenomenon, the ripples appeared to pass through the walls and disappear.

“Ellie, you all right?”

Mac stood in front of me. I didn't know how he got there.

“What's wrong, Ellie?”

Couldn't he see the noise ripple through the air?

I didn't know what to say. Why couldn't he see them? Then it occurred to me no one could see them but me.  I had a sudden flash of this being way beyond eccentricity. Seeing sound? Madness loomed. He can't know.

Be okay.

I said, “I'm okay.”

Caine interrupted. “Good.”

I looked past Mac to see what was good. “What?”

“Good, you're all right. I can't take you off this. We got a hit back from the bulletin posted through Law Enforcement Online. I want you to go to Richmond. There was a murder forty-eight hours ago. It's similar to what we have up here now. View the crime scene. Speak to the next of kin … the victim's husband. See what you can turn up.”

The unearthly happenings in my head stopped abruptly. I refocused on the case. We had a hit. I swear one of the best inventions yet is the LEO system. Think MySpace or Facebook for police but not as pretty as MySpace and without the time-wasting applications of Facebook. Although, facial recognition software can be a real hoot.

“I take it they know I'm coming down?” Mac and I were both back in our seats, taking careful notes.

Caine nodded. “Mac, I'm going to have you assigned to us for the duration of this case.”

He could have asked – Mac may not have wanted to be in on this case. He also could've run it by me first, in private. I didn't know why I wasn't thrilled to have Mac with me on this. I should be, damn it! We worked well together. He was fun, too. I was scrutinizing Mac's face for a clue to his real feelings when he nodded in agreement with Caine's plan.

“I hate to say this, but why? We have no need yet for specialist help,” I said.

“Sam put the request in. It's easier to have Mac on board from the beginning than to drag him in and have to play catch-up later.”

“That makes sense.” If Sam thought we were going to need someone like Mac on the team, then okay. I remembered that Sam and Mac had spoken of this in the mobile command center.

I turned to Mac and asked, “You don't mind having me as your boss?”

His eyes sparkled. “I don't mind. I don't mind at all.”

“Good okay, that's settled. It'll be great, just like old times.”  A cold shiver ran up my spine as the voice in my head hissed, ‘Let's hope not.' I pulled myself together and pressed all reservations aside. My focus was the task at hand.

I remembered something else that needed looking into. “Has someone pulled the open case file for the rape a few months back, the gold ribbon one?” I struggled but for the life of me could not recall the victim's name.

“Lee mentioned it, ask him.”

I nodded. If Lee mentioned it then he was bound to have all the information.

“Time to get moving,” Mac said.

We stood and headed for the door but something made me pause. I turned back to Caine and asked, “Unless there was anything else?”

“Just one thing,” Caine said. He stood and came out from behind his desk. “On behalf of the Bureau I would like to congratulate you on the formation of The Butterfly Foundation.” He reached down to his desk and picked up an envelope, which he handed to me. “This is from the division.”

I opened the envelope expecting to see a check for fifty bucks or so. Mac peered into it as I pulled out a personal check from Executive Assistant Director Owen. Our mouths fell open at the sight of the amount. Words seemed trapped as I tried to get my head around this incredible act of generosity.

Mac found his tongue before I did. “Owen wrote this check?”

Caine's face cracked, his lip curled, teeth showed: it was shockingly close to a real smile. “Yes, Mac. She's not all bad, you know.”

“Wow.”

Wow indeed.  Hard-assed Owen had a heart. I slid the check back into the envelope. “We'll thank her later, then have the chairman do it officially.”

I took the check out again and reread the amount: fifteen thousand dollars. With that and the funds raised at the dinner, we could set up many more school programs than originally planned.

I looked at Caine. He still bore the alarmingly real smile upon his face. “I suspect you had more than a little to do with this. Thank you.”

Caine hugged me quickly then kissed my cheek. Over all the years we had worked together, Caine had once before surprised me with fatherly affection. It was unnerving, and yet not.

His scary smile faded back to a more acceptable grim facial expression. “It's a good thing you've done.”

For the first time it felt like we'd made a difference. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the paper evidence bags on Caine's desk. Suddenly making a difference wasn't enough.

Our next stop was the Butterfly Foundation offices. With a degree of relief, I realized my earlier thoughts of flipping switches were validated.

Something did need flipping; it wasn't just something I'd conjured earlier in my head.

***

The ceremonial turning on of the Foundation servers that house the entire Foundation computer system took place in front of numerous journalists, amidst flashes of blinding light from cameras. Just what I didn't need: more blinding lights.

Afterwards I took dad aside. “I need to speak with you out of the limelight.”

“My office?”

“Perfect.”

Dad linked his arm through mine and mid-smile announced to the media throng that he was having a quiet word with his daughter and would return soon for questions.

He opened the door for me. “Do we need to sit?”

I smiled. “No, Dad, I just want to give you something from the Bureau.”

I handed him the check. “But you might need to sit down before you look at the signature,” I told him. “Owen wrote it.”

He took it from my hand and read the print. “Owen the ballbuster wrote us a check?”

“Stunning, isn't it?” I said. “Best get that in the bank before she changes her mind.”

He nodded. “I'll show Bob then we'll go to the bank.”

“Good idea. By the way, I like your office.”

I hadn't been in his new office before. It was spacious, wood paneled and highly polished. My mother would've loved it. He had a large leather sofa and a small coffee table in one corner. Directly in front of the door stood his antique mahogany desk. He'd had it moved up from Richmond. On the wall behind his desk hung a family portrait, our combined family: dad, me, Aidan, Mac, Beatrice and Bob. We'd had the photograph taken at Christmas time. Notably absent were Mac's brother, Eddie, and his family. Absent because Mac forgot to invite them to the sitting. Can't say I blamed him. The other notable absence was my mother. I didn't realize I was staring at the wall until dad spoke again.

“You feel all right, Ellie?”

“Of course, Dad.” I kissed his leathery cheek. “Why wouldn't I?”

“What did the doc say today?”

So everyone knew but me. Maybe I should pay more attention to my life.

“He said I'm nuts, Dad,” I said, with much seriousness. “Nothing we didn't already know.”

“No surprise there, then,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“None at all.” I perched on the edge of his desk.

“I heard something on the news about a murder this morning; they said it was the second in two days.”

“They were right. I'm heading to Richmond today. There's a murder there that may tie in with these.”

“You got this case?”

“Yeah. I'm Supervising Special Agent on this one!”

Dad gave me a hug. “Well done.”