Eleven (Brandon Fisher FBI Series #1)

by Carolyn Arnold

  “What was Lance? Can I call you Lance?” She pulled out his first name and added an element of huskiness to her voice.

  “The pictures.” Bingham’s expression went serious and any sort of control she had gained evaporated with a figurate hiss to steam. “None of you can prove I did anything wrong.”

  “We know about the other murders in Sarasota Florida.” She paused. He didn’t blink. “We know about some of your victims right here in Salt Lick. Earl’s brother was one of them.” She stretched the truth.

  He tapped an index finger on the table.

  “Why go after Special Agent Fisher?”

  “Special Agent, la de la. Nothing special that I see there. But you do.” He leaned in, closing the distance between them. “You do, don’t you?” His mouth rapidly transformed into a wild smile.

  “Why his wife?”

  The smile disappeared. Bingham’s gaze lingered in her eyes making her uncomfortable but she refused to break the eye contact. To do so would demonstrate a weakness and give Bingham the upper hand. She needed to maintain control. “Who is this person? Who is your follower?”

  “You told me already that Earl must have been.”

  Paige smirked. He bit. “How many did he help you with?”

  Bingham guided her eyes to the table and the photograph of Brandon’s wife. “She’s beautiful.” Seconds of delay followed those two words. “That must bother you.”

  Jack pressed the brakes hard enough the SUV lunged forward. He put it into park, and I jumped out and headed up the porch steps. Police cruisers were already at the house including the two officers we had met earlier.

  “I didn’t think you big shots needed us,” Spalding said as he pulled up on his pants and adjusted his holster.

  “We need you to block the street. No one in. No one out.” I heard Jack’s firm words. “Now.”

  “Yes, boss.” Spalding’s words were followed by a chuckle, but he complied with Jack’s directions.

  “The only way he could have got that picture is from inside the house.” I turned the handle and turned to Jack. “It’s unlocked.” Deb’s car was in the driveway. But if she was there wouldn’t she be outside wondering what was going on with the police cruisers? And why wasn’t she answering her phone?

  I cracked open the door, gun readied as was Jack’s. I heard more sirens from the local PD coming closer.

  “Take it slow,” Jack cautioned.

  “Deb.” I called into the house and looked through to the kitchen as I wound along the wall, vigilant in case the unsub was here. “We shouldn’t have left her alone.” I spoke at a whisper. “I can’t believe the unsub knows about Deb’s sister.” Not only did I worry about Deb’s safety but also her sister and her family’s. I continued down the hallway, placing foot over foot, back to the wall, gun ready.

  “One thing at a time.”

  “Deb.” I called out louder than the first time.

  I heard banging upstairs. I pointed upward. “There. Did you hear that? Deb?” More shuffling of feet, and a slam of a dresser drawer.

  “You go first. I’ll stay behind and watch your back.”

  Adrenaline forced my steps forward, suppressing my fear beneath layers of bravado. I approached the base of the stairs cautiously, straining to hear anything. Nothing but silence seeped over the upper landing like a thickly laid fog. I faced upward and raised my gun to match. There was no one there, no shadows casting against the exterior wall of the staircase.

  I took each stair slowly, careful not to agitate the old wood of the home, but it didn’t matter. Even the lightest placed step caused it to moan. I turned around to Jack who directed me to face forward with a tightened jaw and a scowl.

  Keep alert, keep vigilant, take in your surroundings, and keep your eyes ahead.

  I recited what I had been taught hoping the words would drown my guilt over pulling Debbie into this. If anything happened to her there wouldn’t be a purpose in living.

  I focused on the upstairs landing. A shadow darkened the doorway of our bedroom, casting its length into the stairwell. I picked up speed. Jack closed the distance between us.

  In the hallway my heart sped up causing my breath to deepen and it threatened to expose my position.

  Jack motioned that he would be going to the right of the doorway, and I was to take the left. He sprung in front of the opening and matched eyes with me. His eyes said it all, someone was in there.

  I nodded to Jack and took the lead inside the room. My gun readied, I would have no hesitation to take the shot. “Put your hands up! Now!”

  The yell that pierced my ears would likely cause them to ring for hours.

  “What the…” Debbie’s one hand went to her chest while the other ripped out the earbuds. “You scared the shit out of me.” She glared at both of us before settling her eyes on my weapon. “You’re holding a gun on me.”

  It wasn’t until her words made it through that I realized it was still pointed at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “What am I?” Her face scrunched up and she let out a snuff of air from her nose. “I’m getting ready to go.”

  “You need to come with me. Now.” I put my gun back in its holster.

  “Brandon, you’re acting strange.”

  “I just need you to trust me.”

  “I am trying to. You told me to go back to Karen’s. That’s what I’m trying to do here.”

  I noticed the opened suitcase on the bed. Some clothes were already inside. I didn’t look forward to what I had to say next. “You can’t go to your sister’s now.”

  “Brandon.” Two hands went to her hips.

  “Come with me.” I put an arm around her and guided her out of the room.

  She spun around and pointed at Jack. “What’s he doing?”

  He was standing on our bed, his hands gloved, poking around the light fixture on the ceiling.

  “We’ll talk outside.”

  “Brandon.”

  I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Just trust me.”

  “Fine.”

  I moved her out to the backyard and for a moment took in the irony of the weather and nature. The sky was cloudless, birds were chirping, and lawn mowers purred in the neighborhood. Another beautiful Virginia morning, and yet here we were dealing with an unsub bent on destroying all that was and distorting it to a twisted view of righteousness.

  We stood on the back deck facing each other. Debbie’s arms were crossed. “You better tell me what’s going on.”

  “The case we’re working on—”

  Her head cocked to the side, and I could read the reflection in her eyes, you put us in danger.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Say it Brandon. I’m in danger?” The arms tightened. One long strand of brown hair fell from the clip that held the rest. I reached out for it, peered in her eyes, and nodded.

  “I can’t believe this. It’s a job, Brandon.” She shifted to the right, moving just out of reach.

  “It’s not just a job.”

  Her eyes matched mine. “What else is it?”

  The direct question rendered me silent for a few seconds.

  “Like I thought. For a job you put our lives in danger. Great. Just great!”

  Every time she said the word job, it came out with such disdain that it angered a portion of my soul. “The FBI swear to protect—”

  “Save the brochure for new recruits.” She said the words, but after she did her eyes snapped to mine. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “No, I think you did. But I get it. You weren’t really into this career choice from the start.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just, it’s dangerous.”

  “Damn right it’s dangerous!” I averted my eyes from her. My earlobes heated with anger.

  “Brandon.”

  I watched a squirrel run across the yard and up one of the large oaks.

  “Brandon.”

  “What?”

  She placed
a hand on my arm. “Where do you need me to go?”

  Paige’s eyes were fastened to the photo of Brandon’s wife. Bingham was right. The woman was beautiful and it would be a lie to say it didn’t bother her on some level. But she was jealous of the woman for more than her looks. She got to spend her life with Brandon. “Why would it bother me?”

  “You love him.”

  “Special Agent Fisher is a colleague of mine, a member of the—”

  “Then you love him.” Bingham’s lips curled upward. The smile chilled Paige.

  “Who is helping you on the outside?”

  “Round and round you go.” A small laugh.

  “Earl Royster is dead.” She dropped the fact, callously with unwavering eye contact.

  Bingham tapped a finger on the table. Paige counted as each one rapped off. Eleven total. A smirk still on his lips, he said, “I suppose that creates a problem for you?”

  I took the SUV leaving Jack at the house searching for cameras and audio recorders. Nadia volunteered her place and it was deemed a safe house for the time being. We picked up her key on the way.

  She lived in a condo building in Logan. When she told me the address it had me wondering how much money she had. Logan was an historical district in Washington, and condos there would have ranged up from half a million.

  “It’s only going to be temporary until we find the guy.” I parked the car, and Deb looked through the window at the building.

  “How does she afford this place?”

  “Good question.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine here. For a little while.” She straightened up and undid her seat belt.

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do this unless it was for your safety.”

  “I know.”

  She got out, and I followed her to the back of the SUV. She opened the back door and went to haul out the suitcase and the one bulging overnight bag. I came in between and took them from her.

  “I want you to stay in contact. I call, you answer.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “If the same applies for you. How do I know this psycho won’t come after you? You’ve got their attention obviously.”

  “You let me worry about me okay?” I walked toward the building. She didn’t need to read my face or she’d witness the truth. As much as I wanted to think positively uncertainty hindered the vision.

  Her sandals flapped as she walked along the sidewalk behind me. “Not fair.”

  “Don’t start Deb. It’s for a few days until we catch this guy.”

  “How do you know you will?”

  “That’s what we do. We catch the bad guys.”

  A hand reached out to my shoulder, causing me to turn to face her. “And what’s your track record?”

  I hated it when she did this. She had a way of tapping into my perfectionist nature. She knew I was technical and critical. “It’s about to have an arrest on it.”

  “Uh huh.” She brushed ahead of me and flung open the front door. “And how am I supposed to explain this to my work?” She held the door, and her eyes fixed on mine.

  We had discussed how imperative it was for her to stay away from anywhere or anyone familiar. She wasn’t to leave Nadia’s condo and that included going to her job. Even to me those restrictions equated capture.

  “I’m going to go nuts inside four walls for days.”

  “You could be in a place with six.”

  Her expression went sour. She got my implication—a coffin. “You think they’d kill—”

  Her words dried on her lips as we stepped into the lobby.

  “She lives in a hotel.”

  High ceilings held recessed lighting that cast almost an enchanting glow over the area. A few seating areas were laid out, and minimalistic artwork was displayed on the walls. The combined textures of the wood flooring and color of the walls welcomed one with the warmth of a sun-kissed beach.

  “May I help you?” A concierge called out from behind the front desk. His eyes read, and who are you?

  “I believe Nadia Webber called ahead.”

  “Oh yes, most certainly. Mister Bond, is it?” His eyes passed judgment and skepticism the same way mine did when Nadia told me the cover name she assigned. She said it would be fun.

  “Yes, it is.”

  He kept watching me but didn’t say anything. I could only imagine what was going through his mind.

  “The elevators?”

  “Right there Mister Bond.” He passed a glance to Deb. “Enjoy your stay.”

  I put an arm through Deb’s. “Let’s go.”

  She leaned into me and whispered, “Mister Bond?”

  “Long story.”

  “Uh huh.”

  As we waited for the elevator, Deb swayed forward and bumped the purse she held dangling in front of her against her knees.

  “You have to take this seriously. And yes they could kill you.” I picked up where her last sentence had left off. I didn’t want to underestimate the potential threat.

  Her eyes latched with mine and she stopped swaying the purse. “Alright, then. Guess I’m jail bound.”

  “Don’t say it like that—” Her soft laugh stopped my words there.

  She smiled. “Not really much of a prison here.” She glanced around. “I kind of wanted some time off work anyhow. More time to write.”

  “Brat.” Debbie had worked on one book over the last three years.

  “What, now you’re jealous?”

  “Maybe. A little.” I wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her close to me. As her head bent to rest on my shoulder, I brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead.

  The motion transported me back to Quinton and the words Royster would say after cutting him, Ssh baby, don’t cry. The other unsub was still out there.

  I needed to find the son of a bitch.

  CHAPTER 25

  I hated leaving Deb in the condo alone even though she’d be safe there. The unsub didn’t know anything about Nadia’s existence, and if they had attempted to follow us, I had made more than the necessary turns to weed out any suspicious vehicles.

  Back at the house Jack and a few CSIs were combing the ceilings, through pieces of furniture and the bookshelves. We had a collection of Agatha Christie books on the one and I hurried over to the guy. “Please be careful.”

  He looked at me as if to say, it’s not my first day on the job. The man was old enough to be my father.

  “Where’s Special Agent Harper?”

  A rubber-gloved finger pointed to the ceiling.

  I bounded up the staircase two steps at a time. Jack was in the bedroom, a haze of smoke around him. I waved a hand in front of my face. “Put that thing out.”

  He went over to one of the windows, lifted the old pane and flicked the butt outside. “You should really put in a screen.”

  A small device was on the quilt. “What did you find?”

  “That is a camera.”

  I picked up the bag and examined the contents. It was small enough to fit on the flat part of my thumb. “This.”

  “That.”

  “What about audio?” The unsub needed to have some sort of ears on the place to know about Deb’s sister Karen. I ran a hand along the base of my neck and paused to rub it for a few seconds. “We need to get someone on them too.”

  “Already handled. Called in Chantilly PD.”

  “So obviously this creep was in my home, in my bedroom, defiled Deb’s privacy.”

  “Obviously.”

  “You’re going to be like that now. At a time like this?”

  “You really need to harness your emotions Kid, or they’re going to kill ya.”

  “When? How?” My thoughts were on the unsub.

  “Questions that need answers.”

  “Okay, one thing at a time.” I drew a deep breath, and looked to the bagged evidence in my hand. The unsub had held this and had put it in place. “When would he have come here? How could he have known?”

  “Obviously,” Jac
k mocked my use of the word. “Bingham is still in contact with him. We know it’s not Twitter. By the way, Nadia called and she’s almost finished getting the backgrounds on all the Twitter followers. She also has the evidence files from Sarasota.”

  I nodded. My mind dwelled more on the home invasion than the cold cases. “The unsub must have a means of affording transportation.”

  “And their communication is current. It was only three days ago that we found the bodies.” Jack patted his shirt pocket for another cigarette.

  “Don’t even think about it. As it is Deb’s gonna kill me when she gets home.” I waved a hand in front of my nose. “We’ll need to get that smell out.”

  He smiled and pulled his hand back. “If your windows had screens we could leave them open.”

  Jack’s cell phone rang, saving him from my two hands that wanted to encase his throat. At least I had only imagined it and hadn’t acted on the growing compulsion to act. See Jack, I have control.

  “Harper here…I’m putting you on speaker.” He pushed a button on his cell to increase the volume. “It’s just me, and the kid.”

  “Hey Brandon.”

  “Paige?”

  Jack looked at me. “I believe you two know each other.”

  Another opportunity to display self-control when I wanted to say, I believe you know each other too.

  “There’s no way we’re getting anything from the guy. He…” Paige paused, letting out a groan. “He talks in circles. And he doesn’t just answer questions with questions, he’s even better than that. There’s no way he’s going to tell us how he communicates with the unsub.”

  “Can’t say it surprises me,” Jack said.

  There were a few seconds of silence in which I was certain Paige wondered why he had sent her to speak with Bingham if that were the case.

  “The other church members didn’t have anything for us. What do you want us to do now?”

  “Drive back to Louisville tonight and get back here for first thing in the morning. Nadia’s got a bunch of evidence for us to work through. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jack ended the call, and a CSI yelled up the stairs. “We found it.”