Hour of Reckoning (Donatella Book 2)
Page 8
“Lucie will be able to schedule your next appointment,” the devastation traveled through her voice.
Before she realized it, Jasmyn was speaking, “I'm so sorry to hear about what happened to Samantha. It is absolutely terrible.”
“Thank you. She was a loved and valued member of our staff. Everyone is taking her death with sadness and disbelief. We all plan to attend her funeral to pay our final respects.”
Turning the corner Dr. Prince noticed Joy sitting at the receptionist desk.
“Where is the new girl, Lucie?”
“She stepped away for lunch and is running a few minutes late returning. She gave me a call to let me know she was running five minutes behind.”
Dr. Prince sighed with disapproval, “Good help is impossible to find. That is one thing I never had to worry about with Samantha, she was never late, and always put our patients first. I guess I shouldn't be too hard on the girl. She walked into a tough situation on such short notice. I should be grateful that we were able to find someone with only one call last night. Joy can you –”
Lucie came walking through the door in a rush, “I'm so sorry Dr. Prince. I was held up in traffic while making my way back.”
She quickly removed her coat, tossing it on the back of her chair that was vacated by Joy once she entered the room.
“Please schedule a three-week follow-up appointment for Mrs. Thompson.”
“Yes, Dr. Prince. I'll take care of it.”
Dr. Prince shook hands with the couple and headed back to attend to her next patient, Mrs. Evans.
December 11th – 3:30 p.m.
Detective Carl Sampson rode the elevator to the fifth floor of the Global Insights Security building. According to Vanessa, his trusty dispatch operator, there had been a mass murder of the top executives and members of the Global Insights board. Vanessa received a frantic call from Sasha Wright, the executive admin for Edward Stein.
Sampson was eager to speak with this witness as she was the first person on the scene of the crime and thus could give the best account of how everything looked when she arrived. It was key that he obtain as much information from her while it was still fresh in her mind as she may have seen things that would be crucial to the investigation.
Upon reaching the fifth floor, he could see that the office had been cleared of all working personnel, except that of Sasha Wright. He saw a female officer sitting with Mrs. Wright as the two carried on in conversation. Walking toward her desk he mused how deadly quiet such a large room was in the middle of the day.
“I’ll take it from here Officer Lewis,” Sampson stated as he approached the two women.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Wright. My name is Detective Sampson with the Charlotte Metro Police Department. First, let me say I’m sorry for your loss and sorry that you were the one who had to find your boss and the rest of his team.”
“Thank you,” she responded demurely.
“I know this will be difficult to do, but it would go a long way in helping me find the people responsible for the deaths in the board room today if you could answer a few questions. Are you up to answering a few questions for me?”
She nodded her head in affirmation.
“It’s my understanding that you were the first one to find the bodies in the board room. Is that correct?”
Again, she nodded her head.
“While you were upstairs, did you touch anything or did you see anything that was out of place, that didn’t belong?”
In a firm, yet hollow voice she responded, “No I didn’t touch anything or see anything that didn’t belong. I honestly cannot recall if there was anything out of place. Once I realized what I was looking at, I stumbled my way back to the elevator, came down to my office and phoned the police.”
“That’s good, Mrs. Wright. You did right by not touching anything and giving us a call immediately. Do you mind walking me through the events that led up to you calling the station?”
She tentatively started the tale, her eyes reddening as she spoke.
“Mr. Stein had not returned from the board meeting that started at noon. The meeting was expected to last roughly two hours. He had a subsequent meeting at 2:30 with Thomas Butterton, CEO of Atoms Hardware. They specialize in the manufacturing of miniature data storage. At 2:25 I called Mr. Stein’s cellphone but I did not receive an answer. It was unlike him to be late for any meeting, so I tried him again five minutes later. Receiving no answer for the second time, I stuck my head into the conference room to advise Mr. Butterton that Mr. Stein was running late. I asked him if he needed anything to drink – he declined, and so I went back to my desk.”
“I grew increasingly concerned and decided I would take the elevator up to the board room. The ride seemed to take longer than it normally did. I don’t know if it was my anxiousness to ensure he didn’t miss his meeting or if it was my subconscious telling me danger was ahead.”
“When the elevator door swung open, I could sense the room was still occupied, but it wasn’t until I drew closer that I realized the horror that lay in front of me. Half of the occupants were strewn across the board room floor. The other half seemed to be frozen in place in their chairs, unwilling or unable to move. I could tell from where I stood that none of them were breathing. I screamed at the top of my lungs, paralyzed in place for a minute, maybe more. When my conscious brain took over, I screamed again.”
“Witnessing the grotesque features that spread across their faces made my stomach turn countless times until I felt I would vomit.”
Throughout the retelling of her story, Sampson didn’t utter a word, simply listened to everything she had to say.
“At that moment, I decided I needed to make my way down to my office to call for help and that’s exactly what I did.”
The emotion that had built behind her vacant eyes finally gave way as a stream of tears bubbled over the edges and flowed down her cheeks. Sampson, a man who grew up in the inner city, was accustomed to violence but on this day he too lamented that this was too much violence. Mrs. Wright whisked away the tears with a well-worn, folded tissue.
“Thank you for your time during this unforgivable ordeal. Officer Lewis will see to it that you are accompanied home if you are not up to driving.”
Behind the silent sob, Sasha gave her acknowledgement. Detective Sampson stood from his seat, walked back to the elevator and ascended to the top floor. When the doors opened Sampson was surprised to see Special Agent Donatella Dabria standing patiently just beyond the elevator entrance with her hands steepled in front of her – eyes closed.
“Detective Sampson,” she said in her honeyed voice, eyes still closed. “I’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
“How is it that you already know about this crime and furthermore, how did you gain access to the crime scene?”
Opening her eyes and walking toward the board room, “Detective Sampson, I have not entered the crime scene. I’ve patiently waited on the periphery for your timely arrival. The crime scene is behind those two doors.” She pointed her finger toward the board room as Sampson took a few hurried long strides to catch up. “I have every reason to believe Terri Buckley is behind this heinous act.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“As we investigate the scene, I’m sure it will become obvious.”
Reaching the exterior of the board room, two men in hazmat suits greeted Agent Dabria and Detective Sampson. “Before you can gain entry into this room, we suggest you put these on,” the man said handing them each a full hazmat suit.
Donatella raised an eyebrow at this request and gave the man a quizzical look.
“It seems all harmful agents have been expelled from the room; however, I would feel better if you, at minimum, placed the mask on.”
Donatella took the proffered garments and began pulling the suit over her attire while Sampson did the same. Once they were fully dressed, Agent Dabria motioned toward the door with her arm extended to Sampson, “After you.”
The body of one man and one woman fell across the threshold of the door once it was swung outward. The man’s eyes were bulging and pupils floating in the inner corner of his eyes. His lips were twisted as if he had been assaulted with a baseball bat and his head turned to the right well beyond 90 degrees.
The woman, dried blood streaks that leaked from her ears and her nose, had one eye open and one eye closed. The eye that was visible had gone completely red, no pupil in sight, as if the blood had floated around in her cranium until her heart quit pumping.
Surveying the room didn’t yield any better results. Each member of the board, and each member of the senior management team had undergone a fate more cruel than imagination could offer. At the edge of the table, closest to the door, sat a single canister – waiting to be addressed.
Sampson began to speak, “Do you think –”
“Yes, I do. I suggest we handle this with care.”
They appraisingly stared at the canister before approaching it. The thought coursing through the room, Is there another surprise waiting?
The canister, solid black, roughly the size of your everyday pressurized container of shaving cream, sat ominously staring at them. It contained no marking from what she could see and it was clear that this did not belong in the boardroom. Donatella picked up the canister – seemed empty. Realizing upon closer inspection that the canister didn’t have any marking on the outside, she flipped it over to look at the bottom. There, engraved on the concaved metal surface at the bottom, lay a sign. Donatella turned the container so that Detective Sampson could fully see the image that was on the bottom. The image that would help to convince him. The image of The Thinker.
No words passed from his constricting vocal cords through his parting lips. The changes in his expression said all it needed to say. Donatella motioned for the two of them to step outside the room.
Once outside, he tried to break the silence but words still seemed unable to escape him. Throughout his career, the most terrible scene he had worked was a gang turf war shooting where he witnessed kids as young as 14 years old cut in half by assault rifles. However, this – this was much worse.
Agent Dabria, sensing his consternation spoke, “Sampson, we are dealing with a sick individual. One that will continue her murderous ways until she is caught. She obviously has an endgame in mind, and to stop her, we need to determine where she is leading us.”
“But what on earth is her motive?”
Donatella sighed, “Her employer, The Syndicate, is likely behind the initial course of her actions. Terri has been given an assignment, and how she chooses to execute her assignment is totally up to her. The sensational way in which she is executing this plan is to taunt me.”
A troubled look of confusion lay over Sampson’s brows.
“Buckley was my partner with the FBI for a period of time. Our careers in the Bureau took a proportionally inversed path. While my status began to soar, her status began to nosedive. What became of her career she firmly places on my shoulders, never willing to take accountability for the actions that landed her where she is.”
“Our partnership dissolved as a result of her actions on the Smithville case a few years ago. What she did, what she was planning to do, I could not and would not condone. I went to our superior and advised him that she could not be trusted, and in reality, she should have been fired. I told him I would not work with her as my partner any longer. The decision was then made that I would work solo from that day forward.”
“Terri saw this as another slight toward her and the beginning of the end of her career. She orchestrated events a few months ago to end my life and the lives of those I care about. I was able to beat her at her own sadistic game. The last time I saw her, I thought she had died. It wasn’t until days later when her body had not been found that I knew she survived.”
“While I’m sure The Syndicate has a reason for some of the actions she has taken, the over-the-top killing is meant for me. She is baiting me into a showdown. One I have not yet figured out, but one she clearly feels will give her the upper hand.”
“So, you see detective, there are two cases that need to be solved.”
“Two?” Sampson asked.
“The first, what is The Syndicate after? Buckley hasn’t gone rogue. There is something here, in this building, that they wanted and I’m sure before the people in that room died, Terri Buckley obtained that item.”
“Second, what dark trap is she laying for me? Terri is skilled enough to execute any plan without the theatrics. She wants me to know it’s her and that she is coming for me.”
“Speaking of which, how is it that you continue to know about these killing before any information is shared with the public?”
Donatella ignored the question and continued, “Whatever the endgame, if we don’t begin to make progress, the body count will continue to rise.”
Detective Sampson took a moment to absorb what he heard and knew that the Special Agent was correct. From everything he had learned about this killer, she was relentless, calculated, and she was only getting started.
“Special Agent Dabria, I don’t like what she is doing in my city, and I feel with this latest episode, the balance of power is shifting from the CMPD over to the FBI. If that is the case, I would like to stay on and assist as much as I can. I want to see this woman go down for the damage she has caused.”
“Detective, I appreciate the offer, but I work best alone.”
“Bullshit! Sure, you have been successful up to this point but if Terri Buckley is as formidable as you say she is, you need someone that can watch your back.”
“Detective, you need to understand, Terri Buckley does not play fair and in her mind, everyone is fair game. I do not need to worry about anyone else getting hurt in the process.”
“Damn it, Agent Dabria! Part of my job is danger.”
“Not like this. You haven’t dealt with someone as singularly focused on my destruction. She will stop at nothing to see me go down. She will go through anyone to see me go down.” Agent Dabria thought back to the moment her goddaughter had been secured to a chair with C4 affixed to the bottom waiting to blow her, the building, and Donatella off the face of the earth.
“Again, you are making my point for me, if she is that dangerous, you will need help. You will need assistance. You cannot go at this alone.”
“I have all the assistance I need Detective. I –”
“With or without you, I’m going to continue my investigation. So, either we work together, or we work separately, but I’m not giving up on this case.”
SA Dabria knew that Sampson would not give in. “Fine. But I need you to understand, tracking Terri Buckley is not akin to tracking a normal suspect. She is a master of hiding in plain sight.”
Smithville – 4 years prior
The nondescript FBI sedan stalked around I-485 in the early afternoon on this sunny day. After being alerted to the location of a wanted felon, Aaron Smithville, Agents Buckley and Dabria obtained the gear needed to apprehend their suspect. While Buckley drove, Donatella continued to review the file. There was something about this suspect that was not settling well with her. She hoped reviewing the file would provide the clarity she needed; however, the feeling still lingered and grew stronger.
“How do you want to approach Smithville?” Donatella inquired pulling her eyes from the page.
“I think we need to be prepared to encounter a contingent of hostile actors. For our Rules of Engagement, ROE, I suggest we prepare to go lethal.”
“Seems a little extreme considering we haven't obtained a lay of the land.”
“Well Ms. Donatella since you seem to have everything figured out as always, what do you suggest?”
She ignored the latest yet constant jab from Buckley, “I suggest we observe th
e residence before we try to engage the suspect. It's in a residential neighborhood and we don't need any collateral damage.”
Buckley rolled her eyes, something Donatella felt more than she saw, “He cannot slip through our fingers, not again.”
“What do you mean again?”
"Never mind that. If you think the best course of action is to watch the building before we proceed, then that's what we will do.”
Donatella could sense some unrest stirring within her partner, and it was making her feel uneasy. The two rode the next few miles in silence with different thoughts pulsating through their minds.
Although Buckley agreed to her partner's plan, she had no intention of keeping that word. She needed to find an opportune time to make her way into the building, with or without her partner. The more she thought about it, the more she believed going without her partner was the better option. But she would need an alibi after what transpired in the Alexander case. She would make the determination when the time was right on how she would proceed.
Dabria spent the time looking at the file again. She had been with the Bureau for a few years, but she did not recall hearing about Aaron Smithville. Indeed, there were other criminals who had a jacket similar to Smithville and she certainly did not know them all. However, there was something about this one that continued to stick out in an oddly familiar way.
After a few moments of reviewing the file, Donatella realized she was now absentmindedly flipping the pages. Her thoughts had gone elsewhere, again, she thought. Her subconscious told her she would need to watch Terri, and by the end of this day, her subconscious would prove to be correct.
December 11th – 5:30 p.m.
Donatella pulled her black Audi R8 Coupe, fully loaded with black rims, smoked grey window tint and red calibers, into her three-car garage. The four Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 R tires came to rest at their familiar spot in the dimly lit space. Countless thoughts raced through her mind as she made her way through the garage. Fifteen more people dead at the hands of Terri Buckley. Every time she felt she was gaining ground, she suddenly realized how far away she truly was.