by J. C. Fields
Clark turned toward Knoll, “Sandy, have you seen an exit for Allentown Road?”
“Yeah, two miles ahead.”
“Take it.”
Knoll nodded. Clark returned to the phone. “What else, JR?”
“Once you’re on Allentown Road, the phone is south of Auth Road.”
Clark frowned and turned to Gibbs in the back seat to ask, “Does Auth Road sound familiar to you?”
“Yeah, Joint Base Andrews is close. Why?”
Returning to the phone, Clark asked, “Is this phone close to Andrews?”
“Hold on.” The call was silent for several minutes. “Yeah, a bit north, southwest of Auth Road.”
Gibbs leaned forward and put his arms on the back of the two bucket seat in the front. “There’s a Motel 6 just past Auth Road if I remember correctly.”
“I know where it is,” Knoll nodded. “Do you think?”
“Nothing else fits the location.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start.”
***
Gibbs leaned over the check-in desk, his cell phone held so the night clerk could see the picture.
“She here tonight?”
The clerk was tall, somewhere in his mid-twenties, skinny with gelled hair swept back on top and shaved on the sides. His pock-marked face showed the signs of untreated acne. He shrugged.
“Dude,” Gibbs palmed his FBI creds so the clerk could see them. “She’s in serious danger. Is she here?”
Another shrug.
“If something happens to her, you’ll be considered an accomplice.”
The clerk’s eyes grew wide, and he answered quickly, “Room 145, close to the back entrance.”
“I’ll need a passkey,” Gibbs demanded.
The young man stared at Gibbs for several moments, then searched a file box and handed him a plastic card.
“Thanks, dude.”
The three men approached the room with their guns gripped in both hands and pointed at the floor. Cigarette smoke permeated the hall as they spread out in front of the door to room 145, Clark to the left and Gibbs slightly to the right of the door. Glancing at each of his partners, Gibbs poised to knock, while Knoll stood behind him and nodded.
Knoll used his hand to count down front three fingers to one. When he made a fist, Gibbs knocked and spoke in a heavy Spanish accent, “Room service.”
No response from the room.
He knocked again. “You called room service.”
Still no response.
Gibbs inserted the card into the lock and glanced at Knoll and Clark. They both nodded. He heard the click, saw the green light, and Clark pushed the door open.
The room was pitch black. Light from the hallway illuminated a bare leg draped over the side of the bed. With his gun extended before him, Gibbs was first in yelling, “FBI”. Knoll was right behind and flipped the light switch next to the hotel door. Training kicked in as Gibbs swept the open bathroom and the small living area, his Glock extended in front of him. He yelled, “Clear,” and rushed to the body on the bed.
The woman was nude, her face swollen and disfigured from repeated blows. His fingers felt the carotid artery of her neck and felt a faint pulse. “She’s alive, call 911.”
Clark backed out of the room and punched the emergency code into his cell phone. Knoll found a blanket and covered the unconscious woman. He glanced at Gibbs, who was using his paramedic skills to make sure she was stable.
Knoll stood off to the side watching his teammate work.
“How long?” he asked.
“Don’t know, she’s in shock. We’ll be lucky if she makes it until the paramedics get here.”
“I’ll call Sean. He’ll want to know.”
Gibbs nodded.
***
“I can be there early morning. I’ll call Alan. They need to start looking for Burns.”
“Have them go to the Four Seasons. He’s got a room there.”
“Will do.”
Knoll ended the call and stepped out into the hall. He noticed two men enter the hotel from the back entrance and stop when they saw Clark and him in the hallway. The one on the left had a folded black plastic object tucked under his arm. Both men stared, hesitated, and quickly walked back out the door. Knoll sprinted after them and emerged just as they jumped into the side of a Ford Transit van and speed away, its license plate obscured.
Watching as the van disappeared around the side of the building, Knoll raised his cell phone up and hit re-send.
“Kruger.”
“Funny thing just happened.”
“Yeah.”
“Two guys entered the back entrance of the hotel. One had a body bag folded under his arm. Apparently, we weren’t supposed to find her this fast.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I just got off the phone with Alan. They have a Swat Team headed toward the Four Seasons. If he’s there…”
“He’s guilty, Sean. We have him.”
“Keep me updated on the girl.”
“Will do.”
***
Gibbs called Knoll from the hospital two hours later.
“She didn’t make it, Sandy.”
Knoll took a deep breath. “They’ve got Burns in custody and stashed away in a military brig on Andrews. He’s screaming about false arrest. I’ll tell them to change the charges from assault to murder.”
“We have evidence.”
“Oh?”
“Semen. They’ll have to do a DNA analysis to be sure, but the blood type matches Burns.”
Knoll smiled.
***
The next morning at two minutes after eleven, Robert Burns Jr., was shown into an interrogation room in the Joint Andrews Base brig. Sean Kruger sat at the table looking over a file folder in front of him. Once Burns’ shackles were secured to metal rings in the floor the MPs left.
Burn’s looked at Kruger, who ignored him. “I want a lawyer.”
Kruger continued to look through the file and remained quiet.
Burns spoke louder, “I want a lawyer.”
“I heard you.”
“Well?”
Looking up, Kruger smiled. “No.”
“I beg your pardon, it’s my right.”
“Yes, it is your right, but I wonder what happened to Linda Smith’s rights.”
“Who?”
“Linda Smith.”
“Who is that?”
“The woman we found last night with your semen in her.”
“Consensual sex. I didn’t even know her name.”
“She died after your consensual sex, Bobby.”
Burns stared at Kruger, his eyes widening slightly when the nickname was used. “When I left, she was fine. Smoking a cigarette, if I remember.”
Kruger smiled. “She didn’t smoke, and there were no cigarettes in the room.”
“Nevertheless, she was alive when I left.”
“I’m sure she was.” Kruger pointed to Burns’ right hand. “Nasty bruise on your hand. Hit something?”
“I’m done talking to you. I want my lawyer.”
Kruger stood. “I’m sure you will have one shortly.”
He turned and tapped on the door. It opened immediately. Before he left the room he turned to look at Burns. “You might want to know the Senate is having an emergency meeting on your status as a future senator. Doesn’t look good for you.”
Before Burns could respond, Kruger walked out.
As Kruger exited the facility where Burns was being held, Sandy Knoll and Jimmie Gibbs met him. Knoll spoke first.
“Well?”
“As we suspected, he denied knowing her, but when I told him his sperm was found on the body, he changed his story to consensual sex. He has a rather nasty bruise on his right hand. Did they get pictures of that?”
Gibbs nodded. “I made sure they did last night.”
“Good, you two come with me, we have an appointment with the director at one. Seem
s we stirred up a hornet’s nest.”
***
Director Paul Stumpf chuckled as he read a memo in the file in front of him. He sat at the head of a long conference table in the room next to his office. Sean Kruger, Sandy Knoll, Jimmie Gibbs, and Ryan Clark sat on his left. Deputy Director Alan Seltzer and Senator Roy Griffin sat to his right. He looked up at Kruger.
“You’ve been re-instated for less than a month and have successfully pissed off the President of the United States, a variety of senators, the governor of the state of Washington, and the thirty-ninth richest man in the world.”
Kruger gave the director a half grin and shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“I’m proud of you, Sean.”
“I’m just getting started. Burns will be transferred to the Morningside Police Department holding cell at four this afternoon.”
Alan Seltzer handed Kruger a printout from a file, saying, “The lab rushed this one, but preliminary DNA analysis of the semen found on the victim’s body belongs to Robert Burns Jr. They’ll do a thorough and complete test later, but so far, it’s him.”
“Good, we can hold him on that for a while. When’s his initial appearance?”
Knoll spoke next. “Tomorrow morning at ten. Apparently, his father’s attorney in Seattle appointed a temporary lawyer here until they hire one. That guy showed up an hour after we left.”
Jimmie Gibbs tapped his finger on the conference table, but did not speak. Seltzer looked at him and prompted, “What’s wrong, Gibbs?”
“Make sure the lab tests the bruises on her face. I’ll bet they find skin cells from Burns’ hand. He beat her severely.”
Seltzer nodded. “They’ve already taken samples. We should know before his appearance tomorrow.”
Taking a deep breath, Kruger let it out slowly. “We need him held without bail. No matter how large the judge makes it, Burns Sr. will post the bond.”
“Bureau lawyers are already working on it, Sean,” Stumpf said. “I’m told the U.S. Attorney for the District of Columbia will make the case for no bail.”
“Good,” Kruger smiled. “I’m glad this is being taken seriously.”
“Very much so. I’ve seen her in action, she’ll make sure he’s held without bail.”
Stumpf turned to Senator Griffin to ask, “Senator, what is the status within the Senate concerning our detainee?”
“Not much we can do at the moment. He hasn’t been sworn in. But, assuming he demands to be sworn in, we already have more than two-thirds of the membership ready to vote for expulsion.”
“The question now is how far Daddy Burns will go to protect Junior?” The question came from Sandy Knoll.
Stumpf cocked his head to the side. “Why do you say that?”
“We know Senior took the blame for Junior’s assault on the Senate intern, right?”
Everyone nodded.
“We know the bodies of the women kidnapped around the turn of the century were never found.”
Kruger frowned. “What are you thinking, Sandy?”
“Last night, after we found Smith, a couple of thugs walked into the hotel carrying what looked like a folded body bag. When they saw Clark and me, they scurried out of the hotel and sped away in a white Ford van.”
Still frowning, Kruger nodded slightly. “Junior walks away from the Smith woman…”
Gibbs interrupted, “Her last name was Ramos.”
Everyone looked at Gibbs, who was reading the screen on his cell phone.
“Just got the ID back,” he continued. “Linda Ramos. She lived in Clinton, Maryland, and was only twenty-two.”
The room was quiet. Kruger cleared his throat and asked, “Junior walked away from Ramos without trying to cover it up. Why?”
Seltzer spoke next. “What are you suggesting, Sean?”
“I’m not suggesting, I’m speculating. We have one incident where Senior stepped in and protected Junior. We have to guess, but the men Sandy saw last night were probably hired to clean up.”
Clark took up the narrative. “There’s the reason all the women kidnapped from the colleges were never found. Someone was hired to clean up the mess?”
Kruger nodded. “It may also be why no one has ever claimed responsibility. One person killed them, but unknown individuals, different in each case, disposed of the bodies.
Chapter 24
Seattle, WA
Joel Moody stared at his cell phone screen.
The Haylex building was quiet. The only associates present were dealing with issues in the eastern part of the country. It was a little after seven in the morning in Seattle, three hours behind Washington, D.C. The leading stories on all the news feeds he monitored were about the newly elected senator from Washington State being charged with murder. Moody had not heard from Robert Burns Sr. yet, but expected the inevitable to occur at any moment.
At exactly seven-twenty-one, Senior stormed into his office. “What the hell is going on in Washington, D.C., Joel?”
“You know as much as I do, Mr. Burns.”
“Have you made inquiries?”
Moody took a deep breath. “With all due respect, Mr. Burns, my job is security for Haylex Holdings. I am not Junior’s babysitter.”
The senior Burns’ face grew crimson, but he did not say anything immediately. Finally after a few moments, he said, “Since Robert Burns Jr. is a part of this company, his security is your concern, Mr. Moody.”
“CNN reports he’s been charged with kidnapping, rape, and murder. He finally got caught, Mr. Burns. After all these years, he got caught.”
“Has his attorney been notified?”
Moody shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I will attend to it immediately, Mr. Burns.”
Moody was already tired of the accusations and blame. Knowing Robert Burns Jr.’s true personality and keeping quiet about it was a burden he was tired of carrying.
The thirty-ninth richest man in the world leaned forward, putting his palms flat on the front of Moody’s desk to support himself. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Mr. Moody, in times of crisis, we all must do our part for the good of the company. Your focus for the foreseeable future is to travel to Washington, D.C., and make sure my son does not go to prison.” He raised his head and looked Moody straight in the eyes. “Is that understood?”
Moody stared back at the man, suddenly questioning his loyalty to this family. But a surge of greed and ambition made him slowly nod.
***
Kruger finished reviewing the Bureau’s evidence against Robert Burns, Jr., concerning the murder of Linda Ramos. He closed the file and slid it across the table to the U.S. Attorney for the District of Columbia.
Carol Welch was in her mid-forties, dark-haired, and petite. Her blue eyes were glued to the folder as she picked it up. After earning her JD degree at Yale she joined the U.S. Attorney’s office and gained a reputation as a buttoned-up, hard-nosed, and no-nonsense prosecutor. Now she occupied the top spot for the district. Her gaze went to Kruger.
“I was told you have additional concerns about the suspect, Agent.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Care to share?”
“We can prove one other woman was sexually assaulted by the suspect.”
Her eyes widened, but she remained quiet.
Kruger summarized the assault on Heather Grant. When he was done, he sat back and waited for a response.
“Why was he not prosecuted for it, Agent?”
“Money.”
She smiled and tilted her head. “Go on.”
After informing Welch about the intervention of the father, the non-disclosure agreement, and reviewing his meeting with Heather Grant and her attorney, Kruger once again grew quiet, waiting for a response.
“I see. Did she violate her agreement and talk to you about this, Agent Kruger?”
“No ma’am, her agreement is emphatic about not speaking to anyone about the incident. There is nothing in the agreement
about non-verbal responses.”
Welch almost grinned, caught herself, and nodded.
Kruger continued. “She confirmed the attack was made by our suspect, not the father.”
“Okay. That’s two sexual assaults. Why do you think he’s a flight risk?”
“There’s more.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Okay, tell me.”
Kruger summarized his renewed investigation of the missing college basketball players and laid out his new theory for the prosecutor.
Carol Welch sat back in her chair and blinked several times. “You have my attention. Anything else?”
“One of the agents who found Ms. Ramos reported seeing two men on the night she was attacked carrying a body bag toward her room. We suspect they were there to dispose of the body.”
Now Welch’s eyes were wide as she stared at Kruger. “Agent, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
Kruger nodded. “Our suspect has been at this for a long time. We need to put this guy away forever before another woman is attacked. If he’s released, I guarantee he will disappear.”
“Can you prove anything about the six missing women?”
Shaking his head Kruger hesitated for a second, “Not yet.”
She made strong eye contact with him. Pressing her lips together, she stood. “Find the proof, Sean. I’ll make sure he’s not released on bail.”
“Thank you, Carol.”
***
The United flight from Seattle’s International Airport landed at Washington, D.C.’s Dulles International a few minutes after seven a.m., Eastern Time. Haylex Holdings allowed associates at the director level and above to fly first class. Moody was Director of Security, so his seat in the second row of the plane allowed him to be one of the first passengers to depart. With his body on Pacific Time and having slept fitfully during the overnight flight, he needed caffeine before his ten a.m. appointment at the D.C. law firm of Rothenberg and Sandifer.
Another perk of working for Haylex Holdings at the director level allowed him to hire a limousine versus having to use Uber or, God forbid, a taxi. After checking into the Grand-Hyatt and a stop at a Starbucks, Moody arrived fifteen minutes early for his appointment at the law firm.