by Robin Mahle
“Afternoon,” the cashier said. “Can I help you find something?”
Danny pushed his hands into his jeans’ pockets and let his gaze roam around the store, finally pulling off his sunglasses, but keeping his head low. “You have any smokeless powder in stock?”
“Of course I do. Whatcha looking for? I got three different kinds. All available in multiple canister sizes. They’re right over here if you want to follow me.”
Danny had only purchased this once before since the job hadn’t required much, and that had been based on the recommendation from like-minded people. “Yeah, sure.”
“So, you looking for shotgun use or handgun?” The man said as he walked toward the aisle.
Danny knew precious little about the subject, so he was going to have to answer on the fly and not sound like an idiot, or a person with ulterior motives. “Uh, handgun, actually.”
“Great. Right here.” He picked up a canister. “This is the best one for handguns, in my humble opinion. It’ll maximize velocities. Great for 9 mil, 38 super and 40 S&W’s pistol loads.”
He was talking over Danny’s head, and this needed to come to a conclusion, so he went with it. “That should do the job. I’ll take that one.”
“You want the small canister or the larger one?” he asked.
“I’ll take the large one. Should get me by.” Danny smiled as if he knew what the hell he was talking about.
“Oh, it’ll get you by just fine.” The man turned on his heel and returned to the cashier station. “I’ll just ring that up for you, sir.” He scanned in the cannister. “How long have you been reloading?”
“Sorry?” Danny replied.
“Your cartridges. You’re buying the powder to load your own cartridges, right?”
“Right. Not long, actually. I’m just starting to see the benefit of it, and it’s been something that’s interested me for a while.”
“Uh-huh.”
Danny noticed the man’s eyes change. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was sure the look was now one of suspicion and not one of a gun enthusiast, much as he must’ve been. “My dad was big on all this and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. He died when I was a teenager.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I’m sure he’d be happy to know you’ve taken up one of his hobbies. That’ll be $126.97, then. Debit or credit?”
“Cash if that’s okay.” There was the look again. “A buddy of mine just paid me back for something and I figured there was no point in depositing this into the bank. I mean, people still use cash, or so I hear.”
“Cash is always accepted here,” the man replied.
“Great.” Danny handed over the money. “Thank you for your help.”
“No problem. I’ll just need you to sign the bill of sale and I need to see your driver’s license. Rules and all that.”
“Oh, sure.” Danny’s nerves shot on end. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his license. “Here you go.”
The man eyed it. “Thank you. And just the signature please.”
“Sure thing.” Danny took the pen while his hand hovered over the receipt.
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just reading the charge.” Danny scribbled a signature and handed back the receipt.
“Great. You be safe now. Takes a real steady hand, what you’re doing.”
“I hear you.” Danny walked out and felt the man’s stare on the back of his head. He shoved the copy of the receipt in his pocket and tugged down on his hat as he started toward the car. His trembling hand fumbled with the key and it took a moment before it slipped into the lock. When he finally opened the door, Danny slipped behind the wheel and threw his hat onto the passenger seat. “Jesus Christ.”
The other components had been easily procured, but it was the powder that was the main charge and the only element that was more easily traced. While he had to show an ID at the last store he visited, no signature had been required. So either the other place didn’t care, or this guy cared too much.
Danny was back on the road to his side of town. The cannister he’d purchased wouldn’t run out anytime soon so he could avoid another risk like that. And it was clear the cashier hadn’t bothered to view his signature because he would’ve seen that it was illegible and incomplete. Nevertheless, it was the closest he’d been to exposing himself and it scared the hell out of him. Danny was an expert at computers, cyber tech, and smart phones. But when it came to this, he knew just enough to get him by. And he knew that weaknesses were how people got caught.
Tillis returned to his office where Stallard and the BAU team waited. His expression told them everything they needed to know.
Stallard cast down his gaze. “No hits?”
“No. The kid’s not in the database. Not that I’m surprised, but I guess I had my fingers crossed that we’d end this thing before he had a chance to kill someone else.”
“What about cross-checking his identity with bystanders around the crime scenes?” Kate appeared to hold out hope.
“Still working on it. That’s going to take some time.”
Surrey shrugged as if looking on the bright side. “Then we still have something to go on.”
“You’re assuming the blonde kid is our bomber,” Stallard continued. “I’m not convinced of that and we have zero evidence to suggest it. Is it a coincidence he ran into one of the victims? Sure. But we all know that’s not enough.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, Agent Stallard,” Kate began. “But that timing is critical. Two days before Sienna Page’s death and she’s practically knocked over by a kid who fits the profile.”
“How exactly does he fit your profile, Agent Reid?” Stallard pressed on. “Young, white male. That’s all you have. And that’s not nearly enough to convict that kid right there on the screen. Look, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. I want this son of a bitch as much as the rest of you. But damn if we don’t need more than what we have.”
“What about a search for the white car?” Kate asked.
“We’re already on that too. Every damn frame is being scrutinized right now. The blonde kid, a white car. We won’t overlook anything again.” Tillis set his sights on Stallard. “It would be helpful for ATF to make some headway on their end.”
“We’re making some headway with the ammo shops. We just got a warrant to collect the data on people who purchased smokeless powder in the city.”
“And if the buyer used cash?” Duncan asked.
“Won’t change anything for us. These gun stores protect themselves. Cameras everywhere. Bills of sale. They have to track every purchase for this very reason. My guys will look at the corresponding video from each purchase, cash or credit, and see if any match the man on that video, or if we find someone else who we can track back to a white car. There are ways to find this person. It’ll just take time, patience, and cooperation. I get that we all want the same thing.” Stallard cast around his gaze. “And some of us are experts in getting into the minds of these folks while the rest of us do what we can to gather evidence. It’s time we all come together to find this person before he takes things to a level we don’t want to see.”
The link to the intel arrived on Nick’s computer while his team lead sat across from him. He glanced at Moskowitz. “Just keep me in the loop. I have a call with the New York ASAC this afternoon. Let’s get as much as we can over to them beforehand.”
Moskowitz nodded. “You got it, boss. If there’s nothing else?”
“No. We’re good.” Nick waited for him to leave and opened the email that contained an encrypted key to log into the server. He ran the encryption through the reader and typed in the results. The verification process took a few more moments and then what appeared on his screen was what Nick needed to see. He pulled in closer to the monitor and narrowed his gaze. The log listed each entry from every event on the southern border that night. Nick was only interested in one. The entry that showed Theo Bishop�
�s passport was checked and then removed only to be added back in later when it was too late for them to capture him before he crossed.
“This is the one.” Nick re-read the entry multiple times, checking it against his notes, making sure the passport number matched. “Son of a bitch. This is it.” With his index finger, Nick traced the line across the screen to the authorization name. “G. Coletta. Who the hell is G. Coletta?” An ID number was in the next column over and Nick jotted it down. He took a picture of the records with his phone, knowing he wasn’t allowed to save the information or record it anywhere, meaning he’d just broken the law. With his phone in his hand, he made the call. “Walsh, it’s me. I have a name.”
12
Fresh out of new leads, the BAU team resigned to head back to their hotel for the night. Tillis insisted his people would continue on the hunt for a white car or the blonde-haired kid at the crime scenes. It was hardly a secret he thought Quantico’s contribution to date was minimal, at best. This was Kate’s first lead investigation, and it currently rested on stagnant ground. They had banked on the idea this blonde kid was their guy despite a lack of proof. Assumptions were all well and good until somebody died because Kate got it wrong.
The hotel was about a mile from the Pittsburgh Field Office. The team walked inside the humble three-star accommodation when Surrey noticed the restaurant near the lobby. “I could use a bite to eat. Anyone else?”
“Sure. Why not?” Duncan replied. “Kate?”
“Probably should eat.”
They slipped into a booth and a waiter took their order, quickly returning with drinks. “Your food will be up shortly.”
Kate waited until he was out of earshot. “Is it me, or does anyone else feel like we’re just glorified field agents?”
Surrey tossed back a swig of beer as he sat opposite the women. “You have something against field agents?”
“Not at all. But Tillis doesn’t need more of them. He needs experts. That’s supposed to be us, and we aren’t living up to our end of the bargain,” she replied. “I should say, I haven’t lived up to that. He was right about my profile. It was generic and offered little more than what he already knew.”
“We aren’t the cavalry, Kate.” Duncan glanced at her. “We’re all busting our backsides to do what we can. You know it’s never that easy. If it was…”
“Everyone would be doing it.” Surrey raised his glass with a smile. “Tillis doesn’t think too highly of us. I think we can all agree we weren’t his first choice. But we just have to keep doing what we came here to do.”
“Fair enough.” Kate paused while the waiter set down their plates. “Thank you.” A moment later, she continued. “What are we missing, then? What about this guy makes him want to blow up people he thinks are either rich, or privileged in some way, to the disadvantage of others?”
“He’s misguided. Young. Angry,” Duncan began. “His first victim, Rob Delaney, wasn’t wealthy.”
Surrey raised his index finger. “Ah, but he appeared to be. What do they call those people? $30,000 millionaires? The ones who don’t make a lot of money but make it look like they do by leasing fancy cars and renting apartments in nice areas. Meanwhile, they’re in debt up to their eyeballs.”
“I’m not sure that’s what Delaney was about,” Kate added. “But it’s all about perception, isn’t it? Perception is what drew the bomber to him.”
“How is he finding them, though?” Duncan pressed on. “Is he following them on social media, or does he find them at random on the streets? They appear to fit his perceived profile, so he hacks into their lives and discovers he doesn’t like what he sees.”
“That’s what we have to find out.” Surrey finished his glass of beer. “None of the victims knew each other. They lived in different parts of town. Two were more outspoken on social media. Delaney was at odds with that impression, in my opinion. But the unsub still found something about him he didn’t like.”
Kate considered their points as she peered through the window into the hotel’s parking lot. “What is driving his selections?” she said, almost in a whisper. “There has to be some commonality we aren’t seeing.”
“Why? Why can’t it be random?” Surrey asked. “Crimes of opportunity. Nothing new there.”
Kate turned her gaze to him. “He didn’t like his victims for a reason. And right now, we think that reason could be socioeconomic.”
“Sure, but what else? Dig deeper,” Surrey replied.
Duncan looked on as the two seemed to feed off each other, prompting one another to get to the root cause of the killer’s motivation.
“What if they’re coming to him?” Kate asked.
Surrey returned an inquisitive gaze. “How so?”
“He earns a living somehow. What does he do for work? Does he come into contact with customers or clients?” she pressed on.
“You did initially think that he might work for a cell phone provider. With his knowledge of cyber tech, let’s assume he’s some kind of tech support guy.” Surrey cast down his gaze, appearing to ponder his assumption. “Smartphone support? It would explain his knowledge of cloning.”
Kate nodded. “That’s possible. Apple store employee?”
“We can verify that,” Duncan cut in. “We know what he looks like.”
Surrey turned to Duncan. “If he’s our guy. Again, we have no actual proof. But like you said, we can easily determine if the man in the security footage works at an Apple store in the city. It would explain how he came across people he perceived to be well-off.”
“We’re on the right track. We start checking computer shops, phone stores. Until we can get a hit on surveillance, it’s our next best shot.” Kate’s attention was drawn to the waiter who approached.
“Is there anything else I can get you folks? We’re about to close the kitchen.”
Duncan peered at him. “I think we’re ready for the check. Thanks.” She returned her attention to Surrey and cast her gaze between her colleagues. “I’m not sure I’ve seen that before.”
“Seen what?” Kate asked.
“The dynamic between you two. Don’t you see it? You’re like two halves of one mind.”
Kate considered the comment and Duncan wasn’t wrong. She’d felt it before during her time with Surrey working the Mercy Killer investigation. She recalled the moment clearly as they’d been in his hotel room, sitting at the tiny table, reviewing the case files. They bounced ideas off one another, traded probing questions. Kate had shared that sense of connection to Nick, but this was different.
Surrey smiled awkwardly as he looked at Kate. “Great minds think alike.”
They returned to the elevator and as the doors parted on their floor, Duncan stepped into the hall. “Goodnight, Surrey.”
“Night. Night, Reid.” He started ahead in the opposite direction toward his room.
As Kate and Duncan reached their room, Kate touched her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Duncan opened the door and stepped inside. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. The way you looked at me back there. At the table. Do you think there’s something going on between Surrey and me?”
“No, of course not.” She slipped off her shoes and pulled the elastic band from her thick caramel hair before dropping onto the bed near the window. “It was just weird the way you two were back there. You were never that way with Quinn.”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Kate took off her shoes and sat down on the other bed. “Quinn tried to use me.”
“I know. But what you and Surrey have is incredible. I get that it’s not physical or emotional. I’m not trying to say that at all. What I am saying is that you two together? Call me crazy, but he brings out a side of you I think you’ve been keeping to yourself.”
In the dark living room as midnight approached, Danny sat on his sofa with his laptop resting on his knees. The light of the screen turned his face a sickly blue. He punched at the keys and waited for a
reply.
“Kingmaker, you want a deal? I told you what I need. Get that and we’ll talk.”
The tradeoffs he’d already made had gotten him this far. If Danny wanted to continue his crusade, he was going to have to pay up. “I’ll send it tomorrow.” He pressed “enter.”
All kinds of commodities were bought and sold on the dark web. Danny was one of many who traded. People believed it was a dangerous place. They were right. It was an entire community of soulless criminals and when he’d first ventured into this murky world, he had been surprised by it. Not anymore. He’d become one of them. Groups existed inside that world in numbers that could bring about revolutions and plunge the world into chaos with a single command. Danny’s part was insignificant by comparison. Nonetheless, he still had a part to play. And until he could bring home Mel, he wasn’t finished.
Danny eyed the phone on the coffee table. It was a copy of the phone that had belonged to his new friend, Jeff. He had learned a few things about Jeff. Like the fact that he and a woman named Laura were sexting each other. He typed his reply to a message that arrived earlier. “I’ll just bend you over my desk. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Danny smiled but it quickly faded. “Whore.”
He’d also learned that Jeff was a lawyer. Many of the messages were from what looked to be clients. Danny scrolled through the messages and opened another one. “Golfing? You like to golf, do you Jeff?” His tone was laced with sarcasm. When he prepared the reply, Danny laughed. “Go fuck yourself, Dave.” He hit send. “That’ll cost you, won’t it, Jeff?”
While Jeff kept mostly to himself and didn’t seem to post a lot about his life on social media, it became clear that he was nothing more than an ambulance chaser. And the man couldn’t put down his phone long enough to have a decent conversation with another human being. So Jeff was rich. Strike one. And he was a douchbag. Strike two.
Danny walked to the front door and swiped his keys from the bowl on the table. Outside, the air was muggy even as darkness blanketed this part of the earth. It was no surprise to learn that Jeff lived in one of the Victorian-style mansions in Shadyside. In the city’s East End, the wealthy neighborhood was a place Danny would never experience first-hand.