At first, Sam had been ecstatic to work with the prominent forensic scientist. He loved crime shows that glorified the trade, even though he understood that most of the “facts” presented on those shows were complete nonsense.
“You know a dozen locals have probably already tromped the place to pieces, right?” Sam asked, loosening the knot of his tie and slipping it over his head. He considered taking off the jacket too, but decided against going that far.
“That’s no excuse for sloppy work on our end,” she countered.
Knowing he was going to look like an idiot, Sam donned the Smurf shoes and sighed. Blue shoe covers did not go with a black suit.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” said Mira. She flashed him a bright smile that reached her cool gray eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t carry lab coats in your size.” As she spoke, the petite woman donned a white lab coat and plucked a pair of blue gloves from the pocket. After pulling the gloves on, she dove back into her car and came up with a fresh box of gloves. The box was promptly hurled over the car.
Ready this time, Sam caught the box with ease and glanced down, pleased to see they were size extra-large.
“Wear a pair and stuff a bunch in your pockets,” instructed the scientist. “I’m without a technician today, so you’re going to fulfill that role, if you’re willing.” The words floated to him slightly distorted as she was still digging around in the guts of her car. Popping her head up so she could make eye contact, she asked, “You’re not squeamish, are you?”
“I don’t faint at the sight of blood,” Sam said, squaring his shoulders.
“How are you with foul smells?”
He didn’t know how to answer her. Nobody had ever asked him such an oddball question.
“Um, fair, I guess.” Sam prepared to catch something else and wasn’t disappointed. A tiny container of pale yellow gel sailed his way. He cautiously opened the lid then made a face when a strong chemical odor crawled up his nose.
“It’s better than what we’re about to find,” said Mira cheerfully. “Rub that under your nose. You can wash it off when we’re done. I have baby wipes for just that purpose.”
Sam wondered if there was anything the scientist didn’t have packed into the back of her car. He waited a beat, just in case she wanted to chuck something else at him. When nothing else came, he applied a small amount of the yellow gunk just above his upper lip. The minty chemical scaled the hairs in his nostrils. The stuff had the consistency of melted lip balm. Wiping the excess on the back of his other hand, Sam sealed the rest and pocketed the container. Then, he took a handful of gloves and stuffed them into a different pocket. He didn’t want to put the gloves on until the last moment. He remembered the feeling from high school biology class, just before dissections. Those had smelled nasty, especially the shark.
“Do you have the Vicks?” asked Mira, breaking into his memories of bio class.
“The what?” he responded.
“The smelly goo that looks like Vaseline,” she clarified.
“Sure.” Sam retrieved it from his pocket and gently tossed it her way.
Snatching it out of the air, Mira thanked him and applied some to her face. She now wore a heavy-duty digital camera around her neck. The accessory made her look more like a tourist than a scientist, but the lab coat, booties, gloves, and hairnet spoke otherwise. Sam silently thanked the universe she hadn’t made him wear a hairnet. Once the ritual was complete, Mira leaned down and picked up a giant toolbox Sam hadn’t even seen her take out of the car.
Hurrying around the car’s rear, Sam reached for the case.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
“It’s heavy,” Mira warned.
Sam grunted when the full weight transferred to him.
“What’s in here?” He adjusted his grip to better facilitate carrying the bulky container.
“Too many things to list,” replied the scientist. She grinned. “Now you know why I like to travel with a strapping young tech—or a federal substitute.” Her gaze swept over him, and her eyes were filled with mirth. “You’ll do.” With that, she spun around and headed for the nearest uniformed trooper.
Setting the box down, Sam quickly pulled on a pair of gloves. This gave the scientist the chance to reach the edge of the woods. The trooper gestured and explained something to her. She nodded and marched in. Sam scooped up the toolbox and hurried after her.
He arrived as Mira lined up the first shot of a plastic bag hanging from a tree. Without looking up, she motioned for him to stop. He did so, unwittingly becoming a part of a somber semi-circle of uniformed men and women that had gathered to watch the scientist work. One man made the sign of the cross on his chest. Sam didn’t see what the big deal was until he looked closer at the bag and saw the lifeless eyes staring at him. He flinched, but nobody mocked him for it.
After taking dozens of pictures, Mira reached up and gently removed the long nail holding the bag in place. The head shifted, but Mira caught the top of the plastic bag and held it in place.
Everybody drew a sharp breath.
“Is there anything we can do to help, ma’am?” asked an older man wearing a sheriff’s badge.
Mira glanced at the man.
“No offense, but you’re not properly geared to help, Sheriff,” Mira said.
“I am,” Sam reminded her, suddenly grateful for the stupid blue booties. “What do you need me to do?”
“Who are you?” demanded the sheriff.
“That’s Agent Kerman with the FBI. The rest of the proper introductions will have to wait until the tricky part’s done, but I’m sure we’ll be here a while,” said Mira, lifting her chin to point to her right.
Following the motion, Sam saw that this wasn’t the only tree bearing a bag. He stared.
“Sam.” Mira waited until she had his attention. “Please take the bag and lower it gently to the ground. I want to take a few more pictures. Then, you’ll need to extract the head so I can examine it.”
Swallowing hard, Sam carried out the instructions. He opened the bag as wide as possible and considered his options. If he used two hands, his sleeves would definitely brush the sides. If he used one hand, he risked dropping the head. Aside from being disrespectful to the dead, the scientist would have his head should that happen. Reminding himself he loved his job, Sam steeled his nerves and reached into the bag, keeping his elbows as close together as possible. With a few awkward maneuvers, Sam managed to extract the head and place it on top of a plastic sheet Mira laid out for that purpose.
The scientist worked in silence for several long minutes.
Sam moved back to the semi-circle to keep out of her way. The only sounds that could be heard belonged to the creatures around going about their daily lives. The occasional far-off gunshot could also be heard. One of the hunting seasons must have opened, but he couldn’t remember which one.
Finally, Mira Stratham stood, wearing a puzzled expression.
“What’d you find?” asked the sheriff.
“I’m not sure,” the scientist admitted. “It’s a gray, flaky mystery particle of some kind. It looks sort of like greasy dust. I’ll know more when I get to test it properly.” She reached into her toolbox and selected a swab and a tiny plastic bag. After brief consideration, she threw the swab back into the box and chose a small metal scoop. Holding the bag at an angle, she brushed some flakes in. Picking up a new swab, she rubbed it along the edges of two shallow cuts running down the man’s face. She secured the new swab in its own plastic bag and stood up, examining the two prizes.
Chapter 3:
Good Brothers
The Killer’s Lair
Undisclosed Location
Six monitors flashed images in front of Andrew Novak. The top three were tuned to various national news providers covering the grim Halloween discovery of a body in an area preserved for hunting. Serious-faced beautiful people silently spoke of what had first been pegged for a disgusting Mischief Night prank. He didn’
t have to hear them to know what they were saying. Their stories had altered only minutely for hours.
The bottom three screens held home security footage from various places around his sister’s house. He hadn’t pegged Mel for being quite so sentimental until he discovered she was renovating their childhood home.
Getting unobtrusive security cameras in place had been child’s play. He had simply waited for her to go to work then strolled right in. She couldn’t take enough time off to supervise every workman who came and went for the better part of three months. Her patients would miss her too much. A swell of pride filled him as he thought of her accomplishments. Their mother’s death had devastated her, but when she bounced back, she also redirected her life, choosing to treat pediatric patients suffering from cancer. The road to getting a medical degree had taken her longer than other people, but she’d made it. Andrew had helped with an anonymous—and rather generous—“scholarship,” but the brainy stuff was all Mel.
Two years ago, when he decided to launch a crusade against evildoers everywhere, Andrew had cut off most contact with his sister. He expected to make enemies along the way, and Mel was perhaps the only person he still cared about. He’d lost touch with Josh during college, mostly because the jerk had married Andrew’s ex-girlfriend without telling him.
Each November first—Mel’s birthday—Andrew always made an exception to his self-imposed no-contact rules by sending her a large bouquet of purple amaryllis flowers. She had always had a thing for the pricey flowers. Now that he had money, he enjoyed indulging her, even from a distance. He never signed the card, but she would know it was from him.
Movement on the bottom left screen made him frown. Tapping a few keys, Andrew spread the image over the six tightly arranged screens, so that they formed one image. A man in firefighter gear stood on Mel’s front stoop holding a bulky bakery box in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. The camera sending the image was too far away to offer many details, but Andrew recognized the figure.
His blood pressure spiked.
Josh.
A few more key strokes switched the view to a different camera. This one offered an excellent view as Mel greeted Josh with a warm hug. Jealousy gripped Andrew as Josh lowered the bakery box to the ground and picked Mel up with one arm, spinning in a complete circle once, twice, and then a third time. Hating himself for not being there, Andrew added sound so he could hear their conversation.
“Put me down!” Mel ordered, laughing as she playfully swatted Josh’s head. “And watch your step or you’ll be headed to work with cake on your boots. Won’t you stay and have some?”
Setting her down, Josh shook his head.
“Sorry. Duty calls, so I have to jet. Must earn the big bucks if I want to see the 49ers trash the Seahawks in person this year.”
“You’ve been saying that for years,” said Mel. Andrew could tell from her expression that she wondered if Josh would let her pay for such a trip. For all his complaints about money, their brother took enormous pride in providing for his family. “Go for it. Eddie’s old enough to appreciate it.”
“Maybe we will,” Josh murmured. He shook off the thoughtful expression like a dog casting off water. “Anyway, happy birthday, Sis. Josie said she and the kids would help you with the cake problem when they get here. Gotta go.” After one more, brief hug, Josh turned around and headed for his Expedition. Midway down the walk, he turned, and said, “I’ll call later if it gets slow. How’s two-thirty sound?”
“Sounds great!” Mel called back. “But remember Josie and the kids are camping here for a few days. If you wake one of the little ones, you’ll answer to her.”
Josh gave a mock shudder, threw Mel a casual salute, and climbed into his vehicle.
Their ease with each other bothered Andrew. He indulged in a few moments of regret at having lost touch with his siblings, before sighing and releasing the feelings. Family was a sacrifice necessary for his crusade. Watching over Mel from afar would have to suffice in lieu of a real relationship.
Mel picked up the cake box and brought it into the kitchen along with the flowers. Seeing her put the cake into the refrigerator required yet another camera switch. When she started unwrapping the bouquet of roses Josh had given her, Andrew switched back to Camera-2, the one that viewed the front door.
Backing up the image, Andrew froze Josh’s face at the instant before he turned to leave. It was the first real glimpse of his brother in years. The physically demanding job had strengthened Josh’s body. His shoulders were broader than Andrew remembered, and his muscles appeared more defined through the thin, white undershirt.
For one second, Andrew considered killing Josh, but he dismissed the idea for several reasons. First, in the grand scheme of life, his crimes were petty. Marrying Josie might have been a low move, but if he were honest, Andrew knew he had no real claim over her at that stage in their lives. Second, killing Josh would draw attention to their family. If the investigators were thorough, they might seek him out. He had a lot to accomplish before letting them get that close. Third, it would make Mel sad. She’d suffered enough in her thirty-four years of life. Even if it meant letting Josh play the part of the good brother, Andrew would let her keep him as an emotional support.
Setting the cameras back to normal status, Andrew turned the news stations back on and unmuted the middle one at random.
The reporter peered into the camera and nodded in response to whatever the anchor had just said.
“That’s right, Al. The FBI has just released a statement saying that due to the violent nature of the crime committed, they’re working closely with the Pennsylvania State Police to get answers as soon as possible. This is Channel Thirteen’s Natalie Carmen reporting live from Bradford County.”
Muting the news before it could switch back to the studio people, Andrew rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He’d been without a true challenge for a long time. He wasn’t certain what law enforcement would do next, but he wanted to find out. Once he knew the key players involved, he could monitor the situation and manipulate them as necessary. The media might prove useful too. Hacking into the FBI might be tempting, but he refrained. That could come up later, but he’d start off easier. The news people were social media divas. Finding one to suit his purposes would be a simple matter of some Google searches. He needed somebody young, ambitious, and beautiful but not too high up the food chain.
***
Super-Saver Motel
Bradford County, Pennsylvania
Midnight had come and gone by the time Sam Kerman checked into the questionable motel. He would have preferred to drive through the night to get back to Philadelphia for the privilege of sleeping in his own apartment, but once again, Special Agent in Charge Louis Hatcher had overruled him. They had a meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss the case, but the SAC wanted Sam and Mira close to the scene just in case something new developed.
If the phone conversations Sam had overheard panned out, Mira would be sticking around the area to oversee the evidence team being dispatched from Quantico. That would mean waiting around until he got a ride or renting a car. Kicking off his shoes, Sam laid back on the bed, being careful not to land on his gun, and closed his eyes, dreading how soon morning would come. He didn’t even have a toothbrush to perform proper bedtime rituals.
A brilliant idea sailed into his head, causing him to sit up. Maybe he wouldn’t have to wait around after all. Digging out his phone, Sam checked his text messages and voicemails. His kid sister had called three times and texted him about eight times, demanding updates. Jenn had been incredibly jealous of him meeting Mira Stratham. Apparently the tiny woman was a superstar in the forensic science world. Sam couldn’t remember the details. He’d sort of blocked out Jenn’s glowing report when she started spewing facts like normal people give baseball statistics.
Knowing he should clear his idea with the lady scientist first, Sam forced his body up and stumbled over to the phone. After muddling
through the room to room instructions, he placed the call. Mira answered on the third ring sounding wide awake. Sam wasted no time in stating his proposal. Mira asked some probing questions, and then granted his request. Lest Sam get too comfortable, she reminded him that he ought to clear it with SAC Hatcher.
Once he hung up, Sam sat on his bed and pulled his sister’s number up on his phone. He hesitated only a moment, deciding that she’d get over her crankiness in a hurry once she heard him out.
“Did you get it?” Jenn’s question caught him off guard.
“Hey, Squirt. Nice to hear your sweet voice. How was your day?”
“You forgot,” Jenn accused.
“I forgot,” Sam admitted, remembering her ridiculous request for an autograph. “But you’re going to forgive me in a moment because I got you something far better.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Jenn’s tone made her skepticism clear.
“The opportunity to play hooky and let me borrow your car.”
“What’s in it for me?”
Sam let a few beats pass just to make her suffer. That was his job as her older brother.
“You get to spend all day—and possibly multiple days—shadowing Mira Stratham and her team while they work to catalogue the evidence out here in the Pennsylvania sticks.”
“Really?” Pure elation filled her tone. She was mere weeks from completing her forensic science degree with a double major in that and chemistry.
“I still have to clear it with my boss,” Sam cautioned, “but Dr. Stratham’s on board with the idea. Can you afford to miss a few days?”
“Of course! Most of my classmates would practically kill for an opportunity like this.”
Sam enjoyed the irony of her statement.
“Who’s the best brother ever?”
“This time, you definitely are,” Jenn replied. “This is awesome! I’ve got to go pack. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“Whoa. Slow down, Squirt. The dead guy’s still going to be here whenever you arrive.”
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