by Mary Calmes
Everything lines up, and I'm sure he purposely touched that knife yesterday to throw us off. He killed Joyce Fain and left the murder weapon in plain sight, knowing that when he brought you back with him that you would see him touch it and vouch for his stupidity. We won't find any other prints on that knife because there aren't any others to find."
It didn't make any sense. "But Caleb was in Texas before yesterday, and they said Mrs. Fain was killed—"
"You told Lange that Caleb showed up at your hotel room.
How do you know when he actually got into town? Baby, he could have been there for hours before he showed up to meet you."
My head hurt again. "But Sam, he was kidnapped with me."
"Honey, you don't know that. You never saw anybody's face. If Caleb was working with Greg Fain, that means that he was sitting there watching Greg hit you and hold you down.
He killed Greg Fain when he wanted to let you go, and put him in that freezer in the backyard because he probably had no idea what else to do."
"But Caleb's my friend."
"No, he's not." He shook his head. "And he finally tripped up."
"How?" Dane asked, his voice cold.
Sam turned to look at him. "Because the neighbor that saw Jory heaving up a lung on the back porch called the police, because she thought they were breaking in. I think Caleb would have tried to talk Jory into walking around the house and looking for clues, but he didn't have enough time."
"So Jory's fingerprints would have been exactly where his already were?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
"You're telling me that Caleb killed Mrs. Fain earlier in the day, went through her house, and then led Jory back there to cover it up."
"Right. My guess is that Greg Fain and Caleb Reid know each other from somewhere and that there are pictures or something that tie them together that Caleb thought were in that house, but weren't. He led Jory back there to cover his tracks."
"But if it is Caleb, why wouldn't he just kill me? He's had hundreds of opportunities."
"I dunno," Sam said, his voice shaky. "But we'll find out."
"It's absurd," Dane said flatly. "Caleb Reid could no more kill a man then... he's not strong enough, Sam, and I don't mean physically... he's just... weak."
"I'm gonna hafta disagree," Sam croaked out and I realized that he was trembling. "It's Caleb, it all makes sense.
Why were we only able to find evidence that Greg Fain, Jory, and Caleb were ever in the shed? Why only Caleb and Greg's DNA in the house? How come the car only had evidence that Jory and Caleb had been in it, besides those punks that stole it? Why on earth would Caleb have touched that knife?
Everyone knows better'n that. Everyone."
It sounded light to me. "It's all just circumstantial evidence."
"Really?" Sam said indulgently. "Is that what you think?"
I scowled at him. "Sam, there's no hard evidence that ties Caleb to my kidnapping or any of the other murders."
"I bet there is. I bet there's something he missed in that house, and I know that Greg Fain knew me from somewhere or he wouldn't have been so freaked out when he heard that you were with me. We need to search Joyce Fain's house, her car, where she worked, everywhere, and then we need to find out everything about Greg Fain. I—"
"He's gone," Neal Lange said as he walked back into the room. "I got the word out that he's wanted for questioning so he won't get out of the city, but God knows where he is right now."
"Shit," Sam swore, and kicked the chair closest to him. "He must have known that his story and Jory's didn't match. This is the one time it didn't."
Detective Lange nodded. "Yeah. I mean, now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense. The gunshot wound could have easily been self-inflicted, and he knew every move we made because he was in our inner circle. Amazing that I didn't—I mean... all the fingerprints we don't have, all the DNA evidence that only showed him.... Christ, Sam, I'm sorry I totally missed it."
"We all missed it," he growled. "The point is, now that we know we gotta keep everybody safe. You need to get with Dallas PD and check out his parents' home, and his, and see what you can find out. Pull cell phone records and gas receipts and airline tickets... pull everything and then get back to me."
Lange nodded and left without another word. Detective Hefron was right behind him.
"Sam, you're wrong about Caleb," I told him.
He sighed deeply before he looked down into my eyes.
"No, baby, I'm never wrong," And then he suddenly squinted like he was confused. "What's with your hair?"
"It's not my gel," I grumbled.
"You're not helping," Aja snapped at him.
"Sorry," he teased her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
I looked over at Dane and saw that he was a million miles away, thinking, going through what Sam had said and turning it over in his mind.
"Jory baby, come here."
I went to Sam's other side and let him wrap his arm around my neck and pull me back against him. "You don't leave my sight, you understand? Now that he knows we know, he's got nothing to lose by going after you. There's nothing to hide anymore."
I shivered hard, and felt Sam's chin rest on the top of my head. I felt better for no other reason than he was there and solid once again. I wondered what would happen next.
Chapter Ten
We were sitting having Regina's homemade meatloaf when Detective Hefron and Detective Lange walked into the room, followed by another man. I watched Sam sit up in his bed and swing his legs over the side. He would have gotten up, but the man walked between the two detectives and put up his hand to stop him. When he was close enough, he extended his hand for Sam to take.
"Wow," Sam chuckled, clasping the hand tight and gripping the other man's shoulder. "Big gun."
The other man nodded, the edge of his lip curling just slightly as he looked at him. "Enough's enough, Sam. We are looking at a serial killer after all."
He nodded before the man let go and turned to the rest of us. His pale blue eyes roamed over us all before they settled on me.
"Jory Harcourt."
"Yeah."
He squinted at me. "Why're you wearing a coat inside?"
"'Cause I'm cold," I answered as the reason for my peacoat. It seemed like I was freezing all the time. Ever since Caleb and I had found Joyce Fain dead, I couldn't get warm enough. Aja said that it was psychological and not physiological, but I had dismissed her rationale. And yes, usually Sam was home to hold me and sleep with me and imprint on my mind and body so that everything else disappeared... but I was sure I was really, actually cold.
Neither she nor Dane was buying it, however.
"Hospitals are always cold," the man assured me.
"Who are you?" I asked irritably.
He walked over to me and extended his hand as I stood up. "Special Agent Zane Calhoun from the field office in Dallas... pleasure to meet you."
"Special Agent?"
He moved his badge from where it had fallen behind his tie. The letters were big and visible. "FBI. We're helping the Chicago PD with the investigation, as you know, and I've been called in from Dallas, since that's Mr. Reid's hometown.
We need to get him into custody as soon as possible before he hurts anyone else or endangers either you or your brother or Detective Kage again."
"But how can you be sure that—"
"That what? That Mr. Reid is a murderer?"
"Yes," Dane answered.
He turned and looked at Dane. "Dane Harcourt?"
"Yes."
He walked around the table and shook Dane's hand before taking the time to introduce himself to first Aja and then Sam's parents. When his eyes flicked back to Dane's, I saw him smile. "I can tell you, Mr. Harcourt, that we have seized hundreds of photographs of you from Mr. Reid's home. His mother has verified that he knew who you were almost six months before he approached Mr. Harcourt at—"
"It's gonna get confusing
," I said, cutting him off even though he wasn't talking to me. "Just call me Jory."
His eyes were back on mine and I saw how he was studying me. "All right then, Jory it is."
"So you're saying Caleb was around for months before he let either Jory or me know who he was," Dane said to clarify Agent Calhoun's earlier statement.
"Yessir, that's what I'm saying. At his home in Fort Worth we found a crawl space in the floor where we recovered a knife. Now I'm confident that it will be a match to the one that was used on all the victims. We found a gun in the back of Mrs. Fain's car that, again, I'm confident will be a match for the bullet in Greg Fain's head and for the one taken out of Caleb Reid's leg."
I just stared at his profile as he turned and looked at me.
"There was a box of college memorabilia in Greg Fain's storage locker in Hyde Park that I'm guessing Mr. Reid didn't know about, that I'm also guessing Mr. Fain was using as an insurance policy. No doubt he never got to deliver the threat to Mr. Reid, as he killed him before he got the chance."
"Why did he—"
"Kill Mr. Fain?"
"Yeah."
"My guess is that Mr. Fain was highly agitated when he found out about Detective Kage's involvement. Greg Fain had been arrested for selling marijuana to minors five years prior, and on that arrest record Dominic Kairov and Sam Kage are cited as the arresting officers."
"Really? When I was working vice?"
Agent Calhoun nodded.
"I don't remember him," Sam said quietly and Agent Calhoun turned to look at him.
"You can't remember them all, Sam, and my guess is that it's bad but not as bad as it sounds. When I pulled up the report, Greg Fain was twenty-two at the time of his arrest and the guys he sold the pot to were his friends, ages twenty to eighteen. I'm guessin' maybe you and Dom scared the crap out of him then, and when he found out you were involved, the same detective that busted him the only other time he had ever had a run-in with the law... he lost it. No way for Mr. Reid to calm him down, so he did what he felt he had to do and killed him."
"This doesn't seem too easy to you?" I asked him.
"Easy?" Agent Calhoun gave me a look. "It only seems easy because it's so clear. Detective Kage had a hunch and it was the right one. The box in Greg Fain's storage locker had photos of him and Mr. Reid from when they went to Texas A&M together. Only Mr. Reid graduated, but they must have kept in touch over the years. Maybe when Mr. Reid came here to see Mr. Harcourt, he looked up his old friend and put the idea into his head about kidnapping you to get your brother to pay the ransom."
"I remember Caleb being so surprised that Dane was going to pay a ransom for him as well as me."
"But see, it made no sense that Mr. Reid was kidnapped, and when Detective Kage called me and asked that I stayed involved even after both you and Mr. Reid were recovered...
we both felt that it had to be an inside job."
I nodded. "Who did you think it was?"
He sighed quickly. "I thought it was you, Jory."
"Me? But I was kidnapped and—"
"But you got away, and the way you did that, that whole story about car thieves and being left... that sounded odd to me."
"But—"
He put his hand up to still me. "But then Detective Kage was injured, and what you did after that... I knew then you were innocent even before you started running around town looking for answers. Finding the two boys that stole the car, finding the house where you were kept, even finding Joyce Fain... it was nice work and you did it all to keep Detective Kage safe."
I just looked him in the eye. "Why would Caleb want to hurt Dane?"
"The profile we did for Caleb Reid gives us insight into the mind of a classic sociopath. He wants what he wants and he has no remorse or even any emotion at all in his quest to fulfill his own needs."
"What does he want?"
"Well... first, he wants his family to be whole, and with you gone, Jory, the only siblings Dane Harcourt has are the Reids.
Second, he wants money—plain and simple. He sees his brother's wealth, sees the woman he married, the lifestyle he leads, and he wants it for himself. Money as a motivator is powerful and everybody gets that. With you dead and Mr.
Harcourt grieving, Mr. Reid can ingratiate himself and bring his brother back into the fold."
"Never happen," Dane told him.
"Of course not," Agent Calhoun assured him. "But it's not my fantasy, it's his."
I shook my head, "I still—"
"Caleb Reid killed the first victim right after he met you, Jory. He wrote your name on the wall in your old apartment with blood and fecal matter, and under your name he wrote the word 'fake'."
I shivered hard and looked over at Sam. He had never told me everything.
"Come here," he gestured me close.
I moved to his side and he tucked my head under his chin, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.
"I think fake means fake brother, and that was the piece that was missing all this time."
I nodded slowly.
"The next victim was taken after Mr. Harcourt's fortieth birthday party, which was, I understand, extremely lavish.
I'm sure just being there nearly killed Mr. Reid. Next was Mr.
Harcourt's engagement party to Miss Greene. He watched his brother throw another party and saw the beautiful woman he intended to marry. And then the wedding itself... it had to have been torture for him. You were there standing up with your brother, and he and his family were merely guests.
These were all instances of incredible rage that could only be vented through murder," he finished, and I realized how clinical he'd sounded.
"You know, Caleb isn't some case study, Agent Calhoun, he's a human being."
"Barely," he clarified. "Jory, I can't think of any reason for you still being alive beyond the fact that he must genuinely like you. There's no other reason for it."
I shifted away from Sam but not beyond his reach. "So what now?"
"Now Caleb Reid needs to be found and taken into custody and put under psychiatric care as quickly as possible. Until he's apprehended, you and Detective Kage, and Mr. and Mrs.
Harcourt, and everyone else are in terrible jeopardy. Let's not forget that Caleb Reid put a bomb in Detective Kage's car that nearly killed him."
And I had been missing all the rest, dismissing everything that had ever been done to me because I was fine, but Sam...
Caleb had tried to kill Sam. I turned and looked at him and felt my eyes get hot.
"Oh shit," Sam grumbled, glaring at Agent Calhoun. "Could ya lay the fuck off, Zane? Don't be such a fuckin' hard-ass when you're talking to Jory."
"Oh c'mon, Sam," he shot back as Sam reached for me, drawing me back into the circle of his arms. "Tell me you're not all thinking about him like he's still affable old Caleb.
None of you are putting together the monster inside with the harmless boy-next-door outside. None of you get it. Caleb Reid is—"
"Agent Calhoun."
We all turned to the doorway, where a man now stood.
"Chicago PD has Caleb Reid cornered in a parking structure downtown."
"Which one?" Dane asked.
And when the agent rattled off Dane's address, I was surprised. Why go there?
"He overpowered a security guard," the man continued,
"but he just knocked him out. He hasn't killed anyone but he's armed. It looks like he's threatening to turn the gun on himself. The negotiator's there and they're flying his parents in from Dallas as we speak."
"Poor Susan," Aja said softly, leaning into Dane's side as he curled an arm around her. "This has got to be killing her.
She's got to be thinking it's all her fault."
"So what now?" Dane asked Agent Calhoun. "How long will you try and talk to him?"
"As long as it takes."
There was a yell in the hall and a woman flew into the room.
"Calhoun—Caleb Reid has a hostage!"
She s
ounded calm even though she talked really fast.
"Who?"
"A woman, she was there to see the Harcourts... Carmen Greene."
"Oh God!" Aja gasped and nearly swooned.
Everyone moved at once, reaching for her, which gave me my moment. It was like we had planned it.
I bolted out of the room.
"Jory!" I heard Sam roar.
"Grab him!" Agent Calhoun shouted behind me, but I was pretty sure everyone was in the room.
I could not, would not, let Aja's sister Carmen pay for Dane's mistake, or mine. And I was ninety-five percent certain that if I could talk to him, I could get the gun away and let him live. Not that I was the second coming or anything, I just felt like I knew Caleb Reid pretty well. But then, maybe I didn't know him at all.
I hit the door for the stairs, went through, and ran up two flights. It crashed open seconds later and however many men there were went down. I followed them at a safe distance and slipped from the stairwell through the door on the third floor.
I walked to the opposite end and took the tiny elevator down to the emergency room, with ten other people stuffed into it.
I stepped out into a demilitarized zone—loud, chaotic, and crushed with people. The place was packed and I moved through the bedlam unseen. I was definitely getting good at running. I didn't even have to think anymore.
On the street I flipped up my collar and got a cab as soon as I moved to the curb. I had already missed five calls from Sam, three from Dane, and three from a number I didn't know. I turned it off and gave the driver directions to the building.
I panicked a little when I saw the barricade, but I had sort of a plan by the time I got there. It all hinged on how believable I could be. What was helpful was that I had keys.
Because even though the police weren't letting anyone in or out of the parking structure, they were letting people into the building itself. So once I got to the elevator that went to Dane's apartment, I took the private one at the opposite end of the hall to where he parked his car. When the doors whooshed open, there were the guys in their Darth Vader masks and body armor.
"What are you doing here?"
I was hoping that Agent Calhoun hadn't talked to every guy on the SWAT team already. "I was told to report to the negotiator. I'm supposed to try and talk to Caleb Reid until his mother gets here."