by Blake Pierce
She’d wanted to get some time alone with Nate before they went inside. A chance to meet him in the corridor, ask him not to start mentioning therapy to their boss. But now she was just going to have to hope that he’d stayed quiet on his own.
She half-ran down the hall, her blonde hair flying in a ponytail behind her, arriving at Rondelle’s door and then pausing for only a moment. It was closed. She could hear them talking on the other side.
She knocked and then opened the door and went in without waiting to be told, hoping she would catch them in the act if they were talking about her. But though both of them looked up at her with a startled expression, neither of them looked guilty.
“Agent Frost,” Rondelle said, from behind his desk. He was seated casually, behind a stack of paperwork as he always seemed to be. He watched her with inquisition in his sharp eyes, like he was reading more than she would have liked into her quick entrance. “We were just about to discuss the case. Do come in.”
Laura closed the door behind her, having to pretend not to hear the quiet rebuke in that statement. The fact that she hadn’t been invited in before entering. “It sounded urgent, sir. I rushed over as quick as I could.”
She glanced at Nate, standing in front of the desk in an easy, relaxed pose. He, too, was still wearing street clothes, probably not having come from home either. He met her glance, no longer avoiding it, but he didn’t give anything away either.
“That it is,” Rondelle said, leaning back in his chair and looking at both of them. The light by his desk highlighted the grays in his dark hair – or the dark in his gray hair, since the gray seemed now to be winning. “We have a very interesting case unfolding in Atlanta, Georgia. After you tackled the twins’ case so easily, I figured you’d need something more of a challenge.”
Nate snorted. “Thanks for that, Chief.”
He was playing around with them, and all of them knew it. The last case hadn’t come easy at all. It had been hard. They all were. That’s what it was like, being an FBI agent. Taking on the cases that were too complex for the locals to figure out. It was never going to be easy.
Chief Rondelle smiled. At least he seemed to be in good spirits, for whatever reason. Maybe because he could see that his two favorite agents were talking to each other again, if nothing else. “We had a report a couple of hours ago about a murder victim discovered in very unusual circumstances. She had a clock placed around her neck and was bound and gagged, hanging from the ceiling in an abandoned warehouse. She's the second such victim found in two days. It looks like we have a pattern on our hands, and it's a very specific one. Both women, both with the clock, both hung by the neck as a method of death. As for the clocks themselves, they appear to not only tell the time, but count it down.”
“Count it down?” Nate frowned, picking up on that immediately. “This is some kind of sick game or something? He lets them know how long it will be until they die?”
“You appear to have it already,” Rondelle nodded. “The setup includes a kind of mechanism which allows a platform to drop at the time marked on the clock. When it falls, the woman is hung.”
“We’d better get there as soon as possible,” Laura said, glancing at Nate. “Someone like this, they’re not going to take two victims and stop. This is someone having the worst kind of fun. They’re playing a game, and they’ll keep playing it until we stop them.”
“Agent Frost has it,” Rondelle nodded, with a sly look in his eyes. “I’ve got the pair of you on flights that leave in less than an hour. You’d better get moving as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir,” Laura said. She stepped forward, holding out a hand to take the briefing documents, which he handed over readily. She turned, only sparing one glance to make sure that Nate was following her as she left the room. To her relief, he did.
Laura had found in her time in law enforcement that sometimes, if you just walked quickly and purposefully enough in one direction, people would end up following you.
“Laura,” Nate said, his voice low as they made their way down the hall.
“What?” she asked, throwing the word over her shoulder on her way to the elevators. “We need to keep moving.”
“Yeah, but…” Nate sighed, breaking into a light jog to catch up with her just as she stepped inside the elevator and turned to face the hall. “Wait, just for a second. Are you up for this?”
“Am I up for what?” Laura asked, blinking. “Doing my job?”
The doors closed, leaving them in privacy at least for the moment. “Yes,” Nate said, ducking his head to look her in the face on her level. “After last night – are you sure you want to take this on right away? I’m guessing you didn’t speak to Rondelle about starting therapy, given he didn’t mention it.”
“Neither did you,” Laura said. Not an accusation or a question. More of an assessment.
“I thought you should have the chance to do it yourself,” he said. “But, honestly, I still think you need to do it. And I’m more than happy to do this one solo, or take someone else. Jones, maybe. He hasn’t done a lot of out of state cases since his partner retired. I’m sure he’d jump at the chance.”
“Nate, I’m fine,” Laura said. She passed a hand across her brow, then looked up at him. “You know what? What you said… It got through to me. I started thinking. A lot. That’s why I took today off. To process everything.”
“And?” Nate said, expectantly.
“You’re right. I haven’t been in the right frame of mind,” Laura said. “I’ve been letting the pressure get to me, the stress. But that’s not a problem anymore. Amy Fallow is settled somewhere safe. I’ve got custody of Lacey back, if only partially. I mean, I get to actually see my daughter again. And I’m sober. And staying that way. These crazy ideas I’ve been holding onto… I don’t need that crutch anymore. I’ve been lying to myself, trying to find a way to keep going. But now – I actually have something to keep going for. It’s all going to be fine. No more stupid stuff. I can see clearly now.”
Nate studied her carefully. The doors slid open on the parking lot. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said, offering him a tired smile. “I am. I just hope we get this case done quick. It’s Tuesday now, and I’ve got Lacey’s first court-mandated visit this weekend. I don’t want to risk missing it.”
Nate blinked, following her towards their parked cars as she strode out. “Are you sure, then?” he said. “You don’t want to sit this one out? There will be other cases.”
“But I’m fine,” Laura said, looking at him with a smile as she reached for her car door. “I really am fine, now. And I love my job. I still want to keep doing it. Lacey coming around – it’s every weekend, now. So, I’d better get used to this new normal.”
Nate nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said, looking her over one more time. “Meet you at the airport?”
Laura smiled, a full smile, the kind that would set off a dimple in one side of her cheek. “Race you there.”
It was only after he’d peeled out of the parking lot, and she followed him before diverging onto a different road, that she allowed herself to relax. Privately, she thought she’d just performed some of the best acting in her life. It was a shame that no one else was ever going to appreciate it.
Nate had made it clear that he wasn’t going to believe her. That was fine. She couldn’t keep trying to get him to. Not with something like this. At least she had tried it once, tried to tell him the truth. What more could she be expected to do now?
It was too damaging, too difficult. Humiliating, even, to keep trying to convince him of something that even she would have admitted sounded absurd in any other circumstance.
If this was how it had to be in order to get him to work with her again, to trust her and not push things anymore, then this was how it could be. Laura could live with that.
They had people to save. A case to solve. A killer to catch.
And Laura was going to keep her head down this w
eek, get it done, and be back in time for her weekend with Lacey in three days.
As far as she was concerned, there were no other options.
CHAPTER SIX
Laura got out of the car and shaded her eyes, though with the gray winter sky above them it was hardly necessary. Still, she surveyed the whole scene first before stepping forwards. An abandoned warehouse, part of an industrial area that had clearly seen better days. There wasn’t a lot of activity anywhere behind or around them, but in front, local police cars filled the parking lot and blue-uniformed men and women swarmed in and out of the doors.
She checked her watch. It was just after two in the afternoon. Not a whole day’s start, but at least they would be able to get a good amount of work done before needing to get some rest. No one had met them at the airport given the short notice, so Nate had seconded her plan to drive straight to the most recent crime scene and see what they could see.
“Hey,” Laura called out, snagging the first person to go anywhere near to them. “Who’s the commanding officer here?”
The young woman she had chosen gave her a wide-eyed and somewhat startled glance. “That would be Captain Blackford,” she said.
“Where is he?” Laura asked.
The young woman hesitated. Her eyes went to the doors of the warehouse, which was all the information Laura needed.
She’d been a little brusque, probably. But she had a mission in mind, here. Get in, solve it, get out, go home. See Lacey. Pleasantries were something you could spend time on when you didn’t have a ticking clock above your head.
Quite literally, Laura thought, as she walked into the warehouse, ignoring the protests of the young officer that the crime scene was supposed to be closed. Because this was where it had happened: the young woman hung with the clock around her neck. There was no sign of her now, but Laura saw the rope dangling from the roof beams and the busy activity below it.
“Um, ma’am,” the officer protested again, but Laura drew out her badge and showed it to her, barely looking. “Oh. Um. Right. Captain Blackford is over there, by the platform.”
Now Laura did look, to see where the woman was pointing. Up above, there was a rickety-looking metal staircase leading to a gangway. The platform, or so Laura guessed it had to be, was hanging down now, a flat vertical line against the side of the gangway. A couple of uniformed men were standing up there, looking down.
“Thank you,” Nate said, warmly, taking over where Laura’s social graces had apparently failed her. “We’ll go have a chat with him now.”
His words effectively released the young woman from her duty of making sure they got where they needed to, and she rushed away gratefully. Laura didn’t spare her a second glance. She was almost captivated by the platform, the rope. The cruel juxtaposition they made. A story: a fall, then an arrest of that fall.
Death, even if one of them didn’t work. The rope breaking would have caused anyone up there a fall from a great height, enough to damage a body beyond repair.
“After you,” Nate said, seemingly with a note of humor.
Laura glanced at him, and saw he was eyeing the metal staircase with significant distrust. “So gentlemanly of you,” she said, glad they could go back to this: the idle banter. Winding each other up.
She wasn’t afraid of the staircase, given that someone else had already climbed up there. As Nate snorted in response to her comment, she moved towards the stairs with purpose, trying not to wince when the metal step creaked as she put her foot on it.
It was rusted, old, no doubt completely forgotten and out of repair. But it held. She had an eerie feeling, climbing up and feeling it sway underneath her feet. Like she was moving through something other than air. Swimming, maybe. Or floating. Like the ground was no longer a guaranteed concept.
Looking back, she saw that Nate had stayed on the floor below her. He had a slightly green look about him, now.
“You’re doing great,” he called up. “Keep going. I’ll stay down here and take in the forensics situation.”
Laura laughed, shaking her head at him. Nate wasn’t afraid of much, but from time to time, her big, strong, masculine partner did show a little weakness. Fear of heights was one of them, and while she’d seen him push himself when he needed to, going up a rickety ladder like this was apparently a step too far for him. “I’ll fill you in later,” she called down.
The exchange had lifted her spirits a little. The climb, somehow, did too. Like it was a thrill. Taking a risk, doing something that could be dangerous. On the other hand, she had no doubt that the locals would already have assessed the stairs, deemed them fine for people to climb, at least in the service of investigation. If they hadn’t, the local Captain wouldn’t be standing up there so casually.
Laura finally reached the top of the stairs, looking down at the sickening distance to the ground and trying not to imagine what it would be like to smash down onto it. In front of her, the two men she had seen were facing her curiously, no doubt having been unable to avoid hearing her climb up towards them on the clanking, creaking metal frame.
“You must be the FBI,” one of them said in a strong Georgia accent, moving towards her a couple of steps. He was younger than Laura had expected from below, maybe around her own age or a little older. He had a blunt, kind of slab-shaped face, a wide nose and square jaw like he’d been punched so hard once it stuck like that. Dark hair was visible just under his cap; he wore a full Captain’s uniform, making him out undeniably as the man in charge.
“Special Agent Laura Frost,” she said, showing him her badge. “My partner down below is Special Agent Nathaniel Lavoie. You mind filling me in on what you have so far? The briefing notes didn’t give much away.”
The Captain nodded sharply. Behind him, the man who was dressed in a Sergeant’s jacket folded his arms over his chest, listening and waiting. “The victim would have been brought up here by the killer,” the Captain said. “From the first glance, it looks as though there’s no sign of a struggle, so we’re thinking she was unconscious or tightly restrained at that time.”
“Some work, bringing a second person up those stairs,” Laura said, looking back down the way she had come. The way the stairs had swayed with her weight had hardly been encouraging. The killer would have had to climb without holding onto the handrails to steady themselves, hauling another body at the same time. They wouldn’t have needed to be gentle, but it still wouldn’t have been easy.
“Whoever this bastard is, he’s a strong one,” Captain Blackford agreed. “Over here, there’s a kind of mechanism attached to the platform. Looks like he brought the whole kit and caboodle with him. Attached the platform himself, since it wasn’t here before. Rigged up the hinges to fall at a certain trigger, controlled by a timer. Then he must have hung the rope, right there.”
Laura tilted her head up. Another impressive feat. The rope was high up, too high to reach from the gangway itself. He would have had to erect the platform first, and even then…
“Any machinery brought in here over the last weeks?” Laura asked, trying to picture if there was any other way he could have done it.
Captain Blackford shook his head, but then turned to point into a dusty corner of the warehouse. It was dark in here, even with the light streaming through the windows and the lights the police had set up. The shadows behind the light rigs were thick. “There’s a crane truck with a basket that was left here by the previous owners,” he said. “Gassed up, even though it shouldn’t have been. Wires have been damaged, got it running again. He used that, we think. Lifted himself up there. Could have used it to move her, too, but we don’t think so. The dust on the floor has already covered some of the truck’s tracks.”
Laura followed his pointing finger down to the ground, to an area that looked somewhat scuffed compared to the rest. But he was right. It wasn’t totally clear. Dust had fallen again since the rope and platform had been set up.
There wasn’t much more to see here. But Laura was curi
ous about one thing: what the physical evidence left behind on the victims would tell them.
“Where’s the body?” Laura asked.
“Coroner,” Captain Blackford grunted.
Laura held back on the urge to roll her eyes. “I mean, where is that?” she asked. “We’ve only just got into town, came here straight from the airport. We’ll need directions, or at least an address.”
“I’ll take you there myself,” Blackford said, straightening up slightly. “You two got a car yet?”
Laura nodded. “Rental. You can drive with us. I’d like to ask some questions about the first victim as we go.” She turned towards the stairs, expecting him to follow her. It was only when she looked back with a raised eyebrow that he started to.
Laura was already starting to get a certain feeling from Captain Blackford, one she’d felt before. Although many officials on the ground were glad to get the help of the FBI, sometimes they would come into a case where it was felt as if they were stepping on toes. Taking over in an area where the locals already felt they would have been capable alone.
Though he’d been ostensibly polite enough, answering all her questions, Laura could sense that Captain Blackford was not happy with their presence here. That he resented being told what to do by someone who was outside of his own agency. Someone who, for all intents and purposes, outranked him in this case.
Being a Captain, he probably wasn’t used to being pushed around so much anymore. But it must have been his superiors who’d decided to call in the FBI.
And now he was going to take that out on Laura and Nate.
Fabulous.
So long as he cooperated fully, Laura could take a little attitude, though.
Nate pulled away from conversing with a forensic photographer as Laura approached, nodding his goodbye. He held out a hand towards Captain Blackford, who only gave a moment of sullen hesitation before shaking it.