by Nancy Mehl
Although they were both hopeful they could find their target quickly, it would probably be a long, boring night. They were watching for a man Omaha suspected was one of the leaders of the cartel that was distributing heroin laced with fentanyl. In the past few years, heroin had become a major problem in the United States. Getting it over the border was too easy, and several cartels had taken advantage of that. Agencies in Washington were working hard to cut the flow of the dangerous drug, but dealing with politicians made it tough to get something done. It was frustrating.
Noah opened the car door and got in. “Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
Kaely shook her head. “I’ll do it. Maybe you can drive back.”
“Oh, I see. I get to drive after we’ve been up all night. I suppose you’ll be sleeping on the way back.”
“You make me sound so . . . devious.”
“You? Heavens no.” Noah shook his head as he put the satchel he’d slung over his shoulder on the floor between his legs. He smiled as he opened it. He pulled out a thermos. “Lots of hot coffee for tonight. I also brought some snacks for the trip. Brownies. Fruit.” He looked at her. “I went to the grocery store down the street when I got up this morning.”
Kaely stared at him with raised eyebrows. “Wow, I’m impressed.”
The snow began to get a little heavier, but she was confident they could get in front of it. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, the roads were clear.
“So what do you think our arsonist will do next?” Noah asked.
“He’s made himself known. He’s not going to stop. There will be another fire. Soon.”
“You think the sheriff can handle it?”
Kaely looked out the window. She still hadn’t met the man. “I wish we could bring CIRG in on this.” The FBI’s Critical Incident Response Group brought together some of the best investigative tools available in the world. Kaely was curious to see if there had been similar fires in other places. That information could be invaluable. She would love to have the envelope and letter from Jack looked at by the FBI’s lab. The police were dusting for prints, but the FBI could find much, much more. There was also a communication database that could look for comparisons to the letter. Kaely sighed loudly out of frustration.
“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Noah asked.
“I want to use the best resources available to find this jerk.”
Noah was quiet for a moment. “I have confidence in you. You are the best resource available. You’ll find him.”
Kaely glanced over at him. “You’re not getting my share of the brownies if that’s what this is about.”
Noah shrugged. “Well, I tried.”
Kaely laughed. A comfortable silence settled in the car as they drove toward North Platte. Even though she loved being with Noah, she felt a little unsettled around him. He had a way of keeping her off-center. Out of control.
They arrived in North Platte around five thirty and found a restaurant not far from the local FBI resident agency. After checking in with Omaha to let them know they were in town, they sat down to dinner and quietly went over their assignment. They were looking for a Miguel Guzman. He’d crossed the border illegally four years ago and disappeared. Omaha considered him a kingpin in the cartel—not the man in charge, but high enough in the ranks to be dangerous. The FBI suspected that Guzman was arranging transportation for the drugs. He was also known as an enforcer who was ready and willing to kill for his leaders.
Tonight the FBI was going to be watching an apartment complex where a woman named Rosa Martinez lived. It was believed that she and Guzman had split up a few months back, but the FBI had just learned that Guzman was seen with Rosa at a club a week ago. Agents assigned to the case wondered if Guzman might be trying to hide their relationship, which could mean Rosa knew more about his operations than they’d realized. Guzman undoubtedly wouldn’t want the Feds to talk to her.
Even though Kaely and Noah’s main target was Guzman, they’d also be monitoring all other traffic in and out of the apartment complex. There were at least six known MS-13 gang members living there. The local office had provided Kaely and Noah with photos of all the players as well as a list of vehicles registered to Guzman and Rosa. In addition, they’d given them additional information about other known gang members and their associates who might be involved directly with Guzman.
While they ate, Kaely checked her phone. Sure enough, Darkwater was being hit with a storm that could dump up to six inches of snow.
“We may need to stay here tonight,” Noah said, as if reading her mind.
“Let’s wait for morning. See what the roads are like,” she said. “If there’s a possibility we can get back, I’d like to give it a try. Jason’s pretty unhappy with me.”
“Sorry you’re going through this,” Noah said. “I can see how tough it is on you.”
“What my mother’s going through is worse.”
“Yeah, I get that. Doesn’t make this easier though, does it?”
Kaely sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”
After finishing dinner, they ordered dessert and talked awhile. Around seven, they left the restaurant and drove over to the North Platte office. They checked in and spent a couple of hours poring through files and being briefed about the assignment. Then SSA Paul Turner, the agent in charge of the operation, introduced Noah and Kaely to the other agents who would be hiding around the corner from the complex, waiting for a signal should they spot Rosa or Guzman. It was important that everyone meet so no one would accidentally get shot by friendly fire. Not recognizing fellow agents could have serious consequences. Kaely noticed that one member of their team seemed especially uptight. She found it odd since there was no way to predict if their suspects would show up. This would probably be a long, boring night.
At ten thirty, Kaely and Noah were taken to a locker room, where they put on their bulletproof vests. After that they were led out to the parking lot where Special Agent Mark Fisher waited for them with a beat-up old van. He would drive them to their surveillance spot, then get out and walk away, leaving Noah and Kaely locked inside, hidden in the back. The van had specially tinted windows so they could see out but no one could see in.
Noah and Kaely climbed into the van and took their positions. They each had a place to sit, along with binoculars, cameras with long-distance lenses, notebooks for handwritten notes, and cell phones to communicate with other surveillance team members. Thankfully, there was a battery-operated heater that would keep them warm since the van wouldn’t be running.
Fisher drove them to the neighborhood where they’d spend the next four hours. It had been described as sketchy, but that was probably a notch above the truth. Kaely wondered why the girlfriend of a guy rolling in drug money would live in a complex like this. It didn’t make much sense and made her wonder if they were wasting their time. If Rosa Martinez was still seeing Guzman, he’d probably have her stashed somewhere nice or wherever he was currently holed up. Since the FBI had no idea where that was, they could only go back to the last place they knew she’d lived. And that was at this apartment complex.
Once they were parked, Fisher pointed out the location of the other surveillance vehicles parked down the street. Then he got out and walked away. After he left, Noah said, “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about this piece of junk being stolen. No one’s that desperate.”
“That’s the point,” Kaely said. “Being carjacked could definitely cause us some problems.”
Kaely and Noah settled in, but Kaely’s thoughts weren’t on Guzman or Rosa. She was thinking about the arsonist in Darkwater.
Was he planning a fire right now? While they were sitting in this van, waiting for someone who might never come? Was someone else in Darkwater getting ready to die?
eighteen
Tonight he doesn’t need a space heater to hide his genius. The heaters have served their purpose. Besides, now the authorities know him. They are watching for him. But they wil
l never find him. He’s too smart. Under the cover of snow, he makes his way to the back of the small frame house. It only takes a few moments to pour the gasoline around the foundation. He takes out his lighter and laughs softly. Seconds from now, the beast will rise again, no match for the snow. No match for those who think they can stop him.
He hesitates, not wanting to move too quickly. After all, this is a sacred moment. A memorial to what went before and what is to come.
In the dark, the snow whirling around him, he whispers, “‘Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick. Jack jump high, Jack jump low, Jack jumped over and burned his toe.’” Under his breath, he speaks one more thing. His mantra. His reason for existing. He takes a deep breath and says, “319 Harbor Lane.”
Then he clicks the lighter.
When the call came, Tuck swore under his breath. Not another one. What would it take to stop this scumbag trying to destroy his town?
Tuck called the station and found out that an engine and a ladder company were on the way. He gave the order that other volunteers be called in as well. He realized he wasn’t that far from the fire, so he turned on the siren in his squad car and headed to the scene, praying that no one would die this time.
As their surveillance entered its third hour, Kaely was feeling stiff. The only people going in and out of the apartment complex were two teenagers who appeared to be sneaking in after curfew and an obviously inebriated couple probably walking home from a nearby bar.
Kaely moved the small sliding door that was built into the partition that separated the front seats from the back of the van. It was there so they could get clear pictures. She studied the couple through the camera Omaha had provided. The long-distance lens clearly showed the faces of the couple. Not Rosa. Not Guzman. She snapped a few pictures just in case. She closed the door and shook her head at Noah, who called the agent supervising the assignment to let him know the couple wasn’t their targets.
Kaely stretched, trying to get comfortable. She took a bottle of water from the cooler next to her. They’d been provided everything they needed to do the job. All in all, she couldn’t complain, but sitting for this long wasn’t her style.
Noah seemed to be doing okay. He hung up the cell phone and looked over at her. “Are you staring at me?”
“Kind of. Just thinking.”
He frowned. “About?”
“About the arson case. Not sure we should talk about it now though. We need to concentrate on this assignment.” She turned her head to watch the building through the darkened window on the side of the van. They had a clear view of the apartments.
“As long as we’re doing our job, I don’t see why we can’t talk a little. I’m not going to get distracted.”
“Okay.” Kaely set the camera on her lap and picked up the water bottle she’d left next to her on the floor. “Most serial arsonists use unsophisticated methods to set fires. The usual motive is some kind of revenge or a desire to feel powerful, in control.”
“I thought some of these guys just set fires because it excites them,” Noah said.
Kaely nodded. “That’s true in a few cases.” She turned to look at him. “But their main motivation is anger caused by something that happened to them.” She shook her head, then went back to watching the apartment complex. “But this guy . . . he’s sophisticated. When he started, he broke into homes. He seemed to know if the owners had space heaters. How? And what about the house without a space heater? Was there something important about that house? Why would he add a heater?” She shrugged. “Or are we on the wrong track? Could our arsonist have a beef with the fire department?”
She sighed. “So many avenues of investigation.” She chewed her lip for a moment, thinking. “And then when it becomes public that the last fire wasn’t caused by an arsonist, he comes out and writes a letter to the fire chief.” Kaely closed her eyes for a moment and wrapped her arms around the camera. Finally she said, “If he followed normal patterns, he would have stopped setting fires by now. He should be afraid of getting caught. But instead he decides to make himself known. Why?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions I can’t answer.”
Kaely was quiet for a moment, trying to get into the arsonist’s head. “This guy’s different, Noah. He’s on some kind of mission. He’s not going to stop until he accomplishes what he’s set out to do.”
“Then we need to stop him.”
“We have to talk to the sheriff, Josh Brotton. We can’t work this case the way we need to without his assistance.”
“Whatever happens, I don’t want them pulling this away from us,” Noah said. “I know that sounds selfish, but I really want to find this guy.”
“We’re on the same wavelength.”
Noah started to say something but stopped when a car pulled up across the street. They turned to watch the driver get out and walk toward the apartment complex. Kaely opened the sliding door and raised the camera.
“It’s Rosa,” she said. “She’s alone.”
Kaely took several pictures as they watched Rosa heading toward her apartment. Suddenly, three men walked out of the complex. It was only at the last second Kaely realized one of them had a gun in his hand. She called for backup at the same time she headed toward the back door of the van, weapon drawn.
From behind her she heard Noah call out her name. Then he grabbed her and pulled her down to the floor as bullets began to fly, hitting the glass window and piercing the side of the van.
Noah covered Kaely with his body, making it hard for her to breathe. It seemed like forever before the shots stopped.
nineteen
Kaely and Noah gathered with the rest of the team at the North Platte office. SSA Turner was furious.
“Anyone want to explain what just happened?” Turner thundered. They were all sitting in chairs in a room that appeared to be used for training. “Rosa Martinez is dead. Two of our agents are in the hospital, and we’ve got three dead gangbangers.”
He was met with silence, which seemed to make his already red face darken more. Noah was afraid the guy was going to stroke out.
No one said anything, but they all knew the truth. There was a rat somewhere. Someone had told Guzman about the operation. It might not be someone in this group. There were other people who knew about the operation. Without some kind of evidence, there wasn’t any way to know who’d been working with Guzman.
“Months and months of preliminary work just got flushed down the toilet.” Turner glared at the men and women who sat silently, watching him. “I’m gonna find out what happened, believe me. If any of you know something, you’d better find me before I come looking for you. This operation is shut down for now. Get out of here. You’ll be contacted for reassignment.” He pointed toward Noah and Kaely. “Special Agents Quinn and Hunter. You stay. I want to talk to you.”
Noah glanced over at Kaely, who seemed to be interested in something on the other side of the room. He nudged her. “Did you hear Turner? He wants to talk to us.”
She turned to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I heard.”
They waited in their chairs until the room cleared. Turner stared at them as they got up and approached him. Noah couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it made his stomach tighten with apprehension.
Turner waited until the door closed as the last agent left. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “But you’re on suspension pending an investigation.”
Noah’s mouth dropped open. “I . . . I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand.”
“I know every agent that was in this room, but I don’t know you.”
“You think we’re working with Guzman?” Noah choked out. “That doesn’t make sense. We don’t even know him. We’re not from here.”
“Guzman has long tentacles,” Turner said darkly. “He could have easily gotten to you. Money talks. Maybe he bribed you.” He scowled at Noah. “Where were you after the shooting started? Why didn’t you get out of the van and c
onfront those gangbangers?”
“We couldn’t. We were in the line of fire. Besides, by the time we could have exited, backup had arrived and was already confronting the shooters.” Noah glanced at Kaely. “It was my call, sir. If we made a mistake, I take full responsibility.”
“I think Agent Quinn was capable of making her own decisions, Agent Hunter.” He pointed his finger in Noah’s face. “I’ll find out the truth, trust me. And if you had anything to do with this, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison. Do you hear me, Special Agent?” He spat out the last two words as if they were pieces of rancid food he wanted out of his mouth as quickly as possible.
Noah realized that Kaely hadn’t said a word. He looked down at her, wondering why she was so quiet.
But when she finally spoke, he wished she hadn’t.
“I might know who your corrupt agent is, sir,” she said.
Noah had to bite his lip to keep from telling her to shut up.
“I believe you’re aware I was trained as a behavioral analyst?” she continued.
Turner didn’t respond. He just stared at her icily.
“It’s not a perfect science,” Kaely said, “but sometimes we can analyze people’s reactions. It helps to see into their minds.”
“And?”
“I observed several behaviors by one of your people that caused me some concern. I’m not saying he’s Guzman’s person on the inside, but I believe you need to look at him closely.”
Noah wanted to grab Kaely’s arm and drag her out of that room. At this point he was hoping Turner wouldn’t remove his weapon and dispose of them right there.
“So who do you think betrayed the Bureau?” Turner asked Kaely in a low, tight voice.