by CJ Lyons
“Wouldn’t a toxin have showed up in my other tests?”
“Nicotine has a short half-life. It would have already been out of your system by the time your doctors ordered any toxicology tests. Plus, they would have had to ask the lab to look for nicotine specifically.”
“C’mon, Risa. One more test, you can do it,” Jack urged, taking her arm as she tried to push out of the chair. “I’ll help you get dressed.”
Risa’s phone chimed. They all pivoted to where it sat on the table. “Unknown number,” Risa read from the screen, her voice barely above a whisper. Leah handed her the phone and they all gathered around it as Risa began the screen recording app Ian had installed for her. Even with it, Leah was glad that the police were watching everything that came through Risa’s phone and computer.
Then Risa tapped the message.
It was a video. Although the timestamp showed that it was being livestreamed, the location was dark; eerie shades of grey and white appeared to be reflections on rushing water. Then the image shifted, and a white blur shaped like a body slowly came into focus. It was a man, naked, gagged and bound, lying on his stomach, hogtied, his limbs contorted behind him.
At first Leah thought he was dead. But then water surged around him, the small space he was confined in filling fast. He kicked against his bonds, struggling to lift his torso higher out of the water. Already, in the few seconds the video had gone live, water seeped several inches up his thighs. He thrashed, his head colliding with some unseen obstacle, forcing him to remain bent in an unnatural position, his face hidden from the camera.
At the corner of the screen was a countdown clock. It had twenty-nine minutes and fourteen seconds remaining. Thirteen, twelve…
Then another chime as a text appeared.
Ready for the endgame? Be the hero I know you were in the beginning. Save him. Your devoted, Chaos.
Thirty-Two
Before Krichek could begin to detail his efforts to locate Dominic Massimo, Luka’s phone buzzed, as did Krichek’s and McKinley’s. Luka peered at his phone. A group text from Sanchez, the cyber tech.
Livestream intercepted. New victim. Still alive.
Both he and Krichek were halfway out the door before he realized Ahearn was shouting his name. Luka gestured for Krichek to go and then turned around.
“Sir, I might be of assistance—” he started, desperate to be allowed to be involved in the case in some way.
“Background only,” the commander growled. “And everything goes through McKinley.”
Good enough. Luka could interpret “background” to mean almost anything—exactly why Ahearn had phrased it that way. Luka didn’t wait for the elevator but dashed down the steps toward the cyber squad’s basement offices. He wondered why Ahearn didn’t want to see for himself, and realized if things went south the commander would have plausible deniability by distancing himself. For a moment he almost pitied McKinley, who would bear the brunt of any backlash, but then he focused fully on the task at hand.
“Fill me in,” Luka said once he’d caught up with Krichek. Last they spoke, Krichek had still been waiting for vital information on Vogel’s background last night. Especially his military service record: Vogel hadn’t been in the army as Chaos had claimed to have been, but had served in the navy. Despite automation, databases under the control of government entities still required humans to query them and release the results, which meant waiting.
Krichek was talking on his phone as they continued their jog down the stairs but quickly hung up. “No reported sightings of Vogel. Talked to people at his old address, nothing there. Best we can tell he’s been living in his office at the Falconer last few months. No wants, no warrants, never been in any trouble. Tenants at the Falconer say he’s a bit slow but friendly; they talk like he’s as much a part of the building as the light fixtures—essential but invisible.”
“Did we get his service record yet?”
“No. I put a rush on the request.” Not that that meant much to the military.
“Has Vogel ever lived or worked near Lewisburg?”
“No. He’s been here in Cambria City for the past eleven years, working at the Falconer. We haven’t been able to trace anything before that. I’m hoping his military records will fill in the gaps.”
They arrived at the basement level that housed the cyber squad, the PD’s gym and indoor firing range, along with the records department. Sanchez was anxiously awaiting their arrival. “I don’t know what to do,” he greeted them in a breathless tone as they dashed through the maze of empty workstations to a large video screen. “I can’t find—”
Luka pulled up short at the image filling the screen. A man, naked, hog-tied in a narrow, enclosed and darkened space with water rushing in from below. His face was in shadows but his scalp appeared to be shaved. His shoulders contorted in pain as he fought against his restraints. A countdown below him read: twenty-seven minutes, three seconds.
“Any way you can trace the camera feed?” Luka asked.
“No. I’ve been trying everything.” Sanchez sank into the chair behind a computer monitor, his gaze fixated on his keyboard. “Damn it!”
“Take a breath,” Luka instructed as his phone rang. He handed it to Krichek to deal with. “Tell me what you do know.”
“It’s been re-routed and bounced around the globe and back. There’s no GIS info either so we can’t use that to pinpoint the location.”
Krichek held out Luka’s phone. “I’ve got Dr. Wright. She’s with Risa Saliba and Jack O’Brien, watching on Saliba’s phone.”
Luka took his phone back as McKinley burst into the room. He quickly assessed the situation and nodded to Luka. The ERT commander was smart enough to let Luka do his job—McKinley had never worked investigations.
“Leah, do either of them recognize the man?” Luka was pretty sure he did, but the night vision camera in the dark trunk revealed too little detail for him to be certain.
“Risa is certain it’s Dominic Massimo. We just tried to call him and he’s not answering.”
“Okay. Hang on in case I need you.” He turned to Sanchez. “See if you can track Dominic Massimo’s cell. Krichek, get Harper and some uniforms over to his hotel room.”
“McKinley, that look like a car trunk to you?” Damn image was so dark, it was difficult to make out background details. “Look at how the metal curves.”
“Yeah, I’d say American, large sedan. Hard to tell more from this angle.”
“What’s Vogel drive?” Luka asked Krichek.
“2004 Honda Civic.”
McKinley squinted at the image. “Too big for a Honda. What’s Massimo drive?”
“Hang on a moment.” Krichek pulled up the information from the NCIC database. “Black Town Car.”
“Bingo,” McKinley breathed, bouncing on his toes, ready for action. He was texting on his phone, no doubt calling his team in.
Luka had a sinking feeling they wouldn’t be needed. The countdown kept ticking, relentless. Twenty-two forty-one. A shudder raced down his spine.
“Pull up the VIN info on Massimo’s car,” he instructed Sanchez. “Contact whatever navigation service he uses and see if we can ping the car for a GPS location.”
“On it.” Krichek dialed his phone.
Luka paced between the workstations, thinking about the text sent to Risa. The killer’s last message had been addressed to Risa but was meant for Luka—could this one be as well? If so, then Chaos had to be referencing the beginning of everything: Cherise’s death.
“Krichek, who have you been coordinating with in Lewisburg PD? We need them to send everyone they have to search along River Road, but focus on the area across from the sewer plant first. That’s where they found Cherise.”
“I’ve got the State Police Troop F’s commander on speed dial,” McKinley volunteered, dialing his own phone. Leaving Luka with nothing to do but watch and wait, trying to send telepathic messages of hope to the struggling, terrified man. His first imp
ression of Dominic Massimo hadn’t been favorable, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die.
“Why Dom?” he wondered. His phone rang. Harper.
“Boss.” She sounded out of breath. “Massimo’s room shows signs of a struggle and his car is missing from the hotel garage.”
“Call in the crime scene techs and start reviewing any security footage they have.”
“Staties are mobilizing, but they’re at least fifteen out,” McKinley said. “Are we sure we’re sending them to the right place?”
“It’s where he killed Cherise,” Luka said through gritted teeth. “Why repeat his MO if not to send a message?”
“Except the message wasn’t to you, it was to Saliba.” Krichek nodded to the text. “Is there some place near here where she was a hero? Or maybe she should’ve been a hero but wasn’t? Something personal to her?”
Luka grimaced—he should have thought of that himself, but he’d been too caught up in memories of Cherise’s death. He raised his phone only to hear Leah repeating Krichek’s question to Risa. A few moments later she came back on the line. “Risa says no. She can’t think of anything that might fit. There’s also nothing to tie her to any specific location in Pennsylvania. She only moved here after she got sick, barely knows anyone here other than Jack and her neighbors and doctors.”
“Thanks,” Luka told her, grateful at how thorough she’d been. The countdown passed nineteen minutes. “Listen, if this gets close—”
“I’ve taken the phone from her so she can’t watch,” Leah assured him. “She didn’t like it—she’s a reporter, said she’s seen worse.”
“Not the same, believe me. Stay on the line.” He turned to Sanchez. “Can you tap into any traffic cameras over in Lewisburg? Especially along the river?” Luka doubted there were many. Outside of downtown and campus, the area around Lewisburg was rural, similar to Cambria City, with few homes and businesses. Plus, the riverbank was steep and forested—a car in the water could easily be missed from the road.
As he waited, the countdown continued. The water was now surging up to the man’s chest and Luka feared the time on the clock might be an overestimation of how long he had left. The man was thrashing, rocking his body side to side, obviously fighting to free his hands. But still the water kept coming and the seconds kept ticking away.
“Leah,” he said into his phone. “Who’s there with you?”
“Just Risa and Jack.”
“You were there with both of them when the video went live?”
“Yes.” Giving both Risa and Jack alibis. And Walt couldn’t have done it; he was still in the hospital’s locked neuro-psych ward. Which left Vogel as their main suspect. The man must be a brilliant actor, was all Luka could think. “Ask them if they ever saw Cliff and Dom interacting.”
Nothing about this case felt right. He was missing something. What had the message said? Endgame… hero… beginning. That all pointed to Cherise and how she died. Except Luka never really had a chance to be a hero for her, never had a chance to save her.
Leah eventually replied, “Jack says he saw Dom and Cliff arguing a few weeks ago. I guess Risa had given Dom a key to the Falconer so she wouldn’t need to buzz him up every time he visited and Cliff didn’t like the idea. Said keys were for residents and immediate family only. Jack didn’t catch it all, but he heard Dom threaten to get Cliff fired.” She lowered her voice. “Do you really think that’s Dom in the car?”
“His hotel room showed signs of a struggle and his car is gone.”
Her tone turned grim. “Luka, you need to tell the searchers, if he’s in the river, the water will be cold, might buy us some time. They can’t give up.”
Luka relayed the message to the others.
Sanchez and Krichek called out reports as they came in, but it was all bad news. The clock passed eleven minutes. Despite his best efforts, the water was up to the man’s shoulders. “Leah?”
“I’m here.”
“Any thoughts why this guy thinks Risa could save Dom? Beyond her knowing him? I mean, ‘be the hero I know you were,’ that sounds very personal and specific.”
Leah paused. “Maybe to torture her? He blames her that he has to change his plans because of the police investigation of Trudy’s death. Maybe he wants her to feel guilty if Dom dies?”
“If so, then—”
“It’s not just Risa he’s upset with. It’s you as well. He knew Risa’s electronics would be monitored, knew she’d call you right away even if they weren’t. I think it’s all a show. Designed to demonstrate his power over Risa but more importantly—”
“His power over me,” Luka said in a grim tone. “That message. It’s not just to me, it’s about me. Not Cherise. A hero in the beginning— Hang on…” He turned to McKinley. “Get everyone you can out to the wharf.”
“What wharf? Here in Cambria City?”
“Pier three—no, no, pier four.” Luka closed his eyes, straining to remember. He’d just finished his field training, was only days patrolling solo. “Sanchez can you pull that area up on the screen?”
The tech tapped his keyboard and a Google Earth image appeared. “It was fourteen years ago,” Luka said, scrutinizing the image. “A college kid OD’d outside a warehouse on the wharf. His friends thought he was dead and ditched him. I found him, gave him Narcan, but while we were waiting for the medics, he freaked out, jumped into the water. Almost drowned. I had to fish him out.” He pointed to the spot on the image. “Here. Right here. First time I had my picture in the paper.” First time anyone called him a hero.
“Pull up any CCTV from that area,” McKinley ordered as he called his team.
“Just a few traffic cams, but they’re over a block away,” Sanchez said. “This is the best I can do.” The image shifted, revealing the street that ran along the wharf, but no clear image of the pier. “Wait. Let me scan the recent traffic.”
On the screen the man still struggled, fighting to keep his head above the water. It crept up his neck, relentless.
“How could he get a car onto the pier and dump it in the river with no one seeing?” Krichek asked. “It may be Saturday, but there are still workers down there and it’s broad daylight. Someone would have seen something.”
“Nothing on traffic cams in the area,” Sanchez put in. “No black Town Cars down there anytime this morning.”
Damn. Another wild goose chase. Luka turned away. He’d failed, just like he’d failed Cherise. All he could do was act as a futile witness.
The car lurched, the water surging. There were still three minutes on the clock when the water lapped up over the camera lens and the screen went black.
Thirty-Three
Luka couldn’t remember ever feeling so useless. McKinley and his men were out searching, Sanchez had called in his fellow techs to analyze every frame of the video as well as Risa’s electronics, while Krichek was coordinating the various warrants they’d need along with maintaining communication with all the jurisdictions now involved in the search for Dominic Massimo.
“Luka? Are they close? Any word?” Leah asked. He’d almost forgotten she was still on the phone line.
“Nothing, no sightings. They’re widening the search. I should have known he wouldn’t make it easy, use the same spot where Cherise—” As Luka glanced around the room at the men busy trying to save a stranger’s life, he realized that maybe he was the one who stood at a distance. As if a sudden chasm separated the rest of the world from him. He’d had this feeling before. After Cherise died.
“Maybe when the car lurched the water rose where the camera was but lowered on his side?” Leah suggested, pulling his focus back to the here and now. “If there was an air pocket, he could still be alive. They aren’t giving up, are they?”
“No. McKinley has his men searching here and the staties and guys over in Lewisburg will keep looking there as well. But there’s a lot of rivers, streams, lakes to cover and it’s starting to feel like he’s leading us on a wild goose chase.”
“Which means he’s loving all this. Probably has a police scanner, is following what you’re doing,” Leah said, the frustration filling her voice matching his own.
“McKinley is sending Harper over with a warrant for all of Risa’s electronics and a full search of her apartment. She’ll need to come in for an interview. Make sure she doesn’t try to play Nancy Drew and hold out on us, will you?”
“After that video, believe me, she wants to help,” Leah reassured him. “What if the killer comes after her? Can you place her in protective custody or something?”
“No. Sorry. We don’t have the budget for that. Not unless she wants to camp out in my office, since I’m not using it for the duration. How’s she doing?”
“She was sick all night—it sounds like nicotine poisoning to me. I’d like to take her to the ER to be tested.”
How the hell could someone have reached Risa last night? Luka wondered. Vogel had been long gone by then. Krichek and Harper had searched the apartment, removed the two cameras they’d found, and hadn’t found any other surveillance equipment, plus there had been patrolmen inside the Falconer all night. Maybe the poison had already been inside the apartment? He made a note to have the techs test Risa’s food once they got the search warrant. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, pretty much all the symptoms are gone now.”
“Go ahead, get her tested and checked out. But make it quick. Stay with her, document everything. I’ll talk to McKinley, see if he’ll let you take the lead with her interview. She’ll respond to you better than him.”
Leah hung up, leaving Luka with nothing to do other than to think, to try to gain perspective and see where they’d gone wrong. Sanchez and the other techs ignored him as he continued to pace the cramped cyber squad quarters, but every time he caught a glimpse of footage of the trapped man replaying on their screens, it only frustrated him more, so he finally fled outside where he’d have room to think.