“Pull over!” She put one hand over her mouth and braced against the dash with the other. She gagged, but thankfully was able to make it outside to the verge before she was sick.
SSA Frazer got out and watched her over the top of the car. “You okay?”
She spat and nodded.
“I’ll em...maybe take a look at the bodies alone.”
“No.” She took her coffee from the cup-holder and swilled out her mouth and spat again. She tossed the rest of the liquid on the brown grass at the side of the road and crumpled the cup in her fist. “I’ll be fine. Just maybe we shouldn’t talk about the possible rape and murder of my nine-year-old sister while we’re in a moving vehicle.”
He nodded and his expression remained blank, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this hadn’t been his intention all along. Shake her up and see what rattled.
Best job in the Bureau.
***
The morgue was situated near the Prince William Campus of George Mason University. In a viewing room off the main autopsy suite, three gurneys had been pulled out and the victims’ bodies were covered by white cloths to preserve some shred of dignity. The room was refrigerator cold and Mallory’s fingers curled into her jacket cuffs trying to eke out a measure of warmth. The strong odor of chemicals clung to her nose as well as something that smelled suspiciously like spoiled meat.
Thankfully her stomach had settled and Frazer had made no more comment.
The Medical Examiner was a tall man who probably weighed two-hundred fifty pounds. When he walked into the room Mallory couldn’t hide her surprise that someone so big managed such delicate work.
“Agent Frazer, Agent Rooney? I’m Dr. Ross Avery.” He shook hands with them both, his skin almost burning hot against the chill of the room. “This is the first woman we examined. Lucy Fairfax, found near Woodstock. They brought her in last May but we only recently identified her when her parents uploaded DNA to the National Database.” Mallory looked down at the long dark hair of the victim. Her face was unrecognizable, skin black and swollen from decomp. Animals had predated the body before she’d been discovered.
“We didn’t get an awful lot from Lucy until we brought in the next victim.” He moved onto the second gurney and pulled back the sheet. “And saw similarities between them. Then I went back and did some comparisons. Kendra McCloud was found July 11th; she went missing at the end of June. They were very alike physically—both five-eight, slim frame, dark-eyed brunettes. Both had been sexually assaulted, both had severe facial trauma, and they’d died from manual asphyxia. This is a very hands-on killer.”
“Toxicology?” Frazer asked, arms crossed over his chest.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. No alcohol, no drugs were obvious in the tissues but the timeframe wasn’t conducive to those kinds of tests. We do know he wipes them down with some sort of disinfectant solution that contains bleach.” Dr. Avery looked up from where he bent over the table. Blue eyes pained. “When Lindsey Keeble arrived I put a rush on her tox panel but it was the same thing. He didn’t subdue them chemically, or if he did it was using something so fast acting there was no trace left in the blood or tissue. But Lindsey did tell me a couple of interesting things that the other victims weren’t able to.” He pulled the sheet back to reveal her feet.
Mallory didn’t know why the sight of silver-painted toenails shocked her so much, but in that moment Lindsey Keeble became a real person. She was a woman who’d sat down one day not long ago and taken the time to make her toes pretty. The knowledge hit her in the throat.
“See the marks on her left ankle?”
She and Frazer both leaned close. There was a series of red abrasions on her lower leg.
“She was shackled?” Frazer asked.
Dr. Ross nodded. “That’s what I’m guessing. Some kind of metal cuff.”
A shudder ran through Mallory. Being chained like an animal. How would that feel? Anger grew. She flashed back to the intruder in her house. It could have been her lying here with her painted toenails on display.
“Any idea how he’s subduing them if he’s not drugging them?” Frazer asked.
The ME nodded. “I missed it at first, but I think I’ve figured it out.” He pushed the sheet up onto Lindsey’s torso and revealed her left side. “See this faint mark?”
Mallory squinted, not really able to see anything against the mottled purple of the body. “Not really.”
“It’s hard to see because of the lividity—the color is indicative of asphyxia—but there are a couple of tiny burn marks hidden there. Image analysis confirms it.”
“Taser,” she said quietly.
Frazer nodded as if it confirmed what he’d already been thinking. Must be nice to be infallible. “Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very helpful.”
“I can release the bodies to the families?”
Frazer’s expression remained as impassive as a mask. “As long as you’ve documented everything you told us today you can release the bodies. The families have waited long enough.”
***
Alex sat on a bench looking at the Giant Pandas. The zoo was only a short distance from his office and this was where he came when he needed to think. He’d spent the weekend watching Mallory work sixteen hour days searching and researching cases similar to her sister’s abduction. It depressed the fuck out of him to see her so driven.
Even if he wasn’t spying on her he wouldn’t have been able to get her out of his damn mind. Friday night’s kiss kept replaying itself in his head. The feeling of anticipation, of gigantic need to finish what they’d started, was like an itch on the inside of his skin. One he didn’t dare scratch. It was driving him crazy wanting her again. He didn’t want to deceive her, or mess with her head, but Christ, the need to be with her, to call her and just frickin’ talk, was almost irresistible. He could help her...
Yeah, she’s suffered enough.
The bench creaked as Jane Sanders sat next to him, wearing a suit that probably cost enough to keep pandas in bamboo for a year. The sun was so bright it blinded him. He squeezed his eyes closed, enjoying the cold sunshine on his face, wishing for the millionth time he could reverse some of the pivotal decisions he’d made in his life. Decisions such as working for the CIA as a private contractor in the naive belief he was saving his fellow Americans.
“The boss is not very pleased with you.”
He opened his eyes. Jane’s hair was loose around her shoulders. Almost white-blonde. For some reason he didn’t hold her in quite so much contempt as he used to. He was getting mellow in his old age. Or getting laid made him less of a bastard. One or the other.
She handed him a photograph. Gerry Rodman, a man he’d been ordered to terminate on Saturday night, raping a boy of about eight years old. He’d refused because he didn’t trust the FBI’s inside man and he didn’t trust her. This little boy had paid the price.
Nausea unfolded in his stomach.
“On the positive side,” Jane spoke lightly, “the cops got an anonymous tip and busted him for supplying drugs to minors and child pornography on his laptop—so he’ll do time. They found a considerable amount of methamphetamine, weapons and cash in his apartment too.” Her smile was cold as a Norwegian fjord. “When these photos are circulated among certain sectors of the prison population...well, the job will get done and no more kids will get hurt.”
He held her gaze as he handed the picture back. Perhaps it was for the best. Prison justice could be more brutal than anything he ever dealt.
“Who called the cops?”
Jane shrugged. She kept her distance on the bench. Although she’d warmed a fraction, she still seemed cold and unreachable, a lot like him. That’s why he was so attracted to Mallory—she wasn’t anything like him. She was vivacious and warm, and holding her in his arms felt like trying to hold on to sunshine.
“I traced the anonymous tipster in the Meacher investigation,” he told her.
She stretched out her toes in her fancy ope
n-toe heels. “Who was it?”
“It came from your phone.”
“What?” Her eyes flashed electric blue, blood drained from her face. “What did you say?”
“The anonymous tip came from your phone.”
She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
He assessed her lazily. Would she betray the organization? Maybe. For the right price. “So you’re saying it wasn’t you?”
Her features were stark, etched with fear. “I know what happens if you get caught. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Jail is the least of your worries.” She took it as a threat and her whole body quivered. Alex didn’t like being the monster but that was his role in this nightmare. “Was your phone out of your sight at all that evening?”
She started to shake her head but stopped. “I leave it on my desk when I use the ladies’ room.”
“Because?”
The pale column of her throat rippled with a swallow. “I’m worried you’ll spy on me.”
“I’m not a pervert.”
Her eyes flashed. “And I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“I don’t go around spying on women unless I am instructed to do so by our boss. Don’t leave your phone unattended else we’re both going to end up regretting it.” The powers-that-be wouldn’t give him or Jane the chance to turn State’s evidence. She’d be lucky to last twenty-four hours in jail.
Thankfully he had a pretty good idea who’d made the call and why. Maybe this whole mess wasn’t so much sabotage as bad timing and piss poor judgment.
“Whoever your inside guy is at the FBI they need to take more care with communications. One fuck-up is acceptable, but another...he’ll answer to me.” He felt beyond tired. Hell, maybe he just needed a vacation—a couple of weeks of peace, quiet, hot sand and cold surf. A man could dream. What he really needed was to quit, but he’d made a commitment. Five hundred and twenty-eight days left. No chance of parole.
She cleared her throat. “The boss was wondering if there had been any developments regarding that other matter with certain federal interests?”
Alex flashed to lace-edged stockings and sex against a door. “It’s under control.”
They sat quietly for another moment. A little girl ran past, the mother or nanny in hot pursuit. Jane flinched. Alex pretended not to notice. “Does this mean you’re going back to work or are you still on hiatus?”
His instincts were telling him something didn’t feel right. “I think we need to cool things down for a little while,” he said. “Change things up a bit.”
“Are you breaking up with me, Mr. Parker?” She managed to hold his gaze.
“No, but we should spend some time apart and enjoy other people’s company for a few weeks. Unless something urgent comes up.” By urgent he meant irrefutable proof of the identity of a serial killer who was an imminent threat to life.
She played with the bottom hem of her skirt which rested across her knees. “Actually the boss wants me to,” she pursed her lips for a moment before continuing, “persuade a friend of yours to go on a date.”
“A friend of mine?” Then he swore. “You are not messing with Lucas Randall’s head.”
“He might be our best way of accessing information on the Meacher inquiry.”
“Are you supposed to fuck him too?”
She blinked like an owl. “I hardly think you’re in any position to lecture me, Alex.”
He raised his brow at the fact she’d finally had the balls to address him by name. Did she know about his night with Mallory or was she referring to his general duties for the organization? He didn’t know and didn’t care. He did care about his friends though. And he cared about Mallory and that was why he wouldn’t call her again no matter how much he wanted to.
He leaned close to Jane’s ear, watching the pulse at the bottom of her throat jump in response to his proximity.
“Right now the Meacher investigation is going nowhere. But if you hurt Lucas Randall, in any way, I will turn on you and this organization faster than you can say Senate Inquiry.” He held her wide, blue gaze. “Do we understand one another?”
She nodded and he kissed her. A man saying goodbye to a former lover. Her lips were cold and he was unmoved.
“Watch out, Alex,” she called out as he walked away. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
CHAPTER TEN
Mallory and Frazer got to Greenville just after lunch. Viewing the bodies hadn’t upset her stomach as much as Frazer’s earlier insensitivity. Given who he was and what he did, she had a hard time thinking he hadn’t planned that attack to judge her reaction and put her off her game.
Not that she had much game.
The town was familiar to her. When she’d been a little girl, coming to Greenville had been a major adventure. They’d come for Fourth of July parades and ice cream sodas. The local sheriff’s office was situated on Main Street opposite an old-fashioned cinema that she and Payton had occasionally visited. The smell of popcorn wafting across the street brought with it vivid memories, and she could almost hear her sister’s unrestrained giggles. Sadness filtered through her but she ignored the onslaught. She was here to work, not reminisce. She followed Frazer into the atrium of the sheriff’s office, aware of several pairs of eyes watching her closely.
“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Frazer and this is Special Agent Rooney, we’re here to see Sheriff Williams,” Frazer told the deputy at the desk.
“You with the FBI?” The accent was pure sweet West Virginia and sent a little quiver of home right down to Mallory’s toes.
“Yes, ma’am.” Frazer used his charm on the deputy.
It sure as hell would be lost on her from now on. She’d figured out over the last few hours that the reason he’d asked her to accompany him was so he’d be able to interrogate her in private for the duration of the journey. His suspicion of her had raised her suspicions of him, although it would take more than a few hours in a car to trip up a man as intelligent as Frazer.
Heck, she didn’t even know his first name.
Sheriff Williams came out of his office and sized them up before coming over to meet them. A deputy interrupted just as they were shaking hands. “Road Traffic Accident out on Highway 3 involving a school bus, Sheriff. No passengers at the time. Both drivers have minor injuries.”
The sheriff’s mustache bristled over a full top lip. “Ray James the bus driver?”
“Yeah.” The deputy was tall with almost military bearing. His glance kept sliding toward her like she was some kind of curiosity. It was natural that people here recognized her, from both the recent article in The Post and her mother’s yearly TV campaign. She feigned ignorance and stared at the wanted posters on the wall.
“Make sure you get a blood sample from them both, Deputy Chance. If that sonofagun James has been drinking on the job I want to know it. The safety of the children in this county are my priority, I don’t care who the man’s uncle is.”
“Yes, sir.” The deputy strode away.
Mallory jerked her gaze back to the sheriff who was watching her carefully. He nodded stiffly and then led them to a conference room at the back of the building.
Her phone rang. She checked the number and saw Lucas Randall was calling her. She let it go to voice mail.
The sheriff planted himself at the head of the table and indicated they take a seat. “If you don’t mind me saying, Agent Rooney, it’s good to see you again after all these years. I remember you as a little girl.”
Apparently it was going to be a day of reminiscence after all. She nodded, conscious of Frazer staring at her with that dissecting gaze of his, waiting for her to screw up.
“The law enforcement community in Greenville was always very good to me and my family, Sheriff. I appreciate everything you did.” Her mother still harbored a great deal of resentment toward law enforcement for not solving the case but she wasn’t about to bring that up.
He blinked back a tear. “Well,
we were all shaken up by what happened to your sister. Nothing like that ever happened since that we know of. Closest we’ve come is this poor girl, Lindsey Keeble. The cases aren’t even remotely similar, but we’re seeing the same kind of panic within the community. Not that I blame folk.”
What if it was the same guy?
The idea tugged at her mind.
“What can you tell us about the victim, Sheriff? Did she have a boyfriend?” Frazer led the questioning.
“No boyfriend. All her classmates say she was determined to make something of herself and didn’t have time for dating. She was a good kid. Smart, worked hard, earning money to pay her way through college.”
“How long had she been working at the gas station?”
“She started there in the fall. Her dad said it was the only thing she could find that still let her go to school but didn’t involve a bar.”
“She objected to alcohol?”
“Her mother was a drunk who spent most of Lindsey’s young life inside the local taverns.” The sheriff’s face pinched. “She died a few years back. Exposure. Got caught in a blizzard too drunk to find her way home.” He looked up. “I think it was a blessing for the rest of the family.”
“Now there’s just the father?”
The sheriff nodded. “Bryce Keeble.”
Mallory’s eyes widened and the sheriff caught her expression. “Remember him?”
“Vaguely.” She nodded.
“He worked as a handyman on your parents’ estate.”
“He was questioned and cleared of any wrongdoing in regards to Payton Rooney, correct?” said Frazer.
The sheriff nodded and looked uncomfortable as he spoke to her. “Your mother sacked him anyway. I know losing his job hit the Keeble family hard because it was around the same time Lindsey was born and he struggled to find work.”
Oh, Mom. Mallory splayed her fingers on top of the desk. “Payton’s disappearance hit us all hard, Sheriff, but particularly my mother. She didn’t always make rational choices.” Something her political enemies would love to use against her.
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