by Blink, Bob
As usual after one of these things, Jake had certain doubts. As a soldier he had been taught to kill when necessary, but his activities the past five years had been very different than the type of killing that came with combat. He knew he was saving innocents, but the taking of lives sometimes weighed on him. The count was now fifteen individuals. Thirteen men and two women who he had surprised and killed before they could commit some act that would have resulted in mass killings. He knew instinctively that what he was doing was right, but could he explain it to someone else? What about Karin? What would she think if she learned what he had done? He worried about that as much as he worried about making a mistake and drawing the attention of the police. He knew he would be in serious trouble if they ever stumbled onto his activities. Even if he could convince others of his ability, he had doubts whether an impartial legal system would give him a pass for taking the actions he had. More than once he’d thought about stopping, and letting the world continue on its way without his help. Then something would happen that he simply couldn’t let stand. He turned off the television and tried to push the thoughts aside.
He was anxious for morning when he could be on his way for home. He felt better in his personal space. Happily, he would still be able to make his date with Karin. He recalled what they would do and that it had been great, and thought about what he could do to make it even better. He finally fell asleep, thoughts of her taking the edge off his worries.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Karin asked, bringing Jake out of his private world. He’d been brooding again, thinking about the fact he had to lie to Karin. A relationship was supposed to be based on openness and trust, and he’d had to tell her multiple lies today as she asked innocuous questions about how his week had been. He hated that.
“Sorry,” he said, looking over at her. The BMW hummed quietly as they climbed up Highway 50 out of Carson City making their way up the eastern side of the mountains toward the lake. “I was thinking about the NASA project. There’s one little quirk I haven’t worked out and it keeps grabbing my attention. That’s not much of an excuse I realize.” Another lie, he realized even as he spoke.
It was early evening, and the day late in May was clear and warm as they headed into the mountains. He knew the temperatures at the lake would be a little cooler tonight, but they would be spending the time indoors. Karin was dressed to kill, he realized. The knee-length, light blue dress offered a peek-a-boo look at her impressive cleavage and fit her figure perfectly. She wore a simple pearl necklace and matching earrings, a gift from Jake on her last birthday, and which had cost far more than one would expect just looking at them. Her mane of blond hair had been pulled to one side as she sat in the BMW so it flowed down her right side rather than being crushed by her back as she sat in the passenger seat.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t be going tonight?” she asked. “Maybe you need to get that done first.”
Jake immediately felt bad. His attempt to come up with an explanation while avoiding the truth had taken him to a place he didn’t want to be. Never did he want Karin to feel his work was more important to him than she was. That would be stupid. He really didn’t need to work at all given his financial status. Of course, she didn’t know that. She knew he had some money, but would have been shocked to know how much.
“No way,” he responded. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week. Sometimes the brain simply can’t let things go is all.” He hesitated. He’d been planning on waiting until later to raise the idea, but now might be a good time. “I was thinking that we might stay over tonight. We could get a room, then take one of the Lake Tahoe cruises tomorrow. What do you think?”
Karin leered at him. “A hotel room? Now I know why you are luring me up here. You have been planning to seduce me.”
Jake grinned. “Absolutely. The way you look tonight, I can’t think of much else.”
Karin smiled at the compliment. “I wondered if you had something like that in mind when you told me to pack some casual clothes. I’d love it. I don’t need to be back until tomorrow night.”
“Great. We’ll get a room before going to dinner.”
Jake had a momentary vision of Karin and him in the room at the conclusion of their evening. That got him to thinking again. Because of his adventures. Jake had a different set of memories of the world than any one else. He remembered events, often very disturbing events, that simply hadn’t happened for anyone else. Even his relationship with Karin was colored by what he had done, and sometimes it forced him to be careful when discussing the past with her. Take for example the first time they had made love. He had vivid memories of their first intimacy, a night that had simply not happened. Not in this reality anyway. What Karin recalled as their first night together was in his mind their second, first-time together. That sounded a bit odd even to him, but he saw it as their second evening of lovemaking.
What had happened was simple once you understood what he did. One Sunday he had been downtown and had run into Karin unexpectedly while shopping. She had been delighted, and the two of them had spent the afternoon together, followed by a simple dinner at a small restaurant that was convenient. Afterwards he had driven her to her home. One thing had led to another, and he had ended up spending the night. It had been a night of discovery, passion, and recurring pleasure that had been indelibly burned into his mind. He knew he would never forget just how delightful and desirable Karin had been.
Two days later an event that required his talent had forced him to back-track a full week. The matter was more difficult to resolve than he had expected, and by the time he was finished it was already late on that same Sunday he had accidentally encountered Karin at the mall. He’d hurried back to the spot, hoping to re-live that special night, but by the time he had arrived, she had already connected with two of her friends who were also in the area. Instead of them spending the rest of the day and the night together, they had parted after making plans to get together latter in the week. That special night had simply not reoccurred. It was more than three weeks after that before they shared their “first” night of passion together in this reality. It had also been unique, but he still couldn’t think of it as their first time. Jake had been able to draw on his memories from before of what Karin liked and enjoyed, to make the encounter especially pleasurable for her. She had thought him especially empathetic and a unique man who could anticipate her wants so well. That had been the beginning of the current phase of their relationship, which seemed to grow stronger with time.
Jake didn’t want to let his mind start wandering again, so he asked her about her work. He knew that sales had been down, which hadn’t helped her personal situation any. Karin lived in a single apartment, and was fierce about her independence. She wanted to make her own way, and while she would accept gifts from Jake under the right circumstances, she wouldn’t allow him to help her financially. She knew he had money, but didn’t want that to be a factor in their relationship. Once again he wondered how she would react to a proposal from him. He made a promise to take some time next week and search out a ring. He would also take some time once he submitted the software and sort out how Karin would fit into his life. He couldn’t see going forward without telling her. The problem was how.
Karin looked over at Jake as he spoke, part of his attention on the road as they climbed up through the trees following the twisty road that led toward Tahoe. Jake was a really nice guy, she thought not for the first time. Handsome too. She’d known that for a long time. She also knew that he was getting serious about her, and was trying to sort out how she felt about that. There was no doubt they were good together. The sex was fantastic, and he was normally as attentive as anyone could hope. Certainly he was well off. She suspected far more so than he’d told her. She knew he didn’t want to make her nervous by throwing around too much money, but she suspected there was a lot more than she’d seen. The money didn’t matter to her, in fact it scared her a bit. People with too much money seemed t
o have problems. As she watched his face, she wondered what secret he had that he’d thus far not revealed to her. She knew there was something. Usually he liked to share what was on his mind, but there was a side of him that he held back. It was more apparent tonight than usual. It was that way every so often. Sometimes there was a worry in his eyes that she couldn’t explain, and sometimes at night he had bad dreams. He never talked in his sleep, but she could tell that something bothered him.
Chapter 4
The meeting was being held at police headquarters in downtown Phoenix. This seemed fitting as the investigation had been headed up and controlled by the local police rather than the FBI. That was a bit surprising in and of itself given some of the characteristics of the case. FBI Special Agent Susan Carlson had flown in from Washington especially for this meeting. She was accompanied today by FBI Special Agent Jeff Dickens of the local Phoenix office. Agent Dickens had been the interface to the police department from the time Detective Vince Hardy had first contacted the FBI and told them of their suspicion that the murdered man appeared to be more than a simple victim of a homicide. It appeared to the Phoenix police as if Mark Watkins was planning some kind of assault that had been interrupted by his sudden death. That alone could have given the FBI sufficient motivation to take over jurisdiction of the case, but Agent Dickens had looked at the initial results of the police investigation and had wisely elected to leave the matter in the hands of the local police. The FBI didn’t need another unsolved crime on its plate, and he knew he would be able to gain access to all evidence that was learned without being responsible for the matter. The Phoenix police and the FBI had worked well together over the past several years, which wasn’t the case with many police departments.
Jeff Dickens kept attuned to the Bureau’s open unsolved cases, and had contacted his old friend Susan Carlson at headquarters about what he had learned. Susan, who was in charge of certain open investigations, had agreed that the case bore similarities to others they had been watching. She had agreed to let the police take the lead so long as the FBI was kept informed of all developments, but had also made certain requests of both Jeff and the lead detective on the case. Today they were here to talk over what had been found.
“You have no leads pointing toward a potential killer?” Agent Carlson asked Detective Hardy after the detective had completed stating his initial remarks regarding the case. At forty-one years of age, with carefully trimmed short brown hair and a conservative suit, Susan Carlson looked every inch the professional that she was. One of the FBI’s rising stars, unusual for a woman, she was experienced in working effectively with the police.
Vince felt uncomfortable standing in front of the senior agent from Washington. He worked well with the local agent, but he didn’t know Agent Carlson and had no way to judge how she would react to the minimal progress they had made in finding the killer. Jeff Dickens had told him that it wouldn’t be an issue, but one could never tell with the Feds. He looked over at Brooke Johnson, his long time partner, who simply shrugged.
Before he could answer, Agent Carlson spoke again. “My question should not be taken as a condemnation of your efforts. I’ve been kept informed by Agent Dickens, so I have a good idea what has happened and suspect this case is linked to others that have taken place around the country over the past several years. There is no identified suspect there either. I simply want to walk through everything to be certain we are all in agreement here.”
“We have been unable to identify anyone who might be a suspect in this case,” Detective Hardy admitted. “The victim had few friends, and none of them appear to be likely candidates. The only witness to the crime we have discovered thus far is a neighbor who saw a lone man on the street about the time of the shooting. The neighbor thinks the man he saw was young with dark hair. Nothing more.”
“You haven’t found anything that suggests the victim was shot by someone he was working with. From your reports it appears very much like he was planning an attack on the local High School. Perhaps he was planning the attack with someone else and they had a falling out which lead to the killing.”
Agent Dickens listened while Carlson asked questions. These were all issues that had been raised before, but Susan hadn’t been here to participate in the discussions directly, so the topics would need to be reviewed again.
Vince shook his head indicating his answer. “Nothing. The materials we found on his computer suggest that Watkins was planning on his own. The planning notes all pointed to an assault carried out by a single gunman. His wife and mother-in-law have both indicated he was locked up alone at the house when he wasn’t at work. They couldn’t see how he was working with anyone else. It would have had to be over the net, and his email records show almost no contacts for the past month.”
“What about the wife and mother-in-law?” Agent Carlson asked. “They were both present at the time of the killing. Did either of them see or hear anything? Were either surprised by the fact Watkins was planning to attack the school?”
Detective Johnson spoke up before Vince Hardy could respond. “The mother-in-law was awake and heard the shots. She didn’t know what they were at the time, but when she got up and went into the kitchen she realized what the sounds must have been. The wife was sleeping and heard nothing. We conclude based on the observations, or lack of them in the case of the wife, that the gun used must have been silenced.”
“Suppressed,” Agent Carlson corrected.
Vince Hardy nodded at the correction. “Both women indicated that Watkins had been acting oddly the past few months,” Detective Hardy explained. “The wife indicated she and her husband had been having problems, which was why her mother had flown in from New York to stay with them. Her mother had been pressing her to move out and file for divorce. Both indicated that Watkins was troubled by something, but wouldn’t talk with them and had become increasingly private and withdrawn. The marriage was basically over, but the wife hadn’t figured out what action she wanted to take. I think Watkins scared her a bit.”
“What about his guns?” Carlson asked.
“Apparently he’d always had a few guns,” Detective Johnson explained. “Mostly handguns though. The wife had never seen the semi-automatic rifle that was found near his body. There are no records of him buying it, and thus far we have no idea where he acquired it. The sales records show it was part of a shipment that was taken at a store robbery a number of years ago in California.”
“The magazines and ammunition?”
“Most likely bought locally. Both are available at any gun store in town. There are no records of any Internet sales to him. No one at any of the local stores remembers him, but he may have bought the items over time and it’s unlikely one of the clerks would recall. The purchases are not uncommon. He might have also purchased them well out of the local area. There are a lot of stores that sell this kind of thing.”
“Let’s get back to the killer rather than the victim,” Carlson directed. “The shooter appears to have been waiting inside the house when Watkins came into the kitchen where he was surprised. There he was shot four times with a suppressed handgun.”
“A 9mm Sig-Sauer,” Detective Hardy explained. “We recovered all four slugs and have been able to identify the weapon used. The ammunition was Federal 147 grain hollow-points. The heavier bullet with its reduced velocity is known to be more easily silenced than the more common loads,” he added, something Carlson already was aware of.
“Is that the same as your other cases?” Brooke Johnson asked.
“Some, not all,” Carlson replied. “We’ve had a couple of deaths where a Sig was used. There have also been a couple where a rifle was the weapon to kill, and one instance where the victim was drowned. Of course, we can’t be positive that all of these are related or that the same man did the killing. There are reasons to believe they are linked. Of course, there might be other cases we haven’t realized are related because something is different and we don’t see the connection.
So far we have eight suspect cases.”
Carlson looked at Hardy. “None of the brass was recovered?”
“None,” Hardy admitted. “The killer was meticulous in cleaning up after the shooting. He appears to have been very studied and calm about the killing which suggests he thought it out in advance and might have done this before. He knew how to minimize any useful evidence.”
“Your forensics people didn’t find anything either from what I’ve been told?”
“Not very much,” Hardy admitted. “They think the killer wore gloves, probably the thin surgeon type, and probably some kind of outer garment that was smooth and didn’t shed fibers. He appears to have waited in a chair by the table, based on its position and the re-creation of where the shots came from. The only thing they found was a partial dusty footprint near the door. The back porch was dirty, and he came in that way.”
“What kind of print?”
“It appears to be a very common Nu-Balance walking boot. New, by the way, based on the sharpness of the tread pattern. We have pictures of the pattern and the specific shoe type.”