by Rick Murcer
He wondered briefly if that made him little better than the men and women he’d brought down over the years. After all, he had to think like them to get to where he needed to be. Sometimes, it was far more than just thinking like them. He became them.
In the end, did it matter?
A bible verse flashed across his mind. The Apostle Paul had said that he became all things to all men so that a few might be saved. Manny understood that. He lived it. The Guardian of the Universe was who he was, period.
So be it.
“Manny? You want to start this meeting? You tranced out again, so that means you’re ready,” said Josh, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, causing Manny to think how much more appropriate that looked on his friend. He looked almost normal.
Manny nodded. Gavin, Alex, Dean, Josh, Sophie, and Chloe were now seated around the table, each with a file of information the CSU of Lansing had been able to put together on short notice. It was incomplete, but he had seen enough to make some assumptions.
Assumptions this circle of cops might think were crazier than he already did.
Manny let out a breath.
“What if I told you the calls, the text, and the cemetery circus are all created by one man?”
CHAPTER-14
“Damn, Manny. Really? I can’t wait to hear this. I mean, how in hell are you getting that?” asked Sophie, moving to the edge of her chair.
Manny noticed the same look on everyone’s face, except for Josh. He seemed far from surprised. In fact, Manny detected a slight nod from the BAU leader. As if he had expected Manny to connect the dots, as scattered as they were.
Manny frowned and moved on, ignoring his curiosity with his boss’s body language, for the moment.
“Let’s look at what we have. The what, the how, the where, and most importantly, the when. Like I said before, I don’t much care about the why right now,” said Manny.
The room grew quiet as his crew, and Gavin, gathered their internal ideas. Respectively, in their own ways, they were analyzing what he’d said. He was mildly surprised how much he’d come to recognize how each of them processed information and what each needed to do so.
He glanced at Josh. He was watching his phone and had not looked at the file. More odd behavior.
Two minutes later, Sophie looked up from her file. “What the hell, I’ll go first.”
“Have at it,” said Manny.
“We got two dead people, mother and son, who just might have had a taboo secret or two. Empty graves as an apparent diversion and a note referring to a bible verse insinuating that someone dead might be alive. All from a cemetery that was run by the City of Lansing who had employees with ties to a therapist who happened to be the craziest bastard I’ve ever met, besides my first husband.
“Then we have a weird-ass text from someone somewhere in Nevada who had no way of knowing that Manny and Chloe were pregnant. That same number is used to call Gavin and he says it sounded like Argyle, according to what Manny told us on the phone. Right so far?”
“Good start,” said Manny. “What else?”
“There’s very little forensic material to draw from,” said Dean.
“Which fits the intellect of an organized serial killer,” added Alex.
“Let’s not forget the missing organs,” said Chloe.
“Let’s not,” said Josh softly.
“What does that mean?” asked Chloe.
“We just don’t want to leave out anything,” answered Josh, still staring at his phone.
This time, the rest of the agents and cops in the circle all switched their gazes to Josh. The tone of cool, collected, while admirable in meetings like this, didn’t fit Special Agent Josh Corner. It never really had. He’d always been bright and the right man to lead the BAU, but he’d also almost constantly carried a sense of excitement and emotion with his responsibilities. His response, and, in Manny’s eyes, his actions since they’d found the bodies in the cemetery, displayed a different attitude. It was if he was trying to detach himself from this party, and his folks.
Talking to Josh after the meeting was no longer an option. It had to be now. Right now.
Manny opened his mouth, but wasn’t quick enough. Sophie had beaten him to the punch, and she wasn’t happy.
She rose out of her chair and stood inches from Josh, never lifting her big, brown eyes from his face. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder, clasped her hands together in front of her, and leaned in. “Okay, Josh. Part of the thing that makes you really hot, besides your broad shoulders and those eyes, is your honesty. You know how you talk to us and never keep us in the dark. If I can detect your complete asshole attitude this morning, you know Manny can. He’s probably being polite by not mentioning it. He’s a strange man that way. I’m not cramped by that shit. So, what the hell’s going on with you? What aren’t you telling us?”
One by one, Josh met the eyes of people in the circle. He then placed his hands on the table, staring at them, but not speaking.
The coffeemaker spurted and hissed, indicating that it had completed its task as the aroma of dark blend filtered throughout the room. Chloe got up and brought the pot of java back to the table, refilling empty cups. She then sat back down, grasped Manny’s hand, and waited.
There had been situations in past meetings that made Manny uneasy, like when Josh’s marriage had taken a walk on the rocky side. Or when Sophie admitted she was having an affair with a former Lansing DA’s husband. But this setting was beyond making him feel “uneasy.”
“You’re both right. Manny saw it in my face earlier. You all know what it’s like to hide something from him, so I didn’t try. I knew the rest of you wouldn’t be far behind, but for the first time in a long time, I was almost afraid to tell you all where this case was probably heading.”
Josh swallowed and then cleared his throat. His voice faltered as he spoke. This time there was no masking his emotion. “The hard thing here is that I won’t be with you. Furthermore, neither will Alex and Chloe.”
CHAPTER-15
“This is unbelievable,” said Brent Lane. “Four victims in less than five days. I ain’t enjoying this one.”
Detective Melanie Teachout nodded as she rebuttoned the top button on her green, silk blouse. “Even as cops we don’t see everything in this twisted world; we only read about some of the shit that goes on. And this . . . this human organ dealing isn’t the type of case I supposed we’d ever get.”
She moved toward their bedroom window, taking in the view of the famous Las Vegas strip. The skyline really was beautiful. The buildings were as unique as they were diverse and offered tantalizing entertainment of all types. Her city was a place where memories of a lifetime were often made. Yet, underneath that beauty and freedom subsisted another world that most people only thought they knew. Not that other cities escaped the plagues that inhabited hers; it simply seemed more magnified here.
Reaching for her cigarettes, she pulled one from the pack and held it between her lips without lighting it.
She guessed it was because people came here to let loose from the ball and chain that was their everyday, boring, stressful lives, and to dive head first into the happenings that made the saying “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” more of a truth than just a slogan. Part of her thought that was okay. People need to live a little. The problem began when the line between reality and fantasy became blurred.
She felt Brent’s arms wrap around her waist. Good God, she loved how he felt. She not only loved him, but it simply felt dead-on to be with him. He was right in keeping their relationship a secret for as long as possible. She didn’t want a new partner, ever.
“We’d better get back to the office. We’ll have some preliminary reports on the guy we found behind the Egyptian and the girl discovered downtown. What was her name?”
“Paige Madison,” she said absently.
“Yeah. You were always better with the names.”
“That’s okay, you’ve got ot
her skills. That’s what makes us a great team.”
“It does. Pretty weird to find that cell phone on her with a text and a call to Michigan.”
“It was. The fact that one went to an FBI agent and another to a Lansing cop sealed the deal when I asked the captain for a little help on this one. Pretty obvious the killer wanted us to find the phone,” said Melanie.
“So we’re going to get the FBI, huh?” asked Brent.
“That’s what the captain said. She served in the Army with the supervisor of the BAU and called him, some guy named Corner. I guess he said they’d be coming out anyway for another case, so what the hell, right?”
“The more the merrier, at least on this one,” answered Brent.
Melanie grabbed her weapon from the dresser. “Maybe. You’re right about one thing, though, we’ve gotta go. At least we got a quick lunch. We may not get another for a while.”
Brent smiled. “Is that what that was?”
“Nothing better than lunch delight,” she said, kissing him again.
Picking up his gun and badge from the nightstand, he motioned for her to follow him. “The captain will be sending out an APB on us soon.”
“Okay. I’m coming.”
“I love it when you say that,” he grinned.
“That’s two of us,” she answered.
He opened the door and motioned for her to go first.
“Always a gentleman.”
“I try.”
Three minutes later, they were headed north on Las Vegas Boulevard. Watching the dazzling strip go by, Melanie was struck with an idea. She turned to Brent.
“You know, I keep running over that part where we found the phone—with the call and text—and for the life of me, I don’t get the connection. I mean why?” she asked.
“I’m sure we’ll be clued in, but my first impression is someone has a beef with the Feds. That’s not unusual, but the fact they dangled an invitation like that makes me a little nervous.”
“Why?”
“Who on this planet wants the FBI to come looking for them?” he asked.
“Good question. I was wondering the same thing.”
“Some peckerhead, I guess,” said Brent quietly.
Melanie glanced at her husband and partner. She felt her blood grow a little colder as another answer danced into her head.
“Or a very bright killer with a vendetta,” she whispered.
CHAPTER-16
Josh sipped his coffee.
“Keep talking,” said Sophie.
The hesitation in her voice reflected the apprehension that Manny was sure they were all feeling. It wasn’t difficult to see that Josh was wrestling with a demon or two. Manny just wasn’t sure which one would speak first.
“I got a call from HQ a few hours ago that lasted longer than I wanted.”
Josh hesitated for a long moment—no one interrupted the strained silence—and then continued. “Listen. I’m tired. I’m tired of shoveling shit against the administrative tide. Some days, it just doesn’t seem worth it. Then I remember why we do what do, bureaucracy aside, and I take another breath. Let’s face it, no one told me this would be a garden party. So let’s get to this.”
Standing, he pointed at Manny. “Tell them where this is headed, because you already have it figured out . . . at least mostly, right?”
Manny nodded and felt all eyes shift his way. He felt some weight lift from Josh’s shoulders. Manny understood the burden.
“Part of the records we asked for and got was the credit card activity from the mother and son in the casket. You can see them on the third page in the file. Apparently the Roche’s had just returned from a trip to Las Vegas. They had stayed at the Egyptian for five days, and they came home last week. There were over thirty transactions on Matthew’s card. Not all that unusual when taking a trip to Sin City, except one charge was in a national department store for a pay-as-you-go phone.”
“A little weird,” said Alex.
“It was. Given they both have contract plans and updated smart phones. It was also odd because this throw-away phone still required the buyer to ID himself before activation. The days of walking into a store, buying a phone, ripping it out of its package, and making a call are dead, if they ever really existed. You have to log on to those temporary phone business sites, give them some info, fake or not, before you can activate the new phone.”
“Still odd. But not entirely out of the question, especially if you’re trying to hide something, from . . . say . . . your mother,” said Sophie, shrugging.
“True. That was my first inclination. The CSU was able to get that company’s records for phones purchased on that day—see page four—and activated within a couple of hours of the purchase. We didn’t find anything with Roche’s name, but she did find one listed to—”
“An F. Argyle. Shit,” finished Alex, flipping his file closed.
“We shouldn’t be surprised with that, especially given his range of influence. And that doesn’t mean he’s alive. It could be entirely possible, like I said before, that we’re being led down the primrose path,” said Manny.
“Let me guess,” said Gavin, looking at his phone then glancing at the page open in front of him. “It’s the same number that texted Chloe and called me.”
“It is,” said Manny, nodding. “Those facts mean that Mister Roche either had his credit card stolen and didn’t realize it, or that he had a friend in Vegas. It also sets a motive to get rid of the Roche’s, given his counseling sessions with Argyle four years ago. With Roche dead, he can’t talk about his trip. Not that killers like this one need a motive, but at least it adds a little method to the madness.”
“Why the mother?” asked Gavin.
“Maybe she heard or saw something.” Manny sighed. “Or she was just important to the whole casket setup. Either way, she was innocent, I believe.”
“Okay. I still don’t know how the killer knew about Chloe’s pregnancy,” said Dean, rubbing his beard.
The chill came and went as Manny let the full ramifications of Dean’s statement hit home. He stayed calm.
“I’m not sure. There could be some link between the text I sent to let you all know about the baby and access to the phone company’s database. Those records get hacked often enough.”
There was another way, as Dean had insinuated earlier. Manny chucked it out of his head, for now. He trusted everyone in this room with his life, but if he’d learned anything the last two years, trust was a fragile commodity and people weren’t always as they seemed.
“So someone could have busted into any one of our accounts and seen that message? Or worse, they’re monitoring one or all of us?” asked Dean.
“It’s possible. That’s why we’ll have new phones and numbers before the day’s over. Buzzy has also located a program that will block any outside source’s direct access to our phone records, and it will track anyone who tries to gain unauthorized access to the new phones,” said Manny.
“Damn, Williams. Two years ago you couldn’t even say the word ‘text,’” said Sophie, grinning.
“Yeah, well, I still don’t care for this techie junk, but I have to play or be left behind.”
“Okay, where does that leave all of this?” asked Alex.
“I think that’s where Josh comes in, because that’s as far as I can go. I will add that I think we’re headed to Vegas, but not just for this case, right, Josh?”
“Right. The other side of this coin is that the phone that Roche bought was found in the possession of a young lady, Paige Madison, ninety minutes ago,” answered Josh.
“Vegas? We’re going to Vegas? Oh man, do I ever have outfits to wear out there,” said Sophie, climbing out of her chair. “I’ve not been there in years. This is going to be—”
Sophie halted when she saw the look on Manny’s face. She cleared her throat, brushed at an invisible piece of lint, then sat back down, folding her hands on the table.
She said, “Ah, what I mean
t is . . . what does this Paige have to say for herself?”
“Great question, Sophie,” said Josh. “Nothing. She’s not talking. She was the fourth murder victim in the last five days in Las Vegas. Each of them was discovered with one or more organs missing.”
“Damn. So the connection is obvious. Whoever killed mom-and-son here has something going on in Vegas and wants the BAU to come running,” said Sophie quietly. “The question is still why?”
The feeling deep in Manny’s gut whispered the answer.
It was him.
The killer wanted Special Agent Manfred Robert Williams. And it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.
The idea of being a cop, a special agent in his case, was to squelch fear by protecting the public. Putting the bad guys away and helping folks to sleep better at night. The irony wasn’t lost on him. The public was safer with him and the BAU on the job, but he felt none of that safety in his own life. The constant concern of what, or who, was just around the corner for him and his family was growing old. It hung around his neck like some damned anchor, trying to pull him far into the deep and keep him there.
He felt his anger blossom. Two years of this shit was enough. He’d lost friends, witnessed horrible deaths, and felt unsafe, even in his own home. Never mind going crazy every time Jen left the house.
Argyle had invaded his home, touched his deceased wife, Louise, and had led him and his people on chases all over the world. He thought this crap would end when he killed the man, only to be stabbed later by one of his lackeys and almost checking out himself.
No more.
“It’s me, and we all know it. And I’m ready. We end this once and for all,” he said.
Glancing at Chloe, he saw his wife’s strength. Her own anger was hard to miss, and her green eyes were steely, solid, and determined. He remembered just how much he’d never really wanted to get on the south side of that temper. This was one of those times.