Thick Fog (Alexis Parker Book 18)

by G. K. Parks

  “How could I forget?” Heathcliff asked. “I have a permanent bump on the back of my head from those thugs who came looking for revenge.”

  I hit play on my phone and stared at the detective. “Isn’t that Steele’s voice? You said last night it sounded familiar.”

  He pondered the question while taking the phone from me and playing the message two more times. “It could be.”

  “Can’t,” Thompson said. “Steele’s in prison.”

  “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t make a call. Someone could have rerouted it through the landlines or something.” Heathcliff blinked a few times. “Steele ran the KXDs with Bard. He planned to decimate the Lords and take whoever remained into the KXDs’ ranks. That gives us a lot of potentials to look at. I’ll call over to gangs and see if they’ve heard anything lately about what’s been going on.”

  I stared at O’Connell. “It’s him. I betrayed him. I destroyed him. Mark was with me when we made the arrest. That’s why he was the first one Steele targeted. The investigation into Bard, Cooper led that. If it hadn’t been for Cooper, the OIO wouldn’t have gotten involved. I wouldn’t have gotten involved. Steele would probably be running the KXDs at Bard’s side from some tropical, non-extradition country if it weren’t for us. Steele was always Bard’s lap dog. He came from a fucked up family. So the gang became his family. He’s avenging his family. He’s avenging Bard. It’s him.”

  “Okay,” O’Connell said, “but since he’s in prison, someone else is acting on his behalf. We have to find out who.”

  “I want to see him,” I said. “Face to face.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Moretti said, but his mind was elsewhere. “Why now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Moretti zeroed in on Heathcliff. “Refresh my memory on the situation. What exactly went down?”

  “I stepped in using an alias I established while working narco to back up Alex. Steele groomed her to pass drugs in the strip joint, but being under that long, things were getting out of hand, his feelings for her were getting out of hand. And the situation was only made worse since the PD was running its own op at the same time. Something was about to break off, so I went in to assist,” Heathcliff said. “I stepped on Steele’s toes and garnered favor with Bard. Steele didn’t like it, but he couldn’t do much about it. Bard wouldn’t let him. Bard owed me.”

  “You invaded Steele’s turf and stole his girl. That’s why he hated you,” I said. “That’s why you nearly had your skull bashed in.”

  “If I hadn’t, you and I both know what Steele expected from you. The OIO never should have sent you into that situation alone.” Heathcliff fought to keep his tone neutral, but his hands balled into fists.

  “Are we sure Steele’s behind this and not Bard?” Moretti asked.

  “Steele made those calls. 100%. But he could be acting on Bard’s behalf. I don’t know if they’ve been in contact. I don’t know what happened after they got pinched.” I glanced at O’Connell, wondering if he was going to challenge my conviction with IT’s voice comparison assessment, but he kept his mouth shut. Another thought crossed my mind, and I looked at Heathcliff. “Are you sure the spray paint on your door was just some kid?”

  Heathcliff shrugged, turning his back to us when someone answered the phone. “Hey, this is Heathcliff in major crimes. I got a favor to ask.”

  Tuning him out, I said, “Steele killed his mother’s boyfriend when he was just a kid. The guy clearly has rage issues.” My gut said he personally killed Cooper. I just wasn’t sure how.

  “And abandonment issues,” Thompson said, pulling up Steele’s rap sheet. “No wonder he’s pissed at you, but he couldn’t have committed the attacks. Once again, he’s behind bars. You need to get that through your head.”

  “I’m still not sure how anyone could make the phone calls appear to be from two different landlines when Steele’s in prison,” O’Connell said.

  “Could it be a recording?” Moretti asked.

  “No,” I said. “Recordings can’t react like that.”

  “What about voice modulation or those computer programs that emulate people’s voices?” Moretti suggested. “Perhaps someone’s using this as a distraction while eliminating the next target on the list. Maybe they figure blaming Steele is a surefire way to avoid being identified.”

  “If they copied Steele’s voice, they must have spent some time talking to him. We need prison records, visitor logs, call logs, copies of the mail, everything. I want to know who Francisco Steele’s been talking to. But this isn’t a distraction. This is Steele. I’m positive.”

  Moretti glanced at me. He didn’t say I was wrong, but from the expression on his face, I knew he thought I lost it. However, I’d never been surer of anything in my entire life.

  While the detectives worked the angles, determining who on the outside would be willing to do Steele’s bidding, I called the prison to verify the facts. According to them, Francisco Steele remained behind bars. I checked the inmate database and found him listed. So I made a request to stop by for a visit.

  Despite the correction officer’s insistence that Steele wasn’t going anywhere, I knew the killer already planned another strike. So I warned Heathcliff to be careful, figuring he could be the next target, and went home to get my files. My notes didn’t include every agent who participated in the case, so I dropped by the courthouse to review the transcripts and get names of those who testified against Steele and Bard. Then I headed for the OIO.

  Davis met me at the elevator. “Don’t tell me you received another call.”

  “Shouldn’t you know? You’re monitoring my phone.”

  “Right.” He looked uncomfortable. “Kendall wanted me to conduct the follow-up to yesterday’s incident.”

  “Don’t call it an incident. Cooper died horrifically because he used to be one of us.” My gaze darted to the office in the corner that once belonged to Sam Boyle and the desk Michael Carver once occupied. “I’m sorry, Davis, but agents who work with me drop like flies. I’m hoping to stop another tragedy before the killer strikes again. So you’ll have to pardon my brusqueness.”

  “Since when are you this polite? You really think the unsub might go after me?”

  “You can’t be too careful, but you didn’t work the Bard case.”

  Davis smiled in relief. “You know who the killer is.”

  “Yes, but I hit a snag.”

  He led me into the conference room, called up to Kendall’s office to have the director meet us, and turned his legal pad to a clean page. As soon as Kendall stepped into the room, Davis asked for the name.

  “Francisco Steele, and before you ask, Lt. Moretti already told me he’s currently serving out his sentence in federal prison,” I said.

  “That goes back to the drug investigation Cooper led against DeAngelo Bard.” Kendall had read up on our joint investigations. “I had Lawson analyze the recording you made. I’ll admit the voice on the other end could be him, but I checked with the warden. Steele’s inside. Has been since the trial. Surprisingly, he’s a model prisoner. Good behavior, works in the laundry, has full privileges.”

  “How much of that was negotiated on his behalf for the intel he gave us on the cartels and the other gangs?” I asked.

  Kendall didn’t respond. The prosecutor had offered Steele a generous deal in exchange for information, which Steele happily turned over with one exception. Steele never snitched on Bard, just everyone else. That might have been how he’d gotten so many privileges in prison. Maybe one of them was a day pass to go on a murderous rampage.

  “What do we need to know about Steele that isn’t in the files?” Kendall asked.

  So I told him everything I told the police and everything else I remembered from my months spent undercover. I knew more about Steele than anyone else in the federal building. But despite that, Kendall stuck to his guns. No reinstatements. No favors. I answered all his questions, but he didn’t answer any of mine.

&n
bsp; “Our top priority is determining who on the outside is carrying out Steele’s wishes. I’ll have our analysts and techs check the phone lines. The COs and the warden will search Steele’s belongings for a cell phone. Contraband is common. He probably had someone smuggle one in, and whoever he’s working with on the outside is routing the phone call through the victims’ landlines,” Kendall said. “That is the most likely explanation.”

  “Cooper’s autopsy indicated the killer went into a rage. Don’t tell me that’s not Steele.”

  “We’ll look into it, Parker. Thank you for coming to us with this. I’ll take it from here. In the meantime, I’ll bump up security and have agents assigned to protect the agents and witnesses who testified against Steele. Any one in particular you think Steele might target?”

  “Detective Heathcliff, but he’s already been warned. Aside from that, the Marshals relocated a stripper, Veronica Kincaid. I don’t know if she’s still in WitSec, but you should reach out.”

  “Will do.” Kendall nodded to me. “I stopped by this morning to see Jablonsky. I’ve upped his protection detail, but I made sure they know to allow you and James Martin access to his room.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “All right. If I need you, I’ll let you know. We’re monitoring your phone in the event Steele makes contact again. If he does, I expect you’ll reach out to us immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” My inner voice cringed. Kendall wasn’t my boss. I didn’t need to fall back into that routine, especially when he expected me to walk away and let him handle this. He didn’t protect Mark. He didn’t protect Cooper, and to be quite honest, he didn’t protect me when another agency threw me under the bus and forced me to resign. Annoyed, I pushed away from the table. “Make sure you protect your people this time. I don’t want to go to any more funerals.”

  Marching out of the conference room, I didn’t turn around until I stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, I watched Kendall call everyone to attention. Their top priority was figuring out who Steele was communicating with and how he was getting his messages directly out of the prison and to my cell phone. Funny, the PD was doing the exact same thing. And yet, I didn’t think either of them would be successful.

  Eleven

  “Alex,” Lucien said, surprised when I stormed into his office, much to his assistant’s chagrin, “what are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

  “Where are we on identifying cell phone pings from the two crime scenes?” I asked. “I spoke to Amir, but he said everything was being directly relayed to you. What are you hiding?”

  “I’m not hiding anything.” He gestured to the sofa across from the chair in which he was seated. “Please, sit down.” He glanced up at his assistant, who remained in the doorway. “Justin, bring us a tray with coffee and whatever happens to be downstairs and a few takeout menus. I also need the files on Ms. Parker’s investigation and hold my calls.”

  “Right away, sir.” Justin disappeared before I could protest the offer of coffee and snacks.

  Lucien tossed the projection analysis and expense report onto the table and studied me like an exotic creature at the zoo. “Vinnie overheard the paramedics speaking yesterday. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Vinnie?”

  “The head of the security team I assigned for your protection.”

  “I don’t need protecting. I just need to know who’s responsible.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not hungry.”

  He chuckled, amused and in a good mood, which only irritated me further. “I’ll save my breath. You know I’m not your enemy, even though most of the time you act like I’m the devil himself. To answer your question, yes, we’ve compiled a list of cell phone users in the area at the two different points of interest for the times specified. As predicted, the number is in the thousands. The computers finished the analysis an hour ago. I’ve assigned a team to run those individuals against federal and international criminal databases. I assume, based on his hit list, the assailant must have a record.”

  “He does.”

  Cross cocked an eyebrow. “What’s his name?”

  I didn’t ask how Cross knew. He always knew more than anyone else in the room, kind of like Martin. For a moment, I wondered what a meeting between the two of them looked like. Did either of them even have to speak, or did they just read each other’s mind and come to some symbiotic mind-meld of an agreement? Shaking off the unexpected and pointless musing, I said, “Francisco Steele, but according to the authorities, he’s locked up. They think someone else is doing his bidding.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  “I’m positive he’s the caller, and from what I’ve seen at both scenes, that’s his handiwork. I just haven’t figured out how he’s defying the laws of physics.”

  “What do the police think?” Cross asked. “Do they think he has a protégé?”

  “Perhaps. Steele was second-in-line to head the KXDs. The police assume one of his underlings must be behind yesterday’s attacks.”

  “Do they have any evidence supporting their theory?”

  “They’re working on it. The bag wrapped around Cooper’s head came from the Stop N’ Shop, so they’re hoping to ID the killer that way. They’re also checking to see who Steele’s communicated with from inside prison.”

  “And the FBI?”

  “The same.”

  “Both our brilliant federal and local law enforcement agencies can’t possibly be wrong, can they?” His words bled sarcasm as he went to the computer and typed. “Steele, Francisco.” He read the assigned inmate number, the prison location, and the date of incarceration. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes, but I won’t believe it until I see it. I want to pay Steele a visit. I’m just waiting for my request to be approved.” But since I didn’t have a badge, if Steele didn’t want to see me, he didn’t have to, unless Moretti worked some magic.

  “Always best not to believe something until you have proof. After all, that is what our business relies on.”

  He waited for me to serve up more details, but I had fallen silent, staring at the rug and itching to get up and pace. Finally, I gave in, circled the office a few times, and stared out the window. Unlike my office, Cross had a lovely view.

  He cleared his throat, something he did when he was annoyed or uncomfortable, but that nonverbal nudge did nothing to drag me from my reverie. I wasn’t sure what to think or do, so I kept my mouth shut until the thought wisps had time to coalesce into something solid, a trick I learned long ago.

  “That’s fine, Justin. Close the door behind you. I’ll let you know if we want to order lunch,” Cross said, and I turned just as his assistant stepped out of the room. I hadn’t even heard him enter or leave. Cross’s assistant was probably a ninja in his spare time.

  I gave the tray a glance, but I didn’t make a move for the croissants or fresh fruit. Even the mug of gourmet coffee didn’t interest me. Cross eyed me as I picked up the top folder and opened it to a printed spreadsheet. The information included names, billing addresses, and cell phone numbers.

  “You must have friends at all the major carriers,” I mused.

  “Something like that,” Cross said.

  I dropped onto the couch with the papers in my lap, flipping through them in search of any names or addresses that might ring a bell. I knew the neighborhoods and streets where Bard, Steele, and the KXDs operated. I’d just finished going through the first two pages when Cross cleared his throat again.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m ordering lunch. What would you like?”

  You sound like Martin, I thought. “Nothing.”

  “You have to eat.”

  “There’s no point. I haven’t been able to keep anything down.” I felt something shift in the room, and I looked up from the papers,
my gaze falling on the report Cross had tossed onto the coffee table. “You have an appointment.”

  He made a show of looking at the time. “Not for another hour, but it’ll take you at least three times as long to get through all the names on that list, so stop wasting my time. What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.” He waited, practically tapping his foot impatiently.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “Okay.” He sat in the chair opposite me. “Do you think you’re Steele’s next target?”

  I laughed. “Everyone asks me that. The answer is no. He’s just getting started. But I have no idea who his next victim will be. I’ve been going over the victimology in my head. The only thing I know for certain is he wants to save me for last.”

  “I know. I heard. Though I imagine he’ll be the one begging for mercy when all is said and done.”

  “That’s the plan.” I snorted, pausing suddenly. “Wait a sec. How do you know what he said? That wasn’t part of the recording.”

  Lucien cleared his throat again.

  “You bugged my phone.” Not that I was surprised. Actually, what surprised me was the OIO and PD hadn’t thought to do it sooner. “When this is over, we need to have another discussion about boundaries and privacy.”

  “Your safety is my foremost concern. Deal with it.”

  “In that case, try to care a little less about my safety.” But I saw the flicker in his eyes. “Martin put you up to it. Is he a client now?”

  “We have an arrangement,” Cross said, glee dancing in his eyes, “but that isn’t important now either. With the limited time I have available, let’s get back on track. You mentioned something about victimology. Let’s talk it out.”

  “Jablonsky was first because he made the arrest. Cooper was second and was brutally slain because he was responsible for opening the initial investigation. He’s the one who brought it to our attention. Mark’s and mine.”