Silent Graves (Brandon Fisher FBI Series)

by Carolyn Arnold

  Zachery still didn’t make eye contact. “He buried her with her ring. The three victims from the highway weren’t wearing their wedding bands.” He glanced up at us.

  “With the three, original homicides, the unsub stripped them of their commitment in life,” Paige added.

  “He didn’t feel they lived up to it or deserved it. Maybe they were cheating wives?” I stepped closer to Zachery. “All the victims were beautiful women with busy husbands, even the highway victims.”

  Revelation lit in Zachery’s eyes. “The first three victims were found naked, without their rings, and there wasn’t evidence that they had been buried. They were just found along the highway. We’re only after one unsub at this point. The original is no longer in charge, possibly not even alive. I bet that he is motivated to continue because of him though.”

  “Smart.” Jack nodded and added, “and seems to pick them out and get close to them. He takes his time with them as evidenced by what they undergo.”

  “Rape and murder doesn’t come naturally to him. He feels a compulsion.” Paige bobbed her head. “Probably because of what you just mentioned Zachery, but the question of why remains.” I nodded in agreement. “Maybe the original guy is alive and has more influence than we originally thought, leans toward it being his child.”

  “The original killer is now the spectator. We estimated him to be in his seventies. Maybe he’s involved and picks the women, like we mentioned before, but our unsub carries it out?”

  “Whatever the case, he’s getting more daring. He’s going after wives of successful businessmen.”

  Detective Hanes’s attention went between us as we discussed the mental state of the man we hunted.

  “He has a low regard for women, no doubt learned at an early age. Despite feeling regret, as evidenced by the ring and burying of the body, he leaves them naked, a state of disgrace,” Zachery said.

  “He’s more ashamed for them than for his actions.” I verbalized the thought as it occurred to me.

  Zachery’s eyes went from me to Jack. “It’s possible.”

  “So, why here, why now, and why Nina Harris?”

  Jack finally gave in and lit up a cigarette. A stream of white smoke ascended on his exhale. “It could be as simple as because he could, or it could be more complicated. He could like here because of the isolation. He’s able to keep the women, do as he wishes, and then dispose of the bodies. Something’s definitely triggered this guy back into action. After the killings seemed to have stopped in two thousand,” Jack addressed the officer, “who was the next woman reported as missing that fits the profile?”

  “Leslie Keyes, two thousand and five.”

  Everyone stared at him. Jack took another puff, his eyes never leaving the officer. “Six years ago. Was the report filed in Dumfries?”

  The officer shook his head. “Prince William County PD.”

  “When the husband was interviewed, what did he say?”

  Hanes flushed. “We didn’t interview anyone. It was a missing persons report. You know how they are. They get filed, and they’re not actively investigated unless there’s evidence of foul play.”

  “Did the husband have a life insurance policy on his wife, or would he benefit in any other way from her disappearance and pronouncement of death?” Jack’s eyes fixed on the detective, his suction tight around the cigarette.

  “She hasn’t been pronounced and wouldn’t there be better ways to go about it? A faster route if monetary benefit were the goal?”

  Jack looked out over the field. His jaw muscles went as taut as violin strings. He took a dramatic inhale from the cigarette. “My question was, would he benefit?”

  “I…we…don’t know.”

  “It might be a good thing for us to find out then.” Jack turned to the team. “We also need to speak with Nina’s husband.”

  The officer shook his head again. Hanes was avoiding eye contact with all of us.

  Jack continued. “Our unsub started up again with Leslie Keyes six years ago. Brandon and I will start with Keyes. While we’re doing that Paige, I want you and Zach to visit Harris’s husband.”

  “At one point, you wanted us to visit the wife of the first suspect in the Chase investigation,” Paige said.

  “We’ll leave her ’til a little later.” Jack directed his next words to the detective. “When Mr. Harris was told about his wife, how did he take it?”

  “Like one would imagine. He was distraught but relieved to have some closure. It has been months since Nina went missing.”

  Jack studied the detective’s face and nodded. “What is his line of work?”

  “He…” Hanes turned to the officer.

  The officer picked up. “He’s not successful like the husbands of the two recent victims. He’s not the owner of some law firm or a telecommunications giant.”

  Jack flicked ash from his cigarette to the grass. “To the point kid.”

  I swallowed the smile that would have enveloped my face given a chance. I liked hearing someone else get the nickname.

  “He’s a satellite dish installer. He doesn’t work for Trinity if you’re thinking they’re connected that way.”

  “There goes the thought that all the husbands are busy and important,” I said.

  “Hmm.” Jack turned to me. I thought that was one in my favor, and then his words confirmed it. “Fisher’s right. We’ll meet back at PWPD to discuss what we found out once we’re finished with the husbands.” He addressed the detective and the officer. “Make sure to have a crime board set up laying out the missing women, starting with Leslie Keyes from two thousand five. Start with noting their husband’s line of work and their alibis for the day their wives went missing. Include anything and everything we know.”

  Detective Hanes passed a glance to the officer and then took a step forward. “That’s thirty-two women including Rogers and this latest one.”

  “I said it back at the station, but her name is Sydney Poole. I’ll get you some help. Her name is Nadia Webber.” Jack extended a business card and told him the extension to reach her desk. “Give me fifteen minutes to let her know you’re going to be calling.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  We all turned to the officer.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “I have everything you’ll need to know on the thirty missing women from the last six years.”

  “All thirty?” Jack’s brows rose.

  “Yes.”

  The team shared looks. Jack responded to him. “All right then.”

  “I know from your faces what you’re thinking.”

  “You can tell our thoughts from our faces? Wow, you’re better than us.” Jack stamped the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

  “Well, what I believe you’re thinking. I knew something was going on with these missing women years ago. I’ve told you that.” He turned to the detective again, as if for backup. “I have all the information you’ve asked Detective Hanes for, maybe more. I’ll even get you everything on the latest two.”

  “Hmm.”

  The officer’s cheeks flushed. He must have experienced what I did on the end of Jack’s famous, hmm.

  “I would like to be a detective someday, Agent, maybe even work at the FBI.”

  Jack studied his face. “You help Hanes get the board together.” He gestured to the card. “If you find out your information isn’t as complete as you think it is, call Nadia.”

  He shoved the heel of his palms to his ears hoping to mute the voice. Maybe it would stop calling out to him, telling him it disapproved, directing his next step, but it didn’t matter. It summoned him even through ear plugs. He had tried. He attempted to drink himself unconscious—it got louder. He feared the results of mind-altering drugs such as cocaine, assuming the voice would take on an even more dominant presence. Doctors had tried to remedy him, but the voice was persistent—it prevailed and came out stronger.

  She squirmed beneath him. He dropped his arms
and rested his hands, one on each of her thighs.

  “Please…off…why?”

  He had let her ride the last dosage almost to its completion. The fact that her words were making it through told him her strength would also be coming back, and he couldn’t have that. He brushed a hand down the side of her face. She turned away.

  Make her look at you.

  He cupped her chin and forced her to face him. When she did, the fighting spirit had left her eyes. It was replaced by tears.

  She doesn’t respect you. Make her.

  His heart pounded.

  Make her!

  The image of another man pulling into her driveway and kissing her in the front window had been imprinted on his brain. His hands formed fists at his side.

  “I thought you loved me.”

  She didn’t move. She didn’t even appear to blink.

  Make her respect you!

  “How? To do that?” His eyes searched the room for the source of the voice—the one he started to believe was lodged in his mind.

  She tensed up beneath him.

  He got off the bed and slapped his hands against his thighs.

  Tappity, tap. Tappity, tap.

  She ain’t ever going to respect you.

  The taunt was followed by laughter.

  Even the voice ridiculed him and knew he didn’t deserve a woman’s love—if a whore were even capable of dispensing unconditional and loyal love. They gave what wasn’t theirs to everyone, flaunting it.

  She said his name. Her weak voice still made it through to his ears. Anger pulsed in his core. No one had called out to him by name—not after he had brought them here. Did she think she could appeal to his soft side? First one had to exist.

  Make her respect you! Be a man!

  He spun on his heels and headed to the cabinet in the corner. He loaded a syringe and came at her. “You are a fucking slut, and, for this, you will pay.”

  Her eyes enlarged as he pierced her skin and filled her veins with the serum.

  Chapter 14

  Paige pointed out Victor Harris’s house, and Zach parked the SUV at the side of the road in front. Cars lined the driveway, two wide and three deep. A speedboat occupied one spot.

  “It costs a lot of money to have a boat like this. It probably cost forty-five thousand, or more, to buy, and that’s not even getting into the matter of fuel to use it.” Zach touched it as they walked past.

  “Maybe that’s why it’s in the drive and not at the marina.”

  “Could be.” He moved around it. He pointed to silver lettering announcing the boat as Lady Speed. “Well, that’s original.”

  Paige laughed, but it was stifled when the front door opened.

  “Can I help you?” A black man of about thirty stood there. He matched the DMV photo they had of Nina’s husband.

  Victor had a high brow line, a wide, flat nose, and a day’s worth of stubble on his face. Paige would consider him attractive if it wasn’t for the pain that had etched into his features. It had taken the genetic predisposition of a handsome man and tinged it with madness. The loss of his wife under such violent circumstances had stamped darkness into his eyes and the energy he exuded.

  Zach held up his credentials. “We’re agents Miles and Dawson of the FBI.”

  “The FBI.” His tone of voice made the inquiry a statement of fact. He walked down the front steps toward them. “Now you show up.”

  “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “We are talking.” Victor blinked, his eyes misting with tears. “There’s nothing left to say though, is there Agent? My wife is dead. You didn’t save her. The police never saved her.”

  “We’re sorry for your—”

  He turned to Paige. “Save your speech. There would be no need for apologies if everyone had done their jobs.”

  Paige stepped forward. “The only man responsible for your wife’s death is the one who murdered her.”

  Victor let out a puff of air and his eyes read, go ahead and shift the blame around.

  “We’re here because we want to find this person and hold him responsible for what he’s done, for the pain he has caused.”

  Rage veiled over his eyes, and he pressed a flattened palm over his heart. “It’s not my pain I worry about. It was Nina’s. What did she go through up until—” His hand snapped up from his heart and covered his mouth.

  “We can find who did this to her, and you can help.” Paige put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. When she made contact, he seemed to shrink under her touch, almost as if melting beneath it. The man was undergoing extreme grief.

  He pressed his fingertips to his eyelids, and then glimpsed heavenward. “I’m not sure how. Everyone loved her. She had a way about her, you know. She was confident and full of life. Women loved her. Men loved her. I wished they didn’t so much, but I knew what I was getting into when I married her,” his chest heaved, “but she loved me.” His eyes connected with Paige’s. “What more could a guy like me ask for? What more could any guy ask for?”

  With the intensity in Victor’s eyes, and the declaration of love for his wife, she believed him. The emotion even tapped a place deep inside of her she thought had died a long time ago—the need for a committed relationship. The excuse she chose as her primary arsenal, that she was too busy for a love affair, vanished when she tried to conjure it for validity. She hadn’t found the right person. She thought of Brandon and amended her thought—the right available person who shared her feelings. Paige removed her hand from Victor’s shoulder.

  A shadow graced the front doorway, and a woman, appearing to be in her fifties, stepped outside. She eyed Paige and Zach. “Victor, baby, are you okay?”

  Paige saw the similarities. The woman was his mother.

  Victor turned around. “I’m fine. Go back inside. I’ll be right in.”

  She bounded down the stairs toward him and squeezed him.

  “I mean it, Mom, I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” She directed a fierce glare at Paige and Zach. “You find the bastard who did this to her.”

  Paige nodded. “We’ll do our best.”

  With the woman back inside, Victor led them to the backyard and a patio set. Paige sensed eyes watching them, but, when she turned to the opened windows, no one was there.

  “The day Nina went missing,” Paige began.

  Victor put his hands on the table. “Tuesday I had to get to work. I was running late. I’m always running behind, but the boss doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “You said your good-byes in the morning, and then went to work? Do you know what Nina’s schedule was for that day?”

  “We didn’t even say good-bye that morning.” His eyes took in the yard. “We fought a lot, but I never would have hurt her. I never would have done anything like this. Neighbors had called the police on us a few times. Nina and I are, were, both animated people. When we saw things differently, well, the place wasn’t any library, but I would never raise a hand to her. Ever.” He paused, as if assessing whether they believed him. “The cops asked if it were possible that she was sleeping around on me and had simply taken off with her lover. I guess it’s obvious that’s not the case now.”

  “You said women and men loved Nina. Any man in particular?”

  “You mean who gave me the creeps? No.”

  “We were noticing what a nice boat you have,” Zach said. “It must have taken a year’s wage to get it.”

  Victor rolled his eyes. “Surprised you don’t know this, but Nina won a local lottery. She wanted the boat. I couldn’t care less about it. That was one of our heated arguments. Between taxes and that damned boat, there went the money. That’s why it’s in the driveway now. No sense paying the docking fees at the marina. If you’re interested, I’ll give you a deal.”

  “Would Nina have any reason to be out near the area where she was found?”

  “Nope. I’ve been racking my brain on that.”

  “Run us through her schedule for that day.” />
  He ran a hand across his brow. “We had been fighting. If she told me, I wasn’t listening.”

  “Did she have any regular appointments she kept—the spa, the hairdresser, a gym?”

  “She worked out all the time. I tried to get her to concede with a home gym, but she said she liked getting out. She liked the attention she got.” The implication of his words must have hit home. Tears pooled in his eyes. “Maybe she was cheating on me. I guess I wouldn’t know.”

  “We’re going to need the name of that gym.”

  “Last I knew she was going to Fitness Guru.”

  Back in the car, Paige and Zach discussed what they had learned from Victor.

  “He’s in denial about her cheating on him,” Paige said.

  We tried reaching Brad Keyes at Fitness Guru, the gym he managed, but were directed to his house. He answered the door with a cell phone held to one ear. “You’re going to have to figure it out. I’ll be in as soon as I can. Listen, I’ve got to go.” He disconnected his call. “What can I do for you?”

  “We’re here about your wife, Leslie Keyes.” Jack fished out his creds, and Brad led us into his house.

  “It’s not a good time right now.”

  “It’s not a good time? This is about your missing wife.” Jack’s face took on hard lines. I knew the expression all too well.

  “She went missing six years ago. I’ve had to move—”

  “Daddy! Daddy!” The words came from the sugar-coated lips of a boy of about six or seven.

  “Come here. Let me wipe your face.” Brad hunched down to rub a thumb across the boy’s small mouth, wiping away what appeared to be white sugar powder from doughnuts. “This is Tristan. Say hi to our guests.”

  “Hi.” His voice was low, and he rocked his torso, his eyes cast downward.

  Brad rested a hand on top of the kid’s head. “He’s shy around strangers, and, as you can see, I’ve got my hands full today. Work’s falling apart without me, and hunting down a babysitter at the last minute like this is almost impossible. He’d be in school if it weren’t for the fact he isn’t feeling well. As you can see, that seems to have passed.”