“Yeah?”
“Eaves is pretty sure it had some writing or a logo on it. With the light on the table you could see the white outline.”
“Interesting.”
Claire sighed.
“You okay?” Alex asked.
“Not really.”
Alex was taken aback by the honest response. “Want to talk about it?”
Claire turned and looked at Alex. Alex felt her gaze and glanced at her with a smile.
“I woke up thinking that the best chance we might have for a lead is a new victim. How fucked up is that?”
Alex nodded. “I know how you feel.”
“What?”
“I hate it, but you aren’t wrong. I want to stop this bastard before he kills anyone else—I do. The lack of evidence is frustrating.”
“Maybe this landscaper thing will pan out.”
“I hope so.”
“How did you make out with the governor?”
“She’ll make sure there are more feet on the ground where we need them.”
“You don’t sound happy about that,” Claire observed. “Worried she’ll bag us when the political pressure starts?”
“Candace?” Alex asked. “No. I just worry that as this investigation becomes more focused, he’ll become more unhinged.”
“You think he might target someone?”
“I don’t know. He already made it personal by sending that letter to my house.”
Claire looked back out her window. She needed to process all the information before responding. “We won’t let it get that far.” I won’t let it get that far.
***
“Mr. Jacobs,” Alex extended her hand.
“Mark, please.”
Alex nodded. “This is my partner, Agent Claire Brackett. We appreciate you taking the time.”
“I’m not sure how I can help you,” he said.
“You worked as a landscaper for a time; is that right?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, I worked my way through college that way. Started mowing lawns when I was fourteen. Took a job in college working all summer with a company back home.”
“Greenscape?” Alex asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
Alex offered the man before her a reassuring smile. Even innocent people tended to become unnerved when the FBI knocked on the door. She needed to put him at ease if she hoped to get accurate information from him. “Greenscape has come up as a vendor for someone close to our investigation. You know how it goes sometimes. Not everyone is a great record keeper,” she said. “We just wanted to talk to some of the people who worked for them back when you did.”
Mark Jacobs nodded. “Well, I worked a lot when I was in college. Most weeks fifty or sixty hours.”
“And, did you mainly work in the same places?”
“Not always. Lots of people came and went; you know? Kids would take a job and think it was all fun and games. Lots of times you were alone on a property. You got dropped off and picked up later. It wasn’t always social. It was hot and dirty. People suddenly didn’t show up. That meant you went wherever they needed you.”
Alex nodded. “So, a lot of people came and went?”
“Yeah. I’d say every week there was someone new.”
Claire listened intently. “How many people stayed?” she asked.
Jacobs shrugged. He thought for a moment. “I worked for them for five years. In all that time, there were only four people that were there for more than two summers when I worked.”
“Do you remember them?” Alex asked.
“I think so. Umm… There was Don; I’m sorry; I don’t know his last name,” he apologized.
Alex smiled. “That’s okay. Go on.”
Jacobs brow furrowed as he attempted to recall the names. “Gordon Daniels. He worked for the first three summers with me. Then he went into the military, I think. Never saw him again. I remember because that next summer was hell. Gordon worked his ass off. It made the time go; you know?”
“So, you worked with Gordon a lot?” Claire wondered.
“Yeah. Almost every day for the last two summers he was there. They sent us to the bigger properties. Places that needed more than a mow,” he explained. “Gordon was pretty artistic. I mean, he could do anything. His grandfather had owned a nursery. At least, I think it was a nursery. He knew all about plants. So, we did a lot more than mow and trim those two summers.”
Alex filed away the information. “And, the other two?”
Jacobs combed his thoughts for a minute. Ralph. Sorry, I can’t say I ever paid much attention to him. He was kind of quiet. Didn’t work with him much.”
“Doesn’t sound like you spent much time with the people you worked with,” Claire observed.
“Not really. Like I said, people came and went. Just Gordon. I mean, and BJ. He was there on and off. I think he had another job too. Never really asked. He just appeared when he appeared. Sometimes, he worked with us. Sometimes, he was off on his own.”
“Not a friend, I take it,” Alex said.
“Nah, Gordon was the only one I ever went out with after work. I know that he and BJ were friends. They used to drink together on weekends. My last summer he was there a few times and then he just stopped showing up at all.”
Alex nodded. “Any idea what BJ’s last name was?”
“Nah, sorry,” he said. “Gordon might know.”
“One more question,” Alex said.
“Sure.”
“Do you remember any of the properties you worked at?”
He nodded.
Alex pulled out a few pictures that Mrs. Moriarty had given her. “Do you remember this place?”
“Sure. That’s the Moriarty’s house.”
“Did you ever work there?” Alex asked.
“My last summer there. A few times. Mr. Moriarty was sick that year. They’d had flower beds put in a few years earlier. I remember because it was such a mess. No one had tended them. Really, they were just weeds. We weeded and it just became grass again. Kind of sad. I remember seeing them the year they were put in. Rows of orchids. It was beautiful.”
Claire looked at Alex. Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, how does your garden grow?
“You don’t know who worked on the flower beds by any chance?” Alex asked.
Jacobs shook his head. “That was my first year there. I do remember that Gordon was bummed out that we didn’t get to work there. He said everybody loved Mrs. Moriarty.”
Alex smiled. Mrs. Moriarty reminded her a bit of her mother. It was easy for her to imagine the woman doting on anyone who came to the house whether they were being paid or not. Helen Toles had always been the same way, if you stepped onto her property you were fed. “Listen, I’m sorry that we interrupted your day,” Alex said.
“I’m sorry if I wasn’t any help,” Jacobs said.
“You were. Anything and everything we learn helps,” she told him. “If we should need to…”
“Any time,” Jacobs replied.
“We appreciate that.”
Alex gestured to Claire to follow her.
“Thanks,” Claire looked at the pharmacist. “I’m sure it was a little freaky having the FBI show up at your job.”
“I almost pissed my pants if you want to know truth,” Jacobs said.
Claire laughed. “Well, I think I saw some Depends on the shelf over there. So, at least you’re in the right place. Thanks again.”
Alex looked at Claire and chuckled. “Depends?”
“Just trying to help out.”
Alex laughed. Shit, I think she’s growing on me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alex listened as three names were read to her. Christina Johnson, Michaela Brown, and Jessica Glendale—three more names to add to the list of victims, three more families to learn the fate of a loved one. That still left four women to be positively identified—four more families waiting and wondering. “What information do we have on them?” she asked her team. She was surprised wh
en Agent Robbins spoke up.
“Johnson was from Watertown, New York. Glendale and Brown were both from the west coast,” he told her.
“Go on,” Alex said.
“Glendale was a student at Syracuse University when she went missing. Here’s where it gets interesting; Brown was last seen in Taunton, Massachusetts. She was a nurse at a local hospital there,” he explained.
Alex remained expressionless. “Find out more,” she said. “Just because Taunton is where she was last seen; that doesn’t mean it was the place she last visited. I want every detail you can get about these women—all of them. I mean boyfriends, friends, where they worked, where they ate…”
“When they took a shit,” Claire interjected. Alex looked at her. “What? I’m serious. Women have routines. That’s my point.” She was surprised by Alex’s response.
“What Agent Brackett is so eloquently trying to tell you is that nothing is unimportant. We need to know their habits and we need to know if they broke those habits when they went missing.”
“Agent Toles,” Agent Robbins called for Alex’s attention. “Brown and Johnson were reported missing eleven years ago. Glendale was last seen in 2006. That’s a long time for people to remember details.”
Alex was ready to dress down the young agent when Claire spoke.
“That’s your job, Robbins,” Claire said. “To help them remember. Talk to their friends and family, their professors, classmates, lovers; hell, talk to their dogs if you think it’ll help. Finding out their names is the easy part. Finding out who they were and why they ended up here is your job.”
Alex smirked. “You heard Agent Brackett; get to it.” She turned to Claire. “First Depends, now dogs? You definitely have an interesting way with people.”
Claire shrugged. “He’s overconfident. If he’s not careful, it’ll get him fired or worse.”
Alex nodded. “Reminds me of another rookie I once knew.”
“Me too,” Claire replied. “So? What now?”
“Now? Now we go talk to Gordon Daniels.”
“You found him?”
“It’s what I do,” Alex said.
“And, where might we find Mr. Daniels?”
“He’s stationed at Quantico.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. So, that gives us an excuse to peek in on the forensics team.”
“When do we leave?” Claire asked.
“6:00 p.m. from Albany.”
“Albany?”
“Brief local law enforcement and the governor. Then? Press briefing. Bower’s orders.”
“Shit,” Claire muttered.
“Couldn’t have summed it up better myself.”
***
“Mr. Ritchie!” a reporter called out.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a comment about the FBI’s investigation into your niece’s death?”
Jed Ritchie stopped and looked at the reporter. “Apparently, it takes a dozen or more bodies before the FBI cares to investigate at all. That’s my comment.”
“The governor said this afternoon that there will be an added patrol presence on the state roads. She was emphasizing caution. Do you think if people had taken your pleas seriously, that lives could have been saved?”
“I’m sure Governor Reid finds it important now that you are asking questions. Let me ask you one. If she can’t keep the state of New York safe, how do you imagine she’ll protect the country?”
“Asshole,” Claire muttered. She clicked off the television. “Clueless asshole.”
“We agree on more than you think,” Alex said.
“Do you think he’ll cause problems?”
“For us? Distractions, maybe,” Alex replied.
“What about for the governor?”
Alex grinned. “Candace can handle Jed Ritchie.”
“You trust her.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t have a great track record with politicians,” Claire reminded Alex.
Alex laughed. “Well, maybe this one will surprise you.”
“Why? Think she’d sleep with me too?” Claire asked.
Alex sprayed the sip of coffee she’d just taken across the room. “Not a chance in hell.”
Claire grinned triumphantly.
“You did that on purpose.”
Claire shrugged. “You’re so easy, Toles.”
“I’m not that easy.”
“Don’t go there,” Claire laughed. “So? What do we know about Gordon Daniels?”
“He’s a Gunnery Sergeant. Specializes in ordinance.”
“Huh. Not our guy.”
“No. I check on a few things. No way could he have been the one to kill Kaylee or Deidre; that’s not a question. I have a feeling he’s met our guy.”
“Safe bet,” Claire agreed. “I just hope he can offer us something to go on.”
“Me too,” Alex agreed.
“Is Sergeant Daniels expecting us?” Claire asked.
Alex nodded. “I spoke with his superior earlier. Wanted to make sure he would be available. We’ll meet him at 8:00 a.m.”
Claire paced the hotel room.
“Why are you pacing?” Alex asked.
“I just don’t feel like sitting still.”
“Okay? What do you want to do?”
Claire stopped her movement and looked at Alex. “I want to know about that girl’s shirt.”
Alex sighed. “Claire, I hope they get something—I do, but we both know that could take a considerable amount of time.”
“Well, we have a timeline. Why don’t we just do some research? Come on, Toles, she had on a blue T-shirt with white lettering.”
“Claire,” Alex addressed her partner cautiously. “That T-shirt could have been from a concert, a restaurant, a movie, a team—until the lab digs into it…There are millions of possibilities.”
“Do you think Robbins and his crew will take that seriously in trying to make an identification?”
Alex’s gaze narrowed.
“Come on, Alex—that T-shirt is the best chance we have of identifying the girl quickly. If she was wearing that the last time she was seen…”
“That’s a big if.”
“Maybe it is. It’s better than anything else we have, at least until we talk to Daniels tomorrow. She’s under twenty. Eaves is almost positive she was about sixteen. She wasn’t a college student, so chances are she was local. It’s a shot.”
Alex reached across her bed and grabbed her badge and keys. “Well, pacing this room isn’t going to help us. Let’s go somewhere that can.”
“Where are we going?” Claire followed Alex to the door.
“To see about a girl in a blue T-shirt.”
***
Cassidy was enjoying a few moments of silence when she sensed a presence in the doorway to her bedroom. “Come in, Kenz,” she told her daughter without prying her eyes from the pages of the book she was holding.
“Mom?”
Cassidy set the book down and looked at her daughter. “What is it Kenz?”
“Where’d Mom go?”
Cassidy patted the bed for Mackenzie to join her. “She had to make a trip to Virginia.”
“To see Aunt Jane?”
“No, for work. She’s with Claire.”
Mackenzie bit her lip. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Mom gonna catch that guy?”
Cassidy smiled. “She will.”
Mackenzie frowned.
“Kenz? Is something bothering you?”
“Mom was on the TV again.”
Cassidy nodded. She had tried to shield her younger children from the news. The serial killer case had gained momentum. She’d been around the media enough over the years to know how it worked. There was a fine line between news and entertainment, informing and inciting people to some belief or action. It was nearly impossible to turn on the television now and not have some mention of the case Alex was working. Many times, it cam
e in the form of a short snippet advertising the evening news. Now, Alex’s case had taken on a political tone. It still amazed Cassidy that anyone sought political gain through tragedy. She’d survived that too.
“Well, I think your mom will be on the TV a lot until this is over,” Cassidy said honestly.
“People are scared,” Mackenzie said.
“They are,” Cassidy agreed. “That happens sometimes. You know, Mom and Claire will figure out who this is and they’ll stop him.”
“What if something happens to them?”
“Your mom and Claire are both very good at what they do, Kenz—very good—the best, in fact.”
“But, Mom teaches.”
“Well, that’s true. She did that for a while. That’s mostly what you remember her doing. You do know that when I met your mom she worked for the FBI.”
“Yeah, but she wasn’t on TV and stuff.”
Cassidy’s eyes sparkled with amusement. Mackenzie thought of herself as a conqueror. In reality, she was a seven-year-old that still possessed incredible innocence. Oh, if you only knew, Kenz. “That’s not actually true,” Cassidy corrected her daughter.
“Mom was on TV?”
“A few times,” Cassidy winked. “She knows what she’s doing, Kenz; I promise you.”
Mackenzie sighed.
“Something else you wanted to talk about?” Cassidy asked.
“Why is Grandpa here?”
“I thought that we explained that. Mom is going to be working late for a while, and sometimes she might be traveling. Grandpa is here to help me with all of you.”
“Why not Grandma?”
“I thought you liked it when Grandpa was here?”
“Yeah, but Grandma and YaYa take care of us when you can’t,” Mackenzie reminded her mother.
Cassidy considered how to reply. Mackenzie, while innocent, was both intelligent and intuitive. Alex was on the TV and people were talking about being afraid, and now her grandfather had temporarily moved into the house. One plus one was not a hard equation to solve. “What if I told you that I needed to have Grandpa here for a little bit?”
“How come?”
“Well, I spent a long time away from my father. Having him here is a chance for me to spend more time with him before we have a baby in the house again.”
Untold (Alex and Cassidy Book 5) Page 27