by Robin Mahle
***
They’d been following her around for the past couple of days, learning her routine, deciding on which spot would be the best place to make it happen. They didn’t know if the woman had a family, didn’t know if she had kids, and didn’t care either. She had been chosen and that was just her dumb luck.
“I see her; there.” Ty pointed as the woman emerged from her office in the strip mall, locking up the small dental clinic where she worked as a hygienist. “Wait till she’s closer to her car.”
Marcus wiped his brow as sweat formed. He wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or just nerves. He knew the deal. It had to be done. They had all agreed. But now that the moment was actually here, he was apprehensive; scared shitless, more like.
“We do it like we talked about, Marcus. I’ll approach her from the front, then you come around the back.”
Marcus nodded and they both stepped out of the car.
The woman turned her head at the screeching sound in the distance. It was the car door that caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she attempted to see what lay ahead in the darkness. She began to pick up her pace and was now only a few feet away from her car.
“Goddammit!” Ty whispered. “Now we gotta go after her.”
The men began their approach and she spotted them emerging from the dark. They were just feet away from her. She dropped into an all-out run, trying to make it to her car.
“Go on. Take her from the right, I’ll head straight,” Marcus said. His adrenaline was pumping fast now, fueling his desire to catch the woman, all fear evaporating.
The woman screamed. But only for a moment.
***
“She’s gonna wake up, man. Come on; don’t be a pussy.” Ty secured the woman to the bed. It had already been lined with rubber sheets and plastic as had the walls and floor. There could be nothing left behind. That was the deal.
Marcus pulled the knife out of the drawer in the kitchen. They’d agreed that it had to be that one. He walked back into the bedroom where the woman lay comatose. Ty had hit her hard and she’d been out for almost five minutes. He would do it again if she stirred. “I got it.”
“Good. You know what to do.” Ty stepped aside. “It’s gotta be like the others. We need to show all those fuckers out there that they’re living a lie. Religion, politics; none of that shit matters. We’re part of the Five. They’ll see what chaos really is.”
He leaned over the woman. Bruises were already forming on her face and arms, and even on her thighs where Ty had gotten too rough. “The Five is all that matters.” Marcus closed his eyes and upon opening them again, began to press the knife into her chest, just below her breast. As soon as the knife pierced her skin, she woke up and began to scream. Ty did exactly as he was supposed to so Marcus could continue.
Marcus sliced open her pale skin, down to her navel and up the other side. Blood spilled out over her chest and stomach, pooling onto the plastic sheet beneath her, eventually dripping onto the floor. She would not awaken this time. The pain would have been too much for her body to take.
When he was done, the grotesque symbol was complete. Now, they had to wait. Wait for her to lose enough blood and eventually die. Then, Marcus and Ty would make the early morning drive up the I-10 and place her as carefully as the others had been.
No telling how long it would take before she would be discovered, but they’d call it in themselves if it took more than a few days. The body wouldn’t last long in this heat. The animals would have a field day and they would need to be sure their masterpiece wasn’t destroyed.
***
It seemed that getting the warrant was presenting itself to be a greater challenge than the two detectives believed it would. The hour had grown late and it was questionable as to whether the judge would even get off his couch to fulfill the request. But in the end, they had convinced him of the urgency of this situation as media attention had grown considerably and the sooner they could rule out Shalot as the Highway Hunter, the better—for everyone.
Edward Shalot’s apartment building was tucked away in an older, less desirable neighborhood about twenty minutes from the college campus. Marshall and Detective Gibbons drove up along the street side of the building. Only a few of the windows were still illuminated at the late hour.
“Let’s see what we can find.” Marshall stepped out of the vehicle.
They walked along the concrete path towards the arched opening. The old Spanish architecture had begun to crumble with age and lack of proper maintenance. Inside the opening was a courtyard dotted with a few benches and the centerpiece was a pool.
Marshall and Gibbons stood in the middle of the courtyard in search of apartment 2741.
“Over there.” Gibbons pointed to the second floor in the right corner of the complex.
The pathway was sparsely lit and, in fact, the moonlight offered better illumination as they made their way up the stairs to the second floor.
“Don’t suppose you’ve got an old credit card handy?” Marshall asked. “Otherwise, we’re gonna be busting out a window.”
Gibbons pulled out his wallet and retrieved a misshapen card that had obviously seen its share of locks. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He finagled the card in between the lock and the door jamb, working to open it.
Marshall scanned the area, ensuring no one was watching. A moment later, he heard the click of the lock.
“We’re in.” Gibbons pushed the door open, exposing a darkened room. He felt along the wall for a switch, finding it near the front window that he was grateful had been spared.
The room lit up, revealing a sparsely decorated space, leaving no doubt that a single man lived there.
“I’ll go back to the bedroom,” Gibbons said. He began walking through the hall towards the single bedroom and, once inside, he spotted the files spread along the small desk in the corner. Gibbons approached the desk and began pushing around the files. Immediately, his stomach dropped. It was then he realized what they were dealing with.
“Avery, I think you should come in here.” Gibbons opened one of the files.
“What’d you find?” Marshall entered and headed towards him. He felt his heart sink at the sight of the pictures of Kate. It was then that he realized he might have misjudged Shalot, now believing that the man might just be after her. “What the hell is this?”
Gibbons expression was veiled in regret at the unsettling discovery. “This guy might not have killed Lindsay Brown, but I think we have another problem.” Gibbons pointed to the file header. “This looks like it came from the university.”
Marshall began reading the contents of the file. “Christ, these are her school records. Schedule, grades, former addresses. We need to figure out how he got his hands on these files.”
“Look, man, you better let me talk to him. This may be the way keep him in custody a while longer until we get forensics back.”
That old feeling began to resurface. The unsettling one that suggested Kate was in danger once again. His head began to spin at the possibility that he could have missed something so obvious.
Gibbons must have picked up on his thoughts. He placed his hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go and have a look in the kitchen for anything else. I’ll gather these files and bring them out.”
***
Katie lingered in the conference room at the station along with Agent Scarborough and his team. The hour was nearing dawn and she began to wonder why Marshall and Detective Gibbons had not returned.
Scarborough was listening to his senior agent discuss the profile of the killer they were looking for. “Have you determined the significance of the dandelions?”
Agent Myers had worked for the FBI for more than eight years, only last year becoming one of the senior agents at Quantico. During that time, she had compiled many different profiles, but she had never come across something or someone of this nature. “I consulted with a few botanists and they have determined some significance to that particular flower
. First of all, it is extremely hardy and can survive in any area. Some of the more symbolic meanings are that the flower or weed symbolizes faithfulness, fertility, and abundance.”
“So we are dealing with someone who believes in the nature of faithfulness and fertility.” Agent Scarborough turned to Katie, seemingly wanting her input.
Katie immediately thought of her recent loss, but pushed it away just as quickly. “And yet this person who believes in faithfulness is taking lives?”
“Maybe, but there’s also another meaning.” The agent typed on the laptop and pulled up a poem that flashed on the screen. “My contact pointed me to this poem about the flower. Take a look at the final two lines.”
And when I’m gone, please don’t show sorrow.
I’ll be back again tomorrow.
“‘I’ll be back again tomorrow,’” Agent Scarborough repeated. “This seems a little more relevant.”
The idea struck Katie hard. This was not about faithfulness or fertility. This was about the nature of the flower’s ability to come back. Over and over. Never to be eradicated. As she looked to Scarborough, it seemed he was thinking the same thing.
This, however, did not explain whether or not Shalot killed Lindsay Brown. “Agent Myers, do you believe the man we have in custody could have killed your victim in Colorado, then traveled here to take the life of Ms. Brown?” Katie asked.
The team had spent several hours at Ms. Brown’s home after reviewing the items Katie had already collected and entered into the database.
“Anything is possible, Ms. Reid; however, this does seem an unlikely scenario.” She looked to Nick. “Agent Scarborough, after interviewing the ME, what are your thoughts?”
“I don’t believe Shalot is our guy. Someone found out about the flower and the carving. Someone who had a connection to one of the previous cases and got the details. Lindsay Brown was different, though, so it was someone who didn’t know everything.”
“Unless Detectives Avery and Gibbons turn up something in Shalot’s apartment, I don’t see as we have much choice but to let him go. The killer’s still out there and we may now have a copycat out there as well.”
Scarborough noticed the time. “It’s late. We all could use some rest. Why don’t we stop for tonight and get in a few hours? We’ll plan on meeting back here at seven?”
Katie waited for the room to clear before approaching Nick. “They’re all wondering what the hell I’m doing here, Nick.”
“Look, you were on scene, collecting evidence. No one should question your involvement. At least not until this is officially declared an FBI matter. Your Captain Hearn doesn’t have a problem with you being here and neither should my team. Besides, no one else here has a personal relationship with Edward Shalot. That alone gives you the right to be here.”
“I wouldn’t call it a personal relationship.” Katie felt slightly embarrassed by the term. As if she had known the guy all her life.
“You know what I mean,” Scarborough continued. “You should go home. Get some rest.”
“I haven’t heard from Marshall, have you?” she asked.
At that moment, Gibbons and Marshall appeared in the doorway of the conference room.
“Did we miss out?” Gibbons asked.
“My guys needed some rest and I sent everyone back to the hotel. We’re meeting up again at seven. What did you find?” Scarborough asked.
Katie recognized the look on Marshall’s face. She’d seen it before. It was the same look he’d given her at the hotel back in Rio Dell. The look that meant she was about to be shut out because he was afraid for her.
Gibbons tossed the files onto the conference room table.
Katie’s mouth dropped at the sight of her name on several of the papers. “What the hell are these?” she asked, leaning in to get a better look.
“We found these in Shalot’s bedroom. We don’t have a clue as to how he got his hands on them.”
“These are my school records. Every class, every grade I’ve received. The professor’s notes. My God, everything is here. Why?”
“We need to charge him with something, fast,” Marshall began. “The warrant only allowed us to search his apartment in connection with the Lindsay Brown murder. We found nothing of hers at his place. Nothing that would suggest he was involved in her death. We’ve already got her computer and the computer lab is searching that and her phone records. So far, they haven’t turned anything up as it relates to Shalot. It appears as though he didn’t harass her, or send her messages other than relating to their dates.”
“And yet she filed a restraining order?” Scarborough said.
“Yes. According to the order, he had threatened her on their final date a few days ago,” Gibbons replied.
“Look, if I could just talk to him again; ask him why he had my records,” Katie began.
“Hell no,” Marshall said. “Are you kidding me? A woman he dated is dead and we find a bunch of files having to do with you in his apartment? No. Absolutely not.”
Katie reddened with embarrassment. She felt as though she’d just been scolded by her father. It seemed the others had taken notice as well. Scarborough quickly looked down at the files again, appearing to pretend he hadn’t heard the reprimand.
“If we can’t bring charges against Shalot, he’s going to be going home in a few hours,” Gibbons said. “I’ll talk to him. I think it’s a good idea if you three observe in the back room.” Gibbons turned to Marshall. “I don’t want you in there, understand?”
Marshall tossed a reluctant nod in his direction. He wasn’t happy about any of this.
***
One of the officers brought Shalot into the interrogation room. The man appeared exhausted as if he’d just been awakened, which he likely had, given that it was almost four in the morning. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled.
The officer began to shackle him to the hooks embedded in the concrete floor, but Gibbons waved him off. “We won’t be needing that, will we, Mr. Shalot?”
“No, sir,” Edward replied.
Gibbons sat down in the chair opposite and nodded to the officer to take leave. He turned his attention back to Shalot. “We found some very interesting items back at your apartment, Mr. Shalot.”
Edward’s expression hardened. “How the hell…”
Gibbons didn’t bother letting him finish. “How did you come by the files of our Ms. Katie Reid? Why would you have possession of her school records, Mr. Shalot?”
“I thought I was here because of Lindsay Brown? You people think that I killed her, isn’t that right?”
“The FBI is here to determine that, Eddie. But right now, I’m very curious as to what your interest is in Ms. Reid. Care to enlighten me?”
“Look. I know my rights. I don’t have to say anything to you. Are you gonna charge me with something? ‘Cause if not, then I have a right to leave.”
Katie, Marshall, and Nick stood behind the desk in the observation room, staring at the monitors.
“I don’t like where this is going,” Marshall said.
“No, neither do I,” Scarborough replied.
Katie didn’t know exactly what they were suggesting, but she was getting the sense that the law was not on their side this time. It was a frightening revelation to hear that Edward had somehow obtained her school records, but she hadn’t a clue as to why. The man hardly said but a few words to her. What interest was she to him? More importantly, why was he becoming increasingly defensive at Gibbons’ questions?
The detective cast a subtle glance at the camera in the corner of the room, behind Shalot. It seemed he had honed in on Marshall’s and Nick’s concern. “You realize the prosecutor has forty-eight hours to bring charges and we can hold you for the duration. At last check,” Gibbons turned his wrist to check the time, “it’s hardly been twenty-four.”
“Look. You know I didn’t kill Lindsay. Why the hell would I have stuck around and called 911?” Edward leaned against th
e table. “I didn’t kill her, goddammit. So what? Now you think I’m gonna go after Katie Reid?”
“Why the hell did you have her school records in your goddam bedroom, Eddie?”
Edward closed his eyes. “I want a lawyer.”
And that was it. Gibbons’ could ask the man as many questions as he wanted without charges, but as soon as he uttered those words, the game was changed. Now, Shalot could get a court-appointed lawyer.
Gibbons began to rise. “That’s your right, Eddie.” He started to walk out of the room.
“It’s Edward!” Shalot rose up.
“Calm yourself there, Eddie. You’re starting to act like you got something to hide.” Gibbons opened the door, but before leaving, ensured he got in one last jab. “You picked the wrong girl to stalk, my friend.”
Edward turned his face upwards and looked into the camera. “Katie, if you’re listening, I swear to you, I didn’t kill Lindsay. Please, you have to believe me.”
He was quickly interrupted by the same officer who brought him in. “Come on. You’re done here.” The officer grabbed Shalot by the arm and twisted it behind his back.
“Please, just let me explain, Katie. Please talk to me.”
Katie watched as Edward was escorted out of the room. She turned to Marshall. “The only way we’re going to get any answers is if you let me talk to him. You know that as well as I do.”
Marshall shot a glance to Scarborough. He looked as though he was in agreement with her.
“You can’t protect me all the time, Marshall. You have to let me do my job.” Katie was pleading now. It was as if this past year hadn’t even happened. All of the gains she’d made in her career. All of the nights spent working through what had happened with Hendrickson. All of it seemed to have been erased by Shalot’s words.
“When do you expect the labs to come back?” Marshall asked Scarborough.
“We should know something later today, or this evening. We may not have everything, but I think we’ll have enough to know whether or not we can charge Shalot with anything. Relating to Brown anyway. This other issue, well, it’s opened up a whole new can of worms. The problem is, I still have a serial killer out there.”