by Cat Connor
Caine stopped outside a solid wooden door. We were on the management floor of the hospital. He flung open the door and beckoned us in. At a large table in the center of the room sat three agents I knew well. They all looked up and nodded. At the far end of the table sat another person known to me, but not expected at this gathering.
“Ellie, how are you feeling?” she asked, indicating we should all sit.
“All right, thank you, Executive Assistant Director Owen.”
I was impressed with my ability to say her title and not muck it up. With luck, I covered my surprise at seeing her with my smooth move into introduction phase. “This is Cormac Connelly. Mac, Executive Assistant Director Owen, of the Criminal Investigation Division.” Mac stepped forward and shook her beautiful, manicured hand. As always Executive Assistant Director Owen was picture perfect, making me feel like I had crawled backwards through a thorn bush before landing on my ass in dog poop. She smiled charmingly at us both.
“No doubt you are wondering why I am here. When Special Agent in Charge Grafton told me an agent of ours was involved in the Son of Shakespeare case, we made the decision to safeguard the relationships inside this division and prevent any conflict of interest clouding the case.”
“You’re running this?” I blinked, trying not to appear stunned. To my knowledge, the Executive Assistant Director never became involved in specific cases. What if she chipped a nail? What if a strand of hair broke free and got in her eye? I bit my tongue so hard at that point as an image of Owen dragging her beautiful sleek red hair back into an unruly ponytail, while running down an alleyway, leapt to the forefront of my warped mind. As if she could run in those heels! She was still talking. I dragged my focus away from the amusing scene and back to her.
“I conducted all internal inquiries, oversaw the polygraphs and DNA testing of the entire criminal investigation division.”
Damn that was one hell of a task. That means Caine is clear. Whew!
“Why are you here?” By the glare Caine gave me, I realized I sounded snappish, which was unintentional; however, she didn’t seem to notice.
“The next phase of this case must run without a hitch and without any prejudice on the part of the Division or we’ll destroy any chance of convicting this felon.”
It sounded like she knew who it was. “You have information on an identity?”
“I have information that brings us closer to discovery.”
A photograph passed down the table to me. The dumpster body. It was a woman, but I didn’t see how this brought us closer to anything, except, to my knowledge he hadn’t killed any other women. The photograph sent no rushed messages to my mind except total revulsion from standing in this woman’s guts.
“Do you recognize this person?”
I wanted to shake my head but didn’t, for fear of leaving a trail of brains across the wall behind me. Convincing everyone else I was okay was a lot easier than actually being okay. “No.”
She slid another photograph over, “How about this person?”
I sank back into the chair holding the photograph in my hand. I found myself staring at a familiar face. Even though I hadn’t seen her in over five years, I recognized my best friend from High School. My eyes went back to the first picture.
“Karen Brown,” I replied, and compared the pictures. It was the same person. The realization that I had stood in Karen’s guts didn’t sit well in mine. My stomach threatened to mutiny at any second. Caine pressed a glass of water into my left hand.
“Sip it,” he cautioned.
Owen spoke, “She married several years ago, and became Karen Midlow. She was an advertising executive.”
“And?” I placed the photograph on the table and leaned back in the chair, sipping the cool water.
“Her body was covered in cat hair fibers. They’re an exact match for your brother’s cat. Some of the hairs contained skin tags, we have DNA and, as with all the bodies, the cat DNA is a match for Aidan’s cat.”
I felt my whole body stiffen.
Cat DNA, Jesus! No way was this going to land on Aidan.
I guessed they couldn’t arrest a cat on suspicion of murder. I studied her face for a few minutes.
This cannot be happening!
“Get Aidan in here. There is no way in hell he is the Son of Shakespeare.”
Mac’s hand was on my arm, a gentle pressure that cautioned me to be still.
Caine slid into the chair on my right and spoke, “Who else knew about the connection between you and Karen?”
“I don’t know, but Aidan didn’t kill anyone.”
“Where’s the video footage from the psych floor?” Mac asked, “Was there anything useful on that?”
I watched Caine. “Aidan was there. He visited his mother—”
I clenched my teeth and hissed, “He did not kill her!”
“I know,” he replied, his gruff voice calm. “He never went in the room. He watched her from the window accompanied by a member of the nursing staff. Ten minutes after he left someone else entered the room, dressed as staff and unchallenged. We showed the picture to all staff and doctors on that floor. No one recognized him.”
“Show me,” I demanded.
Owen passed me a picture. Mac and I scrutinized it. I had no idea who it was.
“I need a private word with Ellie,” Mac announced taking my hand.
Caine and Owen both nodded in agreement.
Lee, who had said nothing since we’d arrived, said, “There’s a small room through that door on your right, it’s private.”
“Thanks, Lee.” Mac stood and pulled my chair out for me.
We left the quiet table for the sanctuary of the other room. “Do you believe this?” I said, my head spinning at the mere thought of them considering my brother as a serious suspect.
Mac paced several feet then came back. “What will happen if we hand Caine the GPS?”
“I’ve withheld information. I could lose my job and be charged.”
“Can we explain to Owen that as far as we were concerned Caine could have been a suspect, which is why we said nothing?”
This is so not a good situation. “Might have to try. I need someone to go to Aidan and search him and everything he has with him. He must have a GPS tracker on him somewhere too.”
I was sure he hadn’t dumped Karen’s body, but he said he’d dropped off clothing. Could someone have followed him? Did the same person track us to our mother’s room and wait until Aidan visited before killing her?
“Well, if we come clean now, we can have him brought here.”
“They won’t let us be in on the interview.”
“They tape everything though, huh? We can watch from in here if they set up a closed circuit TV.”
“Might be a big ask considering I’ve been sitting on evidence for a few days.”
Mac treated me to an evil grin. “We can play the concussion card if we have to. You have a skull fracture, and recovering from an earlier concussion. Even better, you were drugged with ketamine – you have enough medical testimony alone to more than compensate for the ‘forgetting’ to tell Caine about the GPS ... and I’m sure he’d go for the video thing.”
“It’s not his decision, it’s Owen’s. Caine has a conflict of interest in this case. There is a good chance she won’t allow him in on the interview.”
I watched Mac assimilate the information. His brow creased, he pushed his hair back off his face, running his hands through it. Somewhere inside me a light went on, and a warm glow spread upward, carrying with it the strength Mac possessed and Waylon Jennings singing ‘Luckenbach Texas’.
Oh great, now I hear country songs!
For a second, I thought Mac heard it too.
He wrapped his arms around me and whispered into my hair, “I vote we come clean about the GPS now and tell them we think Aidan was bugged as well. Then without even pausing, run the taped interview up the flag pole.”
“Deal.” I hugged him hard, noticin
g he wore two holsters.
So that’s where my gun went.
“Hey ... where is the bug?”
“In my pocket.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his breath ruffled my hair. “When this is over, I want to take you away.”
“I’d love that.”
“Ready?”
“Yeah.” Most of me wanted to go away now, right now, for the two of us just to walk out and never come back. Crazy talk, as if I could leave Aidan to the vultures. Fuc’n cat DNA.
“One sec ... do they have enough to arrest, or hold, Aidan right now?”
“Not as far as I know. They have circumstantial evidence at best. They can ask that he help them with the inquiry but he doesn’t have to agree to an interview. In this instance, it would be best if he did.”
“You’re sure?”
“No, I’m not. I guess they could arrest his mean-assed cat.” The thought of that damn cat in handcuffs floated my boat. I don’t recall ever disliking an animal as much as that one.
“Let’s do it.”
I steeled myself against the coming storm. We had a fight on our hands.
A grayish haze settled inside my head, blurring details and thoughts into blobby masses. Mac remained beside me when we went back to the torture chamber, presided over by the head witch hunter, Dana Owen. I had a feeling that Owen wanted everything neat and tidy and packed away in a little box.
This isn’t a fold-it-away-neatly type of case!
In that regard, it mimicked the mess inside my own head.
Twenty-Nine
Mystery Train
Owen’s eyes settled on mine from across the table; she appeared contemplative, which I hoped was a good thing for us. Her elbows rested on the table as she tapped her long French-manicured nails together, click, click. I bet she clicks pens too. It grated on my raw nerves, but I told myself that snapping at her to “stop” would not help our cause.
“All right. But I don’t want Caine, you or Mac present during the interview.”
My eyes closed as I offered a silent prayer of thanks before speaking, “Thank you, ma’am. Can Lee set up a video link so we can hear and see what’s happening?”
“Yes.”
Why is she being so nice? Who cares why as long as she is, that’s what matters. And at least the infernal clicking has stopped.
I watched Lee leave the table and take a small case into the other room.
I weighed up the risk of telling her how to do her job and my need for this to be thorough.
Screw it. This is my brother’s life we’re all playing with.
I reminded her of the discussion we had before she agreed to the interview. “Everything Aidan is carrying needs to be closely inspected. This guy is good. If he can devise a way of hiding a GPS in my mascara, there’s no telling what else he could come up with.”
“Understood, Ellie.”
I let my head rest in my hands, hoping to ease the throbbing.
Mac whispered in my ear, “You okay?”
Owen spoke again, “If you need to lie down, Ellie, I think we will all understand.”
Why is she being so nice? It’s not right.
“Mac ...” I think that was audible.
“What do you need?”
I need this to go away. I need everything to stop. I need Aidan not to be a suspect. I need coffee. I need quiet. Uh oh!
My hand reached out and shoved Mac away. I turned sideways in the chair trying to quell rising nausea. No amount of swallowing was going to help. A white container appeared, not a moment too soon, held in Mac’s hands.
Way to be professional, Ellie.
“You done?” he asked and handed me a tissue.
“Much better, thanks.”
“You should be in bed. This is a bad idea.”
I lifted my head to see him. He was pale and looked unwell. I guessed I didn’t look too flash either. My head swum.
“I’m okay, carry on.”
Owen talked on the phone; a few minutes later she hung up. “I doubt you’ll agree to go to your room. I have asked for a doctor to join us for the duration of the interview.”
“That’s not necessary.” And some kind of violation of FBI interview practice, to bring a civilian in during an interview.
We don’t do that kind of thing!
“Yes it is, and he is not a civilian.”
I never said that aloud – damn woman is in my head!
“You know Special Agent Kurt Henderson?”
I knew Kurt, last time I saw him was outside the Interscape Café with a woman who had fallen.
Mac gave me a questioning look and asked, “Kurt?”
“He was at the Interscape. But I didn’t know he was a doc.”
“Well, he is,” Owen replied. “And he’s downstairs now, reading your file.”
Okay, fine, whatever.
“He’ll join us in a few minutes. Sam is bringing Aidan up in ten minutes. That should give us plenty of time to get you all settled in the other room.”
Mac held out his hand, helping me stand. “We’ll go in now, there’s a sofa Ellie can rest on.”
Lee still worked in the room. I lay on the sofa. It was cooler and quieter in there.
Mac and Lee chatted a bit, and then Mac helped him get the equipment organized.
My mind dredged through silt, mud and a dreadful panicky feeling. “Who said, for every human problem, there is a neat, simple solution and it is always wrong?”
“H. L. Mencken,” Lee said. “I thought she wanted this folded away a little too quickly, myself. I’ll be in there, Ellie. There’ll be zero room for her to railroad your brother into a bunch of murder charges.”
My fear was real. Whoever was responsible will be facing the death penalty. Killing federal agents in the State of Virginia was not a smart move. There would be no room for plea bargaining, not with so many deaths attributed to the person, and four federal agents in the count. I didn’t want that to be my brother’s fate because someone had an axe to grind. “He doesn’t know Mom’s dead.”
“I’ll tell Owen. We’ll keep away from that as much as we can. I doubt it will be necessary to bring up your Mom’s death.” He shut his case. “We can reinterview should we need to.”
“Done?” Mac asked, straightening up.
“Yep,” Lee replied. They shook hands.
I let my eyes close as the room fell quiet.
When I next managed to break free from the fog, Kurt sat on the floor by me.
“Hi.”
Simple greeting but the response eluded me as I concentrated on roping in my wandering mind. It just needs to learn not to go off alone. Not until it proves it can take care of itself.
“Ellie? Did you hear me?” He shone a light into my eyes.
Fantastic! Just what I need, torture! I thought the torture chamber was in the other room. Dah!
“Kurt, quit with the light.”
He smiled. “Thanks for joining us.” He looked different wearing a white lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Guess he borrowed it from someone.
“Is it Halloween already?” I tweaked his stethoscope. “Nice touch, Doc.” I quelled the urge to call him Hawkeye and stopped the theme from MASH before the never-ending repeat cycle started in my mind.
I took a few moments to focus. Caine sat on a chair not far from the sofa. I had the feeling that if I wasn’t so dumb-assed and stubborn, I’d be doing better. It wouldn’t have killed me to admit to being injured and take the wheelchair offer. I seem to take stubborn to new and dizzying heights every day.
“What have I missed?”
“Aidan is in there. They’re searching him now,” he replied, not shifting his gaze from the TV screen.
“Is he doing okay?”
“He seems fine, cooperative, he said a few minutes ago that he just wanted to help anyway he could.”
“Have they asked him anything yet?”
“No.” Caine
held his hand up indicating I should shush for a bit. Then leaned forward and turned the sound up. “They found a device.” He squinted at the screen then at me. “Inside his cell phone. You were right.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, as I said a quiet prayer of thanks to whomsoever it was that looked after us. We all watched as Lee took the device and settled in front of a laptop. A few minutes later, he announced to the room that this new device had also been destined for destruction.
“So now what?” Mac asked.
“Question time. Did you see the look on Owen’s face?”
Mac nodded.
“She’s not a happy camper,” Caine replied, he sounded worried.
“Has anyone bothered to try and find the man who entered Mom’s room?” I couldn’t keep the bitchy tone from my voice.
“We’ve had no luck.”
My mind danced over what I thought was a possibility. “The lack of human trace evidence at the scene and the bodies ... you suggested a protective suit of some kind. Could this person be a crime scene investigator or someone from the Laboratory Division?”
“I think that’s quite possible. But Owen in there,” he said and indicated towards the TV with a sharp nod, “is convinced it’s someone close to you.”
“Well, it’s someone who knew I knew Karen. How far back did you go with acquaintances?”
“College. She pulled the plug on that.” Caine glowered at the screen and growled, “Preconceived ideas. The woman has no damn clue what she’s doing!”
No wonder she’s being so nice.
I felt as though she was gunning for my brother as the Son of Shakespeare killer. I blinked twice and witnessed my career go up in smoke.
Mac’s hand rested on my arm. I watched his fingers tracing the cast. “In Ellie’s High School yearbook I found a comment by someone. It’s a long shot but we have nothing to lose ... this kid wrote, ‘One day you’ll notice me.’”
“Ellie, you have anything to add?”
“Nope, I hardly remember him, his name was Tommy.” Something else bugged me. “The DNA sample from under my nails ... where the hell is it?”
Caine replied, “Quantico.”
“Owen said she’d run our entire division against that sample ... and got nothing. Did she run mine?”