“His e-mail we read a few hours ago says he’s targeting women who turned their back on their faith,” Cal said. “Have you looked into Yasin’s faith?”
“Sure,” Rick said. “But maybe there’s something there. I’ll dig deeper.”
“Good,” Max said. “Then each of you have your assignment.”
“What about Tara?” Cal asked. “I won’t leave her here with just anyone.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. Kaci and Shane, with your work predominately on the Internet and phone, you can work from here, right?”
“I wish it was that easy,” Kaci said. “But I need our equipment if you want me to investigate these e-mails and not let anyone know I’m searching.”
“Okay, what about you, Shane?”
“Sure, I can hang out here, but it would be good to have another agent as backup in case I need to track something down.”
“I’ll say it again, it can’t be just anyone,” Cal cautioned.
“What about Phillip Ward?” Brynn asked. “We vetted him for that op last year. He’s a former Army Ranger and should fit the bill nicely.”
“He meet your expectations, Cal?” Max asked.
“Yeah, if I can’t be here, he’ll do,” Cal said, though Tara could hear his reluctance.
“I’ll get on the phone right now and have him reassigned.” Max clapped his hands. “So get to it, people. I’ve already requisitioned the plane and pilot, and I want wheels up in two hours flat.”
Tara heard the team stirring and decided she should join them. She had mixed feelings about the meeting and Max’s decisions. She didn’t want Cal to leave, but not because she didn’t feel safe with Shane and this Agent Ward. She did, but she didn’t want to be separated from Cal.
How pathetic was that? He’d reminded her in the car why they weren’t right for each other, and she still didn’t want to see him go.
Staring at his phone, Max stepped into the hallway and almost barreled into her. “Tara, good. Cal tells me you remembered a few schematics from the pump house, too.”
She nodded. “Now that I’m cleaned up, I’ll get started sketching them.”
“Keep up the good work. You may be just the person we needed to break this case wide open.” He gave a quick nod of acknowledgment and stepped outside.
In the living room, the others were gathering their things. All except Cal, who stood staring out over the backyard.
“Hey, Tara,” Kaci greeted her. “How you holding up after this latest news?”
“Fine,” she replied, but kept her focus on Cal.
He turned to look at her. “I need to have a word with you in private.” He slid open the patio door.
She joined him on the deck, for once not enjoying the lovely yard or the sweet scent of flowers, as she couldn’t look away from his tense jaw and narrowed eyes.
“I’ll be leaving for Oregon in the next few minutes.”
“I know. I was in the hallway when you were discussing it. I probably should have made my presence known, but I thought you all would want to finish the discussion before I interrupted.”
Her admission brought a megafrown to his face. “You likely heard the Dallas woman’s name mentioned.”
“I did, and I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to know that.”
“Just be sure you don’t mention it to anyone else.”
“It’s not like I’ll be talking to anyone but you and your teammates.”
“True, but I have to caution you anyway.”
“I’m sorry, Cal. I guess I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”
“What’s done is done.” His frown deepened, but he didn’t honestly seem upset about her overhearing the woman’s name.
Tara knew the guilt that was plaguing him hadn’t lessened. In fact, it spoke to one of his strengths, caring about others so much that he was willing to sacrifice himself for them. Which was why he would go to Oregon.
“I’ll have my cell on, so you can call if you need me for anything. Due to the ease of tapping a landline, there isn’t one in this house, so be sure to keep your cell charged at all times.”
She nodded. “So you’ll be leaving right away?”
“Yes. I wish I didn’t have to go, but with Keeler shortening the time between bombs, it’s even more important for me to work the Oregon scene.”
Before he takes another life, Tara thought, but she didn’t voice thoughts that would only exacerbate Cal’s angst.
Chapter 23
Washington, D.C.
3:30 p.m.
Wheels up in three.” The pilot’s voice came over the jet’s intercom as the plane sat on the runway awaiting takeoff.
Cal heard his teammates clicking on their seat belts behind him. He’d chosen to sit alone in the front of the plane, a photocopy of Keeler’s most recent journal on his lap. Cal would use the flying time to read Keeler’s tirades. Tara had suggested she keep the journals to read, but even if they weren’t evidence and had to remain in the FBI’s custody, there was no way he’d let her read even a photocopy before he’d prescreened them. Not only because he wanted to predict how she would react to the information, but also his gut said the journal contained items that the team would need to remain confidential.
The plane lurched forward and taxied, gaining speed. As the wheels rolled over the runway, he rested his head back on the seat. He told himself it was because vibrations would make it hard to read, but in reality, he wasn’t up to getting into the head of a crazy man, the killer who was targeting the amazing woman who’d somehow made her way into Cal’s heart. If her response to the almost-kiss in the car was any indication, she’d opened her heart to him, too.
How had he let that happen?
She’d been hurt enough lately, and when this was all over, he would hurt her again, because he still had to come to grips with the senseless loss of lives, and it was unfair to ask her to wait around while he did.
Unease weighed down on him, and he concentrated on relaxing the tension in his muscles. He’d used the same procedure hundreds of times before SEAL missions, and he always followed it with a quick catnap. Fifteen minutes and he was good to go for hours.
Breathe in and out. In and out.
He suddenly felt someone standing over him. His hand automatically went to his weapon before he opened his eyes and remembered he was safely ensconced in their jet.
“Whoa there.” Brynn’s hands went up to warn him off.
He lowered his gun. “Sorry.”
“Bad dreams.”
He shrugged, but she had to know he hadn’t reacted like a normal person might respond. Normal, right. Who was normal these days? He’d responded like most people in the military and law enforcement. And for the Knights who’d all seen combat and had their own demons to contend with? His behavior was the norm for the team.
“Mind if I sit?” she asked.
If she planned to try to get him to open up, he’d send her packing, but for now, he gestured at the seat across the aisle and shoved the pile of journal pages between his leg and the cushion. “What’s up?”
“I thought you’d like to know that DNA came back on the Remington.”
“By your less-than-enthusiastic expression, I’d say we didn’t get Keeler’s DNA.”
“Sorry, no. But we’re still in preliminary evidence evaluation, and we could link him to the gun in other ways.” She smiled. “At least we have the journals from today. Those should contain touch DNA.”
Right. The journals that likely held horrible thoughts about Tara.
“You look a million miles away,” Brynn said.
He lifted the stack of papers. “I need to get started reading the journal entries.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“Does anyone ever want to get inside the head of a psychopath?”
“I suppose not.” She got up. “The reading might be horrible, but it could give us the lead we desperately need.”
He nodded, and she stepped away. H
e turned to the first page, dated six months before the first bombing. As predicted, the pages were filled with Keeler’s perceived mistreatment by society. By the bank who repossessed his family’s farm. His employer and Tara, neither of them appreciating his amazing skills and brilliance. He followed each tirade with ways that his affiliation with ISIS would let him seek revenge. The pages contained pretty much everything Cal had expected, but he hadn’t expected Keeler to be so cruel when it came to Tara.
Cal dreaded asking her to read the pages of filth uttered about her, but he would have to ask. Sure, Cal could ask her questions about things he’d read in the journal, and he would do that, but just as she’d known things about the items they’d taken into evidence that Cal would never have come up with on his own, she could see notes in the journal that meant something only to her.
He swallowed hard, his hand curled and ready to strike, but he continued on instead, highlighting passages that needed follow-up. On page twenty, Keeler raved about a woman he’d met at temple, a Nabijah Meer.
Temple? Cal sat up. They’d been unable to locate a temple associated with Keeler. Cal read faster. He hit page thirty-seven, and his mouth dropped open.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Kaci.
“You can hardly be in the air yet, so this must be important,” she said when she answered.
“It is,” he said. “I’ve been reading Keeler’s journal, and you’ll never guess what I found.”
* * *
Mount Hood National Forest, Oregon
5:15 p.m.
Cal stood at the base of the destroyed fire tower and stared at the gruesome scene. The sun hung high in the sky, the temps were in the midseventies with a cool breeze playing over the area, and the birds chirped in the distance, all in direct contrast to the sight before him.
The tower’s front supports had been severed, leaving the platform dangling from the back with all the windows and one wall blown completely out. The balcony where he’d watched Tara, the room he’d locked her in, all destroyed. A woman dead. For what? Because Keeler was obsessed with Tara and couldn’t have her?
Cal shook his head and stepped closer. The ME had already removed the remains and though Cal hadn’t wanted to see the woman, it could have helped in his evaluation of the bomb.
How long had this woman sat with a bomb around her neck, paralyzed with fear while waiting for it to explode? Had Keeler needed it to occur at a certain time, or was the time of the explosion random? Did Keeler even place the bomb, or was he still in D.C. and one of his accomplices did his dirty work for him?
All Cal knew at this point was the area was so far removed from civilization that no one had heard the explosion. When the fire lookout failed to call in, her supervisor sent someone to check on her and found the tower in ruins.
Cal continued to stare, and for some reason, the team’s mission statement ran through his head.
Readiness. Response. Resolution.
Yeah, right.
Sure, they’d responded and would hopefully resolve the situation in due time, but ready? Nah, they hadn’t been ready. Tara had no affiliation with this woman, so none of them had seen this coming.
Nor had the poor woman. When Cal had made that phone call for a replacement, he’d effectively sent her to her death. So what if he understood that he wasn’t responsible for the other women who died? This death was his fault. All his fault. He should have predicted Keeler’s actions and requested a man to take Tara’s spot. And worse yet, even as he looked at the scene of another woman’s death, Cal felt relief that he’d gotten here in time to prevent Tara from being Keeler’s next victim.
He tightened his fist. There was nothing within reach to punch, and his anger climbed to a frenzy. If he spotted Keeler right now, Cal would take the man apart with his bare hands.
His phone rang, and he snapped it from his belt in frustration. He spotted Kaci’s name and hoped she was calling about Nabijah Meer, the woman he’d discovered in Keeler’s journal.
“Tell me you have something for me.”
“I haven’t actually located Meer, but I did determine the name Nabijah comes from the Indian and Muslim world and means ambitious, leader, and brave. Meer’s a common Indian surname that means prince or ruler.”
“So you’re thinking she belongs to an aristocratic family?”
“Maybe. I’m going to follow that direction to see where it leads.”
“None of the victims were Indian.”
“No, they weren’t, and neither is Sarra Yasin.”
“So it might not mean anything.” Cal took a breath and let it out. “Get back to me the minute you have more on Meer, okay?”
“You got it.”
They disconnected, and he looked at the tower with Kaci’s thoughts fresh in his mind.
Had Meer helped Keeler with the other bombs and taken out this tower while Keeler headed back to D.C. to kill yet another woman? Or had Sarra Yasin or both women been assisting him all along in planting the bombs?
Cal needed answers. Needed them now. He spun to retrieve his equipment and spotted Max and Brynn in a deep discussion. He started for them, but Max broke away and met Cal in the middle.
“What’s up?” Cal asked, though he suspected Max planned to lecture him on how to let go of his guilt and do his job.
“You’re blaming yourself for this woman’s death,” Max said, as if Cal had written his script for him.
“Maybe.”
Max opened his mouth, but Cal held up a hand, stopping him. “Before you go spouting some mumbo jumbo about this being Keeler’s fault and only his fault, there’s no need to say it. I get it in theory.”
“Actually,” Max said. “I was going to say that Brynn and I understand what you’re going through. We should have thought this might happen, too, and we want this killer found as badly as you do. So let’s stop staring at the ruins and get moving.”
Cal had to admit Max’s comment took him by surprise, as did the ease in which he seemed to let it go. “And just like that, you move on?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I? I hate that a woman lost her life. That all these women have died because we underestimated Keeler, but we’re human. We only have the abilities God gave us, and we make mistakes. Granted, our mistakes can be more costly than most, but come on, man. In this kind of job where people often burn out. If we didn’t move on, we’d soon be paralyzed. Then how many people might die?”
“Interesting way to look at it.”
“I suggest you give it some thought. Might help you deal with that anger I keep cautioning you on.”
Good advice and something Cal needed to consider, but most important now was finding a strong lead. He nodded at Brynn. “Brynn looks like she’s getting antsy.”
“Then let’s get going so she has something to do.”
They marched across the field to join her.
“Despite our warning to the contrary, odds are good that the locals have trampled the evidence,” Cal said. “But let’s forget that for now and run this like any other investigation. I’ll start by evaluating and setting the appropriate perimeter.”
Brynn nodded. “Since Kaci’s not here, I’ll handle the photography in addition to my usual forensic duties.”
“And I’ll log evidence and anything else either one of you need me to do,” Max said.
Cal never thought he’d see the day when Max did grunt work. “As much as I hate being here, having you as my gopher might make it palatable.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Max replied good-naturedly.
Cal’s mood lifted a notch, and he went to the rental car to grab his gear, then marched up to the officer in charge, who happened to be Deputy Andrews. A good thing in Cal’s eyes, as it gave him hope that the personnel access log that Cal had explained the importance of at the last bombing would be complete.
“Log, please.” Cal held out his hand.
Andrews handed it over, and Cal ran a finger down the list. The sheriff had logged in.
Not surprising. The only other people listed were the ME and two additional deputies who first responded to the scene.
Cal looked up. “I don’t see any bomb disposal personnel listed here.”
“There hasn’t been any called to the scene.”
Cal gaped at him. “So no one has walked the area to look for secondary devices?”
Andrews narrowed his eyes. “Well, yeah, the first guys to arrive checked things out.”
“But they’re not trained.”
“Before you tell us how we’re a bunch of locals and we don’t know what we’re doing, you didn’t call them out for the other bomb either.”
“That’s because I have EOD credentials, and I checked the scene myself.”
“Right.” A sheepish look slid over the deputy’s face.
“I need you to move back a minimum of a hundred feet and make sure no one approaches until after I finish my inspection.”
Andrews didn’t waste any time but took off at a quick march. Cal moved in the opposite direction and took his time checking the ground before placing his foot down. As he approached the tower, a caustic smell filtered into the air, but at least the building hadn’t burned, and he wasn’t smelling torched wood.
He made a wide circle and, each time around, he moved closer to the tower until he was standing near the back wall where the two supports remained intact. Something suspicious sat near the ground at the far post. He slowly closed in on it until he made out a rudimentary bomb similar to the one in the cabin crawl space, but this one didn’t have a timer. Which meant it would be remotely detonated.
It could have been set in case the necklace bomb failed. Or was it? Maybe it was intended to take out first responders or the Knights. If so, the person with the trigger had to be close by watching for the opportune time to detonate. Like now. When he stood less than a foot away from the device.
He spun and ran full-out toward Deputy Andrews. Before he traveled more than fifty feet, the device exploded, sending concussive waves through the ground and catapulting Cal through the air.
Fatal Mistake--A Novel Page 21