Night Fall

by Nancy Mehl

  “I’d rather come in if it’s all right with you,” she said. “I want to be there to help in any way I can. I’m meeting Monty and Logan for lunch, and I’ll head your way after that.”

  “All right. But tell Monty and Logan they don’t need to come back today.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Alex disconnected the call, then sat down on the couch again and turned up the TV’s volume. The camera showed people gathered in front of the stage. All kinds of people. Young, old, different ethnic groups. All of them appeared to be truly touched. Tears streamed down the faces of most of them. How was this any different from what people in the Circle believed? Her own words came back to her. “From what I’ve heard about Christians, they believe people can change.” The Book said nothing about that. People’s lives had been decided for them. They had no choice. Adam Walker believed he was fulfilling some destiny already designed for him.

  Christianity gave you a choice, though. It was probably one of the reasons he hated it. But what about this “plan” the preacher talked about? Was it the same thing? Did God have your life all planned out? Alex had felt such a tug at her heart when the minister spoke, but she knew what she wanted out of life. What if God called her to . . . be a missionary in some other country? She shivered at the thought. Might be nice for some people, but not for her. She doubted she could ever be a Christian if she had to surrender her future to God. She didn’t know Him. Didn’t trust Him. Didn’t trust anyone.

  She’d just downed the last of her coffee when her phone rang. Logan. She didn’t really want to go to lunch with him and Monty. She was still fighting her fear of germs, and it continued to be a struggle.

  “Stop it, Alex,” she said out loud. “You don’t have to do this. You can stop. You’ve done it before.” But when she answered her phone, her hand shook.

  “Good morning,” Logan said. He sounded sleepy.

  “Good morning,” she answered back, trying to sound chipper.

  “Hey, I just got up. It will take me a while to get ready. Where do you want to have lunch?”

  “Why don’t you and Monty go without me? I’m going back to the CP.” She shared her thoughts about Walker and new converts to Christianity. “I called Harrison and suggested that Walker might be trolling churches, looking for a woman who . . . who . . .”

  “Accepts Christ?” Logan said.

  “Uh, yeah. I guess so.” It sounded odd to hear him say it like that. She’d never felt Logan was pushy about his religion. Still, something about the vernacular embarrassed her. It sounded so . . . hokey.

  “What did he say?”

  “He thought they should follow up on it. Once again, he’s having the police contact churches in the area where we think Walker is hunting, this time for information about recent converts. It seems like a stretch, I know, but we’ve run out of ideas. The strange thing is it matches Walker’s psychology. He wants a woman he’s certain is a virgin—who knows about a woman who converted years ago?—and it helps him to strike back at the God he hates and thinks is false.”

  “So he hates Christians, but he’s willing to accept the belief that someone who converts to Christianity is cleansed? Wow. That really doesn’t make sense.”

  “I think it might to him. Gives him a perfect way to offer a sacrifice to his god. In his delusion, Walker sees this as a truly divine sacrifice.”

  Logan was quiet for a moment. “Well, it’s worth looking into, I guess. Hey, if you’ll wait a bit, I’ll go in with you.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “We can pick up something on the way. I want to see if we can help identify Walker’s sixth target before it’s too late. I’d like to look more closely at your new-convert idea.”

  “Okay. How fast are you?”

  “Faster than you think. I’ll come over when I’m ready.”

  “You’ll call Monty?”

  “Sure. My guess is he’ll want to come.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Monty had worked tirelessly since he’d arrived in Kansas City. She was certain he’d want to be with them.

  “You okay?” Logan asked.

  Fear slithered up her spine. “I’m fine. Why are you asking?”

  “Because of the other night. If you need to talk, I’m always here.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’m fine. Let’s just concentrate on finding Walker, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll be by in a bit.”

  When he hung up, Alex stared at the phone. She should have kept her life private. Why had she shared any of it with Logan? Had she made a terrible mistake? The answer to that question terrified her.

  32

  Sure enough, Monty wanted to come with them. They decided to go in one car so they could talk over how they’d approach the rest of the day. As the sixth sacrifice grew closer, all three of them had become more and more concerned. Behavioral analysis could only help to narrow a search so the actual investigators would have a better chance of finding their target. All they could do was try to give law enforcement clues to find the victim Logan was certain had already been selected.

  They swung by a fast-food taco restaurant on the way to the CP. Logan watched as Alex ordered and then paid for her food. She seemed fine today. Maybe she’d just had a problem with the Waffle Palace. It really wasn’t the cleanest place he’d ever seen, and he understood the side effects of the COVID-19 outbreak too. It took time to adjust to normal again.

  He wished Alex would talk to him. He was fascinated by her. She was smart, insightful . . . and injured. He really wanted to get to know her better. Be a sounding board for her. She didn’t seem to have anyone in her life to really talk to. He’d like to be that person if she’d let him.

  When Logan pulled into the CP, he was struck by how few cars were there. Had everyone left for lunch? They’d just stepped through the back door when Harrison waved them over.

  “Did the team go out to eat?” Logan asked as they approached the ASAC.

  “Hardly. The police needed help covering churches, trying to stop Walker from taking his next victim. They pulled in their own detectives, and some of our agents went with them.” He grunted. “The mayor wants to warn the public about Walker—and the virus.”

  “This thing will go south if he does that,” Logan said.

  “Our only hope lies with the governor,” Harrison replied. “He seems to be listening, but he hasn’t made a final decision.”

  “But if just one person from the mayor’s office decides to leak this, we’ll lose control,” Alex said. “Everyone and their neighbor will think they’re living down the street from Walker. People will panic. We’ll have a mass exit from the area. The highways will be blocked with all the traffic.”

  “And the Train Man will be able to do whatever he wants because he’ll know the police are forced to deal with the fallout. They won’t have time to look for him.”

  “So what can we do?” Logan asked.

  Harrison sighed. “I honestly don’t know. All the files, all our notes, are back there on the conference table. Can you just go over everything again? I know it seems like a waste of time. But maybe we missed something. A clue that will tell us where he’s going. Where he’s living.”

  “Of course,” Alex said.

  Logan could see the tension in Harrison’s face. He had dark rings under his eyes. Logan wanted to ask him if he’d gotten any sleep, but that would probably make him angry. Logan wasn’t his mother. Harrison would have to decide on his own if and when he needed rest.

  “By the way,” Harrison said, “I got a call from the police chief in Addis Ababa. Seems the ME there determined Martin Kirabo wasn’t murdered after all. He committed suicide.”

  “Suicide?” Alex said, her eyes wide with surprise. “That’s . . . I don’t know what to think about that.”

  “Maybe he felt remorse about what he did?” Monty offered.

  Alex shook her head. “No, that doesn’t fit. You spend months designing a deadly strain of the Ebola virus
, you send it overseas to a guy you know plans to kill thousands or millions of people, and then suddenly you feel bad about it and decide to take your own life?”

  “Are they sure?” Logan asked. “Could someone have murdered this guy and tried to make it look like a suicide?”

  Harrison shook his head as he sat down on the corner of an empty desk. “No, I’m not sure why they thought it might have been murder in the first place. But now they’re certain it was suicide. His hand had gunpowder residue on it, and they found no signs of staging. They’ve also found a suicide note in Kirabo’s handwriting.”

  “Maybe he was forced to do it,” Logan said.

  “Possible, but again, they found no sign of another person where he was discovered. It had recently rained, and only Kirabo’s footprints led to his body. No sign someone had tried to cover up their own footprints. Authorities are convinced it was suicide.”

  “You said there was a suicide note,” Alex said. “Do we have a copy?”

  Harrison pointed toward the back of the room. “Faxed over a few minutes ago. It’s on that table.” He stood. “Your food smells good. I’m going to run down the street and get some lunch. I won’t be gone long. SSA Ortega is in charge while I’m gone.”

  Harrison left to inform his second-in-command he would be gone for a while.

  “Speaking of food, let’s sit down and eat this stuff while we have the chance,” Monty said. “My stomach is growling.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You took away my nice lunch. At least let me scarf down my fast food before I spend my day going through all this paperwork—again.”

  Logan smiled at him. “Sounds fair.”

  He carried the bag of food over to the table and deposited it in the middle. Logan kept glancing at Alex, but she still seemed fine. She grabbed a plate from the stack on the table that held plates, cups, and plastic utensils. Then she sat down and pulled out her order. Maybe he’d been too hard on her. He was tired and not at his best. He sighed to himself. He needed to concentrate on the case, not on whether Alex Donovan had a germ phobia.

  But of course it wasn’t just that. He was a trained behavioral analyst, and he felt strongly that something else was going on with her. Sometimes she looked . . . haunted. He could see it in her eyes.

  He grabbed the suicide note and brought it to their table. “Do you want me to read this?” he asked.

  Alex and Monty both nodded.

  “‘To my dear family, I have done something that will bring great shame to my name. I cannot allow you to pay for my actions. I love you all too much. Please remember me with love. Martin.’”

  Logan heard only the sounds of chewing as no one said anything.

  “Sounds like he’s sorry for his part in spreading the virus,” Monty finally said after taking another large bite of his burrito. Monty didn’t usually talk with his mouth full, but when you’re trying to stop a serial killer, manners go out the window.

  “I noticed he didn’t say he was sorry for what he did,” Alex said. “He’s just sorry it will bring shame to his name.”

  “Yeah, his concern is for his own family.” Logan sighed. “I don’t see anything in this note that gives us new information about Walker.”

  “Except it seems Walker might not have known Martin as well as he thought he did,” Alex said. “Or did he know this guy would commit suicide?”

  Logan stared at her for a moment. “Good question. Was that the plan? I mean, now another way of finding Walker is gone.”

  “The Circle seems concerned with tying up loose ends. Even if this was a suicide, it may have been . . . encouraged by the Circle, if not by Walker.”

  “So now what?” Monty asked. “Are we going to rework our assessment . . . again? I’m beginning to have nightmares about this thing. Last night, I dreamt Adam Walker was stalking me, and the only way I could stop him was to answer a series of ten questions about serial killers.”

  Although the comment wasn’t meant to be funny, Logan burst out laughing. Alex joined in, and finally Monty grinned. “I’m glad you find my nightmares amusing.”

  Logan smiled. “I think we all have dreams like that. I had one once where I was in a classroom, taking a test to retain my spot in the BAU. As I worked hard to answer the questions, I looked down and realized I was dressed in pajamas my mom made for me when I was in kindergarten.”

  Another round of laughter caused the few people working in the larger room to look their way.

  Alex got up and closed the door, then sat back down. “We don’t want to disturb them. If either one of you shares another one of these bizarre dreams . . .”

  “It’s your turn, Alex,” Monty said, smiling. “Do you have any strange dreams?”

  Logan saw Alex’s lips thin, then she looked away. “No,” she said. “Nothing as amusing as yours.”

  “Okay, enough,” Logan said, trying to get the attention back to the case. “So what do we do now?”

  “We look for some piece of information we skipped over because it didn’t seem important at the time,” Alex said. “This guy has to have a base of operations. Geographic profiling tells us he lives somewhere in this area, despite his having once lived in Independence and attended a couple of Circle meetings in Wichita. Kansas City is where he was born and lived until he was seven, where he worked in that lab.” She got up and pointed at a map stuck on the large corkboard behind them. A circle had been drawn representing Walker’s comfort zone.

  Monty sighed. “Again, the guy had an apartment near his work, but that’s been completely cleared out. No forwarding address. The Evidence Response Team found only a few fingerprints, a couple on the window blinds and one on a lightbulb he changed. That’s it.”

  “No other fingerprints?” Alex asked.

  “Only the apartment manager’s.”

  “And because he could tell us when Walker moved out, we also know he lived there while he killed his first four victims and then moved somewhere else before killing his fifth victim at Union Station. That was only a little out of his comfort zone, no doubt because we were watching the rail yards. But I still don’t think that means he’ll stray far for this next killing.”

  Alex said all this slowly, as if turning the information over in her mind. “My guess is he went home to his family, wherever they are. Now he’s searching for the last victim—unless he’s already found her.”

  She stopped eating and looked at Logan, her eyes narrowed. “All the other killings were done either on or near a train. But this last victim . . .”

  Logan immediately understood what she was thinking. “This is special. He can’t kill her where he grabs her. He has to prepare her. Display her somewhere that has meaning. Every single victim has been staged. He wanted them to point to the Train Man. But . . .”

  “Maybe he’ll find a place still worthy of the Train Man but even more worthy of the Master?” Monty said.

  They finished their meals in silence. Logan was sure they were all trying to think of someplace Walker might take his next victim.

  “It has to have something to do with trains,” Alex said.

  “Or The Book.” Logan took a drink of his pop and grabbed a large folder. He thumbed through the pages. “Okay, here’s the part about the virgin.

  “‘When the Virgin who shall be washed in blood, the final sacrifice, is offered to the Master, the demons will be unleashed, and the angels will make war with the evil ones. This sacrifice will be holy, and the one who offers it will be elevated in the Master’s kingdom. He is the Destroyer. The one called to fulfill the will of the Master. Long live the Master!’”

  “This sacrifice is holy,” Alex said. “It’s different from the others. They weren’t called holy, were they?”

  Logan searched through the pages copied from The Book. “Listen to this.

  “‘When the time comes for the Master to send judgment on the earth, he will choose a servant, one who has been prepared. This demon will become the Destroyer. He will offer six perfect sacrifices before a
plague is unleashed. Destruction will come upon the angels and the demons. Only those true to the Master will survive.’”

  “I’m confused,” Monty said. “Is this Master on the side of the angels or the demons?”

  “I guess he reigns over all of them,” Alex said.

  Logan shook his head. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Right. Willow told me good cannot exist without evil. That demons were necessary. Some of them will be preserved through this war that’s supposed to begin after the plague.”

  “Boy, the Bible is a lot easier to understand,” Logan said in a low voice. “Demons bad. Angels good.”

  “But you said some angels fell.”

  Her remembering he’d told her that caught Logan by surprise. “Yes. There are fallen angels. Lucifer was one.”

  “So the Bible and The Book have some similarities.”

  “But God doesn’t send demons out to hurt people,” Logan said. “He loves us. This god of Walker’s hates humanity.”

  Alex gave him a strange look. “The Book teaches people are either angels or demons, and they have no choice. Their fate has already been determined. So Walker would never be able to accept God’s redemption as long as he believes his fate is locked in, right?” She looked away.

  Monty stayed quiet, and Logan didn’t respond. But something stirred in his heart. Did Alex think she was locked in somehow? She had obviously been thinking about the Bible and its message of redemption. Could she be seeking God?

  33

  Laura was tired. The restaurant had been busy all afternoon, but it was always packed on Sundays because so many people liked to eat out after church. That crowd gave the largest tips, though, and they were always the nicest people. It was rare to find a grumpy customer on Sundays. She enjoyed talking to everyone, but her feet were starting to hurt.

  Amy, one of the other waitresses, nodded at her, letting her know she’d cover Laura’s table while she took her break. Laura smiled at her and headed for the kitchen. She waved at Terry, who worked the grill, and told Meghan, another one of the servers, she’d be outside for a few minutes. She walked into the small hallway connected to the kitchen and took her purse out of her locker. After grabbing her cigarettes and lighter, she put on her coat and shut her locker door before stepping outside.