Cajun Fire

by Rick Murcer

  A familiar buzz interrupted her thoughts as she glanced at the laptop. She did a double-take.

  Daryl Brooks had just received another email.

  Dropping her feet to the tiled floor, she reached for the mouse to click the message, then hesitated.

  Slow is better. Always.

  Taking a deep breath, she read the header of the email. It said ‘Vacation Information’ and the sender’s address started out with ‘No-reply’ then ‘getawaytrips@sailme.com.’

  Anna relaxed and hit the mouse’s left button.

  The screen immediately turned death-message blue, except for five words in the middle. WE SAIL IN TWO DAYS.

  CHAPTER-36

  Manny nodded toward Alex. He thought he’d be more surprised, but somehow, he’d known that Lucretia was the killer of those five men throughout the south four years ago, hadn’t he? His conversation with Sophie in the SUV said so. Sometimes Alex’s definition of intuition was true. Facts are the building blocks for it. Some people have a better knack than others at using those facts.

  “What files?” asked Josh.

  “There were these cold cases a few years ago that got my attention. I’ll explain more later. What else, Alex?”

  “You can all probably guess what’s next. The woman’s gun was definitely in the warehouse and used to kill four of those people.”

  “So, given the wench’s history, Lucretia probably was there too,” said Sophie.

  “It be a good bet,” said Braxton.

  “Okay, let’s get to brass tacks, but I need to eat first.” Sophie got out of her chair.

  “Yeah, hard to concentrate on an empty stomach,” said Barb.

  Manny stepped away from the food cart and watched as his team filled their plates, Sophie leading the way.

  Fifteen minutes later, the eating frenzy involving spicy gumbo, cheesy au gratin potatoes, creole salad, and chocolate crème brûlée about over, Josh leaned back in his chair. “That hit the spot. Now I need some sleep.”

  “Heard that,” said Sophie, finishing off her second dessert.

  Josh turned to Manny. “What about those files?”

  “The ones I gave Alex?”

  “Yeah, those. Let me guess, recreational reading?”

  He smiled. “I was researching some cold cases, hoping to get some more insight into Argyle a few years ago, and ran into a profile of five unsolved murders. Long story short, after getting Alex involved with the science, and comparing our current evidence with those cases, I believed that same killer could be our person in the warehouse. Especially regarding the marksmanship.”

  “Seems you were right,” said Barb.

  “It proves that the patterns in these type of killers are consistent. I only threw out the possibility. Alex’s evidence comparison proved it,” said Manny.

  “Either way, it was good work. But we need to go to the next step,” said Josh.

  Manny’s thoughts were already racing ahead to what was next on the agenda. Alex beat him to the punch, however.

  “We’re searching for any known associates to Doucett, but it seems she was a loner of sorts. No real family, she worked in the real estate business until three years ago, then pretty much nothing. At least so far.”

  “You mean she had no job?” asked Sophie, still nibbling at her plate.

  “None that paid taxes at least,” said Alex.

  “So whoever she hooked up with took care of her, or she had a cash business,” said Chloe.

  “I’d bank on a partnership or relationship or something. Hey, she wasn’t alone in that warehouse; that’s obvious,” Belle said.

  “True. But she did have skills. Maybe Anna can find something on the Darknet that will help,” said Manny.

  “Yeah, the playground of creeps. Damn. It still boggles my mind that people can advertise their little specialties, like murder for hire, and not get caught,” said Sophie.

  “And you wonder why I’m not in love with that kind of technology. I do like the tech he’s using now. He’s going to run Doucett’s image through our facial recognition software and see if we get a hit. There are millions of public and private security and traffic cameras out there. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” said Manny.

  Josh looked at his watch, then stood. “Okay, if there’s not anything else tonight, we’re all going to get some sleep and hit it hard very early in the morning. It’s been a hell of a day.”

  Manny raised his hand.

  “Damn it, Williams, really?” said Sophie.

  “I have two questions, then we can get some sleep.”

  “Workaholic,” said Alex, grinning.

  “I’ll make it quick. Any luck on identifying the dead woman in the warehouse?”

  “Nothing yet. We’re running her in the same facial recognition search as Doucett. It is odd, though, that there’s nothing on her in any of the FBI’s databases. No fingerprints or DNA, nothing.”

  Manny frowned. Nothing always meant something.

  “Did you try military and INTERPOL records? Maybe she wasn’t a criminal.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows. “No, not yet. Are you thinking she was undercover?”

  “Everyone has some record of their life. If you can’t find fingerprints or DNA, then maybe those files are hidden or deleted. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve run into that. Right, Braxton?” said Manny.

  “True. She might fit dat kinda hidden profile.”

  Alex tapped at his computer, then looked up. “Okay, since I didn’t get any hits in the normal search databases, I’ve sent hers and Doucett’s profiles to INTERPOL and the military’s central ID databases. If they’re there, we’ll know in a few hours.”

  “Okay, one more thing. The people who attacked us, that God’s Hand organization, when did they show up on the scene?”

  “The first time we heard of them was about five years ago. They joined a couple other radical religious groups to protest the honoring of American soldiers at their funerals,” said Josh.

  “Some were arrested, but the leader of the group wasn’t, choosing to stay away from the immediate area,” said Barb, yawning. “Sorry, Big Boy, I’m ready to drag Alex to our room and hit the sack too.”

  “I hear you. Humor me. What’s the leader’s name?” asked Manny.

  “It’s not really one person. It seems to be a council of three with fictitious identities and profiles. We dug into them, believe me, but there just isn’t much there. Besides, the CTD has pretty much signed them off as a threat to national security. They’re more like the group in Waco twenty years back.” Barb blinked, then shook her head. “Wow, I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. The fact they were involved in attacking you and Sophie should put them on the list. Sorry, Manny, I just didn’t push that angle. Alex?”

  “On it. We’ll have anything and everything on them when we get together in the morning. Well, except for you three; you’ll be on your way to New York.”

  Josh stood. “They will, and they’ll need some rest. Go to bed, everyone. And turn your cell phones, computers, and tablets off. You need sleep.”

  Sophie snorted. “Yeah, like that’ll happen.”

  “It works for me,” said Manny.

  “That’s an order,” said Josh.

  “Yes sir,” said Sophie. She then stood and saluted.

  Manny watched as Josh tried to stifle the tired smile. It didn’t work.

  “Smartass. I’m going to bed. See you all at six a.m., right here. Barb, Belle, and Chloe, the jet leaves for the Big Apple at seven sharp.”

  Josh walked out of the room, and the rest followed, Manny and Chloe at the back of the pack.

  They walked slowly down the hall toward the elevator, holding hands.

  Five minutes later, they were in their room. Manny plugged in both of their phones, turned off the light, and climbed into bed next to Chloe.

  The smooth feel of the cool sheets seemed heaven sent. Almost as much as lying close to his wife. Something he’d grown more and
more fond of over the last few weeks.

  There had been too many nights alone in hotel rooms over the years and that wasn’t a good ingredient for most marriages.

  A moment later, he pulled her even closer, feeling her heartbeat and the heat of her body.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with going to New York?” he asked.

  “No. But I’ll go for all of the reasons Josh said.”

  “Good. The timing is nuts though—”

  Manny kissed Chloe and began to drift off to sleep. That idea was short lived. He suddenly sat up. “Damn it.”

  “What? What’s going on?” asked Chloe, sleep in her voice.

  He looked in her direction, the ambient light showing concern on her face. He shook his head.

  “The timing for these murders isn’t a coincidence.”

  Chloe groaned, then sat up beside him. “Come on, Manny, really? You think those six murders in New York aren’t just a coincidence? That they are another distraction?”

  “Think about it. Why now? Why today? The BAU hasn’t had a case like this in weeks, and now three of you are leaving tomorrow to work this one.”

  “To what end is this a real problem? Even if there is some conspiracy, which is farfetched for even you to consider, what is the point, ya know? Separating us isn’t going to stop our investigation in either place. We’ve already talked about that.”

  He sighed. She was right. What would be the point?

  She kissed him on the cheek and lay back down. “I believe you’re overthinking this. Put your brain to rest and go to sleep. You’re wrong this time. It’s nothing.”

  “You’re probably right. I need some sleep.”

  Manny fell back and immediately felt Chloe’s breast on his chest as she crawled close. She always felt good, even as tired as he was.

  “I could take your mind of that stuff, for a while, don’t ya know. Besides that, ya can’t spend a night in New Orleans and not get laid.” Then her hand moved lower. “Oh, is that a yes?”

  “You’re very persuasive. But I’m beat. Just wake me when you’re done.”

  She moved on top of him, her hips resting on his. “I’ll wake ya, man. I’ll wake ya just fine.”

  Thirty minutes later, Chloe had fallen fast asleep, her mission accomplished. He’d been more than distracted with their lovemaking, yet it went past the physical. Even more so after Ian had been born. She’d always been intentional with the way they spent their intimate time together. Yet, after giving life to their son, the idea of making love had a much more pointed message—for both of them.

  Manny rolled over and tried to forget New York, New Orleans, and even Sophie’s battle with losing Dean. It took a few moments, but he was eventually able to follow Chloe’s advice and relax. She was probably right anyway. He had been far from right a few times in his career. No one got it all of the time.

  Turning on his other side, his hand on Chloe’s hip, he closed his eyes. Despite the return of that persistent uneasy feeling that there was something more going on in New York, sleep found him quickly.

  ***

  Manny’s eyes popped open, the darkness still cloaking the room. It took a moment for him to realize his phone was buzzing. He hadn’t turned off the vibration mode, only the volume button. Getting up, he stepped to the desk and picked up the phone. It stopped vibrating as he hit the answer button.

  He refocused his eyes, looking at the number more clearly. The number wasn’t familiar, but the 303 area code got his attention. His eyes darted to the time: 1:34 local meant it was 12:34 in Colorado.

  Anna.

  Before he could hit the redial, the phone began vibrating again.

  “Anna?”

  “Hey, Manny. Yep. It’s me. Wow, you sound tired. Sorry about the calls, but I didn’t think this could wait.”

  Her voice sounded alive, full of energy, unlike how he felt, yet it was good to hear that coming from her. She had something.

  “What couldn’t wait?”

  “Well,” she began excitedly, “I dug through some subdirectories and then ran a search on deleted URLs and other files. As long as they hadn’t been replaced or zeroed out with a low-level file deletion program, something I fixed anyway because I wrote a quick recovery program—”

  “Anna. Stop. This stuff isn’t my cup of tea when I’m awake, and right now, I’m half asleep. Tell me what you have.”

  By now, Chloe was awake. She had turned on the lamp and was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Anna,” he mouthed.

  Anna said, “Okay. I found an email that you want to read, then, waiting for the phone to charge, I got another one you really need to see. I’m sending them to you and Alex right now. It’ll show up on your phone and his computer.”

  Manny was now fully awake.

  “What does that mean, Anna?”

  “I’m not totally sure about the first one. It looks like Daryl Brooks may have been undercover or something.”

  His mind played with that possibility, but sensed the second message was of more substance. “And?”

  Anna inhaled a deep breath. “I think your terrorist is going to do something on a cruise ship.”

  CHAPTER-37

  “Keep the coffee coming,” said Josh. “I feel like a wrung-out dishrag.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll get two more pots,” said the white-clad waiter.

  “And croissants or doughnuts or whatever you have. I’m gonna need to eat again after having my beauty sleep disturbed,” said Sophie.

  “I will see what we have,” then he hustled out the door.

  Manny leaned on the table, taking another long draw from his cup. Caffeine at two thirty in the morning didn’t change the fact that it was still two-thirty in the morning with three hours sleep. But he and this group had been here before; they would suck it up and do what was necessary, as always.

  Josh rose, made one last attempt to wipe the sleep from his eyes, then placed both hands on the table.

  “You’ve all seen the messages that Anna sent. She’s going to continue to dig, but we’ve got to go with what we have for now. Thoughts?”

  Every head in the room turned in Manny’s direction, except Alex, who was concentrating, to the point of oblivion, on his laptop.

  “I guess you’re first,” said Belle.

  “I guess,” said Manny. “Fair enough. I’ve got to put this in some sort of order. It seems obvious Daryl Brooks was working with or for that person, but the questions coming from that situation total about a million in my mind.”

  “Yeah, like for starters, after finding out who this FB is, what organization are they working for, and what was he or she and Brooks doing with that scumbag Wanger in the warehouse?” asked Sophie.

  “That’s a good start. I asked Anna to trace where that email came from, and she’s trying, but she keeps getting hit with proxy sites bouncing all over the world every three or four seconds. She says it could take hours to days. She tried the same thing on the second email, but ran into the identical problem, only worse,” said Manny.

  “How about we talk to the directors of DEA, the Bureau, Homeland Security, CIA, INTERPOL, or whomever and see if they have knowledge of Wanger’s people killed in the warehouse and this case?” asked Barb. “These folks know things, trust me.”

  “Already ahead of you on that one,” said Josh. “I woke up some important people this morning. So far no one has anything for us. But I’m still waiting on the CTD director. He didn’t answer his phone.”

  “I think we’re doing what we can to find out what’s going on with FB and Brooks. We need to move on to more pressing matters,” said Manny, picking up his phone. “Anna thinks this reference could be a cruise-ship attack. I didn’t think of that when I first read the message. When I saw ‘we sail in two days,’ I thought of something more private, like a yacht leaving a marina.”

  “Why that?” asked Chloe.

  “I’m not sure. Just a first imp
ression. God knows there’s about a million chances to sail from New Orleans on any given day. I asked Anna why she thought it was cruise related. She told me that Carousel’s Ocean King sails out of the New Orleans port tomorrow. It comes in about noon and then leaves about six. That made sense to me, after waking up more. I realized that if I were trying to make a spectacular statement to America in general, the cruise ship would be a better target than a smaller vessel. That must be what FB and Brooks, and their organization, think too. Who or whatever that is.”

  “Getting in touch with your inner terrorist?” asked Sophie.

  “Something like that. Remember how we’ve talked about that. We have to try to think like them in every way. Anna helps with that.”

  “Do ya tink dat is what dese people have in mind? A cruise ship?” asked Braxton.

  “Good question,” said Manny, passing his hand through his hair. “I have to go with the theory that if it walks and talks like a duck, it probably is.”

  Manny had run that possible scenario over and over in his mind. Security was good at the ports, and the passengers and staff well screened, but he also knew where there was a will, things happened. He just didn’t know for sure how someone could pull off an attack.

  Hell, at this point, he was as unsure of an investigation as he’d ever been.

  Gavin Crosby had told him years ago, when in that situation, to talk it out in front of as many people as possible. The adage of strength in numbers rang true.

  “Having said what I said, let me go deeper and think out loud here, okay? There are things that don’t make real sense to me.”

  “Damn. Williams is a little confused? I’m posting that on all of my social media accounts,” said Sophie, grinning.

  “Great. Can’t wait to see it. Anyway, here goes. The message was clear that Brooks was to be ready to sail. But why him? Why did he get that message?