When Shadows Fall

by J. T. Ellison

  “She’s lost more than that, if those girls really are dead. I can’t believe she’d play games with their lives.”

  Baldwin gave her a shrewd look. “Lesson one. Not everything in the FBI is what it seems.”

  They headed down the winding drive, back onto the main road toward the highway, both lost in their own thoughts.

  “You didn’t tell me about Frederick McDonald. That he was killed,” Sam said finally.

  “Sorry. June Davidson called early this morning. McDonald tripped his silent alarm last night, which called the police to his house, but it was too late when they arrived. He was dead, and there was a trail of blood out of his basement into the woods. A shotgun by his side had been discharged, so we believe he took a shot at someone, and hit him, before he was taken down. Lab down there’s pulling samples and sending them to us.”

  He pulled the car onto Interstate 66 and headed east.

  “This doesn’t feel like a serial killer on a spree, does it? Someone is cleaning house. First Doug is killed, which he knew was coming, then everyone who was involved with him in this scheme, peripherally or otherwise, gets taken out,” Sam said.

  “You’re probably right. The question is, who’s running the show?”

  “Curtis Lott?”

  He nodded. “Until we locate the cult, and find Adrian Zamyatin, we’re at a loss there, too. We need to be able to take Curtis Lott into custody and talk to her, find out the true story. See if the girls are still alive. If this is a massive supply chain of babies into a black market, we’re going to be arresting a lot of people.”

  “Supply chain.” Sam tapped her fingers on the dashboard. “Anne Carter said Frederick McDonald was in charge of the drug running for the Dixie Mafia. If he knew how to move product from importer to distributor, he might know how to move something more esoteric. Like babies.”

  “It’s very possible.”

  “Someone will be given immunity to rat out everyone working on this. Baldwin, you can’t let them do that. Everyone involved is culpable here. They all need to be punished.”

  “I know, Sam. I know. But our witnesses are being knocked off before we can get to them.”

  Sam was quiet for a moment. “Do you think Adrian is going to go after Anne Carter? Or will he be coming for us instead, thinking we’re keeping Kaylie from him?”

  He rubbed his hand through his hair, spiking it up, and looked downright miserable. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Chapter

  53

  Washington, D.C.

  THERE WERE MEDIA vans lurking around FBI headquarters. Fletcher wondered what the press knew about Kaylie Rousch and Doug Matcliff, but didn’t let it get in the way. Lisa Schumann had a scoop, and the rest of the D.C. media machine was churning, as well.

  Thankfully they all hadn’t been peeping in his windows last night. A female FBI agent spending the night at a D.C. homicide cop’s place? All sorts of misunderstandings might ensue. Then again, this was D.C. What was shocking and inappropriate in some places was de rigueur for this town.

  Jordan drove under the building, parked and got Fletcher checked in and into the elevator, but she was clearly lost in thought. When they hit her floor, she crooked a finger and said, “Come on. I have an idea.”

  “About what?”

  “How to find Eden. And, hopefully, Kaylie Rousch.”

  She pulled him into her office, closed the door. “It was in the SIGINT from Matcliff. Something about beginnings and endings circling back.”

  “All right. What does that mean to you?”

  “I’m not sure. But there was something else. Remember he used the word Geddon several times?”

  “Yeah. So what’s Geddon?”

  “That’s what I want to find out. Maybe it’s a person, not a word.”

  She put a red thumb drive into the slot on her computer and booted it up. “We have two networks. One’s public. That’s the green side. One’s secure, totally private, for classified information, interagency stuff. That’s the red side. We’re going in the red side, so don’t try to check your Facebook, okay?”

  “Ha-ha. You’re going to see if there’s a mention of Geddon in the files?”

  “You’re a smart cookie, Fletch. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  She pulled up a database and typed the name into her search field. The computer cooked for a second, then started spitting out a list of files. Jordan leaned in closer to the screen, touched the tip of her finger to the list.

  “Oh, wow. Bingo,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Geddon is a holding company owned by...come on, you guess.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Oh, Fletch. You’re no fun. Arthur Scarron’s family trust.”

  “Ah. So what does it do?”

  “Manages all the properties the Scarron family owns.”

  So that’s why Scarron was named in Matcliff’s will. “Okay, now let me guess. The property holdings match the places where girls went missing?”

  “Exactamundo. And there’s a nice little parcel of land out in Great Falls. Matches the latitude and longitude of the mark on the map Kaylie Rousch left for us.”

  Thurber knocked on her door and came in, looking exhausted. “You eat? Someone left some pizza in the conference room.”

  “I never say no to cold pizza. First, though, I’ve got something. And don’t get pissed, but I filled Fletcher in on the other girls. He couldn’t operate without that knowledge. I made a judgment call.”

  Rob narrowed his eyes at her. “We’ll discuss that later. Show me what you have.”

  She laid it all out for him. “It’s early, but this is it. I can feel it. Matcliff did tell us the truth, after all. Everything matches, including the site in Great Falls. Rachel Stevens must be out there. And the rest of Eden, too.”

  Thurber made her show him each step, then nodded and cracked what would be called a smile if he had the energy to make it meet his eyes.

  “Hell of a catch, Jordan. I’ll take it to the brass, see if we can’t add this to the warrant. It might speed things up. When we saw Kaylie Rousch’s tip, we went ahead and mapped the property. It’s a good fit for the type of land Eden liked to settle. Unplugged and out of the way.”

  “That’s good. When do we go in?” Fletcher asked.

  “Soon as the paperwork’s ready. Everyone is gearing up. We reconvene in thirty. Good work, Jordan. You too, Detective. Go get some coffee, or that leftover pizza, clear your brains.”

  “Will do.”

  Thurber left and Jordan gave Fletcher a dazzling smile. “That went better than I expected. We’ve got her. I know Rachel’s out there. We’re going to find her, and she’s going to be okay. I can just feel it. Let’s go take a look at the maps in the conference room. I’m sure there’s something there with specifics so we can start thinking about where on the property they might be holding her.”

  They walked down to the empty conference room and started combing the maps staked to the corkboards.

  The FBI had been busy since Fletcher had left the night before. Thurber hadn’t been kidding when he said they were moving on the Rousch girl’s tip.

  Some of the maps he could interpret himself. Others had shapes he didn’t recognize.

  Jordan was standing in front of a green-tinged aerial shot with small gray markings on it. “Oh, look at this. They are patrolling the borders of the land.” She used a white grease pencil to sketch out a perimeter for his eyes to follow.

  His mind made sense of things. “The gray blobs are people?”

  “Yep.”

  Fletcher cracked open a Diet Coke and handed it to Jordan. She set down the pencil, took the chilly can absently with her left hand. She grabbed a slice of cold pepperoni pizza with her right.r />
  “See this, right here?” She used the can to point to a spot on the map. Her mouth was full, the words a bit garbled, but he got the gist.

  She swallowed. “I think this is our entry point. The satellite imagery shows no guards in this area for the past several hours. We have a shot if we move quickly. We can come in overland, through the woods, get a surrender and retrieve the girl.”

  “You mean you and I can slip in the back while the rest are engaged up front?”

  “That’s right.” She took a sip of soda. “We’ll be able to go straight to the house through the field. They’re not going to be watching the back when all the attention is on their front gate.”

  “Don’t underestimate Curtis Lott. I think this woman will have that house guarded six ways to Sunday. I can’t imagine we’re going to have a shot at getting close without taking a few of her people out.”

  “We’ll coordinate with our hostage rescue team. HRT will throw some flash bangs in there, gas them, knock them out. Then we’ll be safe to take Rachel.”

  “What about the rest of the cult?”

  “They’re down and get arrested. After we get the girl, the rest isn’t my problem.”

  She set the can down and turned toward him. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re crazy. But I like it. Here.”

  She had a crumb on her lip. He brushed it off with the pad of his thumb. She didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on his, and he realized he had the most insane urge to kiss her.

  She knew it, too. She smiled when he furrowed his brow and dropped his gaze.

  “I won’t hit you if you kiss me, you know.”

  His head shot up. “What?”

  “You heard me,” she said, then leaned in and touched his lips with hers.

  A shock of desire flooded his body, and without thinking he gathered her in his arms and deepened the kiss. She fit against him well, and her arms immediately snaked around his neck so they were pressed together, every exquisite inch from knees to lips. She was strong and soft and smelled like lilacs.

  One of her hands dropped to his hip and he realized he was getting dizzy. They shouldn’t be doing this. Someone might walk in.

  Don’t think, Fletch. Just go with it.

  Her back was long and smooth and he ached to feel her skin. Carefully, he pulled her shirt out of her pants so he could run his knuckles along her rib cage. She sighed and relaxed into him, accepting, allowing, and he had to stop himself from bending her backward over the conference table, stripping off her pants and forgetting everything for a while.

  Breath coming in short gasps, he said, “No chance you locked that door, did you?”

  She laughed quietly. Her hands went to the front of his shirt. She laid her palms on his flat stomach. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  He kissed her again, ran his hands down her back and around to the front. “Why the hell do you wear pants all the time?”

  “Because I wanted to see how long it would take for you to try to get into them.”

  That was it. He was lost. “I think I have a crush on you, Special Agent Jordan Blake.”

  They heard noises in the hall and broke apart, giggling like schoolkids.

  He’d pulled her hair out of its ponytail holder. It was mussed around her face, and her cheeks were flushed. Very fetching. He watched her search for the small rubber band, and it was all he could do not to walk over to her, unbutton her shirt and take things further.

  “You are thinking dirty thoughts,” she said, smiling. She looked down, around her feet. “Where the hell is that thing?”

  He also glanced down, trying to remember. He’d pulled it out of her hair and tossed it...to the right. He followed the remembered trajectory and spotted it on an empty chair. He handed it to her sheepishly and she kissed him again, quick and hard.

  “That was fun. We should do it again sometime,” she said.

  “I have the next five minutes free.”

  She laughed, a throaty sound that got him going all over again, but they heard voices, coming closer this time, and quick, heavy footsteps. Jordan was suddenly in motion, tucking and straightening. By the time Thurber walked in, they were calmly eating cold pizza and sipping on their flat Diet Cokes, and Jordan was pointing at the map again.

  God, he was in so far over his head.

  Thurber tossed a sheet of paper at them. “We got the warrant. HRT is already suited up. They’ll meet us out there. We need to stake out the land. We roll in fifteen. Be ready. You hit the spot?”

  Fletcher looked down so Jordan wouldn’t catch his eye and start laughing and blow this whole thing.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it,” she said. “There’s a tunnel on the easement to the property we should be able to sneak through. They might have guards on the other side, but as of the last satellite pass, it was devoid of living beings. If they are there, we can take them out without a problem. Then it’s a clear shot into the farmhouse.”

  “Good. Suit up and get downstairs. Get Detective Fletcher a vest, too.”

  “Are you inviting me along?”

  Thurber’s face was like granite. “You worked this case, didn’t you? Yeah, you’re in. Now get your shit together and let’s roll. Brass is putting together the ROE right now.”

  He stalked out of the room.

  “ROE?” Fletcher asked.

  “Rules of engagement. How we approach, what the shooters are allow to do. Self-defense, shoot to kill, whatever they decree is what we all have to stick to.”

  “They’ll try negotiating first, right?”

  “Absolutely. Which is why you and I are going to get out there and find Rachel Stevens. You trained for SWAT by any chance?”

  “Yeah, but it’s been a few years.”

  “Our HRTs are built on a similar premise. They’re badasses. They deploy all over the world at a moment’s notice to save our citizens. They’re the best at what they do. We’ll follow their lead.”

  “We need to call Sam and Baldwin.”

  She had her phone out already. “On it.”

  She’d slipped back into straitlaced FBI agent mode. Not that he blamed her. But he was definitely interested to see where this might lead. He hadn’t been all that perturbed when Andi told him she was lighting out for New York and they could play things by ear. He realized if Jordan said the same thing, he’d be pretty pissed. Interesting.

  He listened to her talking to Baldwin and Sam, liked the sound of her voice when she got all bossy—a lot. Shook his head and grinned to himself.

  Fletcher, you are such an idiot.

  Chapter

  54

  Interstate 66

  Northern Virginia

  THEY WERE NEARING the exit south to Lynchburg when Baldwin’s cell rang.

  “It’s Jordan.” He put it on speaker. “What’s up?”

  “Kaylie Rousch’s map was right on the money, and Doug Matcliff left a bread crumb trail in his SIGINT no one bothered to follow. We looked at the property records in Great Falls. They’re in the name of a trust, run through a shell company. The forensic accountants are on it, tearing apart the details. So far, they’ve been able to tie several holdings in several states to this shell company. Want to guess where?”

  “Virginia, Texas, Colorado, Arkansas and Kentucky.”

  “You got it. All of which are held by...drumroll please...the Scarron Family Trust.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. What sort of warrant did you get?”

  “Broad scope. Covers everything. We aren’t taking any chances. Exigent circumstances, too, since we think Rachel Stevens might be there. They’re pulling together the ROE right now. We won’t get any pushback. In the meantime, we have some excellent satellite shots from early this morning. There are several people wandering ar
ound the area, looks like guards. Armed guards.”

  “This is all good news.”

  “Yep. There’s more. There’s a small outbuilding, and thermal imaging shows at least fifteen people there. The main house has a couple of people in it, too, and more bodies in other outbuildings.”

  “So we’re up to twenty, twenty-two? What are the guards armed with?”

  “Don’t know. But this isn’t exactly a normal setup for a parcel of undeveloped land.”

  “Any confirmation or sighting of Rachel Stevens?”

  “Negative. But we’ve got convergence on three levels, and I’ve got a gut feeling she’s in there, just waiting for us to bust in and save her. Do you want in? We’re rolling now.”

  “On my way. And, Jordan, you need to be mindful of the situation. This woman hasn’t hesitated to eliminate her followers before. We don’t want another Ruby Ridge.”

  “Trust me, none of us do.”

  Baldwin hung up and put his foot on the gas. “Now might be a good time to call Xander.”

  Sam already had her phone out. Xander didn’t answer. She left him a quick message. “FBI confirmed the land out in Great Falls is owned by a shell holding company. They’re pretty convinced this is the spot. Be careful. You’re about to have a mass convergence, including FBI HRT. Call me.”

  She hung up, fiddled with the phone. “Baldwin, what if this isn’t what we think it is?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something Kaylie’s mother said has been bothering me. That she was a compulsive liar. Anne Carter reacted to that information, too.”

  He glanced over at her. “Go on.”

  “Honestly, Maureen Rousch is a miserable excuse for a human being, but what did she have to gain by telling us this? She certainly wasn’t interested in currying favor. And Kaylie has shown herself to be less than honest.”

  “You think we’re running into a setup?”

  She chewed on a fingernail for a second, thinking. “Kaylie was abused, abandoned, raped. She spent the past decade on the run with a disgruntled ex-cult member who has an ax to grind against the FBI. She showed up at a very convenient moment, dumped a lot of fascinating information on us that we’d be sure to immediately follow up on, including claiming Rachel Stevens was her child. Then she attacked me, stole my clothes and money and disappeared. What if she’s not what she says? Or who she says?”