by Robin Caroll
“Well, good.” Eva slurped her coffee. “I wondered why you were all smiley and cheery at four in the morning.”
Thunder roared outside, trembling the walls inside the crime unit. The storm had blown in around eleven, just as forecasted. It hadn’t let up all morning. The drive in had not only been dark, but gloomy as well.
She had woken up in a great mood, despite the few hours of sleep she’d had. “Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?” she sang softly.
“Please don’t.” Eva shook her head. “I can’t handle Elvis this early in the morning.”
“Tell me, dear, are you lonesome tonight?” she sang a bit louder.
“Stop!” Eva covered her ears and groaned. “Hey, all kidding aside, did you get any more threatening phone calls?”
Maddie took a sip of her own coffee. “There were ten missed calls, so I just didn’t turn the phone on. I figured if anyone needed me, they’d call my cell. I’ll call the phone company tomorrow and get my number changed.”
“You seem awfully blasé about it.”
She shrugged. “What can I do? I utilize my security system, live in a gated community, and I sleep with my gun on my bedside table. There’s not much more I can do.” She smiled. “Except maybe get a dog.”
“Get a dog? What kind of nonsense is that? Why would you want a dog?”
Maddie laughed. “I don’t, really.”
“Then why bring it up? Have you lost your mind? A dog? Why in tarnation would you even think about that?”
Maddie couldn’t help herself—she laughed harder. “My soon-to-be sister-in-law has a really cool dog.” She snorted.
Eva narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you find so amusing. Dogs. You have to feed them, walk them, clean up after them.”
Swallowing the laughter, Maddie ducked her head. It’d been some time since she was in such a good mood so early in the morning on a day she’d missed church, when she had less sleep than she required and had outside stress smacking her from all sides. Taking all that into consideration, she’d come to the conclusion that Nick Hagar could be quite good for her mental health.
When he’d leaned in to her last night and planted that feathery kiss on her cheek—mercy, her knees almost went weak. The man smelled almost as good as he looked.
“So, are you seeing Nick again?”
Maddie couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across her face again. “He’s going to call me later this morning.”
“Told you so. I do love being right.” Eva stood and stretched, then checked the clock on the wall. “It’s about that time. Run’s almost complete.”
Maddie opened the software program on her computer. “Hey, will you turn on the radio? I want to hear the news.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Just the news, then you can turn it off.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“Or we could listen to the Elvis station. A little less conversation, a little more action please.”
“Oh, please stop.”
“All this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me.”
“Okay, I’ll turn on the news. Just please, stop singing Elvis songs. You’re gonna make me hurl my coffee at you.” Eva moved toward the radio in the office. “And you know how much I hate to waste good coffee.”
Maddie giggled as Eva flipped on the radio, then set it to the local all-news station before heading into the lab area to wait for the run to complete. The station’s commercial ended and the newscaster returned on air.
“Is this the work of a serial killer? Should our young women be warned?” Mary Peters, area investigative reporter, asked over the airwaves.
“Young women should always be vigilant, Mary.” Senator Ford’s voice sounded as it usually did. “I haven’t been told this is the work of a serial killer. All I can say for certain is my daughter was murdered—stabbed three times in the chest. If those wounds are similar to Hailey Carter’s, I can’t say. I’m not in law enforcement nor am I a medical examiner.”
“What are the police saying?”
“I haven’t spoken with the local police. I’ve dealt only with the FBI. Special Agent in Charge Nicholas Hagar.”
Oh no. Maddie cringed, imagining how Nick would hit the roof if he hadn’t already.
“I’ve been told forensic evidence is being processed—fingerprints, DNA . . . stuff like that. My staff inquiries reveal results should be forthcoming this week.”
Nick was really going to have a cow. So would Peter.
“They have concluded their evidence gathering at my daughter’s home already, as well as her car, which is where her body was found.” A heavy pause. “I’m sure everyone can understand that passing bills for harsher sentences for those who commit violent crimes is my primary focus during this most difficult time.”
Was this man really using his daughter’s death as a political move?
Eva handed Maddie a large stack of papers, each containing data she would review to determine the DNA profiles from all samples taken at the crime scene. “Can we turn off the radio now?”
“Yeah.” She grabbed the papers and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Eva would independently run the same. They would then perform a statistical analysis using their special computer program to determine how frequently these specific DNA profiles appear in the human population. Finally, they would each generate a report that effectively summarized all of the scientific findings of the case.
Eva flipped off the radio, then sat at her station. They worked in silence, full concentration on their work for two and a half hours before Maddie stood. “About to generate my report. How about you?”
“Give me ten more minutes.”
Maddie stretched. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Want me to bring you back a fresh cup of coffee?”
“Please!”
She left the lab, walking down the dim hallway. The unit was eerily silent, save the storm rumbling outside.
“Maddie.”
She turned back to the door to the lab. Eva’s head stuck out. “Hurry up. Peter just called. The director’s on his way to talk with us. The whole team’s been assembled.”
The director? Something serious must be coming down the pike because the director had only made an appearance in the lab a handful of times in the ten years Maddie had worked for TBI. And on a Sunday . . . before eight?
Dear Lord, please don’t let there have been another murder.
He could strangle the senator.
Nick had spent the better part of last night on the phone with the bureau’s public relations officer and the senator’s staff. No matter what he or the state’s district attorney said, the man seemed bound and determined to continue spouting off at the mouth regarding his daughter’s murder. And he didn’t seem to care that it could jeopardize the case.
Matter-of-fact, he seemed more determined to go even further public once the bureau had requested he stop. What kind of father did that?
A political one.
Nick had heard Ford’s multiple interviews and replays of them. They were getting more airtime in one six-hour segment than Hailey Carter’s murder had entirely.
“Hey, Boss.” Timmons hovered in the doorway to Nick’s office.
“What are you doing here, Darren? It’s your day off.”
“I know. I’m out picking up Krispy Kreme donuts for Savannah and her sitter, Kimi, per Madam Savannah’s instructions, but forgot to put this report on your desk and figured you might want to see it today.” He handed Nick a folder.
Nick opened it and glanced at the name on the top sheet. “Leo Ward.”
“Basically, he’s clean. Several issues with authority, but he’s never been charged with so much as a speeding tick
et. Almost too clean.”
Those usually indicated they either had someone doing their dirty work for them, or they had someone who cleaned up after them. “I think I might pay Mr. Ward a visit later this afternoon.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re spending time with your daughter. I can handle Ward by myself.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I’d really like to come with you.” Timmons had been busting at the seams to prove himself since Rafe left. Rafe Baxter had voluntarily moved to the Arkansas location and thereby postponed any possible promotion so Timmons could stay in Memphis where his daughter’s doctors were.
“Okay. Meet me here at four. Maybe we can hit Ward when he’s having dinner.”
“Thanks.” Timmons ducked out of the office.
His cell phone buzzed. “Hagar.”
“Where are you?” The FBI’s head PR officer growled in Nick’s ear.
“At my desk, of course. Where else would I be?”
“That might not be the best place for you. Did you hear the latest? Senator Ford’s set to appear on the morning show in less than fifteen. Channel three.”
“He’ll probably just repeat everything he said at ten. And eleven.” But Nick reached for his remote anyway. He flipped the television to channel three, then muted it.
“According to my source at the television station, he’s going to announce that his daughter was not murdered by the same person who murdered Hailey Carter.”
Nick dropped his pen to the desk. “How does he know that?”
“We don’t know, Hagar. Is it true? Can we demand the station hold it as it’s false information?”
“No.”
“Then how in all that’s holy does he know?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
“You’d better hurry or the public’s gonna be knocking on your door. In case you missed it, he’s naming you as his contact person. Naturally, everyone is going to assume you’re the one who is giving him information on the case.”
“I know.”
“I’ll do what I can to defuse him. I have a couple of personal security people lined up to be interviewed to discuss common safety protocols.”
“That won’t distract what Ford tells the general public.”
“No, and my source informs me that he’s already called the mayor this morning.”
As if Nick’s day wasn’t bad enough already?
“Oh, and one more thing?”
“Yeah?”
“There are media vans outside the office already. Being held outside the fence, of course, but you know how the vultures are.”
Nick expelled a breath. “Great.”
“I’ll call you when I learn anything else. Until then, turn your television on. He’s about to go live.”
“I’m watching it.” Nick shut his cell and unmuted the television. He leaned forward, focusing as the camera pulled in close on Senator Ford’s ebony face.
“While my wife and I are deeply grieving the violent loss of our beloved daughter, we are relieved that forensics reveal there isn’t a serial killer in our midst.”
“All of us here at the station are deeply sorry for your loss, Senator.” The female interviewer managed to work an angle where she looked as if she might cry.
“Thank you. I can’t even begin to describe the enormous pain my wife and I have had to endure over the past twenty-four hours.”
“I’m sure.”
“But as I said, the entire university campus is breathing easier now that it’s confirmed there isn’t a serial killer on the loose, preying on our young college ladies.”
“What evidence is that, Senator?”
“It’s been proven that my daughter was not killed by the same man who took poor Hailey Carter’s life.”
“How is that, exactly?”
“Forensics, of course. The stab wounds weren’t the cause of death in the case of my dear Gina.”
Nick balled his hands into fists.
“They weren’t?”
“No, Gina’s cause of death was a broken neck.”
Nick leapt to his feet. There was no way he could know that. Someone had to have leaked the information to him, but who?
“We were told she’d been stabbed.” The interviewer looked confused.
“She was stabbed. Three times, just like Hailey.”
“But if her neck was broken?”
Senator Ford stared directly into the camera. “Someone killed my daughter, then stabbed her as he’d heard reported on the news about Ms. Carter, we can only assume to make the police think it was the same murderer.”
Nick paced, stomping his feet harder and harder with each pass on the worn carpet. His eyes never left the television monitor.
“Rest assured, Nick Hagar at the FBI is working with the forensic lab at the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, and they are processing the forensic evidence as we speak. They will find the person who did this. I’ve been assured by the district attorney that they will bring this person to justice and will seek the harshest sentence possible.”
“The death penalty?” The interviewer interrupted Ford’s tirade.
He stared at her, then looked directly back into the camera. It panned closer, just so you could see Ford’s eyes, nose, and mouth. “I won’t rest until I see this monster sentenced to death. I’m also sponsoring a bill to decrease the time inmates are on death row. Why should citizens’ tax dollars be spent providing necessities to those criminals who have robbed upstanding citizens of their loved ones?” He slammed his fist on the counter. “They shouldn’t.”
The camera focused on the interviewer. “There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a father in the throes of grief, but a senator determined to take the tough stands for his constituents.”
Nick flipped off the television, then tossed the remote onto his desk. His day had barely started and already had gone from bad to worse.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t think I’m bad for people.
If I did think I was bad for people, I would go back
to driving a truck, and I really mean this.”
Elvis Presley
“Here he is.” Peter straightened as the director waltzed into the lab. Peter hadn’t had three seconds to warn Maddie, Eva, Ivan, Kurt, and Neal what bee had climbed in the director’s bonnet this early on a Sunday morning. For him to come out in the raging storm and bring in the entire team, it had to be of the utmost importance. And since money was always an issue . . .
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The director shucked off his coat and passed it to his assistant who looked an awful lot like the fictionalized Oliver Twist. “I appreciate you all coming in so quickly.” He stood a little under six feet but was stocky. Portly, even. “We have a situation both the mayor and the governor have so generously brought to my immediate attention.”
Kurt and Neal shifted from their seats on the edge of Maddie’s desk, the only place left to sit. Maddie and Eva sat at their desks while Ivan and Peter perched on the edge of Eva’s desk which was closest to the door. The rest of the building sat as silent as a tomb.
“It seems someone has released confidential information regarding a crime scene to an unauthorized person.” The director’s thinning gray hair sparkled under the stark fluorescent overhead lights.
The senator, of course. Maddie swallowed.
“I’m not accusing anyone here, of course, but I’m reiterating policy that you are not at liberty to discuss any evidence on any case except to properly authorized persons.”
“Sir, most of us have heard about Senator Ford’s public statements from last night and this morning.” Peter stood, addressing his boss. “I can assure you, none of my team has spoken with the senator, even
in passing.”
The director flashed a condescending smile—er, expression. “Mr. Helm, I appreciate you standing up for your team, but it is unnecessary at this point. What I am stressing is the reminder for everyone affiliated with the case to remember not to speak to unauthorized persons.”
Peter slumped back to the edge of Eva’s desk.
The director ran his gaze over the team before continuing. “It’s been released that forensic evidence has proven the two girls’ murders are not related. Since we hold the forensic evidence, it is implied the information was released from this office.” He held up his hands as Ivan groaned and Peter stood again. “I’d like to know where we stand on the forensic testing. Perhaps that will enable me to find where confidential information has seeped past our safeguards.”
“We were able to secure a clean, complete fingerprint from the car door at the crime scene. We ran it through AFIS. No match was found. We turned it over to the FBI agent overseeing the case, Agent Nick Hagar, and he was to run it through the bureau’s IAFIS.”
“Did he get a match?” the director asked.
Ivan shrugged. “He doesn’t report back to us, sir.”
“Hagar, you say?”
He was going to blame the leak on Nick? Maddie shot to her feet. “Agent Hagar wouldn’t release information. He was furious the senator was addressing the public. He fought to have the senator’s press officer get in contact with Peter for approved statements.”
The director glanced at Peter.
Nodding, Peter stood again. “He did, sir. We’ve stressed to the senator’s press team how vital it is to keep details of the investigation out of the public, but the senator is adamant about using the media.”
“You should have stressed it more strenuously.” The director turned back to Maddie, who hadn’t yet sat back down. “Madeline Baxter, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“So this FBI agent was furious?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Interesting.” He ran a finger over his bottom lip. “Where are you and Ms. Langston in the process of DNA analysis?”