by Robin Mahle
“What’d you find?” Marshall entered and headed toward him. He felt his heart sink at the sight of the pictures of Kate. It was then that he realized he might have misjudged Shalot, now believing that the man might just be after her. “What the hell is this?”
Gibbons expression was veiled in regret at the unsettling discovery. “This guy might not have killed Lindsay Brown, but I think we have another problem.” Gibbons pointed to the file header. “This looks like it came from the university.”
Marshall began reading the contents of the file. “Christ, these are her school records. Schedule, grades, former addresses. We need to figure out how he got his hands on these files.”
“Look, man, you better let me talk to him. This may be the way keep him in custody a while longer until we get forensics back.”
That old feeling began to resurface. The unsettling one that suggested Kate was in danger once again. His head began to spin at the possibility that he could have missed something so obvious.
Gibbons must have picked up on his thoughts. He placed his hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go and have a look in the kitchen for anything else. I’ll gather these files and bring them out.”
Katie lingered in the conference room at the station along with Agent Scarborough and his team. The hour was nearing dawn and she began to wonder why Marshall and Detective Gibbons had not returned.
Scarborough was listening to his senior agent discuss the profile of the killer they were looking for. “Have you determined the significance of the dandelions?”
Agent Myers had worked for the FBI for more than eight years, only last year becoming one of the senior agents at Quantico. During that time, she had compiled many different profiles, but she had never come across something or someone of this nature. “I consulted with a few botanists and they have determined some significance to that particular flower. First of all, it is extremely hardy and can survive in any area. Some of the more symbolic meanings are that the flower or weed symbolizes faithfulness, fertility, and abundance.”
“So we are dealing with someone who believes in the nature of faithfulness and fertility.” Agent Scarborough turned to Katie, seemingly wanting her input.
Katie immediately thought of her recent loss, but pushed it away just as quickly. “And yet this person who believes in faithfulness is taking lives?”
“Maybe, but there’s also another meaning.” The agent typed on the laptop and pulled up a poem that flashed on the screen. “My contact pointed me to this poem about the flower. Take a look at the final two lines.”
And when I’m gone, please don’t show sorrow.
I’ll be back again tomorrow.
“‘I’ll be back again tomorrow,’” Agent Scarborough repeated. “This seems a little more relevant.”
The idea struck Katie hard. This was not about faithfulness or fertility. This was about the nature of the flower’s ability to come back. Over and over. Never to be eradicated. As she looked to Scarborough, it seemed he was thinking the same thing.
This, however, did not explain whether or not Shalot killed Lindsay Brown. “Agent Myers, do you believe the man we have in custody could have killed your victim in Colorado, then traveled here to take the life of Ms. Brown?” Katie asked.
The team had spent several hours at Ms. Brown’s home after reviewing the items Katie had already collected and entered into the database.
“Anything is possible, Ms. Reid; however, this does seem an unlikely scenario.” She looked to Nick. “Agent Scarborough, after interviewing the ME, what are your thoughts?”
“I don’t believe Shalot is our guy. Someone found out about the flower and the carving. Someone who had a connection to one of the previous cases and got the details. Lindsay Brown was different, though, so it was someone who didn’t know everything.”
“Unless Detectives Avery and Gibbons turn up something in Shalot’s apartment, I don’t see as we have much choice but to let him go. The killer’s still out there and we may now have a copycat out there as well.”
Scarborough noticed the time. “It’s late. We all could use some rest. Why don’t we stop for tonight and get in a few hours? We’ll plan on meeting back here at seven?”
Katie waited for the room to clear before approaching Nick. “They’re all wondering what the hell I’m doing here, Nick.”
“Look, you were on scene, collecting evidence. No one should question your involvement. At least not until this is officially declared an FBI matter. Your Captain Hearn doesn’t have a problem with you being here and neither should my team. Besides, no one else here has a personal relationship with Edward Shalot. That alone gives you the right to be here.”
“I wouldn’t call it a personal relationship.” Katie felt slightly embarrassed by the term. As if she had known the guy all her life.
“You know what I mean,” Scarborough continued. “You should go home. Get some rest.”
“I haven’t heard from Marshall, have you?” she asked.
At that moment, Gibbons and Marshall appeared in the doorway of the conference room.
“Did we miss out?” Gibbons asked.
“My guys needed some rest and I sent everyone back to the hotel. We’re meeting up again at seven. What did you find?” Scarborough asked.
Katie recognized the look on Marshall’s face. She’d seen it before. It was the same look he’d given her at the hotel back in Rio Dell. The look that meant she was about to be shut out because he was afraid for her.
Gibbons tossed the files onto the conference room table.
Katie’s mouth dropped at the sight of her name on several of the papers. “What the hell are these?” she asked, leaning in to get a better look.
“We found these in Shalot’s bedroom. We don’t have a clue as to how he got his hands on them.”
“These are my school records. Every class, every grade I’ve received. The professor’s notes. My God, everything is here. Why?”
“We need to charge him with something, fast,” Marshall began. “The warrant only allowed us to search his apartment in connection with the Lindsay Brown murder. We found nothing of hers at his place. Nothing that would suggest he was involved in her death. We’ve already got her computer and the computer lab is searching that and her phone records. So far, they haven’t turned anything up as it relates to Shalot. It appears as though he didn’t harass her, or send her messages other than relating to their dates.”
“And yet she filed a restraining order?” Scarborough said.
“Yes. According to the order, he had threatened her on their final date a few days ago,” Gibbons replied.
“Look, if I could just talk to him again; ask him why he had my records,” Katie began.
“Hell no,” Marshall said. “Are you kidding me? A woman he dated is dead and we find a bunch of files having to do with you in his apartment? No. Absolutely not.”
Katie reddened with embarrassment. She felt as though she’d just been scolded by her father. It seemed the others had taken notice as well. Scarborough quickly looked down at the files again, appearing to pretend he hadn’t heard the reprimand.
“If we can’t bring charges against Shalot, he’s going to be going home in a few hours,” Gibbons said. “I’ll talk to him. I think it’s a good idea if you three observe in the back room.” Gibbons turned to Marshall. “I don’t want you in there, understand?”
Marshall tossed a reluctant nod in his direction. He wasn’t happy about any of this.
One of the officers brought Shalot into the interrogation room. The man appeared exhausted as if he’d just been awakened, which he likely had, given that it was almost four in the morning. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled.
The officer began to shackle him to the hooks embedded in the concrete floor, but Gibbons waved him off. “We won’t be needing that, will we, Mr. Shalot?”
“No, sir,” Edward replied.
Gibbons sat down in the chair opposite and
nodded to the officer to take leave. He turned his attention back to Shalot. “We found some very interesting items back at your apartment, Mr. Shalot.”
Edward’s expression hardened. “How the hell…”
Gibbons didn’t bother letting him finish. “How did you come by the files of our Ms. Katie Reid? Why would you have possession of her school records, Mr. Shalot?”
“I thought I was here because of Lindsay Brown? You people think that I killed her, isn’t that right?”
“The FBI is here to determine that, Eddie. But right now, I’m very curious as to what your interest is in Ms. Reid. Care to enlighten me?”
“Look. I know my rights. I don’t have to say anything to you. Are you gonna charge me with something? ‘Cause if not, then I have a right to leave.”
Katie, Marshall, and Nick stood behind the desk in the observation room, staring at the monitors.
“I don’t like where this is going,” Marshall said.
“No, neither do I,” Scarborough replied.
Katie didn’t know exactly what they were suggesting, but she was getting the sense that the law was not on their side this time. It was a frightening revelation to hear that Edward had somehow obtained her school records, but she hadn’t a clue as to why. The man hardly said but a few words to her. What interest was she to him? More importantly, why was he becoming increasingly defensive at Gibbons’ questions?
The detective cast a subtle glance at the camera in the corner of the room, behind Shalot. It seemed he had honed in on Marshall’s and Nick’s concern. “You realize the prosecutor has forty-eight hours to bring charges and we can hold you for the duration. At last check,” Gibbons turned his wrist to check the time, “it’s hardly been twenty-four.”
“Look. You know I didn’t kill Lindsay. Why the hell would I have stuck around and called 911?” Edward leaned against the table. “I didn’t kill her, goddammit. So what? Now you think I’m gonna go after Katie Reid?”
“Why the hell did you have her school records in your goddam bedroom, Eddie?”
Edward closed his eyes. “I want a lawyer.”
And that was it. Gibbons’ could ask the man as many questions as he wanted without charges, but as soon as he uttered those words, the game was changed. Now, Shalot could get a court-appointed lawyer.
Gibbons began to rise. “That’s your right, Eddie.” He started to walk out of the room.
“It’s Edward!” Shalot rose up.
“Calm yourself there, Eddie. You’re starting to act like you got something to hide.” Gibbons opened the door, but before leaving, ensured he got in one last jab. “You picked the wrong girl to stalk, my friend.”
Edward turned his face upwards and looked into the camera. “Katie, if you’re listening, I swear to you, I didn’t kill Lindsay. Please, you have to believe me.”
He was quickly interrupted by the same officer who brought him in. “Come on. You’re done here.” The officer grabbed Shalot by the arm and twisted it behind his back.
“Please, just let me explain, Katie. Please talk to me.”
Katie watched as Edward was escorted out of the room. She turned to Marshall. “The only way we’re going to get any answers is if you let me talk to him. You know that as well as I do.”
Marshall shot a glance to Scarborough. He looked as though he was in agreement with her.
“You can’t protect me all the time, Marshall. You have to let me do my job.” Katie was pleading now. It was as if this past year hadn’t even happened. All of the gains she’d made in her career. All of the nights spent working through what had happened with Hendrickson. All of it seemed to have been erased by Shalot’s words.
“When do you expect the labs to come back?” Marshall asked Scarborough.
“We should know something later today, or this evening. We may not have everything, but I think we’ll have enough to know whether or not we can charge Shalot with anything. Relating to Brown anyway. This other issue, well, it’s opened up a whole new can of worms. The problem is, I still have a serial killer out there.”
“You’re convinced it isn’t Shalot?” Katie asked.
“Everything in my gut says he didn’t kill Brown. I’ve got three other victims miles from each other. Shalot couldn’t have killed all of them. For one thing, he was in class with you the night that my victim in Kentucky was killed. And as for the woman in Colorado, seems our Mr. Shalot was on a date with the now deceased Ms. Brown.”
Scarborough paused for a moment. “The more likely conclusion? Someone got wind of the details and decided to make it look like the Highway Hunter killed Lindsay Brown, maybe even going so far as to frame Shalot for it. We need to find out who. The only way may be for Katie to have a chat with our friend, Eddie. It’s gotta be someone he knows or who knows of him. Someone who knew he was dating Brown. Someone who has access to police records or knows who does. Avery, we don’t have much choice. I can’t have a copycat out there and, if we have an in, then we need to use it.”
Katie looked to Marshall once again. It seemed he would resign to the fact that she needed to do this.
“Okay. Let’s get her to talk to him again.”
10
THE LACK OF sleep from which Katie now suffered could have easily been blamed on the morning light that was forcing its way beneath the drawn shades of their bedroom window. Instead, it was the idea that burrowed its way into her mind. The idea that Edward Shalot was at best a stalker and, at worst, a killer and she had had no idea.
Any sense of privacy Katie might have had prior to Hendrickson had all but vanished as a result of the high-profile case. She’d become a reluctant celebrity and with her newfound status came the admiration of people whom she’d never met. Even now, more than a year later, some people still recognized her and stopped her on the street; coming out of a store or a post office, it didn’t matter. Men and women alike approached her, took hold of her arm or her shoulder, telling her how brave she was, that she was a hero. Katie never felt like a hero.
For all the accolades and admirers, there were those who took it a step too far. After she’d returned home from Rio Dell, after Hendrickson’s death, she had received letters at the station, sometimes emails, if the people got hold of her email address, which wasn’t that difficult, considering the standard format the department had for email addresses. That, however, changed quickly at Marshall’s insistence and the ones that posed a threat were filed and the people tracked down by their IP addresses.
It was all so unexpected and frightening. She often had to remind herself, This will all die down, don’t worry about it.
And it did, mostly. Until now.
His body shifted and a guttural moan escaped him. Marshall was awake.
“You okay?” he asked as his eyes squinted, appearing to focus in on her shadowed face.
“Can’t sleep. Did I wake you?”
“No. I’ve been drifting in and out mostly. What time is it?” He raised his head slightly to catch sight of the clock on the bedside table, then quickly dropped back down. “Guess we’d better get up now anyway.” Marshall sat up, tossing his legs over the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Everything doesn’t rest on your shoulders, Kate.”
“I know that, but we both know that there have been people out there, since the incident, who’ve been drawn to me. If Shalot is one of them, then I should be the one to get what I can from him.”
He looked over his shoulder toward her curved frame, which was still beneath the covers. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday; earlier this morning, that is. I just worry about you. I know you’re completely capable of handling yourself and I’m sorry if I treat you otherwise.” He turned back. “I love you and I’m scared to death of losing you.”
Katie reached across the bed, resting her hand against his back. “You’re not going to lose me, Marshall, and no one is going to hurt me again. Hendrickson is gone and I don’t think for one minute that Edward Shalot has any intentio
n of harming me. That was a lie. I think he, like some of the others, are just fascinated; nothing more. Besides, I’ve got the entire department at my back, not to mention a few good FBI agents. I just need to feel useful. You know that.”
“You’re right. I’ll go hop in the shower.” Marshall pushed up from the bed. “Care to join me?” He smiled.
“Well, I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week.” Katie soon followed.
The substantial glass doors of the police station reflected the sun’s early morning rays into Katie’s eyes as she approached. She waited for Marshall to catch up and looked out onto the street, noticing how quiet it was. It had finally occurred to her that it was Saturday morning and that was the reason for the empty roads. The days were slipping by almost completely unnoticed.
This morning was the first time she hadn’t felt nauseated. The doctor said it would take a while, but it too would pass. Maybe it was because she’d had other pressing matters that required her attention, but she was grateful to be through the worst of it now.
The conference room where they were to meet with Scarborough appeared more chaotic than the rest of the station. Scarborough had set up three separate workstations, tied into the department’s AV system and displayed a map on the wall-mounted screen of the Highway Hunter’s crime scene locations.
“Did you get any sleep, Nick?” Katie asked, marveling in all that had been accomplished in such a short period of time.
“Not exactly. Got back to the hotel, then got a call from the Virginia office. They’ve been able to further analyze the video from the gas station where the Richmond victim was last seen. I’d spotted someone taking cover in the trees adjacent to the facility and asked that they work to identify the individual. Unfortunately, the cameras were fixed and only took intermittent shots in various locations. Not a very high-tech system, but it was better than nothing. We can only assume that person made his way into the victim’s minivan while she was paying for fuel inside. They’ve come up with a few possibilities. I’m going over them now.”