“That’s to be expected,” Cory Lawson replied.
“I’ll inform Ms. Taggert you’re here,” said the secretary. She hit a buzzer on her desk.
“Maybe you should—”
The inner door opened hard enough to hit the wall, cutting off the rest of Patrick’s warning.
“We’re ready for you,” Assistant Director in Charge Lance Morgan said. He waved them over impatiently.
Ann, Patrick, Baker, and Lawson hustled inside before the thin window of opportunity could slam shut.
“We are not ready yet!” hissed Irina Taggert at Morgan. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. We have to save whatever face we can on—”
“We have to save whatever lives we can, Ms. Taggert,” Morgan interrupted. “My two agents are intimately familiar with the Dawson Case. They’re perfect for the task force.”
“We don’t even know if this case is linked to the Dawson Case,” said Taggert, squeezing the life out of her pen before dropping it onto her desk. “The perpetrator could be pulling names from thin air. Anybody with enough time can look up news articles on old murder cases.”
“It feels the same,” said Patrick.
Taggert shifted her icy glare to him.
“Feelings don’t go over well with lawyers, Agent Duncan.”
“Baker said the kidnapper mentioned the Dawson and Green cases,” Patrick noted.
Taggert folded her arms and inserted get-to-the-point into her expression.
“Those cases were three years and two states apart, ma’am,” Ann explained. “It took us a long time to find the links between those cases. News stories alone shouldn’t be enough to link them.”
“I checked both files. You don’t have any solid evidence linking the cases,” Taggert snapped. “The victims are opposite genders. They died differently. They came from vastly different socioeconomic situations. There is no connection. If we claim a connection that doesn’t exist, we’ll look like fools!”
If we don’t claim a connection that is there, innocent people could die.
“I’m not asking you to throw a ticker tape parade here, Irina. I want them consulting on the case,” said Morgan.
“But they’re married,” Taggert argued. “There’s no way that’s going to fly with—”
“Leave that to me,” interrupted Morgan. “The Dawson case is technically Patrick Duncan’s but I see no reason to keep Julie Ann in the dark. I’m assigning her to the Green case. If there are connections between all three cases, then they’ll find them.”
Taggert looked like she had a sour warhead stuck between her teeth, but she nodded.
“Fine, but I can’t spare two agents. Pick one.”
“I think I’ll bow out, ma’am,” offered Lawson. “Baker’s worked with these two before. I’d be odd man out anyway.”
“Done. You may go, Agent Lawson,” said Taggert. Once she turned her attention back to Morgan, she demanded, “Tell me what you have so far.”
Morgan waved to the Duncans to explain.
Ann silently thanked Patrick’s case-induced insomnia and insistence that they spend the evening pouring over as many case files as possible. Obviously, they hadn’t thought to pack such files, but Patrick kept a copy of the Green and Dawson cases on his secure email. Baker had tracked down the initial files on the Edinboro cases that had opened Friday.
As Morgan started to protest that they would need time to prepare, Patrick spoke.
“In every case—Green, Dawson, Carver, and Tyler—the perpetrator and his or her accomplices show an unusually high tendency to contact the victims’ families.”
“The method of contact differs, but that could be explained by natural evolution of technology or the killer’s need to experiment,” Ann explained.
“How many accomplices are we dealing with?” asked Taggert.
“At least one, likely more,” Baker answered. “The timing on the Tyler kidnapping was too perfect. Either our perpetrator is really good with technology or he has some extra eyes. Besides, I checked out that tree the Carver boy was attached to. It looks like two people worked together to rig that system, one to prepare things above and one to attach the kid to the pulley system later.”
“Did the hospital take blood from the Carver boy for a tox screen?” asked Morgan.
Baker nodded.
“The lab’s backed up, but they should have the samples by now.”
“Good enough. I’ll see if I can motivate them,” said Morgan.
“Lawson questioned the Carver boy’s father by phone, and I ran a background check,” reported Baker. “Didn’t turn up much. Jack Carver got in a bar fight and failed to pay a traffic ticket, but nothing serious came up on the initial sweep. Shall I go deeper?”
“If necessary,” Taggert replied, nodding at Baker before turning her attention back to the Duncans. “What are you getting at?”
“The Carver boy didn’t die, but statements he made to the police and Agent Baker indicate he saw Karen Tyler being abducted,” Ann revealed. “She might have been the intended target all along.”
“Then why bother with Silas Carver?” wondered Morgan.
“Elaborate staging is a mark of this perpetrator, if it is the same person,” said Patrick.
“Lillian Green was poisoned with arsenic, dressed in her school uniform, and placed in the cafeteria with a cup of Earl Grey tea,” explained Ann. “We’ll know more once we get the actual, annotated case file. That information was from database summaries.”
“I’ll call the Edinboro PD and have them prep the Green file for you,” Taggert offered.
Ann nodded thanks.
“Gabriel Dawson died from a stab wound but his body sustained numerous blows from a variety of blunt objects,” said Patrick.
Catching her breath, Ann tried to ignore Patrick’s recount of how they’d found Gabriel Dawson. She knew it very well. The brutality had shaken her then, and the knowledge that the same killer might be loose again troubled her.
“The killer favors deadlines,” said Ann, trying to focus. “They vary from hours to weeks. It’s part of his need to play with the victims’ families.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but why did the killer let Silas Carver live?” asked Taggert. “Do you have any theories?”
Glancing at each other, Ann and Patrick each subtly motioned for the other to answer. They had debated this issue for almost an hour the previous night.
“We think it’s a taunt, ma’am,” said Patrick, after an awkward silence.
“The killer’s saying, ‘I’m back, but here’s an easy case to warm up,’” Ann said.
Taggert and Morgan started speaking at the same time. Morgan waved for Taggert to continue.
“What makes you think there’s only one killer?” inquired Taggert.
“The frequency of the messages and their wording,” answered Patrick. “He or she tends to mention bits about other cases.”
“He definitely has helpers,” Ann added, “but he most likely handles the killing himself.”
“What other cases are linked to these?” asked Morgan.
“That will be our first priority,” Ann replied, gesturing to herself and Patrick. “Baker should take point on the Tyler investigation since he’s already established the groundwork. We’ll try to trace the larger picture. Obviously, the skeleton found yesterday could have a link. We’ll have to wait for the medical examiner’s report to be sure.”
Taggert’s phone rang.
“Irina Taggert speaking, how may I help you? … I see. Thank you for calling, Chief Finney. I’ll have an agent on the way soon. Yes, we’ll keep you informed of the investigation.” Taggert looked troubled as she placed her phone back in its cradle. “Looks like you’ll have two bodies to connect to the Tyler case. They found another one in the Erie National Wildlife Refuge. Get going, Baker.”
Chapter 9:
Casualties
Crawford County Medical Examiner’s Office
G
uys Mills, Pennsylvania
Monday morning, Patrick Duncan and George Baker ate an early breakfast at the Davidson house with Mr. Davidson and Malia, the only early riser by choice rather than necessity. Then, they drove separately to the brand new office where both victims from the wildlife refuge had been taken. It took Patrick an hour and fifteen minutes to make the drive from Fairview to Guys Mills. He found George waiting impatiently for him in the parking lot.
“What took you so long?” asked Baker. “We left at the same time.”
“I talked to Ann after you left,” said Patrick.
“They’re probably half done the autopsies by now,” Baker complained.
“Their report and impressions are the important part,” reminded Patrick.
When they walked into the viewing room, Detective Donald Wickerman stood to greet them.
“Good to see you again, Agent Baker,” said Wickerman, after a round of handshakes and introductions. “Thought you FBI boys were the punctual sort.”
“We arrive when we’re needed,” Patrick replied.
“Did we miss anything?” asked Baker.
“Nope, just a lot of medical blather,” said Wickerman. “I was about to find a coffee machine when you showed up.”
“Are we that popular?” asked Baker, wondering why their presence would derail Wickerman’s plans.
“Duncan. That name sounds familiar. You worked the Dawson case, right?” Wickerman asked, ignoring Baker’s rhetorical question.
“Yes, and you worked the Green case a few years before that. My wife stopped by your HQ yesterday for a copy of the file,” said Patrick.
“Right. My buddy, Ralph Porter, mentioned something like that. It took him a long time to dig up that dusty tome. Your boss called ahead to clear it though so I guess that saved some time.”
“Actually, Ms. Taggert’s my boss,” Baker clarified. “His boss is the nice, polite African American gentleman. The one who sticks up for his people. Figures, I get stuck with Irina the Ice Queen, pen-pushing bureaucrat.”
Patrick put a hand on Baker’s shoulder.
“You probably don’t want to air those opinions in public.”
“Oh, right, sorry. Forget I said anything, detective,” said Baker sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wickerman said. “Everybody’s got some sort of beef with their boss. You should hear what the boys call Chief Finney. Gone Fishin’ Finney’s about the tamest of ’em.”
“Why’s that?” Baker wondered.
“He spends a lot of weekends away,” answered Wickerman.
The door opened, sparing them the rest of the Edinboro PD gossip.
An attractive young woman wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard entered the viewing room.
“Detective … Wickerman?”
“Here.”
“Dr. Rannok will—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize these autopsies would be so popular.”
“These fellows are here from the FBI,” Wickerman explained. “Show the lady your badges, lads.”
Patrick sighed but complied with Wickerman’s suggestion.
“When can we speak with Dr. Rannok?”
“Momentarily,” puffed a short man with plenty of gray mixed in with his brown hair. “All right, young sirs, now that I’m here, you may speak with me. What would you like to know?”
It had been quite some time since Patrick had been a “young sir,” and judging from Wickerman’s expression, the same went for him as well.
Baker—to whom the title could reasonably still apply—said, “We came to ask some questions about your autopsies on the bodies from the wildlife refuge.”
“May I record the conversation?” inquired Patrick.
“Of course, but we should move to my office. I’m feeling confined in here.”
Once the transition had been made and everybody was seated in chairs pilfered from nearby offices, Wickerman poised a pen over his notepad.
“How did they die?” he asked.
“In layman’s terms, the young lady died from a broken neck, most likely from a rapid descent of some sort. Whether that was down some stairs or a steep hill or something else entirely will take more time to determine. I would, however, tentatively rule out any freefall situations. The other broken bones aren’t consistent with freefall. Time of death is harder to estimate. I can safely say that the dump site is not the place where the young lady died. I suggest hiring an anthropologist. I’m a pathologist. My area of expertise is limited to what I would term ‘wet deaths.’ An anthropologist would have much more experience with a skeletal case like this.”
“We will do that, thank you, Dr. Rannok,” said Patrick. “What can you tell us about the other victim’s death?”
“That one is much easier. The poor fellow was shot at close range with a large caliber handgun. The damage to his skull is rather significant. Liver temperature taken on scene indicated a plausible time of death sometime Saturday morning.”
“What can you tell us about the victims’ ages?” asked Wickerman.
“Height, weight, and bone markings—measurements and the like—tell us the young fellow was probably about to enter his teens. Pity. He was a handsome lad. The young lady was slightly older, probably thirteen or fourteen.”
Wickerman cursed.
“I hate it when people target kids.”
Patrick and Baker eyed Wickerman with some surprise.
“Edinboro’s a relatively peaceful place. This is the third and fourth murder investigation I’ve ever been involved with and that’s a stretch since technically it’s not even my jurisdiction, but these are the second and third dead kids I’ve come across. There’s something wrong with that.”
Everybody agreed.
“I can’t tell you much else, but the young woman’s bone structure seems consistent with Negroid features. That means she was most likely of Black African descent,” explained Dr. Rannok. He pulled out a card and handed it to Patrick. “Call Dr. Bahl. I can send her pictures and recordings as necessary. She should be able to tell you more in a few days.”
***
Davidson Residence
Fairview, Pennsylvania
Ann split her time between poring over the case files she had gathered and watching her children. Therefore, she did neither task well. Amanda seemed especially cranky this morning, and Joseph had a persistent cough. After calling her doctor for permission, Ann pumped the little guy full of cough syrup and tucked him in with Toy Story on in the background. The noise still carried through to the dining room where she had the cases files spread out like entrées.
“Would you like some tea, dear?” asked her mother, standing in the threshold between the dining room and the kitchen.
Ann reluctantly accepted the offer. “Tea” was usually her mother’s code word for “we need to have a serious conversation.” While the tea was being prepared, Ann peeked in on her daughter who had finally tired of screaming.
A few minutes later, Carol Davidson crept up behind Ann and quietly announced that the tea was ready.
“You can talk normally, Mom. Once you wear her down, I think you could host an opera in the same room and Amanda would still be out cold.” Ann followed her mother to the kitchen where two mugs of piping hot green tea awaited, chose one at random, and sat down to hear her mother out. Had she been fully rested, she might have been able to predict where the conversation would go, but sleep deprivation slowed her mental processes.
Probably why reading those cases is such a chore.
Carol cleared her throat.
“Your father and I had a talk last night.”
Ann used tea drinking as a method of waiting for her mother to elaborate.
“I—we think you should leave the children here when you go to Edinboro to work on this new case.”
The offer took Ann by surprise. Once upon a time, she had brought Joseph here to her parents’ house to keep him out of danger, but those had been extenuating circumstances. For a moment
, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed by the offer. She settled on a neutral response.
“I … hadn’t really thought that far.”
“I know you usually turn to the Parker family for such help, but they’re over five hours away. Besides, they’ll need time to prepare for that vacation you and Patrick arranged for them.” Carol sipped at her tea, added more sugar, then drank some more. “And I know you.”
Well, that’s a loaded statement. What does it mean? Ann let a raised eyebrow ask the question for her.
“Do you remember when that Henry boy bullied Joy when they were in fourth grade?”
Ann nodded.
“It wasn’t only Joy.”
“You spent weeks investigating the claims. It consumed your life. You’re like that with every case, I’m sure. You and Patrick will be off at a moment’s notice to this city or that to track down the criminals. It’s no life for children, dear. At least here you can visit them more often than you would if you took them back home or left them with the Parkers.”
“I’ll talk to Patrick,” Ann promised, silently acknowledging that her mother made some good points. “Are you sure it’s not going to be too much of a burden? These investigations can take a long time.”
Carol leveled a look at Ann that said: how dare you call my grandchildren a burden.
“Not so long ago I raised three little ones, love. Look how well they turned out.”
“I don’t know,” Ann replied. “That youngest one is trouble.”
“Nicholas is … unique. I’ll give you that, but he’ll always come through when it counts. He even agreed to watch the children at least once a week.”
“Nick volunteered for something involving children?”
Carol laughed.
“I think he’s really volunteering Claire, but close enough.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Joy’s thinking about taking a leave of absence from her job to plan the wedding. If she does, she’ll temporarily relocate to her old room.”
“I thought one of the girls had Joy’s old room,” said Ann.
Carol’s mug hit the table hard, splashing tea onto her hand.
The Keres Case (Heartfelt Cases Book 4) Page 7