“I know.”
She took a step, but Sam didn’t move. “You’re not coming?”
He shook his head slowly. “Why did you go inside his house, Paige?”
“I really don’t think now’s the time to talk about—”
“And some witness said that you were with Ferris the night he—”
The tangled web we weave…
Paige crossed her arms. “I lied to her.”
“Why?” Sam’s brow furrowed. “You know what, never mind. I’m going to head back to the hotel.”
“Okay.” She’d be lying if she’d said she wasn’t disappointed, but she also understood…somewhat.
“You sure you’re all right with that?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled at him and hoped it didn’t come across as forced. “Maybe you can get that mani-pedi.”
“Yeah, maybe.” His tone was flat—no amusement, no emotion whatsoever. He kissed her lips again and tapped a peck to her cheek and headed toward the sidewalk, where he lifted his phone to an ear. She stayed there long enough to know he was calling for a cab, and the pain in her chest made her wonder if she’d lost him.
I HAD RETURNED TO THE living room area, not really looking for anything in particular, but trusting that if something should stand out, it would. The seal broke on the front door, and I heard Paige say something to Grafton, but I couldn’t quite make out what.
“Paige!” Zach called from upstairs.
Walking toward the base of the stairs, I met with Paige. There was no sign of Sam, and based on the downward curve to Paige’s lips, I didn’t need to ask if he’d left.
“Paige?” Zach repeated.
“Coming.” She wound around the banister and jogged up the stairs. I followed. Grafton was close behind me.
“We’re in the office,” Zach said.
He and Jack both looked at us when we cleared the doorway.
“Besides that”—Zach gestured to the opened desk drawers, the mess on the floor, which I assumed had at one time been inside the drawers, and the clothes spewing from between the open bifold doors of a closet—“did you do anything else in this room?”
“No,” Paige answered.
“You weren’t on his computer?”
“I was looking for date-rape drugs at this point. I’d have no reason to.” She hitched her shoulders.
“Well the computer is on,” Jack said. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, Jack.”
Grafton wedged himself between me and Paige to get closer to Jack and Zach. “What do you think you’ve found?”
“Nothing yet, but…” Zach swung the office chair around, dropped into it, and flicked on the monitor. The rest of us gathered behind him.
Zach spoke over a shoulder to Grafton. “Besides the mess, nothing else in the house seems out of place to you?”
“No.”
Zach went back to the computer and clicked some keys, then brought up various windows. “The last activity on this computer was online banking.” He brought up the Internet browser, and the website for Hall’s banking institution came up onscreen. “We need to log in.”
“Why? What are you thinking?” Grafton asked.
“This might be a stretch, but I think our unsub may have stolen money from Hall’s account online.”
“Well, why not just take his debit card? Credit cards? All those things were left at the crime scene,” Grafton said.
“The killer wanted more time, and cards are easily tracked,” Zach said, punching at more keys.
“I still don’t understand,” Grafton began. “They’d just take the debit card to an ATM, take out the money, and flee.”
“And they’d risk getting caught on camera,” I spoke up. It got me a sour expression from the detective.
Zach kept his eyes on the monitor as he spoke to us. “What people often make the mistake of doing is allowing Google or their search engine of choice to remember their passwords. Hall didn’t do this.”
“How are you going to get in, then?” Grafton asked, seeming more agitated than curious.
“I have my ways.”
“You’ll have his records pulled,” Grafton said sternly.
Zach shrugged. “There are other things we can try first. People often use programs to store passwords.”
“I use one of those. They say they’re secure.” A faint hint of panic sounded in Grafton’s voice.
“Nothing online is secure.”
Grafton audibly swallowed. I knew what he’d be doing the second he left here.
“I’m opening Hall’s e-mail program.” Zach provided a narrative to what he was doing.
“And what’s that going to tell you?”
Jack, Paige, and I just remained quiet and let Zach take the reins on this.
Zach didn’t respond to Grafton right away. The program opened, and he went to the contacts tab. “People sometimes keep their passwords in this section,” he explained. He smiled. “And there it is. SecureIt. The name of a password collection service is right here.” Zach opened the window, and sure enough, just as he had predicted, there was a username and password.
“I’ll be damned,” Grafton moaned.
I smiled at Jack, who didn’t return the expression. Paige had one of her own tucked away but didn’t make eye contact with me.
Zach entered the information for SecureIt, and in seconds, he had the ability to access all Hall’s online accounts, including his banking. He went back to the log-in screen and had access to Hall’s accounts in less than five seconds. The balances on the three accounts were minimal, but there was a sizable 401(k) showing for sixty thousand dollars. A credit card showed a balance of $575.43.
Zach worked through the accounts and struck a find on the third. He pressed a finger to the transaction. “A transfer of five thousand was made as of yesterday’s date.”
“I still don’t understand. Why not take the cash from an ATM and run?” Grafton was one stubborn son of a bitch.
Zach turned to look at him now. “He’d never have gotten that amount from the machine. Hall’s ATM limit was a thousand.” He maneuvered to another screen and pointed out this fact.
“So two questions… Why did our killer take—or need—so much money, and was it part of the killer’s motive?” I asked.
“Add a third, Brandon,” Paige said. “How did they know Hall had any money to take in the first place?”
“Was it motive for the murder?” Grafton asked, seeming lost.
“Given the other aspects of the case, no,” Jack stamped out. “It was an added bonus.”
“Payment for his troubles,” Grafton mumbled.
“Yeah, something like that,” I said.
“Well, wouldn’t the bank flag a sizable transfer like that?” Grafton was like a dog with a bone.
“Not necessarily,” Zach began. “And if they did, it would likely take a few days.” He glanced at me, then Paige, then Jack, and back to Grafton. “And if that’s the case, our unsub planned ahead.”
-
Chapter 23
WE LEFT HALL’S HOUSE and returned to the Hyatt where the four of us gathered in Jack’s room. We were able to ditch Grafton, and there was no sign of Sam. Jack had his cell phone to his ear.
“Nadia, dig further. You found Malone, and I’m guessing there’s more. Expand the search to the entire United States.” He paced a few steps and continued. “The forensic evidence pulled from Hall’s crime scene is being forwarded to Quantico, if it’s not there already. I need you to follow it through, and let us know if the results trigger anything in the system. This case is ours now.” Then he paused, listening. “Yes, Paige was released to my custody. But we’re going to still need to prove her innocence.” Another pause on Jack’s end. Base
d on his grimace and the way his eyes darted around the room, not settling on any of us in particular, Nadia was saying something that wasn’t making him too happy. After a few more seconds, he said, “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter now.”
I sensed that it did matter. And it probably had something to do with Paige. My guess? Nadia had helped Paige find Ferris Hall.
“I also need you to track the money transfer made from Hall’s bank account as of yesterday’s date for five thousand. See if you can find out if Malone had money taken from his account at his time of death, too.”
Jack put his phone away. “All right. Let’s talk.”
“I’ve been thinking about why the killer took the money, and I don’t think it was the motive,” Paige said.
Zach nodded. “There’s nothing to indicate our unsub is using money as part of their criteria to choose their victims.”
Paige looked at me. “I agree with Zach, and I definitely think the unsub is primarily targeting rapists. The victims’ histories and the Rohypnol are just too obvious.”
“We need to get concrete proof that Malone’s and Hall’s murders are connected,” Jack began. “Until forensic findings come back on Hall, we’ll all focus on Malone. Let’s see if maybe we can find a connection in their lives, too, aside from the way they were killed.”
“What do you suggest, Jack?” Paige asked.
“Kyle Malone was found in his apartment by the building manager. You and Zach go talk to him.”
“We could talk to some of Malone’s neighbors from back then, too,” Paige suggested.
“Sounds good,” Jack said.
Zach nodded. “We’re on it. All of it.”
“While you’re doing that, Brandon and I will talk to Malone’s supervisor from his last recorded job.”
-
Chapter 24
ZACH WAS DRIVING, as he usually did, and Paige was in the passenger seat wishing she had something to say. But as much as she didn’t love the silence, she didn’t much feel like talking. Nadia had called and told them three tenants from Malone’s time still lived in the building. They’d go find them after they spoke to the building manager.
In the quiet, her thoughts were on Brandon. She couldn’t get over how fast he had made his way to her at Ferris’s, how he pulled her into his arms, and then how tightly he had held her. Being so close to him was so comforting given what she had been through. It felt natural… Why couldn’t her feelings for him just go away? She had Sam now. But she hated the way Brandon kept looking at her as if she were some fragile glass vase. She didn’t need his pity or his support. And Sam…he seemed more angry than empathetic. Brandon must have told Sam that she’d used her one call on him. Had he just spouted it out in some argument just to hurt Sam? Brandon did have a temper and an ego… Or did it come out unintentionally? If Sam pushed him, Brandon probably wouldn’t hesitate to bring up the phone call. When she had a chance, she’d have to ask Brandon about it. It was the only way she’d be able to figure out how to tackle the situation with Sam.
God, she hated this. But what she disliked the most about the last twenty-four hours—and surprisingly it wasn’t her time behind bars or that the FBI director knew she’d been suspected of murder—was how she had disappointed Jack.
And while Jack was showing his normal drive to find a killer, she worried he might be seeing something that wasn’t there this time. It was quite possible that the person who had killed Ferris was not the same one who had killed Malone. Jack might have been reaching to link the two cases. And their team normally investigated only when there was no question of serial killer involvement or if murders crossed state lines. So far, neither of those criteria had been established. But she would put everything she could into getting the answers. If they could prove Malone and Ferris were the victims of one killer, then she’d feel a little relief, as if this whole nightmare had been for some greater purpose. She didn’t think she’d ever fully forgive herself for placing Jack and the rest of the team in the position of proving her innocence, though. Whatever happened to the evidence doing that?
She glanced over at Zach.
He took his attention from the road briefly and smiled at her. “How are you doing?”
“That’s the question of the week, isn’t it?” She laughed, even though her heart wasn’t in it.
“Yeah, I guess it would be. I’m—”
She held up her hand. “No need to apologize. I still think I’ll wake up and it will have all been a very bad dream.”
“I bet.” He looked at her over the rim of his sunglasses.
He didn’t need to say any more. Anyone who had been in her position would have wished for it to be the result of an overactive imagination. She knew that she should shake off the entire experience and move on, but she was finding that hard to do. Maybe because of the way Jack would look at her periodically, as if he’d lost some of his admiration for her and she’d have to earn it back. The only way to do that was over time and with hard work. Jack’s respect wasn’t given easily. It was this fact that hurt her more than anything. Their relationship went back so many years. Everyone else in her life—Zach, Brandon, Sam—were new acquaintances in comparison to Jack. She had met him back when she was working in New York, before she taught at the training academy. She’d just have to sink herself into this case and prove herself to Jack again.
With that, images from Ferris’s and Malone’s murders flooded her mind. She had a feeling she’d remember them until her last breath.
“The coroner said that Malone’s mutilation took place while he was alive, right?” she asked Zach.
He nodded. “Just like Hall’s.”
A wave of nausea crashed over her, and bile rose in her throat. She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed, willing the sensation to pass.
Zach turned into the lot for Malone’s apartment building, and she was glad when the car came to a standstill in a parking spot and Zach cut the engine.
“The building manager’s name is Roy Nichols, and he’s been in the role for ten years,” Zach said, refreshing her on the details.
“So four of those years were before Malone was murdered.”
“That would be the math,” he teased and opened his door. He must have noticed she hadn’t moved. He looked back over a shoulder. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Heck, if Zach could work this case being a man, with all that mutilation, who was she to play faint of heart? She opened her car door. “Let’s do this.”
THE MANAGER’S APARTMENT HAD BEEN easy to find, and Roy Nichols, an older man with a dusting of gray hair, had answered the door on the first knock.
“Kyle Malone? Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” he said, pushing his oval-shaped glasses up his nose. “Not that I’ll ever forget it.”
Roy invited them into his apartment and led them to a living room. While he fit the image of a grandfather, his dwelling was sparsely decorated with only a couple of framed photographs on an end table. Both pictures were of the same woman. Paige guessed it was a late wife. In the corner of the small living room was a compact piano, and a brass crucifix hung on the wall above it.
“Are you a religious person?” she asked, bobbing her head toward the cross.
His gaze followed to where she had indicated. “Yes, you could say that. Darla was more so than me, but yes, I believe in God and the Devil. And that Malone…”
“That Malone?” Zach prompted.
“He brought the Devil to this building.” Roy made the sign of the cross on his chest. The deeply etched ridges in his brow compressed, creating distinct rows.
Based on his age and traditional religious background, he was likely prejudiced against Malone’s lifestyle. “Is that because he was homosexual?” Paige pressed him.
“I know in t
his day and age the proper thing to say would be, So what? Let everyone live his life without judgment. But maybe some of what Darla used to say stuck. I believe God made man and woman, not man and man, for a reason.” His cheeks were becoming bright red.
Roy apparently clung to religion more than he realized. Paige was keeping a close eye on the man’s body language, and based on the hardness of his eyes and the way he kept swallowing, he was both angry and uncomfortable with their presence and the topic of discussion. Was Roy involved with Malone’s murder somehow? Or was it simply guilt for not feeling remorse over the loss of life? She wondered what kept the old man in the building. As Roy had said, Malone had “brought the Devil.”
“Mr. Nichols, why did you stay here after Mr. Malone’s murder?” Paige asked. “Why not move?”
Roy looked back and forth between her and Zach. “Why should I have moved? I’d done nothing wrong. It was the sinner.”
It? Sinner? Ouch.
Sadly, Paige felt that Roy likely had viewed Malone as less than human for his lifestyle choices.
Roy waved a finger at Paige. “I see how you feel about my beliefs. It’s all over your face, but it doesn’t matter. You may also think I’m living in the past, but I tell you—” Roy let out a whistle “—he opened my eyes. And then finding him… I’ll never forget that day. Still have nightmares.” Roy was gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my sixty-eight years.” He paused. “Well, I was sixty-two at the time, but you know what I mean. Nothing before and nothing since compares to that.” He signed another cross and then, as if he’d finally become aware of what he was doing, dropped his hands.
“We’d like you to tell us more about when you found him,” Paige said.
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