The Imposter's Trail (The Sean Kruger Series Book 3)

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The Imposter's Trail (The Sean Kruger Series Book 3) Page 12

by J. C. Fields


  Chapter 19

  Atlanta, GA

  Kruger showed his FBI credentials to Dr. Harold Northrup, the managing partner of The Northrup Clinic.

  “Judith was a valued member of our staff, Agent Kruger. I’ll help as much as I can.”

  “I appreciate it, Dr. Northrup.” Kruger unbuttoned the jacket of his gray pinstripe suit and sat down in one of the chairs facing Northrup’s desk. Stephanie sat next to him, dressed in a dark navy pantsuit with a white open-collar silk shirt.

  “Agent Stark told me you hold a Ph.D. in psychology.”

  “Yes, sir. University of Oklahoma, Norman.”

  “Good school.” Northrup was quiet for several moments. “Not sure I can offer more information than what I already have. But, I’ll try. What did you want to ask me?”

  “We know who killed Judith.”

  Northrup nodded. “I was told.”

  “What we’re trying to determine is how she crossed paths with him. I understand the confidentiality of your profession, Dr. Northrup, but if she was treating Randolph Bishop, any notes from her therapy sessions might help us locate him. He’s a dangerous individual and has murdered seven individuals that we know of. Probably more.”

  “I appreciate your understanding, but I can assure you, we have found nothing in Judith’s files showing she was treating anyone by the name of Randolph Bishop.”

  Kruger nodded. “What about a person named Everett Stewart?”

  Northrup stared at Kruger for a few moments, then turned to a keyboard sitting in front of a flat-screen monitor. “Just a second.”

  After typing and moving a mouse around, he stared at the screen and shook his head. “No, no one by that name, either. Who is Everett Stewart?”

  “The name Bishop used to gain entry to the states. He became a fugitive after we found DNA evidence he was a serial killer in St. Louis. We believe he spent the last six years hiding in Thailand. Since he’s on our Most Wanted list, entering under his real name would have raised red flags.”

  “I see.”

  “What about Stephen Blair? What was her relationship to him?”

  “Judith specialized in phobia therapy. We were contacted a month ago by Tom Zimmerman in his attempt to help Stephen with his extreme case of scopophobia. Judith had the experience, so she was chosen to do the therapy.”

  “So it was Zimmerman who made the initial request? Not Blair.”

  “That is correct.”

  “And the initial contact was made just a month ago?”

  Northrup nodded.

  Kruger frowned. “This is the first time we’ve heard Zimmerman made the request. So, Stephen Blair had no contact with your clinic or Judith Day prior to her being assigned to treat him.”

  “Correct.”

  Stephanie asked the next question. “What was the relationship between Judith and Tom?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Judith was killed in Tom Zimmerman’s condo. Why was she there?”

  Kruger smiled slightly; Stephanie’s question was well timed. He looked at Northrup to see what his reaction would be.

  Northrup cleared his throat. “Uh… This is uncomfortable, but you probably need to know. Judith was in a relationship with Tom. I was unaware of it until after the murder. Her assistant told me. It broke a number of our rules. We adhere to strict ethical guidelines concerning our therapists and their relationships with clients.”

  “I can appreciate your concern, Dr. Northrup. We’re trying to establish a connection between Judith and Bishop, not raise ethical questions about your clinic.”

  With a single nod of his head, Northrup asked, “Could it have been random?”

  Kruger shook his head. “Bishop’s killings have never been random. He murders for a reason. In St. Louis, he killed four women who were in competition with him for a job. He butchered his brother’s ex-wife as revenge for trying keep her husband from worshipping him. So, no, he does not kill randomly. There’s a connection somewhere.”

  Northrup nodded thoughtfully. “Classical psychopathic behavior. I take it he hides his rage well?”

  Kruger nodded, thinking back to the incident in the parking lot in St. Louis. “Yes, but I’ve seen it up-close and personal, Doctor. He’s very intelligent and manipulative.”

  “Yes, it can be unnerving.”

  The conversation lagged for a few moments. Kruger used the pause to start another line of questioning. “Let me ask your opinion. In your experience, would someone who has isolated themselves from the public for fifteen years, without seeking therapy, suddenly get a driver’s license and take a trip to Miami?”

  Northrup stared at Kruger for a several moments, blinked several times, and slowly shook his head.

  “I suppose it’s possible, but I would highly doubt it.”

  “I concur. Thank you for your time, Dr. Northrup.”

  ***

  As they drove away from The Northrup Clinic, Stephanie looked at her husband and smiled slightly. “You suspect something, don’t you?”

  Kruger didn’t respond right away, he stared ahead as he drove. Finally, he spoke, “I can’t get past Blair having a miraculous recovery from his scopophobia, selling his company, and flying to Miami.”

  “It could happen.”

  “Yes, I agree, it could happen. I was under the impression Blair requested the therapy himself. Now we learn Zimmerman arranged for the therapy just recently. If Stephen was already being treated, why did Zimmerman contact the clinic for help?”

  “Because Stephen wasn’t being treated. Was he?”

  Kruger shook his head. “No. Stark told me they interviewed most of the management team at Blair’s company. Tom Zimmerman was as close to Stephen as his father used to be; he would have known about any previous or current therapy. In fact, Zimmerman’s assistant told Stark the discussion had been going on for the last month about getting Stephen some help.”

  “What are you thinking, Sean?”

  Kruger glanced at the clock on the rental’s dashboard. “I’m thinking we need to find a nice place for lunch and then pay Stephen Blair a surprise visit.”

  ***

  Randolph Bishop raised the binoculars to his eyes as he watched from the library window. A white Ford Fusion was parked outside the security gate of the mansion. A woman he didn’t recognize stepped out of the passenger door and looked around. When the driver stepped out, he recognized him immediately. It was the FBI agent whose name he used to gain access to Tom Zimmerman and Judith Day. The last time he saw the man was in the parking lot of Harmon, Harmon, and Kinslow on the day he fled the United States for a six-year exile. His stomach tightened, and he felt the rage boil up inside. Closing his eyes, he used the techniques learned in Thailand to calm the tidal wave of emotions. The FBI agent was pushing the call button on the security pad.

  Remaining quiet, he did not move to respond. The buzzer sounded several more times, but he made no effort to answer it. He just watched the car. After several minutes, the man and woman returned to the Ford, got in and drove off. He stared out the window watching as the car receded into the surrounding neighborhood. When it was gone, he walked over to the telephone sitting on the desk in the library and dialed a number used the previous day.

  The call was answered on the second ring. “Coldwell Banker Real Estate, this is Beverly. How may I help you?”

  “Good afternoon, Beverly, this is Stephen Blair. We spoke yesterday about selling my house.”

  “Yes, Stephen. How are you?”

  “I’m great. I’ve decided to list it. Could you bring over the paperwork so we can get started?”

  “Wonderful, would five o’clock be convenient?”

  “Excellent, I’ll see you then.”

  ***

  “Now what?” Stephanie’s question was met with silence.

  After a long twenty seconds, Kruger shook his head. “I can’t tell if I’m being paranoid about Blair, or if there’s a legitimate reason to keep him as a person o
f interest in this case.”

  “Sean, you’ve always told me to follow logic with a touch of instinct when making decisions. What does logic tell you about Stephen Blair?”

  “Hmmm… Logic tells me he’s probably making a recovery. My instinct is telling me something is wrong.”

  “What’s it telling you?”

  “It’s so crazy, I can’t believe I’m actually thinking it.”

  She chuckled, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Somehow, Stephen Blair and Randolph Bishop are the same person.”

  She frowned and looked out the front window of the car. “It would explain a lot.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not possible.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “We could try again tomorrow morning to see him, but our flight home is at 9. Let’s get to the hotel and relax tonight. I’ll call Tom Stark and have him keep an eye on Blair. It’ll be interesting to see what he does next.”

  As they drove toward the hotel, Kruger could not stop thinking about what a little voice in the back of his mind was telling him. Everything about Stephen Blair made zero sense. Something was wrong, but until he received more evidence to go on, he would have to drop it.

  Part Three

  Two Months Later

  Chapter 20

  Springfield, MO

  Mia Ling-Diminski stood behind her husband as they both stared at the computer screen.

  “When did you meet him, JR?”

  “College. He was a few years younger. The man was brilliant. Odd, but brilliant. The code he wrote was pure elegance. I’d never seen anything like it before. I considered myself pretty good, but he was light years ahead of me in college. This is the first time I’ve ever heard of him attending a conference. He sold his company, New Age Software, several months ago to a private equity company. Big mistake.” JR sighed. “At one time, they produced top of the line networking software. I’ve used some of their protocols on several projects. But since the sale, I stopped. I’ve seen first-hand what private equity does to a company.”

  Mia put her hands on his shoulders. “If he doesn’t own his company anymore, does it mention why he’s attending?”

  JR nodded. “He’s in the process of developing a new artificial intelligence startup company, and he’s looking for investors.”

  “Why don’t we go to the conference and meet with him?”

  JR turned around and stared at Mia. She was barely five foot tall, slender, and after three months of being pregnant, a small baby bump was starting to show. Today her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail that almost reached her waist. Her father was from China and her mother from Texas. The combination produced a round face, petite nose and brown almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with intelligence and mischief.

  “I don’t go to conferences, Mia. You know that.”

  She nodded. JR Diminski was not his given name. But it was now his legal name. His past was a mystery to everyone except her and a few close friends. She kissed him on the forehead.

  “Yes, yes… That excuse is getting old. You don’t even look like you did back then. You wear glasses, your hair is shorter and you’ve gained a few pounds. Just go as JR; you have an excellent reputation. You don’t have to mention where you went to college.”

  He turned around and looked at the computer screen again. “I would like to talk to him, but I doubt he would remember who I am. Besides, I might run into someone else I don’t want to run into.”

  “JR, when are you going to stop worrying? Sean’s told you a thousand times, no one is searching for you.”

  “I know, but still…”

  She shook her head, turned, and walked off toward the stairs leading to their third-floor living area. JR stayed on the second floor and stared at the screen for a few more minutes. He started typing, making their reservations for the conference. Except for a brief vacation in Colorado several years ago, it would be his first out of town trip since arriving in Springfield. As he finished making the arrangements for their flight to Las Vegas, he thought to himself, “I guess if you can venture out from your inner demons, I can venture out from mine as well. See you in a few weeks, Stephen Blair.”

  ***

  “Mia and I are going to Las Vegas next week for a few days.”

  Kruger smiled. “JR, are you finally accepting the fact no one is looking for you anymore?”

  JR slowly nodded. “I guess. Old habits die hard, Sean. I still plan on being careful.”

  Chuckling, Kruger shook his head slowly. “You can be such an old man sometimes, JR. What’s the occasion?”

  “Black Hat USA.”

  “That tells me nothing.”

  “Black Hat’s a global information security gathering. There are seminars on the latest information security research, development, tools and trends, without a bunch of salesmen trying to sell you something. It’s perfect for Mia and me; they cater to security practitioners. Plus there will be venture capitalists attending. One of whom you know.”

  Kruger’s eyebrows rose.

  JR nodded. “Stephen Blair is attending.”

  “Really. This is the first I’ve heard about him for a couple of months. We kind of lost track of him after he sold the house in Atlanta.”

  “You never did tell me why?”

  “Tom Stark put him under surveillance for a few weeks. With no results and manpower issues coming into play, he stopped. They never were able to determine a connection between Judith Day and Randolph Bishop. We may never know.”

  “Blair still doesn’t have an internet presence. Which is kind of surprising.” JR hesitated for a few seconds, thought about it and shrugged. “But then again, I don’t either. My company does, but I don’t.”

  “Are you going to meet with him?”

  “No plans to at this point. If I get a chance, I’ll say hello.”

  Kruger nodded, then added, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, the two files you gave us paid off. Sandy and his team stopped a couple of teenagers from entering their high school with AR-15s.”

  JR gave Kruger a grim smile. “How many does that make now?”

  “Four.”

  Shaking his head, JR stood and placed his palms down on the conference table where he and Kruger were meeting. “I’m still not convinced this is the right way to search for them.”

  “JR, if you can think of a better system, I’m all ears.”

  “I just don’t like the invasion of privacy. I’ve spent the last six years trying to keep the men in black from finding me. Now I’m one of them.”

  “I understand, but you weren’t preparing to commit a mass shooting. The four we’ve found so far were prepared to take maximum lives with their attacks. We’ve had a few false alarms and false positives. But those individuals received a little scare and now don’t pretend to be what they aren’t. You’re doing good work, JR. The powers that be are pleased.”

  “Do they know about me?”

  Kruger shook his head. “Only Joseph, the President and myself.”

  “What happens when he serves his two terms? What about the next one?”

  “Hopefully, he or she will understand the sensitivity of the matter. If not, we can shut down.”

  JR straightened from leaning over the table and gave his friend a grim smile.

  “I’m getting a cup of coffee; do you want one?”

  Kruger shook his head and returned to studying the screen of his laptop which showed a file JR gave him before starting their meeting. When JR returned, Kruger looked up. “When did you find this?”

  “It popped up this morning. I’ve had a new snooper program trolling police reports, news outlets, Twitter feeds, and Facebook postings for murders or series of murders similar to what Randolph Bishop commits.”

  “It’s not his pattern, but…”

  “I didn’t think it was, but wanted you to see it.”

  “I don’t like the proximity to Atlanta.”

  JR sipped his coffee. “Exactly why I included
them in the file. Neither did I.”

  Kruger pointed to the screen. “This body was found in the trunk of a car submerged in the Chattahoochee River, a hundred miles from Atlanta, but…”

  “The wounds on the body resemble Judith Day, don’t they?”

  “Similar. Not exact, according to the police report.”

  “Call them and get more details. Reading something on a police report is not the same thing as seeing the body, Sean.”

  Kruger nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “If it was Bishop, it establishes his presence in the area before Judith Day and Zimmerman were murdered.”

  “This report doesn’t identify the body.”

  “Call them.”

  Kruger’s brow furrowed and he gave JR a curt nod. “Not sure why I was hesitating. I’ll patch through the Bureau.”

  ***

  “Troup County Sheriff’s Department, can I help you?”

  “My name is Sean Kruger, Special Agent with the FBI. Is the sheriff available?”

  There was silence on the call, finally, “Uhhh… Please hold.”

  A tinny instrumental version of ZZ Top’s song “LaGrange” was heard as Kruger waited for someone to answer.

  “Sheriff Cooper’s office, this is Nancy.”

  Repeating who he was, Kruger again asked for the sheriff.

  “May I ask what this is about, Agent?”

  “Official business, Nancy. Is the sheriff available or not?”

  There was silence on the other end of the call. Taking a deep breath, Kruger closed his eyes as he calmed his aggravation about the lack of a response. Finally he heard, “I’m sorry, Agent Kruger, but he’s in a departmental meeting at the moment. Is there someone else who could help you?”

  Recognizing the stall tactic, he tried a different approach. “I’m inquiring about the body found in a tributary of the Chattahoochee River yesterday. It may be connected to a case we’re investigating.”

  “I’m sorry, Agent Kruger, but the lead detective for the case is also in the meeting.”

 

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