On Dangerous Ground
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enough confidence left to pull off one last comment. “I won’t let him hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Terri, I know that. You know that I love you, right?”
“Yeah, Jen, I know that too. Try to relax, have a normal day, and I’ll call you soon.”
Jen sounded small as she said, simply, “Okay, bye.”
Terri snapped the phone closed and returned to the office. Damn, this was hard.
The tension was palpable. Everyone in the office was sitting on the edge of a knife blade, unable to do anything but wait and watch her, evidently. The loss of objectivity was the worst part. Terri had never faced anything quite like this before. She was scared, and that was never good when the one thing she needed most of all was a clear, level head. All of the bullshit that Davis had thrown her way about Jen’s past was floating around in her head, intermingled with the tension. It really sucked that he knew about her relationship with Jen. It was almost like he had been counting on it, but there was no way for him to know that it would happen. Was there? She was sure it had all been carefully calculated to throw the investigation off track. She dismissed it as the rantings of a lunatic who was trying to keep her off balance. That’s why he had called, just to fuck with her. And it had worked. She stopped behind Bobby on the way back to her own desk, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked, “Anything yet?”
“We don’t have much. Davis was gone, just like you thought, and his apartment was cleaned out. Ann Arbor already issued the APB. The cell phone was in a trash can across the street. The only thing they found was four overflowing ashtrays and a note. They’re faxing us a copy of it. I’ll just go check and see if it’s here.”
Since there was nothing to do but wait until the fax arrived,
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Terri availed herself of the time to pull out the rest of the case files from the drawer. The largest file had all the information regarding the first four attacks. She shook her head. They could have spent the next six months looking for patterns that didn’t exist in the numbers found at the crime scenes. “Shit,”
she muttered under her breath. If she had been able to tell Jen about the numbers, this would have all been over and done with already, but now Davis had managed to elude them. Also, the fact that there were additional attacks at all seemed simply bizarre. If he wanted Jen, why didn’t he just go get her? It was becoming all too apparent that Bradley Allen Davis was playing with them, and perhaps working up to a big finish. Why was pretty obvious. He was nuts, driven by a need for revenge for his prison abuse and subsequent health problems. What Terri didn’t know was when. Would he go directly to Virginia, or was there somewhere else he needed to stop first? More questions, no answers.
She was just about to slam her hands onto the desk in frustration when Bobby reappeared with the fax. He said nothing, but he looked worried. He handed the papers to Terri. It was the preliminary police report, just a brief summary of information that they already knew. The apartment was empty, the computer was gone, and everything else was gone with the exception of the original of the second fax—one single page that knocked the breath from her and would have dropped her to her knees if she’d been standing. A computer-generated image, blown up to eight by ten, of the Virginia driver’s license photo of one Dr. Jennifer Rosenberg. The complete series of numbers, just as Jen had described, was scrawled across her face in bold marker strokes, with one simple message to be delivered.
Tell Jen I’ll see her in Hell.
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Chapter twenty-twO
He drove east into the sunrise for a short while, then headed south on I-75 into Ohio and toward his next destination. The rental car, while adequate, provided little comfort for his throbbing head, so he took a small one-hit pipe from his shirt pocket, sparked the Zippo to life, and applied flame to the small bud in the bowl. Inhaling deeply, he felt the first warm glow of relief as the unfiltered smoke tore into his ragged throat. “Not too much. No need to get pulled over.”
Not when he was getting so close to the completion of his plan. One more little detail to take care of, then he was taking a side trip to the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
This part of the plan was the most complicated, but would throw the biggest monkey wrench into the investigation. He took one more hit off the weed before returning the bowl to his shirt pocket. He had everything he needed for the next step, with one exception. A decoy. Someone who looked enough like him to waylay the FBI for twenty-four hours. The decoy would be a tricky find, but Bradley Allen Davis was in control now, and since he was now officially calling the shots, he could take a little time to find what he needed. And it was a long way from Michigan to Kentucky, so time was his ally. The phone call to the FBI had been a lot of fun. Those
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people were always so cool. Agent McKinnon was definitely not one to be trifled with, but he sensed a weakness. Actually, he had heard that weakness. One small shift in her demeanor when he’d asked about Rosenberg. That meant he had her. It also meant that he’d need to be careful how he handled her from here on out. Since Rosenberg had managed to weasel her way into the good graces of the FBI by working the romantic angle with Agent McKinnon, things might get tricky. But he still had plenty of time to worry about that. It was time to start checking out the rest stops and roadside spots for the right hitchhiker.
v
Terri was still doing her best caged animal impersonation when McNally finally arrived in the office a little before eight a.m. He had some knowledge about the situation but needed to be brought up to speed. Motioning for Bobby and Terri, he strode into his own office, sat at his desk, folded his hands on the flat surface, and asked, “What’s going on?”
Terri immediately launched into the full rundown, including the text message that Jen had received, Terri’s phone call from Davis, and the police report from Ann Arbor. She left out the part where Davis knew that she and Jen had been seeing each other. She was doing her best to control her own raging anxiety, but McNally hadn’t spent thirty years at the Bureau without learning a thing or two about human behavior. She knew that he would certainly sense something from her that he’d never seen before, and that could make things complicated.
He looked right at Terri, staring holes into her, and asked again. “What’s going on?”
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She quickly decided that the best course of action was innocence, however feigned. “Sir?”
“McKinnon, I’ve watched you for the last seven years. You are one cool cookie…usually. Is there something about this Rosenberg person that I should know about? Something, shall we say, outside of the case?”
Terri felt the rage begin to bubble through, pushing aside the anxiety. Fortunately for her, rage was easier controlled than anxiety. “Sir, I don’t know what you could possibly be suggesting, but we have a potential death threat here, made against an innocent citizen, and I…we have the power to stop it. I don’t understand why we’re still sitting here.”
“I suppose you’re right. So what’s your plan?”
Terri felt herself shift into efficient agent mode as she explained the plan. “Agent Kraft and I will go down to Mount Crawford. Since we know that ground transportation is Davis’s only option, we figured we have at least twelve hours to work. Minus, of course, the two hours for the trip.” McNally nodded his consent, indicating that she should continue. “We call the county sheriff and request some vehicular support, check the perimeter of the property, and secure the house.”
“And then what? Do you want to consider moving her somewhere?”
Terri jumped on the answer before he could even finish the question. “No, sir. I really don’t think that’s necessary. Her house is far more secure than any hotel, and Davis has proven to be adept at locating he
r as well as her acquaintances. The home has limited entrances, there’s no risk of civilian interference, and she’s more familiar with the surroundings.”
“She knows the best places to hide, right?”
“That’s right. Also, if we move her, there’s always the risk that he’ll just wait us out. We can’t hide her forever.”
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McNally thought for a moment. “All right. I’ll approve this.” Terri almost leapt from her chair, ready to take action as he held his hand up to slow her, pointing at both of them in the process. “But I want you two wired. Go downstairs and check out a couple of those Secret Service radio rigs, and maintain constant contact. I’d feel better if the Richmond field agents were taking care of this, but I think you’ll just argue with me, so I’m giving you this. You’re on a short leash here, Agent McKinnon. I never pegged you for the cowboy type, but you seem to believe that you have some insight here, so I’ll have to trust that. Please don’t give me any reason not to.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated that they could go. Terri practically shot from the office, but McNally stopped Bobby before he could follow her. While she waited for him, Terri slipped her computer into its bag, along with the case files, including the faxed pages from the Ann Arbor police. Her plan all along had been to drive to Mount Crawford to check on Jen. She’d gone as far as to suggest packing a suitcase just in case, which he had done. Terri was determined when she was on a mission. And she was probably right. They needed to be at Jen’s house—to protect her and to bring this case safely to a close before anyone else was hurt. Terri was action girl, and she knew that Bobby trusted her enough to go along.
He finally came out of McNally’s office. Terri couldn’t stand it. “What was that all about?” she asked.
Bobby grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her toward the elevator, “That was about you, Agent McKinnon.” He lowered his voice, “He told me to keep an eye on you.”
She pulled out of his grip. “I’m fine, Bobby. Let’s go.”
“Just a second, Terri, we need to stop at the supply desk downstairs,” Bobby said as he packed up his laptop. “I want to take a truck instead of my car.”
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“Good. There’s more room in there anyway for our equipment.”
They got to the basement and headed directly to the supply area. Checking out two earpiece/transmitter wires, they both shrugged out of their jackets and clipped the battery packs to their belts. Bobby helped Terri run the wires up her back, anchoring the one for the earpiece to her collar and running the other down her left arm for the microphone that attached to her wristwatch. After carefully pulling her jacket back on, she helped Bobby through the same procedure. As they signed for the radios, extra batteries, and the Chevy Suburban, the supply officer asked if they needed anything else.
Terri jumped on the request. “We need a Mossberg, two boxes of shells, and two Kevlar vests.” She knew that Bobby was momentarily surprised at her request for the large shotgun, but his nod indicated he agreed that she was probably right, especially about the Kevlar, as she accepted the weapon and slipped the ammunition into her coat pockets. Unpredictable criminals were the worst kind, and the extra firepower and body armor would be welcome. Bobby grabbed the keys and the two vests and followed Terri back through the supply area and into the underground parking area where the vehicles were garaged. They made a brief stop at Bobby’s car for their overnight bags, then found their loaner.
Terri stood by the truck, loading seven shells into the Mossberg 500 when the receiver in her left ear crackled to life. Bobby was testing the radio connection, and she heard his voice as if it was being piped directly into her skull.
“Mary One to Butch One, over.” Her serious resolve was finally broken and she laughed, looking through the vehicle to where he was standing, talking to his watch, grinning like an idiot and pointing at her. “See, I knew you were still in there somewhere.”
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It proved to be the relief that she needed. She quipped back, testing her own voice-activated microphone, “Mary One, why do I have to be Butch One, over?”
He answered with a huge laugh of his own as she realized what he was pointing at and looked down at herself. She was standing, feet spread wide, talking to the left sleeve of her jacket with the butt end of a rather large shotgun sitting on her right hip. “Okay, I get it. Very funny. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
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Chapter twenty-three
Bradley was several hours into his drive when he pulled into his third rest area, just north of Cincinnati, Ohio. His driving had been the picture of control, sticking to the speed limit as he constantly scanned the side of the road for the hitchhiker that would fit his requirements. He finally found his mark, sitting on a bench just outside the building that housed the rest rooms. A college student dressed in blue jeans, a bright red Cincinnati Bearcats T-shirt, and an Army field jacket. He smiled as he noticed the sign on the kid’s backpack, simple cardboard with Sharpie lettering that stated his destination: Ft. Lauderdale, FL. Bradley couldn’t help but remember his own college spring break trips to south Florida, begging money and rides along the way to get there. Too bad this kid wouldn’t get exactly the trip he had planned.
He approached the kid, sizing him up for proper height and overall appearance. The kid watched as he walked up and pointed to the sign. “Need a ride?” Bradley asked. The kid positively beamed. He would be perfect. “Yeah, that’d be great. You going all the way? To Florida, that is. I’m not offering anything but gas money.”
Bradley smiled his warmest smile and said, “I’m going to Florida, but I have to make a side trip to Bowling Green,
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Kentucky. If you can help me with a little something there, I can let you keep your gas money, and maybe even promise you some extra for your trouble. Sound good?”
The kid thought for a moment before agreeing. “Sure. Thanks, um…”
“Alan, just call me Alan.” He extended his hand to the kid, who grasped it firmly and shook it. He released the kid’s hand and started walking toward the car, gesturing for the kid to follow him. “Grab your stuff. Time to go.” Just like shooting fish in a barrel.
v
Terri and Bobby pulled into the gravel driveway in Mount Crawford a little before noon. The green 4Runner was parked next to the house. Terri had called to let Jen know that they were on the way so there would be no risk of surprise. She jumped out of the truck and asked Bobby to secure the vehicle and to come on in when he was ready. She wasn’t even all the way to the side door when she was practically tackled by a joyous and very obviously relieved Jen. “Oh God, Terri. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Terri just held her, letting her cry off some of the tension. She finally let go enough to make eye contact, reaching up to hold Jen’s face with her hands. “Are you okay?”
Jen actually let go of a laugh. “Compared to what? This isn’t exactly my finest hour, you know.”
Terri smiled and dropped her hands, relieved to see that the quirky sense of humor was still intact. “No, I guess it isn’t.”
She stood back, barely getting out of the way before Bobby picked Jen up off the ground and squeezed her hard. He set her down and asked if she was okay.
“Again I say, compared to what? I guess I should feel
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lucky. It’s not every girl who gets to be the target of a homicidal maniac and then very nearly crushed by a huge gay man.”
Terri instantly recognized the false bravado they’d had so many conversations about.
Jen chuckled. “Hey, I made you guys some coffee. So, you want to come in?”
They answered, a mix of “sure” and “thanks.” Jen busied herself around the kitchen getting coffee mug
s from the cabinet. Terri was still watching her with a strange mix of apprehension and arousal, wondering if Jen had actually gone to class in jeans, a button-down shirt, and skater-boy shoes. Since it wasn’t her usual classroom drag, curiosity forced Terri to ask, “Jen, did you go to school today?”
“Yeah, I did. As soon as you called, I dragged myself off the floor over there and threw on something to wear. I was too scared to take a shower, so I opted to take myself out to breakfast at a really busy restaurant and then spent the entire morning around as many people as I could find.”
Terri nodded, completely understanding Jen’s fear of being alone in this situation.
“I mean I know he couldn’t get here that fast, but I just couldn’t stand the thought of being alone, even long enough to shower.”
Terri closed the distance between them to give Jen another hug. “Well, we’re here now.” She angled her head to whisper as she let her hands slide down Jen’s body, slipping them into the back pockets of the blue jeans. “I even brought a shotgun.”
She felt Jen’s body lose some of its tension, melting into the words, and a whisper was returned.
“A big one?”
“Uh-huh…Mossberg 500 Tactical, seven round capacity, long barrel, pump action…” Terri punctuated the last two words with a slight forward motion of her hips.
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“Oh, no, you two,” Bobby said as he walked into the kitchen, waggling his finger with his best “get you, Mary”
invocation. “This is not a booty call. We have work to do.”
Terri backed away, removing her hands from Jen’s pockets, and raised her hands to indicate to him that she was clear.
“Maybe later, after we get everything secure and get the county mounties in place.” He pointed toward Terri specifically and said, “Don’t forget about your leash, Agent McKinnon.”