by Robin Mahle
“Another mile. You won’t find any luxury resorts where we’re going. The hardest hit areas were the neighborhoods that already struggle to find fresh water from the community wells. Most of the homes had already suffered damage from previous storms and had yet to be repaired. Those were the ones who failed to withstand Florence’s wrath.”
Bishop had grown tired of listening to this woman speak of the plight of the locals and bided his time until they finally arrived.
She pulled the Jeep to a stop as close to the command station as possible. “We are here, Dr. Parnell. I will show you inside and leave you to do your best to help.”
He followed her to the tent. This was what he had been waiting for. When she approached one of the doctors, he interrupted and made the introduction for himself. “Dr. Parnell. I’m here to help in whatever way I can.”
“Perfect.” The doctor looked to the Red Cross volunteer. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you brought him here.”
“My pleasure, but I must get back.” She turned to Bishop. “Dr. Parnell, these fine men will see to it your skills are put to use. Good luck.”
Bishop nodded and when she disappeared, he began. “Where do you need me?”
“Have you worked in an ER, Dr. Parnell?” The man asked.
“I have.”
“Good. Then I’ll take you to the triage tent where they are bringing in victims of the building collapse that occurred late last night. Many were trapped.”
“The storm ended two days ago,” Bishop said.
“Yes, but the building was in desperate need of repairs as it was, and the people stayed when they were asked to leave. When you have no place else to go, what choice is there, really? Around 2am, the stress had become too great and the dwelling fell. Many are still missing.” He walked inside. “Here we are. Dr. Rami, this is Dr. Parnell. He is at your disposal.”
“Dr. Parnell. Good. We’re shorthanded.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” The doctor left.
The tent teemed with injured people and as Bishop gazed around, he spotted only three doctors. It was exactly as he needed it to be. “Where should I start?”
The door of the tent flew open with two men carrying a middle-aged woman on a stretcher. “We need help!” one of the men shouted.
Dr. Rami pointed to them. “Dr. Parnell, you should start there.”
Bishop hustled toward the men. “Let’s bring her over here.” He led the way to an empty gurney and examined her. “Lacerations to the extremities, facial contusions.” He used scissors to cut open her right pant leg. “Crushed femur.” He looked at the men. “I got it from here. Thank you.”
When they left, Bishop watched the other doctors tend to several other patients in the tent. He was free to do as he wished and cast his sights to the injured woman.
Her eyes captured his. They welled with tears that fell and stained her grimy cheeks. “Please help me.”
Bishop smiled warmly and placed his hand on her head, smoothing down her hair. “Of course, I will. What’s your name?”
“Jacinda Wells.”
“Jacinda, I’m going to have to run some tests first. Okay? How about I start you on some pain medicine to ease your suffering?”
She smiled and nodded. “Thank you. Thank you, Doctor.”
“That’s why I’m here, Jacinda. I’m always here to help.” Bishop placed latex gloves on his hands and prepared her for an IV mainline. A small metal table lay next to the gurney and contained the necessary equipment to start the fluids. “You’re going to feel a pinch.” He slid the needle into the back of her hand and watched her wince in pain. A tingle shot up his spine as he peered at her. “There you go. All set.”
Bishop kept an eye on the doctors around him before he looked at Jacinda again. “I’m going to give you something for the pain now.”
“Yes, please. I need something now,” she replied.
He leaned in to within inches of her face. “I’m sorry. What was that you said?”
“Medicine for the pain. Please, Doctor.” Tears shed down her face as she winced once again.
“Of course. I’m here to help you. I can see how much you’re suffering, and I want to end that suffering for you.” He wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “Do you want me to help you, Jacinda?”
She creased her brow in confusion. “Yes, doctor. Please.” She moaned. “Please give me the medicine. I beg you. I am in such pain.”
Bishop studied her. “I know. I know it hurts. I can make it stop.”
Dr. Rami approached from behind. “What is the status of your patient, Dr. Parnell?”
Bishop spun around. “I was just about to administer pain medication, then draw blood for testing before I dress the superficial wounds.”
“Good. I want you to get her on a truck to transport to the nearest hospital. I can see she will need x-rays at the very least.” Dr. Rami continued making the rounds to the other doctors.
Bishop had gotten lucky and couldn’t afford to waste any more time. “Well, that was close, wasn’t it, Jacinda?”
Her eyes widened with fear. “Wait. Wait. Please…” She turned her head in search of the other doctor and as she was about to speak, she shot back at Bishop as he squeezed her hand.
“Shhh… They’re all very busy. It’s best not to disturb them while they’re helping other patients. You’re my patient, Jacinda and I’m here to help.” Bishop inserted a needle into the mainline IV drip. “There you go. You’ll be all better in just a minute. I promise.”
The woman began to convulse, and Bishop held her down. It wouldn’t last long but he scanned the area for anyone who might take notice. No one had. “Relax, Jacinda. I know what’s best for you. I’m your doctor.” He placed his fingers on her carotid artery to check her pulse. He knew that if he pressed hard enough, he could induce a blackout, which would silence her more quickly, yet look as though he had done nothing wrong.
He kept his fingers in her neck, pressing hard, and watched her eyes widen with the knowledge that she knew he was about to kill her. She continued to twitch. He smiled and waited. The only part that mattered was when they understood what was happening. That he had complete control of their lives and he could extinguish them in a heartbeat.
Jacinda stopped twitching. Her pulse slowed, her eyes fluttered closed and she lost consciousness.
Bishop waited until the last beat. Ten seconds passed, twenty. One minute. Nothing. He turned back and wore fear on his face. “No pulse! I’m losing her! Dr. Rami, please help!”
The doctor rushed to his side. “What happened?” He grabbed Jacinda’s wrist to check for a pulse.
“She must’ve had internal bleeding. I don’t know. I did everything by the book.”
“Damn it.” Rami looked back. “I need a crash cart over here!”
Bishop knew it was too late. The poison had done its job and no resuscitation efforts would work. He would stand back and allow Rami to take the appropriate measures. But his job was done.
12
Noah Quinn’s office had remained exactly as it was the day he left. There were no family pictures on his desk. Quinn wasn’t married and didn’t have any children. Kate never even knew if he had brothers or sisters. Maybe he had been an uncle. She would never know because she would do everything in her power to stay as far away from him as possible, unless of course, duty called, and she was forced to partner with him. Although that scenario seemed improbable.
She stood in his office and looked at his desk with only the Bureau-issued laptop resting on it. A small meeting table in the center of the room. A dry-erase board on an easel at the back. And lastly, file cabinets that held case files. Recent ones only. Cases older than two years were sent into archive.
Everything was in position for the next Noah Quinn, whoever that might be. For now, though, Kate went inside this office for one reason; to remind herself that someday it would be hers. No matter what had happened and how Quinn had forced her to question her
self, she knew she was better. Fisher had made it clear last night as they drove to the restaurant that it was protocol to fill the position. She understood that and wondered who it might be sitting in that chair. Would that person be able to look beyond her storied past and look only at her record? More importantly, would she be able to learn something from this unknown person?
To think of Fisher’s current prospects, it was too difficult to answer that question. Mitch Palmero seemed like a decent guy. Jonathan Surrey was a little more of an enigma. She hadn’t spent much time with him at the Denver office, but he was apparently impressed with her work.
Kate could ponder the question all day, but there were leads to run on to find her Mercy Killer. She turned to leave and noticed Walsh approach. “Hey, Levi.”
“Morning. Were you just in Quinn’s office?” he asked.
“I was. Just taking stock. Listen, I wanted to get into this National Registry system with you if you have a minute. I’d like to trace Theodore Bishop back to medical school and start pulling some records. I have a feeling, if this is our guy, he’ll have a few stains on his history to answer for.”
“Agreed. I finally got a call back from the Baltimore EMS supervisor, Ray Zimmerman.”
“Oh yeah? What did he have to say?” Kate asked.
“Not enough. Walk with me.” Walsh continued into the hall and toward his office. “He said Bishop was let go because of budget cuts.”
“Budget cuts?” Kate followed him inside.
“Yes, ma’am.” Walsh sat down and gestured for Kate to do the same. “I asked him if he had any concerns about Bishop, considering he was named in the wrongful death suit.”
“And what did he have to say about that?” she pressed on.
“Get this. He said he hadn’t read the entire suit and hadn’t realized Bishop had been named in it.”
“If that doesn’t sound suspicious…” Kate added.
“Tell me about it. I think the guy’s trying to cover his ass. He must suspect Bishop had a hand in the wrongful death and didn’t want to look like he was admitting to anything. He said if I needed any more information on Bishop that it was best to contact the city’s lawyer about the case.”
“So we aren’t getting any cooperation from him?” Kate asked.
“Not an ounce.” Walsh pulled up to the edge of the desk. “But we have the National Registry, and your idea of getting in there and finding some history on Bishop—that’s what we need to be doing. Not only will the registry tell us where he’s working now, assuming he is, but we’ll be able to access previous employment records.”
“I’d like to pull med school records too,” Kate said.
“Good. Then it looks like we’ll have our hands full today. I’ll look at employment, you can find his medical school files.”
“You got it.” Kate began to leave.
“Oh, hey, have you heard from Scarborough?” Walsh asked.
“We talked briefly last night. It was late and he was pretty tired. He said he’d contact me after getting with the Riverside field agent and their prospective witness.”
“Good. Maybe I’ll touch base with Palmero and see how he’s coming along on his end.”
“What do you think about him, by the way?” Kate asked.
Walsh shrugged. “I don’t know him that well. Why?”
“Fisher mentioned he’d like to include him as a prospective candidate for Quinn’s post,” she replied.
“Really? I didn’t know he had the appropriate background.”
“Neither did I.” She started ahead. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
From the confines of her office, Kate pressed on in the search for anything related to Theodore Bishop. Her biggest fear in doing this was that he wasn’t the guy. She’d weaved the thinnest of threads between the Baltimore EMS wrongful death suit to the Oakview murders and the Riverside murders. All of which had nothing more in common than occurring around the same time frame. Until they got their witnesses in front of sketch artists, there was zero connection of Theodore Bishop to either of those events outside of the lawsuit. Now Kate was trying to pin multiple deaths by poisoning and various other methods to a guy who might’ve just been piss poor at his job and someone died as a result.
Nick and Eva had flown over a thousand miles away to run down a lead. Agent Palmero returned to Houston to talk to a doctor who thought he remembered a guy with the victim.
It was all circumstantial and it had all been Kate’s idea. The worst part was that Nick had backed her up. When he did that, Fisher agreed because he didn’t want to appear biased against the former boss.
It was up to Kate now to find something against Theodore Bishop that would make the connection tangible. With help from the medical licensing department, she’d discovered Bishop was first licensed in Providence.
“Hello, yes, I’m FBI Special Agent Kate Reid. I’m conducting a background check on a Dr. Theodore Bishop.”
“How can I help with that, Agent Reid?” The man on the line asked.
“I understand he attended medical school there in Providence. It would be very helpful if I could speak to the school directly as it relates to Dr. Bishop.”
“Let me see here.” Typing could be heard through the phone. “Yes, he did attend Fieldbrook Medical School and I can give you the number to the Dean of Admissions.”
“That would be great, thank you.” Kate grabbed a pen and paper. “Whenever you’re ready.” She listened as he relayed the number and jotted it down. “I appreciate your cooperation.” Kate ended the call and headed toward Fisher’s office. She spotted him at his desk and began, “I don’t suppose you can pull some strings for me?”
Fisher looked up from his computer. “That depends. What do you need?”
“A warrant.” Kate walked in. “I need the med school records on Theodore Bishop and I can’t get them without one.”
“That is a fact.” Fisher shook free a toothpick from the box on his desk and placed it between his lips. “You sure you don’t want to wait to see what Scarborough and Duncan come up with on a composite drawing? Palmero’s expecting one too. You’ll know if we’re dealing with the same unsub.”
She dropped into the chair across for him. “I did think about that.”
“I appreciate you wanting to nail down this unsub, but if you jump through hoops now and it turns out to have been for nothing, we’ll have burned favors. We always need favors, Reid,” Fisher replied.
“Then what do you suggest? I hate waiting. You’ve probably figured that out about me already.”
“I have. But look, our team is working on this. You have to let them do their thing.”
“It’s just if Walsh is able to discover where Bishop’s working, I want to get to him before he knows we’re looking,” she added.
Fisher studied her. “If I was sitting here talking to Quinn, he’d have already gotten the warrant. He wouldn’t have asked Scarborough.”
“He wasn’t the type to ask for permission. I’m not him. I trust in the process. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been known to sidestep a time or two, but I want to be better. I know I can’t behave like I’m running a one-woman show. I’ve done that and have learned my lesson. What I’m asking is, do you trust me enough to believe that I’m right about Bishop?”
“Trust has nothing to do with it. I trust you with my life. I also know that Scarborough gave you a long leash. No offense.”
“None taken. In all fairness, he did that because I am usually right.”
Fisher smiled. “Now you’re starting to sound like Quinn.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t…”
“Don’t be sorry. When you ask for something, you need to be all-in. Don’t waver. If you do, I’ll see that you doubt yourself. I need you to be the type of agent who doesn’t doubt herself. Ever. That doesn’t mean you won’t be wrong sometimes. That happens to the best of us.” He sat up and pulled out the toothpick, aiming it at her. “I want you to come in here, tell
me what you want to do and why. Stick to your guns, Reid. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently.” He sighed. “I’ll make the call and get the warrant. But you better be right about this man. It’ll cost you if you’re not.”
Kate stood. “I’m right. I might not have been sure when I walked in here, but I am now. Thank you.” She turned to leave.
“Do me a favor?” He asked and waited for her to turn back. “Remember who you are and don’t second guess yourself.”
“I won’t.” Kate left his office, confident in the direction she wanted to take. Running things by Nick for his approval was now a thing of the past. She’d always depended on him to restrain her actions or dissuade her, or just simply to get his endorsement. She had needed Nick’s approval and it was the very thing Nick, himself, had warned her about years ago with Marshall. The conversation they’d had was so clear to her again.
“I saw how you looked at Avery back there. Seeking his approval; wondering if he thought it was a good idea for you to come along with me this morning. Now I’m not saying that’s what he expects. My guess is, he doesn’t. But that’s how you are when you’re around him.”
Fisher was telling her that same thing. Why hadn’t she seen it before now, or more importantly, why hadn’t Nick seen it? Kate knew the answer to that. When she’d fallen in love with Nick, she fell into the same pattern as she had with Marshall. He let her because he thought it meant keeping her safe. Safe from her own decisions, apparently.
Kate walked back to her office understanding that if she ever wanted to occupy Quinn’s old office, that pattern had to be broken. It wasn’t Nick’s fault any more than it had been Marshall’s fault. They did what men do, which was great unless you also happen to work for those men. It was up to her to decide what she wanted more. The job or Nick Scarborough.
The Riverside field agent, Miles Denton, ended his call and looked across his desk at the two BAU agents who had recently arrived. “He’s here.”