Not a list of intended victims. Patients. "Wait—think about who we have job-wise. An admin type, a lab tech, and a surgical nurse. What if our victims were operating off a list too? Remember the news a while back about secret wait lists for treatment at VA hospitals around the country? What if our victims had a list of their own, right here in Little Rock? Only this list was not a reflection of the true wait times in central Arkansas, but a list that allows certain patients—patients who can pay for the privilege—to bump to the top? Since we have a surgical nurse in the mix, it may even involve surgeries that were occurring sooner than they otherwise would have."
Joe leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "That would explain the extra money. Most soldiers don't have a lot, especially if they're using the VA system. But some do, or have relatives who do and might be willing to part with it to get their favorite soldier bumped up. Hell, even if the kickbacks were pricey, it'd be cheaper than paying for a civilian surgery. Plus, I've heard some VA waits can pass the year mark, and longer. And that's just to get an initial appointment."
Lou grabbed a bacon muffin and tossed it to his biggest fan—Ruger. "Hell, with waits like that, who wouldn't pay?"
Who, indeed?
Kate drummed her fingers over her notes. "Except we appear to be dealing with a killer motivated by revenge. If so, we should be looking for someone who couldn't pay." Minutes ago, she'd assumed they were searching for a patient who intersected all three victims. If this new preferred-list theory panned out, the killer may have been directly connected to just one. Or at least, one at a time.
If they'd been dealing with a needle in a haystack before, the haystack had just grown to a mountain.
Kate ignored Ruger's request for a third muffin as he turned his puppy-dog brows on her. "It still doesn't explain the stolen blood."
Walker dipped the corner of a scone in his coffee to soften it. "I presume you're referring to the extra vials mentioned in one of your follow-up memos?"
"Yes. I broached the subject with a physician. While so little blood could be used in any of a thousand areas of medical research, the physician also suggested the research might be unauthorized. Hence, the need to take it on the sly."
Then again, those stolen vials only connected to Ian Kusić. The list theory potentially connected all three victims.
So why wouldn't her gut let those vials go? Because of her conversation with Sergeant Fremont? The man was so passionate in his belief that the theft was important, he'd been willing to risk his life to find out more.
Perhaps there wasn't more. At least with regard to the murders.
Kate waited for the BAU agent to swallow his bite of scone before continuing. "Why Braxton? Why dump the bodies on our roads? Kusić lived in our jurisdiction, but the others didn't."
"That could be all there is to the location. The killer may have selected Braxton because he was familiar with the area—his comfort zone, if you will. But it's equally possible that during his reconnaissance on Mr. Kusić, he decided the town's rural nature would better allow him to maneuver unnoticed during the dumps than, say, the outskirts of Little Rock."
It was as she'd told Lou last night, then. The bastard had placed Andrea Silva in line with her father's cross on some warped, impromptu whim. She wasn't the cause.
Thank God.
Her phone rang. Surprise overtook Kate's relief as she read the number on the screen. It belonged to the receptionist from Fort Leaves. The same receptionist who'd called to give her a heads up when Kusić's girlfriend had arrived early for work.
Did she have something new?
Kate excused herself and headed for the living room to keep from disturbing the others. "Deputy Holland. How may I help you?"
"It's Debra Yarbrough. I'm not sure you remember me; I work the desk at Fort Leaves. I hope I didn't wake you. But, well, you said I should call if I thought of something, day or night."
"It's fine, Ms. Yarbrough. I'm up. In fact, I just finished a briefing with my fellow investigators. Have you thought of something that might assist us?"
"Maybe. I— Wow, this is weirder than I thought it'd be. I feel stupid mentioning it now."
Kate let Ruger out the front door, fully aware that she was still trying to make up for his getting trapped in her dad's room.
"Ma'am, whatever you have to say, I won't judge. I promise." With the leads they didn't have, she couldn't afford to.
"Well, you asked if I knew of a connection between Ian Kusić and Jason Dunne."
"And you do?"
"I don't know. I mean— Okay, here it is. A lot of hospitals don't handle the bulk of their own staffing. It's contracted out. I was hired through a company out of Little Rock called Madrigal Medical. They're located downtown, in the Baymont business building. Fourteenth floor. Have you heard of it?"
"Yes."
"Then you've been to their offices?"
"Just the ground floor." Really, only the lobby. Once, almost three years earlier, to let one of the high-rise's security guards know what his teenaged son had done. And, again, after she'd arranged for said son to dig his way out of the hole his grief and stupidity had helped him dig.
"Well, Ian Kusić used Madrigal to get his job too."
"And Jason Dunne?"
"I don't know. But that nurse in the paper this morning? Andrea Silva? I think she may have been hired through Madrigal."
"But you're not certain?"
"Well, I didn't know her. We've never even met, not officially. But I had some paperwork to fill out at Madrigal. I stopped by their offices last Tuesday before work. Andrea Silva was leaving the offices as I arrived. But here's the odd part—when I got back down to the parking lot, she was still there, standing beside a car, arguing with someone."
Kate's interest perked higher as she stepped onto the porch to see if Ruger had finished his job. He hadn't. "This someone, was it a man or a woman?"
"A man."
"Would you recognize him again?"
"Sorry. He had his back to me. But that's why I remembered her when I saw her picture in the paper. She stood out. She was facing me when they were arguing, and I swear she looked like she was trying not to cry. Is that the kind of information that will help you?"
"It might very well be." Of course, it could be nothing. The only way to find out was to investigate. "Thank you, Ms. Yarbrough. Was there anything you wanted to add?"
"No, that's it."
"Then let me thank you again. And please don't hesitate to call if anything else comes to you."
Kate hung up and swiped through her phone's contacts as Ruger finished and bounded up to the porch. Not only did she still have the security guard's number, but when she dialed it, she also discovered that the guard was just coming off the nightshift at the high-rise. And more than willing to hang around to return the favor she'd done for him and his son years earlier.
Kate ended her second call of the morning and opened the door. Ruger followed her inside.
She entered the kitchen in time to catch Agent Walker's offer to file the warrant for access to Fort Leaves' records on behalf of the FBI. If they were lucky, they might be able to use them to determine which patients had crossed their victims' paths. And since the VA and FBI were federal agencies, Walker should be able to hack through the red tape faster than the Braxton PD.
Joe stood. "Meanwhile, I'll track down Kusić's and Dunne's Army records. It appears they connected with the killer after they got out, but we'd better rule out an active-duty link."
Kate nodded. "Sounds good." Since Andrea Silva had never served, she agreed with Joe's assessment. But he was right. It still bore ruling out. "I've got something to check out in Little Rock. It's probably nothing, but since we have so damned little to go on, it's worth a trip. I should be back in a few hours."
Lou polished off his coffee and came to his feet as well. "I'm headed to the station to check on things and brief the rest of the team. Folks will be pourin' in tonight and tomorrow to kick off the task force. We'd best be rea
dy. I'll bring these two with me so they can pick up their car keys. Carole's arrangin' the local transport for everyone. I'll call the governor too and let him know Ed recommends holdin' off on the press conference a bit longer. Kate, Seth should be in by now. I can give him a holler if you're needin' someone to tag team it in the city."
She shook her head. "It's better if he adds another set of eyes to the Little Rock PD search of Silva's place. I'll join him as soon as I can. Until then, I'll be making the rounds of a certain building with a security guard I know. A building that's...not exactly open today."
"Ahh." Lou shot her a wink. "In other words, no witnesses required—or desired."
"Precisely. I'll let you know if it pans out. Also, the woman who just phoned me? She knew the third victim's name. Andrea Silva was ID'd in this morning's paper. If our loose-lipped trooper was still in the mix, I'd suspect him. Since he's not, we have another leak."
Lou scowled as he followed the others into the living room. "I'm on it."
Kate retrieved her 9mm, jacket and backup piece as the men left, then refreshed Ruger's food and water before tweaking his ears and locking him in the house.
Half an hour later, she'd reached Little Rock. She turned her Durango into the lot attached to the high-rise that housed Madrigal Medical and parked beside a cluster of vehicles, surprised to see so many, so early on a Sunday morning. There were no churches or restaurants nearby. Just a block crammed with two other modern high-rises and several shorter, historic office buildings.
Kate exited her Durango and carefully scanned the tread patterns of the other vehicles as she headed for the Baymont's entrance. None were a match to their Starblaze's. Not surprising. There were a lot of tread designs in the world. Not to mention, Ian Kusić and Andrea Silva were potentially linked to Madrigal through employment, not their murders, though she hadn't ruled that out.
Kate entered the Baymont's glass doors. A cropped salt-and-pepper afro and mile-wide grin met her inside, hand already extended for a shake that was pleasantly firm and twice as sincere. "Deputy Holland, it's been a long time. It's good to see you again."
"You too, Mr. Burgess. I'm grateful you're willing to show me around. I hope the delay doesn't affect your weekend."
"Not at all. And I told you on the phone, it's Cal. Anyone willing to cut my kid some slack back when he needed it most, can call on me twenty-four/seven for the rest of my life, and I'll be there."
Good to know. Though, really, Manny Ramos had done most of it. Three years ago, the Braxton storeowner had readily agreed with her. The plate glass window Leon Burgess had shattered following a Braxton/Sacred Heart basketball game had stemmed less from school loyalty and more from the anger and raw grief left behind in the wake of Leon's brother's death.
"How's your son doing?"
If possible, the guard's grin split wider. "Fantastic! We got the call last week. Leon's been accepted to UT. Starting forward. Full scholarship. He wouldn't have gotten either if it weren't for you and Mr. Ramos. We're indebted to you both."
Kate followed as Cal waved her past the bank's shuttered windows and toward the row of elevators that led to the upper floors and assorted offices that made up the remainder of the high-rise. "Nonsense. Leon admitted his mistake and stepped up to make amends. That goes a long way in my book, and in life."
"True. But a lot of folks wouldn't have tried to get past the how, let alone work so hard to ferret out the why."
Perhaps. But she and Manny had. The wily old storeowner had served in 'Nam. As for her, she'd been hooked the moment she'd discovered that Leon's older infantryman brother had been recently killed a mere thirty miles from where Max and the other members of her convoy had been slaughtered.
How could they not give the kid a break? Especially since Leon had worked damned hard to prove it was warranted.
"Well, I'm proud of him. I know I've told him so, as has Manny, but feel free to repeat it. And let him know we'll be watching his games and cheering next year."
"I will."
They'd passed Cal's replacement at the building's main security desk and reached the row of elevators. Cal motioned for her to continue on. Bemused, Kate followed him around the corner and out of sight of the current guard on duty.
Why? "Is something wrong?"
"I don't know." Her suspicion spiked as Cal glanced over his shoulder, double-checking their six to ensure no witnesses lingered behind them. "When you called and asked to see the Madrigal offices, I didn't think taking you up would be an issue."
"And now it is?"
"Yep. I was about to call you. The CEO pulled up ten minutes before you did. That's his dark blue BMW in the first slot. A couple minutes later, he was joined by another man and a younger gal. I think she's the office manager. They were huddled together and chatting something fierce as they crossed the parking lot, then clammed up the second they reached the lobby. Didn't hear a peep from any of them all the way to the elevators and during the wait. I had the feeling they were worried Felix and I might be listening."
Perhaps there was something to the Fort Leaves receptionist's tip after all. Why else would Madrigal's CEO drive to his office—and have others join him—before nine o'clock on a Sunday morning? He had to have read the paper along with the rest of the state.
Then again, why would the head of the entire company know the names of a lowly lab tech and nurse who'd been contracted out?
Kate retrieved her phone and swiped through her stored photos until she'd located the one of Ian Kusić in his Blues. She turned the screen toward the security guard. "Have you seen this man around here?"
The guard nodded.
"You're sure?"
"As sure as the summers here are soul-sucking hot and even more humid. That guy's been through here a half dozen times at least. And that's only what I've seen. Not to brag, Deputy, but I've got an eye for faces. It's a plus in the security business."
That it was. Kate swiped her way to the driver's license photo Seth had texted her of Jason Dunne. "What about him?"
Cal studied Dunne's blond curls and mug for a good ten seconds, then shook his head. "No. And with those freckles, I would've remembered. But keep in mind, I work nights to be home with the kids after school." The guard tapped the photo. "If this guy came though during the day, I wouldn't know."
Cal Burgess was a sharp man. That had been evident when they'd met in this same building nearly three years earlier. He, too, had to have read the papers or seen the news, and he knew she was with the Braxton PD. Yet he didn't press for verification that this entire meeting was about those murders.
She appreciated that.
Kate brought up the DMV photo of Andrea Silva. Again, compliments of Seth's texts. "What about her?"
Cal's nod was immediate and firm. "She'd come in a couple times a month. Usually in the mornings, around six or seven. Last time was a week ago Tuesday. I remember, because I almost called the local boys in blue."
"Why's that?"
"Argument. She came and went fine. But when she crossed into the parking lot upon leaving, an SUV pulled up beside her. I couldn't hear anything because of all the windows, but from her gestures, she was mad about something. Then the driver reaches out and grabs her arm. I started for the doors, but the guy let go and drove off. By the time I made it outside, she'd gotten in her car too, and left."
"Did you get a look at the guy's face?"
"No. The visor shadowed it. I never saw the rear bumper, so I wasn't able to get the plate either. But his SUV was dark green. A foreign job—Land Rover. No idea which edition. Does that help?"
"Perhaps. Just to be sure; she arrived around six?"
"Yep. But that argument was half an hour or so later. After she'd come back down."
So he'd witnessed the same argument as the receptionist from Fort Leaves. But with whom had Andrea Silva argued? Her killer? Could he have been so bold as to accost her outside a high-rise with an armed guard on duty?
Given the amount of time
the killer had risked on arranging those ballsy dump sites—three in one night, no less—it was more than possible.
But what had Andrea Silva been doing here in the first place, especially with such regularity? Kusić, too. If the two had been taking bribes from VA patients, had someone upstairs been in on it?
The CEO? Was he here to conduct damage control?
Kate returned her phone to her pocket. "I'll go up alone. But thank you for the information. If you notice anything unusual regarding anyone from Madrigal, please call me immediately." She gave Cal a fresh card in case he'd tossed the one that included her office and private number. "I'd appreciate you keeping this conversation to yourself."
"You have my word."
That was good enough for her.
She kept pace with the guard long enough to round the corner they'd taken earlier, stopping to punch the main up arrow at the bank of elevators as Cal continued on back to the security desk without her.
A lift pinged within seconds. Kate stepped inside.
Fourteen floors later, the elevator slowed to a stop. She schooled her expression as she exited the lift and followed the signs to Madrigal's suite of offices. If she was lucky, her face would repel the trio inside in a way it hadn't even during her initial meeting with Cal Burgess years before, allowing her to deploy one of the best weapons in a cop's arsenal.
Distraction.
The reception area was larger than she'd expected, glossier. And there was something odd about the logo hanging behind the counter. Kate stepped closer to study the white MM centered amid a sideways oval of red. Before she could put her finger on what bothered her, a sleek brunette in a sleeker emerald dress whispered in from the hall on Kate's left.
"We're closed. You'll have to come back on Mon—"
The rest never materialized as Kate turned to give the woman a full-on view of her unzipped Braxton PD jacket, holstered 9mm and not-so-sleek face.
Kate waited patiently as those expertly thickened lashes widened in horror, and then—nothing. Ms. America's Next Top Model contender couldn't seem to tear her stare from Kate's mutilated cheek long enough to acknowledge the credentials held up beside it.
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