by Robin Mahle
Copeland stared at the man in whom he had placed his confidence. But it was beginning to appear as though that man might bring about his downfall and perhaps had perpetuated the entire scenario as it was currently unfolding. “Why aren’t we going to the station? We agreed this was the best way to defend the accusations.”
“You agreed. Not me,” Vega replied.
“Where are we going, Phil?”
Vega kept his eyes on the road. “This has to stop now, Grant. And I think you know that.”
“What has to stop? Phil, you’re starting to worry me. Where are we going?”
“You’ll recognize it soon enough.” He eyed Copeland. “And don’t bother reaching for your cell. This will all make sense soon enough.”
The next several minutes elapsed in silence. Copeland needed a strategy and a way out of whatever was about to happen. The blinders were off and he now viewed Phil as the enemy, something he wished he had picked up on sooner. Now it might be too late.
“We’re here.” Vega pushed the gearshift into park and looked through the driver’s side window. “She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Who? Who will be out in a minute? Phil, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand what’s happening here. We’re supposed to be working together to get out of this chaos.”
He turned to Copeland. “I asked her to come here.”
“Who?”
Vega only smiled as he returned his attention to the coffee shop that they were now parked in front of. He checked the time on his phone. “Any minute now.” Upon glancing through the window once again, he spotted her. “Right on time.”
Copeland’s face went pale when he saw her. “What is she doing here? What the hell have you done?”
Sue Copeland smiled as she spotted Vega rolling down his window and continued her approach. “So, what’s the rush? Why did you…” Her eyes shifted to Copeland and back to Vega. “Phil, what’s going on?”
“Get in.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Now!”
“Don’t, Sue. Just go. Run.”
“Get in the goddam car, Sue.”
She looked at her husband and opened the rear passenger door. A final moment of reluctance before she slid into the backseat. “What’s going on, Grant?”
“It’s time you learned the truth about your husband. I’m going to show you the kind of man you married.”
“You realize by not showing up at the station, Phelps is going to get nervous,” Copeland began. “They’re going to come after us, Phil. Are you sure this is how you want to do this?”
“You left me with no choice. This is all on you.”
As they drove through the streets of D.C., heading somewhere neither of the Copelands knew, Sue reached for the handle on her door. She looked to Grant, who must’ve felt her stare and turned back. When he shook his head, almost imperceptibly, she released the handle and closed her eyes.
“Phil, you have to take us to the station. Clear up whatever this is because it looks bad. You understand that, right?”
“Don’t worry, Grant. We’re almost there.”
Kate spotted the Copeland house ahead. “I think that’s it there.”
“Okay,” Dwight said. “I don’t see any cars on the drive. Maybe Phelps’ officer hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Or he did and discovered no one was here. We’ll just have to see for ourselves if Sue Copeland is home,” Kate replied.
“And if she knows where her husband is.” Vasquez turned to Quinn, who was also in the backseat. “I hope your theory is right. If not, we’re losing ground on Vega and the congressman.”
Quinn stepped out and joined the others on the sidewalk. “Agent Jameson, after you.”
Dwight took the lead and started toward the front entrance. The late afternoon sun was behind the house and cast a shadow on the entry, making it difficult to see any movement inside through the sheer curtains. He rang the bell.
While they waited, Kate’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket. “Reid here.”
“It’s Phelps. We know where the fabric came from. The remnants left on scene all came from the same place. Detective Ramos in Baltimore said he was trying to get hold of your Agent Pearson to let him know but couldn’t reach him, so he called me.”
“Where did it come from?” Kate asked.
“The Regent Hotel near DuPont Circle. I’m heading down there now. Where are you?”
“Following a lead on Mrs. Copeland.”
“What lead?”
“We found a picture of her—just her—in Vega’s bedroom. We don’t know the extent, if any, of her involvement, or if she’s a target, but we’re checking it out.”
“Got it. If she’s there, take her to the station, then meet me at the hotel as soon as you can. I’ll head that way shortly.”
After Phelps ended the call, Kate felt as though he was finally willing to work with her. It was entirely possible this was due to the fact that whatever deal he’d struck with Copeland had all but incinerated the moment he didn’t show up at the station this morning. Kate knew this was Phelps covering his own ass, but if it meant some sort of cooperation on his part, she wouldn’t reject it.
“Doesn’t appear anyone’s home,” Dwight said. “We don’t have a warrant and could be treading on some dangerous ground if we get in without one. This is still the home of a United States congressman.”
“That was Phelps. They got a match on the fabric found on the victims and its origins. It came from the Regent Hotel.”
“That’s not far from here,” Dwight replied.
“No. He’s heading there soon. We can’t be sure if Mrs. Copeland is safe, but she’s not here. Do we get PD to issue a BOLO?”
“I think that’s wise. In the meantime, we can be at the hotel in a matter of minutes. I say we head there now. Could be surveillance footage that’ll confirm our suspicions. I’m surprised Phelps volunteered this information. I thought you were convinced he was an asshole.”
“He is an asshole. But now he’s an asshole who’s trying to save his job. I know he was helping Copeland and I won’t let that go.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
Vasquez turned to Quinn. “She’s determined. Right or wrong, that’s who she is.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
Phelps stood outside the hotel beneath the porte-cochere as Kate pulled up. He meandered toward them and opened her door. “‘Bout time you all got here. Any luck at the Copeland house?”
“No one was home.” Kate stepped out as the others joined her. “What’d you find out?”
“Come see for yourself.” Phelps made his way inside and headed toward the front desk. “Can I speak to your manager again?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call him up now,” the woman replied.
Phelps turned his attention to the team. “So I had the manager search his system for if and when Copeland might have checked in.”
“And?” Kate asked.
“He did. Several times in the past year.”
“Okay. I get that would raise eyebrows, but congressmen travel, stay in hotels, and attend late dinners where it would easily explain why he would have been here,” Quinn said.
“You’re right. But like I told Reid, the fabric found in the victims’ mouths came from this place. The bedsheets. So, you tell me, professor, you think that’s a coincidence?”
The manager approached. “Detective Phelps. I see the rest of your team have arrived. If you’ll all follow me. I’d like to keep this discreet, as I’m sure you can understand.”
“Of course,” Kate added.
“Mr. Copeland, or rather whatever name he had chosen to check in under, always requested this room. I knew it was him because I recognized him. Never said anything, though. Not my business. There are plenty of things I see around here and I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut.” The manager retrieved his key to open the hotel room door.
“And when d
id he last check in?”
“About two weeks ago.”
Kate looked to Vasquez. “Around the time Janine Atherton was killed.” She continued inside. “Thank you. We’ll let you know when we’ve finished searching the room.”
“Of course.” The manager left them to do their job.
“Phelps, you have the forensics report in hand?” Kate asked.
He retrieved his cell. “It’s on my phone. Here. Take a look. The images match these bedsheets. At least in part. Most of the fabric was covered in the victim’s blood, but as you can see here and here, the sheen and the cream color appear to match. And, according to the client list Sunburst Chemicals provided Baltimore, this hotel is their largest account.” Phelps pulled down the covers to expose the sheets on the bed. “And the timing works out.”
“Did you ask the manager if the cleaners noticed any damage to the bedding? Did they have to replace the sheets from this room in the recent past?”
“I haven’t asked him much yet. Was waiting on you people to get here. This is your investigation, if I recall.” He eyed Kate. “I thought you’d want to run it.”
She dismissed his backhanded comment. “We should get a statement from whoever noted the damage. When and how bad it was. And of course, on what day. What about any surveillance?”
“They won’t have any inside the rooms,” Dwight said. “Halls, elevators, restaurant. That’s about it.”
“Right. We should get the footage from the days that Copeland was here. Someone could’ve followed him and also waited for Atherton. And, we find him with any of the victims, we’ve got not only him, but we can try to identify other potential targets.”
“When you say we’ve got him, that only means he was cheating on his wife, not that he killed those women,” Quinn added. “As you’ve said, Phillip Vega is your number one suspect. I think we need to be on the lookout for footage of him.”
“What about the woman in the abandoned building, Wendy Montrose?” Vasquez looked to Phelps. “What’s going on there?”
“They transferred the body to the ME’s office. I haven’t been down there to see it yet.”
“I should stay here and review CCTV footage,” Vasquez continued. “Detective, you should go to the ME’s office. And wasn’t there a thumbprint? Your people might’ve gotten a hit.”
“I’ll go,” Kate said. “Quinn can come with me, if that’s all right with you, Agent Jameson. Then Phelps can focus on the prints from forensics and you and Vasquez can stay here.”
“Fine by me. Detective?”
“Got no problem with splitting up. We should cover all our bases right now. If it turns out that the print belongs to Vega or Copeland, it’s best we find out now and continue to track them down.”
Kate eyed Phelps once again. “And Mrs. Copeland. She’s still missing.”
22
Dusk had begun to creep over the horizon when they arrived at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. Kate pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. “Thanks for coming with me and for earlier today. I know you’ve got other things on your plate right now, but I appreciate your willingness to help.”
“This case is far more pressing than anything I’m working on at the moment. I want to help. And, I prefer to see my candidates in action.”
“So I’m being graded?”
“Sort of.” Quinn opened the door. “You ready?”
“Absolutely.” Kate stepped out and headed toward the entrance. “I hope to hell we find something useful. With Copeland and Vega on the run, it’s hard to say who’s holding who hostage.”
Quinn approached her. “Could be neither.”
Kate pushed inside and approached the desk. “Dr. Carr, please. He’s expecting us.” She held out her badge. “FBI Agent Reid and this is Special Agent Quinn.”
The man pressed a button and a buzzer sounded on the door behind them. “Go on through.”
The two entered the sterile corridor and Kate began, “Tell me, do you miss the daily grind of being in the field?”
“Sometimes. I do get out every now and again. Case in point. So it’s not like we’re all stuck behind desks. It’s just not quite the same as it is for you. Why? Do you think you’ll miss field work?”
“Yes. Sometimes. But then Agent Scarborough says working behind the scenes has been somewhat liberating for him. Although he’d been in the field far longer than I and had seen far worse.”
Quinn stopped her in the hall just before they were about to enter the autopsy room. “I understand he saved your life.”
“Yes. He and another colleague.” She wouldn’t reveal the identity of that person. Quinn was still an unknown.
“I’m sorry to hear your life had been in danger but grateful you had help. Please don’t take offense when I say that one of my biggest concerns in bringing you on board is knowing your personal relationship with my boss. And that he would ultimately still be your boss too.”
“I understand and it’s nothing I haven’t been faced with before. ASAC Campbell had those very concerns, but eventually, he came to understand that I’m my own person. I’ve carried my own weight and have never needed to lean on Agent Scarborough.” Kate regarded him. “But you’re still not convinced? What do I have to do to prove to you that Nick Scarborough isn’t pulling my strings? That I’m not riding on his coat tails. In fact, I would prefer, if you still hold reservation, that I withdraw from the running. Frankly, I don’t want Agent Scarborough’s reputation sullied nor do I want to see my own reputation, which I have worked exceedingly hard to build, be questioned.”
Quinn nodded. “Let’s go inside.”
Kate had no idea if she’d won the argument or raised more questions in his mind. And right now, maybe none of that was important. She was doing just fine with Dwight and Alicia by her side, on her team. Perhaps she’d placed too much import on this position. She’d experienced a freedom she hadn’t known before Nick’s departure from the WFO. And there was no denying it felt good. Kate would not be the subject of water-cooler conversations. It had taken her too long to dispel those very same conversations when she’d first come to the Bureau. Listening to everyone assume she was only there because Nick wanted it. Campbell had finally put those rumors to rest and to face that again—well, it just wasn’t something Kate was prepared to do.
“Good afternoon, Agent Reid, or is it evening?” Dr. Carr offered his hand.
“Quickly approaching evening, I believe.” She returned his greeting. “Thanks for sticking around. This is Agent Quinn, BAU Headquarters.”
“Headquarters? Don’t see you guys around here often. Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here, doctor. No. We aren’t often out and about like our friends at the Washington Field Office. So tell me, have you found anything that might help us catch the person who killed this woman?”
The doctor stepped around the table where the young woman lay covered in a white sheet with only her head and neck exposed. The bullet hole in her forehead had been cleaned and the skin around it purple from the blood trapped between her skin and her skull. He reached for an evidence bag. “This is the fabric that was discovered in the victim’s mouth.”
“Same as the others,” Kate added.
“It appears so. It’s going out shortly for analysis. But as I understand it, you have information on its origins.”
“We do, but confirmation will still be necessary on this one,” Kate replied.
He returned his attention to the body. “I was able to retrieve bullet fragments in the victim, which I believe is the first time something was left behind.”
“There were casings found at the scene of the previous victim,” Kate began. “But to my knowledge, the trace isn’t yet complete. Unfortunately, these victims are appearing faster than we can get our test results. Which is one of the reasons why we’re here now. I’m afraid our time has run out. We now have a potential hostage situation.”
“I see. I’m very sorry to hear that.
”
“Any signs of a struggle? Similar to our last victim with skin under her nails?” she continued.
“Doesn’t appear to have been a struggle. More like the victim was caught off guard and simply murdered where she stood. There is still the issue of the thumbprint.” He raised the woman’s shoulder. “It’s only partial, but it is my understanding that it may be enough.”
“Detective Phelps is checking on that as we speak.” Kate moved closer to the body. “We have to find something tying her to Congressman Copeland or his staff. I’m sure you’ve been reading the papers.”
“I try hard not to, but this one does seem to be all-consuming at the moment. And that the congressman is at the heart of the matter.”
Quinn moved next to Kate. “If we don’t find him soon, I fear we won’t find him at all.”
Sue Copeland stood inside the living room. “What is this place?”
“You should ask your husband. He’s very familiar with it.” Vega turned to Copeland in anticipation of a response.
“Grant?”
“It’s my apartment.”
“Your apartment? What are you talking about?”
“He’s telling you this is the place where he brought his women, most of the time. Sometimes they stayed in hotels, sometimes they came here, depending on what was most convenient, I imagine.”
“How did you get the money for this place? I don’t understand.”
“You want to tell her, or should I?”
Copeland regarded Vega with growing anger. “Donations. I used some campaign donations from my last election.”
“Oh my God.”
Vega approached her. “This isn’t the man you married, Sue. He’s been cheating on you for years. He bought this place. You have no idea what he has become. And I’m here to show you.”
“For God’s sake, you think I didn’t know what he was up to? Not about this place, but about the other women? You think I’m a complete fool? Jesus, Phil, what the hell have you done?”