by Robin Mahle
The senior agents eyed one another and Fisher appeared to concede to the new man in charge. “I’ll let you make that call, Scarborough. Our resources are currently being underutilized. And I don’t see that changing unless we get a confession from the Floyds, or we get labs back. According to Ness, it doesn’t appear that will happen for another day or two on what we found in their home.”
Nick considered the proposal. “We’ve got nothing to lose by searching for a connection among the victims. Just like in any other investigation, that could be key to finding answers. I say we start now.”
Cameron Fisher was meticulous, bordering on pathological, in his approach to an investigation. But this case was different. No one had yet looked for the bond that tied all these victims together. There simply hadn’t been time when all they’d done was find dead bodies and drug dealers. And in his typically New York way, he nudged Kate at the end of the meeting. “You got a good head on you, Reid. We’ve got our marching orders. I’ll head out with Duncan and talk to Joanne Waverly’s mom.”
“Thank you, sir.” He still outranked her and she was nothing if not respectful. “I appreciate that.”
“Save the ‘sirs’ for Quinn and Scarborough. We’ll be in touch.” He caught up with Duncan and both disappeared beyond the doors of the station house.
Fisher unlocked the driver’s side door and stepped into the SUV. Duncan hopped into the passenger seat. As they drove toward the center of town, to a small apartment building, Fisher began, “Reid seems to be doing well in the field.”
“She hasn’t been away from it long enough to lose her touch, I guess. So now that we’ve had practical experience with her and the new boss, what are your thoughts?” Duncan asked.
“I’ll be the first to admit, so far, so good. Reid’s finding her stride. I like her personality. She’s a team player.”
“And Scarborough?”
“You know, I was hesitant. Especially when he championed Reid to be brought onto the team.”
“Well, I don’t know if ‘championed’ is the right word. It was she who wanted to apprentice under Quinn,” Duncan replied.
“Anyway, I think he’ll do right by us. Cole wouldn’t have left us with someone who couldn’t handle the way we do things.” Fisher turned to her. “And you?”
“Scarborough’s all right. And I like Reid. She’s smart. Talented. I think she’ll do well.” She laughed a little. “Hell, maybe it’s Quinn who should watch out.”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “I think this is it up ahead.” He pulled into the parking lot that fronted the building. “Building 2, apartment 104. Suppose that’s the bottom floor?”
“That’d be my guess.”
They exited the vehicle and headed toward the unit, which was on the first floor not far from where they parked.
“I spoke with the mother. Seems like she’ll cooperate,” Duncan said.
“I hope so. Whatever we get out of this little expedition may not amount to much, but it could mean everything.” He knocked on the door. “Mrs. Waverly, It’s FBI Agents Fisher and Duncan.”
“Ma’am, we spoke on the phone?” Duncan added.
Within a moment, the door opened and a woman appeared. She was young. Younger than they’d expected. She must’ve been only a teenager when her daughter was born. “Please, come in. You’ll have to excuse the place. I work two jobs and don’t have much time for cleaning.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Waverly. Thank you for seeing us.” Duncan walked inside. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions about your daughter, Joanne.”
“Sure. Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No thank you, ma’am,” Fisher replied and sat next to Duncan. “As you know, we’re here investigating the deaths of not only your daughter, but several other victims in the community.”
“I was there at the meeting. And I’ve kept in close contact with Chief Tate. I know what’s going on. But unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you do.”
Duncan peered down, looking almost embarrassed.
“No disrespect. It’s just with all the money the FBI has, sure seems like y’all might’ve been able to find my daughter’s killer by now. Hell, you won’t even let me bury her.”
“We absolutely understand how you feel, Mrs. Waverly. But if we could just ask you some questions,” Fisher continued. “Can you tell us if your daughter knew Jenny Floyd?”
“Lynn and John’s girl?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, sure she did. They went to school together. I mean, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but I reckon it was Jenny who got my Joanne hooked on the pills. Of course, she started using heroin as of late because the Oxy was getting tougher to find.”
“So you were aware of your daughter’s addiction?” Fisher asked.
“Course I was. What, you think I didn’t try to do nothing to stop it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Fisher rolled the toothpick over his tongue; a habit that worsened when tensions grew. “Ma’am, we’re trying to find your daughter’s killer. Can you give us a list of names of people she hung around and where you think she might’ve obtained the drugs? Even the heroin. Any information you can give us will be helpful.”
“He misses working with you.” Quinn sat in the passenger seat while Kate drove to the family of Tommy Conroy. “You could see he was disappointed he wasn’t coming with us.”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t see that. He’s got plenty on his plate keeping the chief at bay and coordinating with Ness. And he was confident that his team could get the job done.”
Quinn conceded. “My mistake. You know, there’s no need to get defensive every time someone mentions Scarborough’s name.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “So, what do we know about this family?”
“Not much other than it appears they didn’t see their son often. He didn’t live with them. So I’m not sure how much help they’re going to be.”
“Maybe we should find a friend or two who can help?”
“Might be worth a shot. We’re here now anyway. Might as well see if they can give us anything.” Kate began to open her car door when Quinn placed his hand on her arm to stop her.
“Just so you know, after working with you on your last case and now this one, I wasn’t wrong to bring you on board. So just remember that you did earn your spot, regardless of what anyone else thinks.”
She stepped out. “I sure hope they all think I earned it.” Kate led the way to the door of the modest home. It was the nicest one in the neighborhood, but unfortunately, that didn’t say much. The area was run-down like much of the rest of Crown Pointe.
Kate knocked on the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Conroy? It’s Agent Reid and Agent Quinn. We spoke to you earlier.”
The door opened almost immediately. A man who appeared to be in his fifties, rotund, but handsome, spoke. “Thank you for coming. Please come on in. I’ve got some iced tea, if you’d like.”
Kate suddenly remembered the last time she accepted tea from one of the people in this town. “Thank you, but I’m all right. We won’t take up much of your time.”
“Have it your way. As I said, come on in and take a seat. The missus will be down in a minute. I called her back from work. I took off early too. We’re hoping you had some news about our son.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Conroy. We are here about your son, but I’m afraid we only have questions, no answers just yet,” Quinn replied.
“I see.” His face masked in disappointment. “Well then, I’ll do my best to answer your questions, though we’ve already talked to the chief.”
“I know, sir, and we appreciate your cooperation.” Kate caught sight of Mrs. Conroy walking down the stairs and waited for her to join them. “Mrs. Conroy, thank you for taking the time.”
“It’s all right. Anything we can do to help.”
Kate noticed she was distraught over the loss of her son, the pain of the fresh wound still wide open. �
��I’m very sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what this must like for you. Which is why we’re working non-stop to find the person responsible.” She cleared her throat and eyed Quinn before beginning. “We were hoping you might be able to tell us a little about your son’s friends. Who he hung out with, aside from Joanne Waverly. And whether he knew Jenny Floyd.”
The parents turned to each other and the mother turned back to Kate. “Well, sure he did. Everyone knew Jenny Floyd. The girl was one of the most popular kids in school. Cheerleader. Smart kid too. She could’ve been…” The mother trailed off. “Anyway, yes, he knew her.”
“Did they hang out together often?”
“Not that I’m aware of. He fancied her; everyone did. But no, I don’t think they palled around after school or nothing. And of course, Tommy quit school and that’s when all the trouble started happening. But he was a good boy. Just got involved in that garbage like most of the people in this God forsaken town.” She reached for her husband’s hand.
“Do you know where he usually got his supply from? And maybe when you think his addiction started?”
“Well, I could think of a few names of who might’ve sold him the drugs. Unfortunately, a lot of people around here do, but I got his cell phone still. I can look inside there.”
“You have his cell?” Kate looked at Quinn with some surprise. “I didn’t think he had one. It wasn’t on him when…”
“No. It wasn’t. His daddy and me took over the payments for him a couple months ago, and well, we knew he was getting desperate for money and so not too long before he passed, we sorta took it from him.”
“How long before did you take it?” Quinn asked.
“A couple days. A week, maybe. We knew he was gonna sell it and so just thought it best to hang on to it till he got past the worst of it.” She began to cry. “But he never did, as it happens.”
“Mrs. Conroy,” Kate pressed on. “Could we take the phone with us and go through it? It could be a huge help to see who he’d been talking to and when. That is, if you know how to get into it.” Kate began to lose hope, knowing how difficult it was to get into a smart phone. In fact, it was near impossible.
“As it turns out, we do know his passcode. The boy was loving, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. His code was his birthday. I’ll go get it for you.”
Kate and Quinn looked at one another with resolve, knowing what this could mean.
“Well done, Agent Reid.”
18
The station house was teeming with Federal agents, local cops, and now a lawyer. Never had so many law enforcement officials gathered in the small community where the worst things that happened were drug overdoses. Chief Tate appeared lost, as though he no longer had a place in his own investigation.
Agent Ness had arrived and now the Floyds’ attorney. He was a local accident and injury lawyer who moonlighted as a court-appointed attorney, Michael Dumont, a man who appeared long in the tooth and in well over his head.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and tucked his handkerchief back into his shirt pocket. “As I see it, you’ve got nothing more than circumstantial evidence, here, Chief. The Floyds have a prescription for that bottle your deputy found.”
“Then why was it found in the attic?” Nick asked. “If it was legal, why feel the need to hide it?”
“Because, Agent Scarborough, if you knew a damn thing about this town, you’d know that some addicts will do anything to get their hands on the drugs. Breaking into people’s houses ain’t off-limits to the likes of those people,” John Floyd replied.
“Look, Mr. Floyd.” Levi Walsh carried himself in a manner that could be intimidating, probably a result of his military training. “You can put all these accusations to rest by submitting to a DNA swab. What have you got to lose? If you didn’t hurt anyone, then you didn’t hurt anyone. But if those drugs come back as a match for the ones found in the victims’ systems, then I’d say you’ll have some problems.”
Lynn looked at her husband. “He’s right. We got nothing to hide. We never hurt nobody. Mr. Dumont? What is your opinion on this?”
Nick eyed the lawyer as if to suggest he do the right thing for his clients.
“If you got nothing to hide, then so be it. Agent Scarborough, you may commence with your DNA swabs as the Floyds have acquiesced.”
In that moment, Kate and Noah Quinn returned to the station. She quickly approached the others. “Scarborough, Walsh, we need to talk—privately.”
The agents stood, appearing concerned, and followed the two back to the briefing room.
“What happened?” Scarborough folded his arms and stood at attention. “Where’s Fisher and Duncan?”
“On their way back,” Quinn began. “From what we gathered, they were able to get some useful information, but I think Reid has exactly what we need to move this case in the right direction.”
“And that is?” Walsh asked.
Kate held the cell phone into view. “This belonged to the young man in the mineshaft, Tommy Conroy. His parents took it from him. They’ve been paying his bills and took it before he could sell it.”
“Great. How do we plan on breaking into it?” Walsh continued. But stopped as Duncan and Fisher entered the room.
“Chief says you’re all convening in here. What’s going on?” Fisher asked.
Kate peered at her colleagues’ arrival and held up the cell phone in full view. She soon continued, “We don’t need to break into it. The parents had the security code.” Kate entered the code and unlocked the phone. A picture of the young man with Joanne Waverly appeared as the phone’s background photo.
“Text history,” Duncan began. “That’s where we should start.” She pulled up a chair next to Kate and sat down.
“We’ll need to make a list of the names and numbers or just numbers and start looking into his contacts. What about social media?” Nick said. “Can you open a Facebook or Twitter account?”
“Facebook has fallen out of fashion with most Millennials,” Duncan continued. “Instagram, Snapchat. That’s likely where we’ll find something of value.”
“You’re the expert,” Fisher said. “Whatever we need to do to find out who this kid was talking to.”
“Walsh, we should head back out,” Nick said. “The lawyer has just convinced the Floyds to give us a swab. Anyone have a kit ready?”
“I’ve got one.” Fisher opened his carrier bag. “Like every good Boy Scout. Always prepared.” He followed Nick and Walsh back into the bullpen.
Kate continued to view the contents of the text messages and withdrew her own cell phone. “Let me get some shots of these numbers. We can start pulling them up.”
“If we can find a history of contact with the Floyds, we’d have enough to hold them,” Quinn said. “It appears Jenny Floyd was a popular girl. Had a lot of friends and a lot going for her. She seemed to be a trendsetter.”
“Yeah, everyone followed her lead down the rabbit hole,” Duncan replied.
“What do we know about her personal life?” Kate began. “Was she dating someone? Where did she work? You know, it’d probably be a good idea to get the Floyds to give us more on their daughter. I’m thinking, if this girl was so popular in high school, that probably carried her a long way with the locals—from a job standpoint and friends. We know right now that our victims all knew her on some level. But who was her influencer?”
“Who was pulling her strings,” Quinn added.
“Yep.”
Slocum parked his Ford truck and locked it before heading toward the hospital. Inside, he noticed a nurse behind the check-in desk, but it appeared the rest of the lobby was empty. She held a warm smiled as she spotted him enter. “Deputy Slocum, how are you? What can we do for you?”
“Chief left something here and I was on my way home and told him I’d stop in to see if I can find it.”
“Oh. What did he misplace?”
“Just a note pad or something when they brought that g
irl in earlier today.”
‘Oh, right. Well, you go on and take a look around. Won’t bother me.”
“Much obliged.” He tipped his hat and walked along the corridor, but not before turning back to notice the nurse had resumed her duties. He pushed open the door to Lori’s room. “Ms. Stewart? It’s Deputy Slocum. Mind if I come in?” He stepped just inside the door while awaiting her reply.
“Sure,” a quiet voice replied. “Come in.”
He headed closer to her bed, which was cast in the soft glow of an overhead light while the rest of the room was bathed in darkness. She appeared pale, strands of blonde hair resting on her cheeks. The gaunt expression of an addict feeling the effects of withdrawal.
“You need some water or something? Ice chips?” Slocum reached over to the side of her bed where a pitcher sat. “Isn’t that what they give people in the hospital?”
A faint smile appeared briefly on her lips. “Just some water, thank you.”
He poured a small amount in the plastic cup and inserted the straw before handing it to her. “They say you’re going home tomorrow.”
“That’s what they say.”
“Well, I think that’s good news, don’t you?”
She turned her sights toward him. “That depends on who and what you got to go home to. I ain’t got much of neither. Especially now with…” She trailed off.
“I am sorry to hear about Kevin. I didn’t know him personally, but I hear he was good people, ‘cept for, you know…”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks anyway, Deputy.”
He tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, having returned to his civilian clothes before leaving the station. He wasn’t the type to be well put-together, but Slocum didn’t care much about what others thought and therefore didn’t make much of an effort in his appearance. Not anymore. The former army private who’d completed half his tour in Afghanistan before returning home from injury only cared about one thing. This town. And the people in it.
