by Robin Mahle
Fisher rolled to a stop well behind Lazaro’s patrol car. He killed the lights and cut the engine. “The good news is, I don’t see Slocum’s car.”
“Unless he’s already been here and gone.” Duncan stepped out of the SUV and brandished her gun.
Quinn joined her while Fisher stepped out, both with guns at the ready. Fisher pointed for Duncan to veer right and for Quinn to veer left. He continued toward the door and tried the handle. It was locked. The curtains were drawn in the front window and it was so black outside, Fisher struggled to see his own hand.
He made his way toward Duncan, who’d walked around to the right side of the home. “Door’s locked. Let’s look for another way in.”
Both agents had a wealth of field experience. Duncan had been a field agent in Denver and worked in Violent Crimes. She also had extensive local law enforcement experience in Chicago, her home town. While Fisher, a New York field office veteran, had nearly fifteen years under his belt. Five with the BAU and ten with the NYFO before that.
Both were prepared to encounter the worst as they reached the back of the home. A Dutch-style door led from the kitchen to the rear yard and would be an easy way in. What concerned them both was the fact that they saw nothing happening inside. No movement. Meaning Lazaro could be hurt, or worse.
Within moments, Quinn appeared. “Nothing so far?”
Fisher pointed to the door and wrapped his hand around the handle and turned. “Here’s to small miracles.” The door was unlocked. “Lazaro better be okay in there because the chief will skin him alive for leaving this door unlocked.” He pushed it open to the darkness inside.
They felt their way around, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the scant light. A digital clock on the coffee maker, another on the DVD player led them into the living room.
“Shit!” Quinn stumbled on something but managed to keep his tone to a whisper. “Lazaro? Is that you?”
“Hey, what the hell’s going on?” Lazaro was slumped in the chair, rousing from the kick to his boot.
“Jesus. You’re okay,” Duncan replied.
“What’s going on?” This time, Lazaro’s voice raised.
“Shhh!” Fisher signaled him to stand up and they made their way through the front door and back outside. “Slocum’s gone. We thought he might’ve tried to come here. Thank God, he didn’t.”
“What do you mean, he’s gone? Did you check his house?” Lazaro seemed only partially awake.
“Of course we did. No answer. We came here because we thought he’d try to harm you or the Floyds,” Duncan replied. “And then we tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”
Lazaro retrieved his phone and spotted the missed call. “Damn it. I’m sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep. It was on silent too.”
“Look, we don’t have time to dick around,” Fisher said. “Do you know where Slocum might’ve gone?”
“I don’t understand. Why are you looking for him?”
It occurred to Quinn that they hadn’t mentioned the dead girl at the hospital. “We think he might’ve killed the woman who was admitted to the hospital earlier, the one who OD’d.”
“No. No, sir. You got it wrong. There has to be another explanation. Slocum would never hurt no one.”
“You said yourself you saw his truck there earlier tonight,” Fisher continued.
“Yeah? So?”
“So we got a call from the chief saying the girl was dead and he suspected foul play. We need to find Slocum to talk to him. Maybe he didn’t do anything to her, but his sudden disappearance doesn’t speak well to his innocence.”
Lazaro pushed his hand through his hair. The younger of the two deputies looked up to Slocum. Admired him, even. “Hell, I don’t know. He ain’t got no girlfriend that I know of. No family here in town.”
“Any family in Kentucky at all?” Fisher asked.
“Parents live in Lexington, I believe. Chief would know for sure.” He appeared dumbfounded. “I’ll be damned. You sure he’s a suspect?”
“It must be hard to hear this, but it seems more likely than we could’ve ever suspected,” Quinn replied. “It’s possible he’s gone—fled town.”
“Wait,” Lazaro raised a hand. “I think there could be one place. I don’t know, but maybe.”
“Where?” Duncan pressed on.
“The mines.”
“The place where we found the first three victims?” Fisher asked.
“No. That’d been shut down for years. No, I’m talking about the big mines. Where the real jobs was at till they got shut down in the nineties. There’s a road still there that goes up to the top of the hill. I know he liked to go there sometimes. Said it helped him to think. Cleared his head and all.”
“How far is this place?” Quinn asked.
“Twenty minutes from here, I reckon. Should we go?”
“I’m afraid you’ll need to stay here with the Floyds. Can’t risk leaving them alone. Right now, we have no idea if they’re a target or not. But as soon as it gets light, bring them back to the station. You know what? Duncan, maybe you should stay here. If Slocum comes…”
“Got it. No problem.”
The sun was still below the horizon, but a grey light began to emerge in the pre-dawn hour as Walsh and Kate arrived at Slocum’s house.
“Thank God for exigent circumstances. No way we could’ve waited for a warrant on this one. How do we plan on entering?” Kate asked.
Walsh smashed a decorative window pane in the center of the door and reached through to turn the handle. “Like this.”
Kate smiled. “You remind me of someone I used to work with a long time ago.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
“Just a cop. A good cop.”
“I like him already.” Walsh entered the home and found a light switch. “And God said, ‘let there be light.’” He turned to Kate. “And there was light. Come on. Let’s see what we can find on our buddy, Slocum. See if we’re even remotely on the right track here, like Quinn thinks.”
“You don’t agree?”
“I didn’t say that. I know the man’s good at his job, but sometimes it feels like we’re going on a wild goose chase. No offense. Profiling is no easy gig. Hell, none of our jobs are easy. But his is as much a guessing game as anything. An educated guessing game, but nonetheless.”
“You’re right. It is. I’ve been wrong before and I have no doubt I’ll be wrong again. I guess we just have to pray that being wrong doesn’t cost lives.”
“Amen to that, Reid. I suppose if we’re going to find anything, it’ll probably be in the bedroom. Unless you see some sort of office or a filing cabinet or something of that nature around here.”
“I’ll take a quick look around and join you in a minute.” Kate walked near the coffee table. A few magazines were spread across it. “He likes motorcycles,” she said to no one but herself. A side table next to the sofa had envelopes stacked on it. Mail. She began sifting through, but they were just utility bills, an offer from a credit card company, and a postcard advertising a free dental exam for new patients.
What puzzled Kate most of all was that if Slocum was the killer, and finding the dead body of a person he likely visited was a pretty good indicator, why try to point the finger at the Floyds when he found the drugs in their home? What had they done to him? Or was it just that the opportunity presented itself and he had no choice but to take advantage and attempt to frame them? Perhaps in hopes of casting eyes away from him.
She walked into the kitchen. “At least he’s clean.” No dishes in the sink. Nothing left on the counter, except a toaster and coffee maker. She began opening the drawers in search of the junk drawer. Everyone had one of those, right? Or was it just her? “Ha, I knew there’d be one.” She pulled it out and emptied its contents onto the counter. After sifting through for a minute, she realized it was, in fact, just junk.
“Come on, Slocum. There’s a reason you’re gone. What is it? What did you do?” She turned an
d faced the refrigerator. “Holy shit.” Kate stared at the pictures held on the fridge with magnets. “Hey, Levi? You might want to come in here. In the kitchen.”
She heard his footsteps draw near and he soon appeared.
“What is it?”
She pointed to the fridge. “He knew her. He knew Jenny Floyd.”
“And it looks like they were more than friends,” he added.
“Yes, it does.”
21
The discovery of a relationship between Eric Slocum and Jenny Floyd meant the likelihood that Slocum was the killer had grown exponentially. However, the extent of the relationship was still in question. And it still raised concerns as to why Slocum would want to frame the Floyds, if that was the case.
Kate removed the photos from the refrigerator. “There has to be more evidence in here. Did you see a laptop or computer in the bedroom?”
“No,” Walsh began. “It stands to reason, though, that if he is, in fact, the killer, he’s gone and so is any evidence we might find on a computer. But the fact remains, this girl died over a year ago. Why kill now? There had to have been a catalyst of some sort.”
“I think the only way we’re going to get more intel on him is to request phone records,” Kate said.
“We don’t have time. That will take days. Hell, we’re still waiting on the victims’ records. Slocum’s gone. And I, for one, am not comfortable with the idea that he’s missing and might yet kill again.”
“The Floyds must not know about the relationship. Surely it would’ve come up when they were being questioned yesterday,” Kate continued. “Why keep it a secret? She was an adult. Out of high school. No reason to hide it.”
“What do we know about Slocum’s past?” Walsh began to pace the kitchen. “He’s not married. Doesn’t have any kids. Oh, and didn’t he have a dog? Where’s the dog? He’s Been a deputy in Crown Pointe for what, five years or so?”
“Seems like the Floyds would’ve been happy to have their daughter dating someone in law enforcement. Is it possible she eventually rejected him? Slocum? Broke up with him before she fell in with the wrong crowd?” Kate asked.
“Are you saying that could have been his motive and that maybe she didn’t die of an overdose, at least, not one she induced herself? Look at Lori Stewart. I imagine once the labs come back, they’ll show the synthetic drug in her system.”
“She was admitted because of an OD. That would stand to reason drugs of some sort would still be in her system.”
“Hear me out,” Walsh continued. “Is it possible he gave her more of the drugs, waited until she began showing signs of another overdose, then smothered the life out of her?”
“At this point, I’d say anything’s possible. But right now, this is all conjecture until we can get Slocum into custody and grill him. We have to find him first.” Kate retrieved her cell. “I’ll contact Quinn. See how things played out at the Floyds.” She waited for him to pick up the line. “It’s Reid. We’re at Slocum’s place. It appears he knew and possibly had a relationship with Jenny Floyd. What’s going on there? Are the Floyds okay?”
“They’re safe. We left Duncan with Lazaro to keep watch. So he did know Jenny.” Quinn paused a moment. “Lazaro said we might find Slocum holed up on an old mining ground. A big one that closed in the nineties. Claims he went there to clear his head on occasion. But, I didn’t expect to find out they’d had a relationship. We thought it could be someone seeking revenge. It’s starting to look like Slocum’s been our guy all along. What’d you find that pointed to a relationship?”
“Pictures on his refrigerator, cozy pictures. They look to be a few years old. Hard to say. But he must’ve come back here after the hospital because there’s no laptop or anything of that nature. You’re on your way to this mine?”
“Fisher and I are. Scarborough is still with Tate. I don’t know what’s happening on their end. What’s your plan, Reid?”
“Sounds like you all have the mine covered. I think Walsh and I should catch up with Scarborough. There’s more to this Slocum and Jenny Floyd story than we know. If he isn’t at the mine, maybe we can garner more information once we speak to the chief.”
“Okay. Keep me posted and I’ll do the same.”
Kate ended the call and returned her phone to her pocket. “The Floyds are safe. Quinn and Fisher are on their way to an old mining operation. Apparently, Lazaro says Slocum would go there sometimes to clear his head. They’re going to check it out, but Duncan’s staying with the kid, just in case.”
“They may be spinning their wheels. But I guess we follow any lead we can get at this point to find him.”
The sun was finally above the horizon and the day was only just beginning. So was the manhunt for a potential killer who was also a beloved law enforcement officer. The paradoxical nature of the investigation would have to be analyzed another time, as was often the case in Quinn’s line of work. Reid’s performance so far confirmed he had made the right decision, something that still plagued him, no matter how many times he’d assured her that she had earned her position. And, it seemed the rest of the team was coming around. The rapport was obvious, even with Walsh, a man who wasn’t easily won over.
But it remained to be seen if Scarborough would gel with the rest. He had taken the lead, which was his job, but which also left Fisher to wonder where his place was. Scarborough had seniority, but Fisher had taken a place as a leader in the brief absence of now Unit Chief Cole.
“I don’t know about you, but I think that could be the place up ahead.” Fisher drove along the narrow lane, rife with overgrown shrubbery.
The stripped hillside was an obvious indication they were in the right place. And it was clear this had once been a large operation that had brought prosperity to the region. Now both were gone; the operation and prosperity.
“Looks like the place, although he’d be unwise to come here,” Quinn replied. “Of course, it might not be a question of rational thought in this instance. If he is here, he could be battling grief, guilt, and a host of other emotions that would suggest a desire to be captured. Right now, we don’t know what his motives are.”
“I see a parking lot just ahead.” Fisher pointed toward the area. “They left a jobsite trailer here. When did you say they shut this place down?”
“According to Lazaro, it was in the nineties.”
“That’s a long time for a place this size to sit abandoned. You’d have thought someone would’ve come in and bought the land, repurposed it or something.”
“You see any other vehicles?” Quinn asked.
“Not yet. It’d be nice to have some backup right about now. The two of us covering the area is going to take some time.”
“I’m not sure we’ll need to waste much of it here,” Quinn began. “Slocum wouldn’t have walked. I say we drive on the roads we can access and if we don’t see any signs of life, my suggestion would be to pull the plug and head back to the station. After what Reid and Walsh found, Tate might offer up information a little more worthwhile.”
“Possibly. Nevertheless, we can’t overlook it,” Fisher added.
“Then let’s have a look around. I’ll check out the trailer.” Quinn unbuckled his seatbelt. “If you want to take a drive up, I’ll be okay here for a few minutes.”
“Probably best to split up and cover more ground anyway.”
Quinn stepped out of the vehicle after Fisher rolled to a stop in front of the trailer.
“Watch your back, Quinn.”
“I got this one.” He continued along the path leading to the trailer and checked the handle before Fisher pulled away. With a smile on his face, he turned to the car with a thumbs-up.” He drew his gun and walked inside.
Fisher pulled away and headed up the hill to look for signs of Slocum.
It appeared the trailer had been abandoned for some time, though there were signs of habitation following the shutter of operations. Perhaps it had been used by the homeless or was a hideout fo
r teenagers. He spotted used needles and blankets strewn about.
Quinn wondered, though, had Slocum’s family been affected by the mine’s closure? Had his father been a miner? These were things that could attribute to his current state of mind. Things Quinn needed answers to in order to form a conclusive profile. Although, in light of the current situation, was that really necessary? It seemed clearer by the moment that Slocum was the man responsible for the deaths of those people. The question lingered, why?
What Quinn needed was evidence Slocum had recently been here. Or evidence of where he might now be. Both seemed elusive, but he would press on for answers while his colleague explored the grounds.
Kate held the photos of Eric Slocum and Jenny Floyd in her lap as Walsh drove back to the station. “The Floyds should be there by now. Lazaro and Duncan were ordered to bring them in at first light. I’d sure like to talk to them about Jenny and Eric Slocum.”
“I have a feeling that revelation will come as somewhat of a surprise.” Walsh cast his eyes to Kate before returning his attention to the road. “What I’d really like to get my hands on are the DNA results on the Floyds.”
“We’d have a definitive answer on their culpability and it could shed light on Slocum’s involvement.”
“I do know one thing,” Walsh continued. “Our odds of finding him are dwindling by the second. I hope the Floyds can tell us something useful. Otherwise, we’re up shit creek.”
“I’ve been up that creek so many times, the smell doesn’t bother me anymore,” Kate replied.
Walsh revealed a smile. “I like you, Kate.”
She grinned and peered out onto the road ahead. “Glad to hear it, Levi.”
Within minutes, Walsh pulled into the parking lot at the station and cut the engine. “I don’t see Lazaro’s patrol car here.”
“I’m sure he’s on his way.” Kate stepped out and headed toward the door.
Walsh quickly caught up to her and opened it for her to enter first. She was going to be happy with this team. She could see that clearly now. “Thanks.”
