His Good Deeds (Kate Reid Thrillers Book 13)

by Robin Mahle

  His Good Deeds

  A Kate Reid Novel

  Robin Mahle

  HARP House Publishing, LLC.

  Published by HARP House Publishing

  May 2021 (1st edition)

  Copyright ©2021 by Robin Mahle

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design: Ampersand Book Covers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  About the Author

  Also by Robin Mahle

  1

  The asphalt streets seared under the noonday sun in Downtown Pittsburgh where the rivers converged in an area known as the Golden Triangle. The “triangle” appeared to have been stitched together in this City of Bridges, like wounds that hadn’t yet closed. Nearby, in Market Square, well-dressed businessmen and women with an air of self-importance hurried for a speedy lunch inside one of the many restaurants and cafés.

  “Rats in the maze,” Danny whispered, sweat forming a ring around his collar in the summer heat. From across the street where high-rises loomed, he peered at the café under the stale guise of sunglasses and a baseball hat. Still, no one took notice, most with their heads buried in phones while they navigated the city streets.

  Rob Delaney sat in a booth inside the café across from friend and colleague, Gwen Madura, while the two finished lunch. Through Danny’s shaded lenses, Rob appeared to be enjoying her company, though he looked awkward around the beautiful woman. Rob was single and so was Gwen. They worked together at TriState Financial. Danny knew all this because Rob updated everything he did and everywhere he went on his social media.

  “Hey, buddy, watch out!” A man in a shirt and tie brushed by him but not before glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “You undercover or something, pal?”

  Danny pulled down his ballcap and drew back under an awning, out of the path of on-comers, but hadn’t taken his gaze off the café window. He learned that Rob, at 34-years-old, hadn’t had many serious relationships. It seemed the ladder of success took precedence. That all changed when Gwen, the 30-year-old with light brown hair, shiny, curly and just at her chin, had been hired.

  “Can I get you two anything else?” The waiter stood at their table wearing a wide smile with impatience behind his eyes.

  “Just the check, please. Thanks.” Rob quickly turned to Gwen. “Unless you wanted a refill or something?”

  “No, I’m good. We should probably head back to the office anyway.” She turned up her chin at the waiter. “Everything was delicious, though. Thank you.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back with the check.”

  When he disappeared, Rob cleared his throat and fidgeted with his fingers, casting down his gaze for a moment. Finally, with a deep intake of breath he peered up at her again. “So, this was really nice.”

  Wearing a demure smile, Gwen dipped her head, and her cheeks flushed the palest of pinks. “It was.”

  “So I was thinking maybe we could get together, like tomorrow night or something? Grab some dinner or whatever.”

  With a long, slender finger and perfectly manicured nail, Gwen tucked a full swath of light brown hair behind her right ear. “Sure, I’d like that.”

  His shoulders pulled back, Rob sat up with confidence. “Great. Okay. That’s awesome. So dinner, tomorrow night.”

  The waiter arrived holding the leather folder. “Here’s the bill whenever you’re ready.”

  Rob had his credit card in hand and noticed Gwen retrieve her own card. “I got this.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.” He handed the card to the waiter.

  Gwen waited until the man was out of earshot. “I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow night, then.”

  Rob revealed a gleaming white smile. “Perfect.” He stood from the table and tucked the receipt into his wallet. His hand extended toward her. “After you.”

  Gwen started toward the exit and emerged beneath the bright sunlight. “First day we haven’t had rain in a while. It’s nice to see the sun.” She brushed up against his arm and smiled.

  “Summer has arrived.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and started toward the street to his silver BMW parked along the curb in a metered spot. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you to your car?”

  “No, please. It’s fine.” Gwen swatted away the notion. “I’m only around the block. I didn’t get lucky enough to get a good spot like you.”

  “If you insist.” With his phone in his hand, Rob pressed on an auto app to unlock his car. “We could’ve driven together, you know.”

  She retrieved her keys from her purse. “Next time. Hey, I’ll see you back at the office.”

  “See you.” Rob walked to the driver’s side door and slipped onto the black leather seats. He watched Gwen turn the corner and sighed as she disappeared.

  From across the street, Danny reemerged from the shadows. Sunglasses on, he pulled his cap low on his head. Sweat beaded along the sides of his smooth cheeks now. He smacked his lips to moisten them while his clammy hands made holding onto the device a challenge.

  From inside his car, Rob placed his phone in the center console cup holder and pressed the ignition. When his phone lit up, he peered at the screen. With a furrowed brow, Rob saw his own face on the screen. His camera had been activated. “What the hell?”

  A thunderous boom, like a jet breaking the sound barrier, rattled nearby windows, including the café. Bystanders were blown back from the surging wave of blistering hot energy. The BMW became engulfed inside an inferno. Flames and black smoke reached the sky. Metal debris propelled at a great speed, threatening to impale anyone within 100 feet.

  Car alarms shrieked and people screamed. From around the corner, Gwen ran toward the noise, and thrust her hands over her mouth. The muffled sound of horror contained, she squatted low. “Rob!” With trembling hands, she fumbled for her phone and dialed 911. “A bomb. A bomb!”

  “Ma’am, emergency services are on the way. Are you hurt?” the operator asked.

  “No. But my friend. Oh God. My friend’s car. It was his car. Please, hurry!”

  The Pittsburgh police cordoned off two blocks of Fourth Avenue. News vans, reporters with cameras, and crowds were held back outside the barricades. Inside, patrol cars with swirling lights, ambulances, and fire fighters lined the street. Rob Delaney’s 2015 silver BMW M3 was reduced to charred metal. And he was still inside.

  At las
t count, 10 injured, no one else had died. A stroke of luck. ATF Agent Chris Stallard stepped out of his SUV and walked to the middle of the road. The smell of burned rubber and burned flesh assaulted his senses. No matter how often he’d been exposed to the stench of death, it always turned his stomach.

  At 5 feet 8 inches, Stallard was overall a fairly average guy. Dark hair, slightly thinning on top as he reached his mid-forties. He was an everyman in every way, except for a remarkable knowledge of explosives and a sharp sense of humor. His hands on his waist, he peered left. Yellow police tape flapped in the breeze near the barricade. He turned to his right and noticed the debris on the sidewalks and in the street. Broken glass, café menu signs split in half. In front of him—blood. Stallard squatted low and eyeballed the approximate radius field of the blast. “50 yards, at least.”

  “Hey. You’re ATF?” FBI Agent Grant Tillis, wearing his signature windbreaker approached.

  “That’s what the jacket says,” Stallard replied. “You must be FBI.”

  “That’s what the jacket says. I’m Agent Tillis.” He offered his hand. “Looks like we’re going to have to figure out who the hell is in charge here. Pittsburgh Police is over there. Come on, let’s hash this out.” He started across the street toward the BMW. “The lieutenant’s talking to a friend of the victim now.”

  “I heard 10 injured. Anyone critical?” Stallard asked.

  “Just the driver.” Tillis approached the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Crenshaw, sorry to interrupt. ATF is here.”

  “Great. Welcome to the show. I was just speaking to Ms. Madura. She’s a friend of the deceased and had been having lunch with him before this happened.” The lieutenant turned to her. “Ms. Madura, why don’t you show these gentlemen what you just showed me?”

  Gwen’s eyes were red, and her curly hair clung to her cheeks where tears had dried. She retrieved her phone. “After I called 911, I held my phone in my hand and stood back and just watched him burn.”

  “Ma’am,” Stallard cut in. “There’s nothing you could’ve done for your friend. Trust me.”

  She shrugged off the comment and continued. “I don’t know how long I stood here. Seconds? Minutes? But my phone vibrated in my hand and I thought it was 911 calling me back or something, I don’t know. I looked at my screen and saw a Facebook notification from Rob.”

  “He’s the victim?” Stallard asked.

  Gwen nodded. “Anyway, I opened it.” Her voice faltered and tears streamed down her cheeks again.

  “The lieutenant placed his hand on her shoulder to offer comfort before he eyed the agents. “Apparently, for just a few moments right before the blast, Mr. Delaney, the victim, was live streaming.”

  “What?” FBI Agent Tillis pulled back in confusion.

  “He didn’t appear aware of it,” the lieutenant replied.

  Gwen opened her phone and held up the screen. “It’s still here.”

  The agents watched as Rob’s brow furrowed when he glanced down at his phone, seemingly unaware it had been recording.

  “It went out shortly after the blast, but not before everyone saw him…” She turned away.

  “For Christ’s sake. They watched him burn.” Agent Tillis tossed a glance to Stallard and started walking. When Stallard and the lieutenant joined him, he continued. “We can rule out any ideas that this was a random attack.”

  Stallard glanced over his shoulder at the still-smoldering vehicle. “You got that right. Mr. Delaney was targeted by someone. And this someone had access to his social media, his car, and knew exactly where he would be.” He turned back to the other men. “Are we calling this terrorism or good old-fashioned murder?”

  Senior Unit Agent Cameron Fisher eyed the box of toothpicks as he pulled out his pencil drawer. He picked it up and tapped the end of it like it was a pack of cigarettes, until one shook out. “That was the hiring board.” Fisher stuck the toothpick between his lips as he studied Special Agent Kate Reid.

  The 48-year-old former NYPD detective now ran this operation. BAU-4 at Quantico specialized in violent killers…serial killers, and other violent offenses against adults. He used to work alongside Agent Reid but was now her boss. He watched her grow anxious with anticipation.

  Kate Reid sat on the edge of the chair. The 34-year-old, who’d been with the Bureau going on six years, waited for the news. After new-hire Jonathan Surrey pulled himself out of the running for Noah Quinn’s old job and recommended Kate for the position, she’d been waiting for the Board to reach their decision. It would mean she would be the lead profiler and a Senior Supervisory Agent.

  Her elbow leaned on the armrest; she shook away a few rogue strands of brunette hair from the low bun at the back of her neck. “And?”

  “You got the promotion.” Fisher stood from his desk with an outstretched hand. “Congratulations. You’re our lead profiler and our newest Supervisory Special Agent.”

  The weight fell from her shoulders and she stood to accept his hand. “Thank you, Cam. You have no idea how good this feels.”

  “Oh, I have some idea. You deserved this, Kate. It should’ve been yours a long time ago, but…”

  “Protocol. Yeah, I get it. I also have Surrey to thank for this.”

  “I’m not sure you do.” Fisher released her hand and pulled the toothpick from his mouth. The wrinkles around his eyes grew deeper as he raised his lips into a grin. “He said you were the most qualified, sure. But we all knew that already. I’m just sorry the whole Quinn situation put a damper on your career.”

  “I don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Kate replied. “Well, I should get to work packing my things and moving offices.”

  Fisher shoved his hands in his pockets. His brown eyes bored into hers like a concerned father, though he was scarcely 15 years her senior. “You let me know if you need any help. Congrats again, Kate. We’re all excited for you. Now get to work.”

  “Yes, sir.” She smiled before retreating into the hall, knowing the first stop was to see Levi. His office was only steps ahead and she stood in front of his open door.

  Levi Walsh was as close to Kate as a brother. An only child with few friends in her life who were close enough to consider family, Levi was among them. Dwight Jameson from her days at the Washington Field Office, and Sam Hansen were among the others. Oh, how Kate wished Sam could be here for this. She would’ve never believed it. But Sam’s life had been taken by a man who nearly destroyed Kate more than once. The childhood friend was always in her heart and never forgotten. Kate’s guilt also made sure of that.

  “Agent Reid. Do we have news?” Walsh peered up from his desk. The forty-something military man from Alabama had piercing blue eyes and the kindest face she’d ever known. Former Army Intelligence, he could read her like a book and the look on her face must’ve spoken volumes.

  “We do.” Kate sauntered inside. Her slender, petite frame was defined by black dress pants and a fitted black blazer. “Fisher got off the phone with the hiring board. It’s a go.”

  He stood. “You got it. Well, son of a bitch. I knew you would, SSA Reid.” Levi walked around his desk, his stocky build accentuated by his rolled-up white Oxford shirt and tailored dark blue dress pants. He pulled her into a gentle embrace. “Good going, kid. I knew they’d come around.”

  “Thanks, Levi. I’m not sure I believe it just yet. Maybe after I move into Quinn’s office,” she replied.

  “Your office.” Walsh pulled back from the embrace. “I’ll bet Scarborough is happy.”

  “I haven’t told him yet. I just walked out of Fisher’s office with the news. I’ll call him in a minute.”

  “Good. Hey, we should celebrate. Let’s see if everyone’s up for drinks after work,” he added.

  “I won’t turn down drinks.” Kate spun on her heel.

  “Let Scarborough know, would you? It’d be nice to see him,” he called out after her.

  “Sure thing.” Kate’s smile faded as she returned to her office. It would be nice to get
the gang back together. It had been months since Nick’s transfer to Unit 2. As the Senior Unit Agent for that department, he still worked to overcome the water-cooler talk that he hadn’t deserved the promotion after being demoted in Unit 4. That he didn’t have the background to work in Unit 2, but Nick had a long and storied history with the Bureau dating back more than 10 years. He had friends in high places, like Unit Chief Cole. He couldn’t bear to watch Nick’s talents be wasted. Still, in the few months that he’d been in Unit 2, the situation had improved. She knew once he displayed his leadership, they’d back him.

  Kate sat down at her desk, still in a euphoric daze. She hadn’t spoken yet to Eva Duncan, her lone female ally on the team, nor had she spoken to Jonathan Surrey. Owing people wasn’t how Kate preferred to operate, but there was no mistaking, regardless of what Fisher said, that Surrey had played a big part in this move. He deserved some credit.

  The Old Henry pub and grill was only blocks from the Quantico compound. The BAU Unit 4 team gathered around two tables that had been pushed together in the center of the room. Dark panels adorned the walls and wood details surrounded the place. It was as close to being inside an English pub as one could find in D.C.

  Cameron Fisher sat next to his subordinate, who also happened to be his live-in girlfriend, Eva. A force to be reckoned with, Eva Duncan grew up in Chicago. In her mid-thirties, she wore her wavy caramel hair down past her shoulders and was built like an elite athlete. Their relationship had gone dark since Fisher took over as Senior Unit Agent. It was as if the situation had been swept under the rug. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Regardless, it was no skin off Kate’s teeth. Hell, she’d dated her boss before he became her husband for years. Had it been a problem at times? Yes. Yes, it had. There were many reasons why Nick Scarborough now worked in Unit 2.