by Robin Mahle
On arrival, he pulled to a stop along the curb beneath the large canopies of the tree-lined street. The compact community left no room for luxuries such as garages, so cars were parked along the roadway.
Danny was certain cameras would be mounted to every home in this neighborhood, so he parked several houses down and would walk under the cover of the trees. Dressed in a black hoodie and black pants, Danny was nothing more than a shadow.
Propped up against the headboard on the firm hotel bed with his legs outstretched, Surrey pressed the TV remote to change the channels. In socked feet, he rubbed them together like a cricket while his eyes stared at the screen. None of what passed before his gaze registered. Instead, he conjured scenarios as to how the bomber planted the devices and trailed his victims until just the right moment. A meticulous plan predicated on assumptions of security cameras, crowds of people, and blast radius. The more he considered it, the more he thought these were not crimes of opportunity. Far too much planning had taken place. The killer was careful to the point of obsession. Careful to avoid detection at all costs. Careful to avoid collateral damage. Kate had it right. His victims must’ve come to him in some manner. The killer didn’t seek them out. And when they didn’t meet his standards, to whatever degree that was, he placed them on his list of people who were against all that he stood for. The killer had been wronged on some level and sought revenge for it.
Surrey peered at the time, knowing he should close his eyes. And now he realized that Duncan had been right about Reid and him. The move to BAU-4 from Denver had been a risk. And he’d relinquished a truly coveted position for the good of the team, for the good of Reid. She was better than he in many ways, but they complimented each other. He felt it before, back when he shadowed her on an investigation.
His eyelids grew heavy, and he turned off the television. Surrounded by darkness, he lay flat on the bed, his gaze toward the ceiling. “Computer. Phones. Tech support. He works for someone in that field.”
Surrey’s phone lit up with an incoming call. The bright light of his screen forced him to squint when he answered it. “What is it? Is everything okay?”
“We need to search the victims’ phone records again.” Kate’s voice sounded on the other end of the line.
“Tech support,” Surrey replied.
“Yep. Rather than us searching for where he might work, I’ll bet we’ll find some kind of tech support company that the victims called in the weeks or days ahead of their phones getting hacked.”
“They all called the same company,” he continued.
“Has to be. I’ve been laying here in bed, searching for the connection.”
“You and me, both,” Surrey added.
“Good. Let’s jump on it first thing.”
“You got it. Get some rest. Night.” Surrey ended the call while his lips drew up into a smile.
At 6 am, most people were either just getting out of bed, or if they were really ambitious, were just arriving at the gym. The BAU team was walking into the Pittsburgh Field Office. But Tillis had beaten them and awaited their arrival.
“I got your message. I have coffee ready. Come on back and let’s get started.” He headed to the ops room and glanced back. “You guys don’t sleep much, do you?”
“BAU doesn’t make allowances for sleep.” Duncan laughed. “You’re one to talk, huh?”
“Me?” Tillis placed his hand on his chest. “I’m just trying to keep up with you guys.” He opened his office door. “I have the phone records printed out with copies for everyone. They go back three months. Based on what we know now, it looks as though our guy follows them for a few weeks after their phones are cloned before doing the deed, with the exception of our Instagram influencer. So, he must use a similar pattern when it comes to picking out his victims. We’ll see if your theory pans out, but I like it.”
Kate set down her carrier bag at the table. “What about the videos? How are you guys coming along?”
“I have to confess, the moment I got in, I pulled these records, so I haven’t followed up with Forensics. I’ll let you three settle in, grab some coffee, and I’ll run down there now for an update. Fingers crossed.”
After he left, Surrey sat down next to Kate and grabbed a highlighter from his bag. “Let’s see if we’re right.”
Duncan peered at them, still standing at the table almost frozen in thought.
Kate looked at her. “You okay?”
“Just thinking. We shouldn’t rule out that these people are connected in another way. I don’t want to come between you two and your theory, but it is possible they knew each other.”
“We can’t afford to overlook anything. I’m always open to ideas.” Kate kept her eyes on Duncan while she finally sat down. “Is there anything else you think we should consider?”
“Online groups, fan pages. These victims may have had common interests. Let’s not forget that this guy chose to livestream their murders via their own accounts. Any of the groups they might have belonged to could’ve led him to find more victims. We should analyze their social media behaviors—their likes and follows.” Duncan picked up her copy of the records. “But this is a step in the right direction.”
As they started their search, Tillis returned. “We got a hit.” He rushed to one of the laptops and inserted the flash drive. “A white car near the Financial District.”
“Where Delaney was murdered?” Kate asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He cued the video. “See for yourselves.”
Kate studied the screen while the others joined her. “Where was this in relation to the incident?”
“Across the street, down three buildings on the left.” Tillis folded his arms and gazed at the screen. “There. Right there.” He stopped the video. “You see that car?”
“I see a front bumper and a tire,” Surrey replied.
“Yeah, well, our guy isn’t stupid, but I think he missed a camera. Tried to stay out of the shot, but we got just enough. It’s white. A small white car that appears to be an older model Ford Focus.”
“How can you tell that from what’s shown?” Duncan asked.
“Ran the image and cross-referenced it with compact and sub-compact vehicles from every manufacturer. My guys were up for hours running this just to be certain it was a white Ford Focus. I’m going with it. They’re working on pinning down a model year and right now, it’s between a 2008 to 2013. We get that pinpointed; we got ourselves a solid lead. And a car to search for at the other scenes.”
A knowing smile played momentarily on Kate’s lips. “How much longer before they finish scouring the other sites?”
“Hours,” Tillis replied. “We’re getting down to the wire now. And if your theory pans out, we are well on our way to identifying this son of a bitch.” His phone rang with an incoming call and he stepped out of the room. In the hallway, he answered. “Yeah, what’s up?” Tillis’s face drained of color. His shoulders dropped and he rubbed his hand on his forehead. “When? Where? I’m on my way. No, I’ll call Stallard.” Tillis returned to the room.
Kate noticed the look on his face. They all had. “No.”
“Near Shadyside. Call came into Pittsburgh Police. That was Lieutenant Crenshaw. We need to hustle and get down there. Now.”
13
The FBI’s Baltimore Field Office was where Nick Scarborough tracked down G. Coletta. No obvious connection to the Boston Field Office where Richard Lehmann’s belongings had been in holding, which left Nick with more questions than answers.
He waited for Walsh to meet him for a coffee this morning off the Quantico compound. Now he needed to find where the Coletta piece of the puzzle fit.
“Morning.” Walsh approached the table and sat down. “I wouldn’t mind one of those.”
Nick garnered the attention of the barista. “Another coffee, please.”
“Sure thing,” she replied.
He returned his attention to Walsh. “He’s in Baltimore. That’s all I could find. What ab
out you?” His eye caught movement beyond Walsh’s shoulder. “Fisher.”
Walsh pulled out a chair. “He needs to be here for this. I was going to tell you, but I thought you might object.”
Fisher joined them. “What kind of trouble have we gotten ourselves in now, eh, Scarborough?”
“I know you get how serious this is,” Nick began. “Walsh filled you in?”
“He did. She’s a member of my team. I do understand how serious this is and I should’ve been brought in at the beginning,” Fisher replied.
“Walsh and I are handling things. Bringing you onboard would’ve exposed you to details you might not want to know. Walsh knows what’s involved and has accepted the risk. So have I.”
“Maybe if you’d given me a chance, huh? This isn’t the old days, Scarborough. You can’t run this show alone.” Fisher turned to the barista. “Coffee, black, please.” He shifted in the chair and eyed them. “So, who’s G. Coletta and what does he have to do with the message that Reid got from a dead man’s phone?”
“That’s what Walsh is here to explain. I got the name, he’s been working on the details.” With his eyes on Walsh, he added. “So?”
“Gordon Coletta is a 15-year Bureau veteran, currently the SSA at the Baltimore Field Office,” Walsh began. “He has ties to top brass at Headquarters and worked there for a short time.”
“Doing what?” Nick sipped on his coffee.
“Corruption.” Walsh eyed them. “Antitrust, bribery. Interesting, right? Same as Gustafson.”
“So we have Gordon Coletta, who authorized the request to alter Theo Bishop’s passport data,” Nick began. “But what’s more important is who asked him to do it?”
“Have we ruled out Coletta, himself?” Fisher asked.
“I wasn’t able to track back any direct links to Carol Whitman. I have no idea if he’s ever been in contact with her on his own,” Walsh added. “My hunch is that Coletta was operating on someone else’s instructions. We still don’t know who that was.”
“How long has it been since Reid received a message?” Fisher took the coffee from the woman. “Thank you.”
“Just the initial text,” Nick replied. “It’s been quiet since then.”
“That’s been almost 4 months. If he wanted to go after Reid, what’s he waiting for?” Fisher poured in a pack of sugar.
“The right time,” Walsh said. “He’s waiting for something. We just don’t know what yet. Scarborough and I have worked since the beginning on this and as you can see, we haven’t gotten far. Fortunately, the DNI undersecretary sent Scarborough the Coletta information.”
“For a price,” Nick added. “Let’s just say I’m going to owe him now.”
Walsh eyed him. “So, we know Coletta is involved. We just don’t know why or who he’s working for.”
“What’s our play, here, guys?” Fisher pressed on. “I’ve got half my team hunting down a serial bomber in Pittsburgh. And I got a call from Duncan a little while ago telling me they were headed out to another bombing. Reid is exposed. What are we going to do about that?”
Nick stared at his coffee before turning up his gaze. “We think they’ve been gathering evidence to use against Kate. This involves Richard Lehmann or else why use his phone? That was no accident. Everyone’s playing a waiting game. Us and them. They’re waiting to see how deep we’ll dig, how close we’ll get. We’re waiting for them to come at us, to tell us what they want. One of us is going to have to blink.”
“Reid is their leverage,” Walsh said. “I’ve been looking into this since the security footage from the train station showed Theo Bishop purchasing the tickets. Someone figured that out too. And because Reid has a checkered history in and out of the Bureau, that’s what they’ll use to put a stop to us getting any closer.”
The black Cadillac Escalade smoldered. Smoke still billowed. Firefighters stood on the flooded street while the hydrant still dripped and began to put away their equipment. The two cars parked near the Escalade suffered extensive damage.
Tillis rolled up behind Agent Stallard. He turned around and spotted their arrival.
The agents stepped out of the car and approached the scene when Tillis began, “I don’t know why I’m asking, but is this the work of our guy?”
Stallard peered beyond him while the BAU agents quickly caught up. “I see you’re all still here.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the Pittsburgh police lieutenant. “Tell them what you told me.”
Tillis creased his brow. “What’s going on?”
“The victim has been transported to the hospital,” Crenshaw replied.
“He’s alive?” Kate cut in.
“For now,” the lieutenant added. “He’s in critical condition, but he’s alive.”
Stallard rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “The bomber didn’t finish the job. And it was him. Not a copycat. No one knew the bomber was using a soda can as a casing. He chose Sprite this time.”
“Holy shit.” Tillis paced as though ready to sprint out of there. “We need to talk to the victim right now. Which hospital?”
“AGH,” the lieutenant replied.
“Allegheny. Okay.” Tillis spun around and headed back to his car. He stopped short and turned back. “Am I going alone or is anyone else interested in learning whether this man knows the bomber?”
“I’ll go.” Kate turned to Surrey and Duncan. “Gather whatever you can here, and I’ll meet you guys back at the field office. We can pick up where we left off, hopefully, with more information.” She hurried to catch up with Tillis. “How far is it to the hospital?”
“Twenty minutes.” He slipped behind the wheel. “Get in, Reid. We’re wasting time.” He waited until Kate climbed onto the passenger seat and turned the engine. “We’ll need to get an image of our blonde guy in front of the victim.”
“Who can I call at your office to get it sent to me?”
“I’ll do it.” He pressed his Bluetooth, and the line rang. “It’s Tillis. Get me Hernandez.” He waited while the line was transferred. “Hey, buddy. I need you to shoot over a screenshot of blonde boy ASAP. Our victim is still alive.”
“Right. Yeah, okay. I’ll get on it. Are you with him now?”
“Not yet. You got ten minutes. Send it to my phone. Thanks, man. I gotta bail.” Tillis ended the call. “And that’s how you get things done around here.”
Kate regarded him. “You don’t think much of us over at BAU, do you, Agent Tillis?”
He glanced at her with a smirk that revealed his true feelings. “That’s not the case. Look, I just think that you guys are the big brains and us field agents are the muscle. Thing is, sometimes it takes more muscle than brains. No offense.”
“None taken,” Kate replied.
“Take your profile, for example,” he pressed on. “Nothing wrong with it. Straight forward, concise. But frankly, it didn’t help us one bit. Sometimes it’s the legwork that makes the difference. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Respectfully, I disagree. If the person who had run into Sienna Page that night hadn’t fit my profile, was a woman, or anyone other than what I suggested, we wouldn’t have assumed he was our guy. You might not put a lot of faith into what we do, but that’s okay because I do.” Kate stared through the windshield at the road ahead. “And if you want to make things interesting, how about a small wager on the theory that the bomber works at a tech company, in support, most likely, and that the victims had been in contact with him for those purposes, which was the reason I asked for the phone records again.” She turned to him. “Sometimes, big brains are necessary.”
Tillis cast her a sideways glance. “Like I said earlier, I’m not dismissing your theory. It could well be the case.” He paused a moment. “Look, Reid, I understand you don’t get to be at BAU because you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sorry. I was out of line. But I know a thing or two as well. Right now, we have a victim who’s still breathing. If, like Sienna Page, he ran into the b
omber at some point before this, all we’ll need to do is show him the picture.”
“I guess we’re about to find out.”
Tillis offered a half-smile. “This is the hospital here.”
They hurried inside and Tillis had his ID in hand as they approached the administration desk. “FBI Agent Tillis. We need to see the car bombing victim who was just brought in.”
The nurse peered at his computer and pressed a few keys. “Mr. Hardy is currently in surgery.”
Tillis sighed and glanced at Kate before turning back to the nurse. “We have to talk to the doctor. Please. This man has a chance to save other lives. We have to see him.”
A woman in a white coat approached from beyond the corridor. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? You need to see the man who came in with third-degree burns over half of his body and is currently in surgery?”
Tillis turned to her. “Are you his doctor?”
“One of them. I performed triage before he went in for surgery.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Kate asked.
“He was unconscious.”
“When do you expect him to come out of surgery?” Kate pressed on.
“Assuming he survives, it could be hours. The extent of his injuries is, well, horrific,” the doctor replied.
Kate turned to Tillis. “Then we need to get back to the field office. There’s nothing more we can do here until he comes out.”
“If he comes out,” the doctor added.
Tillis grew distraught, thrusting his hands on his hips and eyeing the doctor. “We don’t have time. The more time that goes by, the bigger lead our bomber has on us. Doctor, please, is there anything you can do? Lives are at stake. You have to understand.”
