His Good Deeds (Kate Reid Thrillers Book 13)

by Robin Mahle

  The doctor approached before she had a chance to respond.

  “You all are with the FBI?”

  “Those two are. I’m ATF. What’s the good word, Doc? Our victim in good enough shape to talk?” Stallard asked.

  The surgeon pressed together his lips until they formed a thin white line. “If I had my way, I’d say absolutely not. That man has third degree burns over most of his body. He’s pumped up with all kinds of pain meds. Frankly, I should put my foot down.”

  “But then we have a bomber still at large,” Tillis added. “And your patient might be able to identify him. I appreciate where you’re coming from, Doctor, I really do. But more lives are at stake.”

  The doctor appeared resigned. “Fine. But only one of you goes in. I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”

  “I’ll do it.” Tillis didn’t let anyone reply and started ahead. “Show me the way, Doc.”

  Kate stood in the middle of the lobby and dipped her head.

  Stallard noticed. “He just wants to get to the bottom of this. We all do.”

  “I understand that. I just don’t know how reliable the victim is going to be and if Tillis pushes him…”

  “All we can do is wait, Reid. I hear your team got a lead on a company called PivoTech.”

  “That’s right. They’re working on it now. And your guys found a gun shop employee who ID’d the unsub,” she added.

  “It’s shaky and I have an aversion to unreliable witnesses. But an employee thought he recognized the man in our video as the man who bought the powder. We’re looking for more shops and if we can get another hit, then I’ll feel more confident we’re dealing with the same man. It’s still a lot of circumstantial evidence right now. Not unless or until that man in the hospital bed tells us otherwise.”

  15

  The words uttered in Danny’s ears hardly registered. His mind obsessed about the consequences of Jeff surviving the blast. But as he sat in front of his computer, listening to a woman with no idea how to work a laptop, let alone the internet, she repeated her question.

  “Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” she asked.

  Danny blinked. “Yes. I’m here. You’ll have to turn off your laptop and restart it. If that doesn’t work, I’ll need remote access to it so I can see what’s going on.” He could hear her mumbling and keys being punched, but all he wanted to do was to drive to that hospital and find out if Jeff had talked to the police. “Just calm down. He won’t remember you.”

  “I’m sorry?” the woman asked. “I am calm, thank you very much and I’d appreciate you not taking that tone with me.”

  Danny closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I can’t do this shit.” He cut the call and ripped off his headset. With a quick search, he found the story online, but it still read that it was a developing situation. Meaning they didn’t know if Jeff was alive or dead. “Son of a bitch.” He jumped from his chair and paced the kitchen. Sweat formed at his hairline and his pulse quickened. “Don’t panic.” Somehow, as smart as he was, he hadn’t planned for this to happen. There were to be no survivors. “No one knows who you are. You jammed the cameras. You did everything right.” He spun around as if arguing with himself. “Then why is he still alive!” A purple vein on Danny’s forehead raised and his face reddened. With his fists clenched, Danny roared. The primal broadcast echoed throughout the empty house.

  He couldn’t just wait for the cops to bust down his door. Something had to be done. He had to leave. It wasn’t safe for him here anymore. Danny took wide strides up the stairs and ran into his bedroom. A duffle bag lay in his closet and he snatched it from the floor, tossing it onto his bed. He grabbed whatever clothes were in his dresser and threw them inside it. The room spun and there wasn’t enough air to breathe. Danny’s hands trembled as he filled the bag with whatever he could find.

  Inside the bathroom, he yanked open the medicine cabinet and took everything. And on closing the cabinet again, he stared at his reflection. Sweaty, his curly blonde hair that hung in one length to his chin, clung to his cheeks. The whites of his eyes were lined with red veins. Panic set in. Danny reached the edge of the cliff, but would he jump?

  Agent Tillis remerged from the hospital corridor, capturing Stallard’s attention. He nudged Kate. “Here he comes. Fingers crossed.”

  Kate watched him approach but he had the most unreadable face she’d ever seen on anyone. No hints revealed as to how the interview went. As he neared, she swallowed hard and waited for him to speak.

  Tillis kept his head low and his hands in his pockets. He tilted up his gaze as he stopped in front of them, and the corner of his mouth raised slightly. “He recognized him.”

  Stallard licked his lips as if anticipating a juicy steak dinner. “And? Did he give us a name?”

  “Danny. He said the man’s name was Danny. I tried to get more out of him, but he went into cardiac arrest. They couldn’t bring him back. He’s gone.”

  Kate put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes for a moment. She took in a deep breath and with her shoulders back, she continued. “Under no circumstances can we let this get out to the media. This is our chance. Danny, you said?” She eyed Tillis for a moment. “He’s on edge. He doesn’t know what condition his victim is in or whether he talked to the authorities. The moment he learns Jeff Hardy is dead, we lose our advantage. He’ll think he got lucky and redouble his efforts, making zero mistakes in the future.”

  “I agree,” Stallard replied. “We’re coming at this from three different angles, and now we have a name. If he thinks we’re as close as we are…”

  “He’ll go dark,” Tillis replied. “Let me take care of the media. I’ll get with my ASAC and make sure this doesn’t get leaked.” He peered outside. “Which might be tougher than we think.”

  Kate spotted the media van through the glass doors. “Shit. Is there a back exit? We have to get out of here.”

  Stallard walked to the front desk. “Hey, uh, we can’t talk to those guys out there right now. Any chance someone can show us a way out through the back?”

  The nurse peered through the entrance doors and picked up the phone. “Yes, of course. I’ll take care of that for you.” When the line answered, she continued. “Hank, you mind coming up to the lobby? I have some federal agents who need to slip away before the media hounds them to death. Thanks.” She returned her attention to Stallard. “Hank is our head of security. He’ll get you guys out.”

  “Appreciate you.” He offered her a sincere smile and headed back to the others. “We’re about to be escorted out of here.”

  The lobby doors opened and a man with a microphone hurried inside, followed by a camera man. He spotted the agents, whose appearance did little to deny their roles. “Excuse me? Stuart Ramon, Action News Four, are you the FBI? What do you know about the latest Robinhood victim?” He thrust a microphone in Kate’s face while motioning for his camera man to move in.

  She wanted to shove the microphone right back at him and tell him how he was glorifying a murderer. But Kate had learned better. For years she’d faced off with the press who were never kind, with the exception of Marc Aguilar, though their relationship had been strained in the beginning. Now Marc was a big-time reporter in New York City. “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

  The security guard approached and waved them over. “Right this way.”

  As they hurried alongside the guard, the unabashed reporter continued to trail them. “Wait. I just want to ask how he’s doing. Is the victim still alive? Can you give us a name? Was it the so-called Robinhood bomber?”

  Another guard quickly cut him off as the agents entered the hall. “That’s enough. Get your story somewhere else.”

  Kate glanced back over her shoulder and noticed the guard had stopped him. “We’re clear.”

  “Right through here, folks.” Hank pushed open the door. “You’d better hurry. They can smell you from a mile away.”

  Tillis smiled. “You’re
a good man, Hank.” He looked at Stallard as they made their way outside. “Any chance you’re parked back here?”

  “I didn’t think that far in advance. We’ll have to slip by while the reporter is in the lobby.”

  They hurried to their respective cars and Kate slipped onto the passenger seat, waiting for Tillis.

  “Christ, I can’t stand those people.” Tillis closed his door and keyed the ignition. “I know they have a job to do, but sons of bitches don’t know when to keep their mouths shut.”

  “I have some experience with them on that front,” Kate replied.

  Tillis pulled away. “It was a good call to keep this from them—the media. It’s like you know what you’re doing.”

  “What can I say? I get lucky sometimes.” She smiled.

  He cast her a sheepish glance. “I know I can be a little intense at times. Don’t take it personally. I’m like that with everyone. You and your team know what you’re doing. I’m sorry for coming off so strong.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She paused for a moment. “Hey, do we know if the Hardy explosion was livestreamed like the others?”

  “If it was, he didn’t seem aware of it. Made no mention.” He took in a long breath. “He couldn’t say a lot anyway. Not the way he looked.” Tillis cleared his throat as if to shake the image from his mind. “But when I showed him the picture, he whispered to me the name, Danny. He also asked me to tell his wife he loved her.”

  “He was married? Another first for Danny. None of the other victims were. Have the police contacted her yet?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll get on that when we get back to the office.”

  “She’d be the first one to come forward if it was livestreamed. Makes me think he didn’t do that this time.” Kate gazed through the passenger window. “Why would he have chosen someone who was married?”

  “I don’t think anything about this guy is taking me by surprise anymore. There seems to be no rhyme or reason for how he chooses his victims. Male, female, rich. Shadyside is a pretty upscale area, so I’m thinking Hardy had some cash.”

  Kate nodded. “Maybe it won’t matter soon enough, depending on what ATF uncovers.”

  Tillis pulled into the field office parking lot. “Until he’s in our custody, everything about the bomber matters.”

  They returned inside to find Duncan and Surrey still poring over the records in the operations room.

  “Danny,” Tillis said. “His first name is Danny and that’s all I got from the victim because he died moments later.”

  “Oh, no,” Duncan whispered. “He didn’t tell you anything else?”

  “He did, but it’s something reserved for his wife,” Tillis added.

  “He was married?” Surrey asked. “That’s a first.”

  “And I doubt it will be the last.” Tillis walked toward them.

  Duncan reached for a piece of paper on the table. “We found the same calls were made to PivoTech with all three victims. I’m not sure we need to wait to see if Jeff Hardy’s records show the same. Frankly, this is enough for me. Surrey and I have been working our way through the ranks at PivoTech to try to get someone who has the authority to give us employee information.”

  “And?” Kate asked.

  “We’re getting the runaround. It might be time to hit them with a subpoena. Especially now.” Duncan looked at Tillis. “Can you make that happen quickly?”

  “I’ll get it done.” Tillis turned on his heel and walked out.

  Kate waited until he left to continue. “The media is out in full force on this one. Tillis agreed to get his boss to keep the status of the victim quiet. We need the bomber to think the victim is still alive.”

  “He’ll squirm. He’ll get desperate,” Surrey replied. “I agree. Once that happens, he’ll start getting sloppy.”

  “What concerns me more is that he might go bigger thinking he has nothing left to lose,” Duncan added. “We should take that into consideration as well.”

  Kate eyed her. “I’d like to see where Fisher stands on the matter.”

  “Then let’s make the call.” Duncan dialed the number and put the call on speaker. The line rang and a moment later, he answered. “Fisher, it’s Duncan. I’m here with Reid and Surrey. You’re on speaker.”

  “How’s things going up there?” he asked.

  “We’re closing in on our unsub,” Kate began. “The latest victim lived long enough to give us a first name. But I made the call to ask the field office to keep quiet about the victim’s death. Duncan brought up a good point.” Kate nodded for her to continue.

  “I’m afraid if we do keep this quiet before we have a chance to move in, he might decide the victim talked and realize he’s out of time, making his actions even more unpredictable,” Duncan said. “We’d like to get your thoughts.”

  “Surrey, you there?” Fisher asked.

  He leaned in. “I’m here.”

  “Reid wants to keep the unsub in the dark. Keep him questioning whether he’s about to be found. Duncan thinks that could backfire. What do you think?”

  Surrey traded glances with his team. “Well, I’m not sure either would happen. He could be scared. Scared enough to pull the plug and take off. This kid, he sees what he wants to see about his victims. I think if we’re going to try to keep him on the hook, we might need to play up to that.”

  “How so?” Fisher asked.

  “We keep the media on their current narrative. He’s watching the news. Until we learn more from the wife, we can have them play up the fact that the man lived in a wealthy part of town. Drove an expensive car. These are the things he wants to hear, that he killed someone who was everything he isn’t. It may be the only way we keep him on an even keel.”

  “ATF is working on linking the purchase of the components to the unsub,” Duncan cut in. “That’s crucial right now and could be the nail in his coffin. Point is, do we keep quiet the fact that Jeff Hardy is dead until we can pursue these other leads?”

  “Keep it quiet,” Fisher began. “While it does present a risk, to Duncan’s point, it could keep him in one spot long enough to work on an exit strategy. Might buy you all enough time that it’ll work in your favor. I think word gets out that the victim died, there’s a chance he’ll go after someone else believing he got away with it again.”

  Surrey nodded. “You’re the boss.”

  “Thanks, Fisher. We’ll keep you posted.” Duncan ended the call. “There you go.”

  Tillis returned to them. “Okay, we’re getting a subpoena now. Should be within the hour and we’ll be able to get the names of the customer service staff at PivoTech.” His phone rang again. “Oh, hang on. We might have something here.” He answered the call. “Tillis here. Yeah. You did? Great, what is it?” He nodded. “Okay. 2010. Got it. Hey, man, thanks for this.” He ended the call and peered at the team. “Now that we have a positive ID on Danny, we can run the name against the owners of a 2010 white Ford Focus. This whole thing might be over by tonight.”

  From his car, Danny peered at the doors of the hospital where Jeff Hardy had been taken. Some reporter stood outside the hospital earlier when they went to him live for an update. It was pretty easy to figure out where Jeff was after that.

  It had been four hours and Danny still had no idea if Jeff was dead or alive. Did it even matter at this point? The police hadn’t come pounding on his door. If Jeff talked, they would’ve by now, or at least put his face out there for all to see. Maybe he was in the clear, or maybe it was time to cut bait. He’d risked a lot going after Jeff. He recognized now that he’d lost control of his impulses and was now paying the price for it. The thing was, he couldn’t leave without Mel. He had to protect himself and he had to protect her. There was no job to go back to at PivoTech. They would’ve fired him after what he’d done today. No job meant no money. “Think.” He pounded his palm against the side of his head and looked up when an idea struck.

  Danny picked up the phone in the cent
er console. Jeff Hardy’s life was copied onto that phone. “Someone had to have posted something on his page.” He scrolled through the social media posts and stopped. “His wife.” He’d learned about Jeff’s wife after he hacked into his Facebook account. Not that it mattered much to him. It wasn’t like he had kids. But there it was, a post from his wife. His face wore relief. “He’s dead. Okay. This is good. This was how it was supposed to go.” He looked again at the post.

  “Jeff was a victim of the so-called Robinhood bomber, but whoever it is, murdered my husband. Please keep our family in your prayers.” her post read.

  “Whoever it is,” Danny began. “They don’t know. They don’t know it’s me.”

  16

  When ATF Agent Chris Stallard reached the entrance, he smirked at the sign posted on the glass door. “Guns allowed.” He walked inside the gun shop located near the north end of town after learning that his team had picked up on a possible sighting of the bomber. Stallard took it upon himself to find out if the man they now suspected to be named Danny had been there. Having a second witness to the same man buying the same materials made for a strong correlation.

  With his badge in hand, he approached the cashier’s station. “ATF. Is the owner available to speak to?”

  “Uh, yes, sir. I’ll go get him.” The young man hurried into the back.

  Stallard surveyed the shop. Rifles, ammunition, hunting gear. He was a gun enthusiast himself, and an expert in explosives. No surprise, then, his choice of career.

  An older stocky gentleman approached with his hand extended. “Hello. I’m Roger Hayes, the owner. You must be Agent Stallard.”

  “That’s me.” Stallard accepted the greeting. “As discussed, I’m here to talk about the young man who came into your store recently.”

  “Of course. As I told one of your agents, a man in his early 20s came in looking for powder. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Lots of people buy powder. But there was something different about him.” Hayes pushed up his eyeglasses.