The Kill Season

by Robin Mahle

Scott searched for his phone that had been inside the center console but was no longer. He didn’t know the extent of his own injuries but felt a stabbing pain in his right leg. Blood soaked through his ripped jeans and exposed a wide gash. A piece of the console split and sliced his leg. But could he muster the strength to drag Mason out of the car and hobble a mile or two back to Wylder’s home? All without being seen?

  The phone was on the floorboard by his feet. With great effort, Scott retrieved it, noticing the screen had been shattered. “Please work.” He pressed the button and the screen flickered on but was nearly impossible to read. “Thank you.” The goal wasn’t to call for emergency services, that was certain. It was merely to get a location and point them in the right direction. With the shattered screen, he tried to read Google Maps but couldn’t. “Damn it.” Onto Plan B, which was to wing it, like he had from the moment he saw the director’s niece murdered.

  “No cops,” Wylder mumbled.

  “I’m not an idiot.” Scott shot back at him. “We’re going to walk back to your house. I think it’s a mile and a half, maybe two at the most. Can you walk?”

  Mason tested his legs. First the right, that one seemed okay, then the left. “Ah!” He wailed with pain.

  “I guess I have my answer. Shit.” Scott tried to open the driver’s side door, but it was stuck. He thrust his shoulder against it and his eyes clouded over with tears from the pain. “Come on. Open!” He tried again. “Open!” Another slam against the door and this time, it pushed open just enough. Scott slipped out, dragging his injured leg behind him.

  He examined the car and couldn’t understand how Mason survived, or either of them for that matter. The beautiful silver Mercedes was nothing more than a heap of twisted metal. Scott was supposed to be the sole survivor. That was the plan. A blown tire, failed brakes, any reason he could find would have sufficed. The cops would’ve bought it, too.

  Now that Wylder had survived, Scott would have to devise another plan. He could leave Wylder here and hope he just died, but knowing his luck, some good Samaritan would stop to help. Perhaps pulling him out of the car and leaving him down farther on the hill where he wouldn’t be seen? No. That wouldn’t work either because chances were, Mason could manage to call for help.

  Only one solution seemed obvious. Kill Wylder here and hitch a ride to a hospital, claiming his companion died at the scene. A simple hand over his mouth would do it. Wylder was too injured and too weak to fend off the attack.

  Scott dragged his leg behind him and limped toward the passenger side. The door was jammed, just like his had been. The entire front end of the car was crushed, and it had bent the frame so the doors were fixed. He pulled hard on the handle, releasing a painful grunt as he tugged. Another pull and it creaked open. Scott pulled harder on the door until it opened enough to pull out Mason. “Come on. Let’s go.” As he peered at the psychotic killer who looked at him with eyes full of pain, he decided he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the balls to kill someone with his bare hands, not even this man. He was a coward and had been since the beginning of this vile arrangement.

  “Wait! Wait!” Mason protected his body with his arms as Scott reached inside. “I’m really fucking hurt here, man.”

  “I have to get you out of here, Mason. It’s only a matter of time before someone comes and sees the car. We have to go now.” He tried again and this time, with one arm under Mason’s shoulder and another wrapped around him, he pulled. “You gotta help me, man!” Scott groaned as he pulled Mason from the vehicle and dropped him to the ground.

  Mason winced and held onto this stomach. “Stop! I’m really messed up.”

  “I know you are, that’s why I’m trying to get you out.”

  “No. Really. Something’s really wrong here.” Mason pulled away his arm.

  Scott looked down at Mason’s torn shirt. “Oh shit.” Mason’s stomach was black and blue and swelling quickly. “Dude, you’re bleeding internally.” Maybe this was his out. Mason was going to die of internal injuries, and Scott would be freed. His plan wouldn’t have failed. But he still couldn’t leave him here on the side of the road. He might be enough of an evil bastard to survive. “You’re going to have to help me get you up. Once we get to where we’re going, I’ll call our people for help.”

  Mason pushed up on one side and tried to sit up. Scott was finally able to pull him back to his feet and the two started south.

  Agent Elijah Cain was awakened by the vibration of his phone on his bedside table. He peered at his wife who had not yet been disturbed before he reached for it and sat up in bed. He answered the line as he walked into the hall. “Yeah?”

  “I have a message for you from your friend in Rocinha.”

  Cain furrowed his brow as he shook off his sleep. “Who?”

  “De la Costa.”

  At this, Cain stopped at attention. “I’m listening.”

  “Your man did not show up as he promised yesterday. Are we to assume he no longer wants the answers he seeks?”

  “Funny you should bring it up.” Cain continued into the kitchen as he grew more alert. “Circumstances prevented him from keeping said promise as his life and the lives of his colleagues, including my own, were placed in imminent danger. We were forced to revise our plans.”

  “Yes. We assumed that was the case. Your people have made powerful enemies during their short time in our beautiful city.”

  Cain placed his mug under the dispenser and waited for the single-cup brewer to finish. “Are you telling me you have the answers we need?”

  “I’m saying that if you want those answers, we would like to make a deal.”

  “We had a deal.”

  “That’s correct. However, it is my understanding that Inspector Varela still lives. That was not the deal.”

  “So what do you want? Varela is being protected by those who attempted to harm my people. There is nothing I can do about that.”

  “Then if you wish to discover who killed the women of Rocinha, we will need the FBI’s assurances that the military police will rescind their troops and leave us to govern the favela as we see fit.”

  Cain laughed. “You can’t be serious. I have no clout with the military police and even if I did, they wouldn’t do as you ask. That’s an impossible request and I think you and your people know that. So, I think we’re done with this conversation. Unless you have something more realistic in mind.”

  There was silence on the other end before the man finally continued. “This will be an enormous victory for Rio’s civil police should you find the person responsible. That said, at the very least, we would wish to establish parameters in an effort to maintain the status quo when the world discovers what has happened in our little favela.”

  “That is something within my capacity. An agreement could be reached with all interested parties if you provide the necessary details.” Cain sipped on his coffee. “Do you know who killed those women? Because if not, you’re wasting my time and I don’t take kindly to those who waste my time.”

  “The man you are looking for is Mason Wylder.”

  “The actor?” Cain asked.

  “Yes. He visits Rio every summer. The past two, maybe three summers, he has taken and murdered the women of Rocinha, for what reason, I cannot speculate except to satisfy a tortured soul.”

  Cain was silent as he processed the information. “Do you have proof of this?” He was already well aware that the new samples had DNA but had no match in the FBI’s database.

  “We will ensure the release of every known victim to submit to your doctors for testing. I am sure you will find the evidence you seek.”

  “How soon can you make this happen?”

  “Today. Provided we reach an agreement.”

  “Of course. I’ll start making the calls now. When will I hear back from you?”

  “Four hours.”

  “I’ll need more time than that. What you’ve asked requires coordination on a very high level.”

&nb
sp; “Four hours. Or you have no deal.” The line went dead.

  “Great. I’ll get right on that.” Cain set his phone down and walked into the living room. He gazed out onto the rising sun from his small house in Brasilia. “I think I just made a deal with the devil.”

  The morning haze hung low and steamy as Fisher approached the BAU building while he spoke on his phone. “If you can pull it off, I’d like to take a look at the file you have on the missing woman from the café. I have a feeling it could coincide with a case I’m working right now.” He listened. “Great. Hey, thanks, man. It’s good to know I still have some buddies in the NYPD.” He ended the call and walked inside.

  Fisher walked onto the elevators and as the doors parted on the offices of his cohorts, he marched directly to Scarborough to relay the news. He stopped in the doorway upon noticing Scarborough was on his phone.

  With a raised index finger, Scarborough held off Fisher for a moment. “Can you pull that off?” He continued. “It seems risky.” Scarborough nodded. “Okay. Keep me posted.” He ended the call. “Morning. Come in. That was Cain. He says he was contacted by De La Costa with the AdA. They are offering a deal. Proof that Wylder is the one who killed the women in Rocinha.”

  “What do they want in return? They’ve burned us before.” Fisher walked inside and sat down.

  “They want to keep the status quo. Make sure that nothing changes inside the favela.”

  “Cain has the ability to pull that off?” Fisher continued.

  “He’s going to try. So, if he gets them what they want, they’ve agreed to have the coroner release the victims to us for autopsy.”

  “That would virtually guarantee we get a match to the samples we already provided,” Fisher replied.

  Scarborough nodded. “And if that’s the case…”

  “Game over,” Fisher said.

  Working with Quinn solo was an arduous task for Kate. But it was her job and she had to push aside the underhanded deeds he’d done in an effort to exploit her for his own personal gains.

  As they convened in Quinn’s office, it appeared he had seen the toll his behavior had taken on her. He sat at his desk and held her gaze for a moment. “This isn’t going to work anymore, is it? You and me?”

  “I don’t see how it can. I wish that wasn’t the case.”

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “I’ll request a transfer after this investigation. And if you continue to try to blackmail Nick, I’ll let it be known you gathered your information against him through illicit means. I don’t know who you paid off, but I’ll find out.” She knew the source but had no idea if it was illegal. “He’s done nothing but try to work with you.”

  “He’s made decisions based on his relationship with you. That’s a problem in my eyes,” Quinn replied. “And he’s damaged your career as a result. You could have been so much more than what you are.”

  Heat began to rise under her collar. “How can you say that? I’ve been at the Bureau for what, five years? And I’m with the BAU now. That’s almost unprecedented. I’m an apprentice for the best profile the Bureau has and yet you tell me that I’ve squandered my career? That Nick has squandered it?” She’d complimented him inadvertently, but it was true, and she couldn’t deny Quinn was the best she’d ever worked with.

  “I just think he keeps you too close. His decisions are based on how it will impact you, not an investigation.”

  “I don’t agree…” She pressed on.

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  “Then what do you expect, Noah? For me to just roll over and let you take advantage of a past I’ve worked hard to keep private? You have no idea the nightmares I’ve faced down.”

  “I was hoping to learn from them. To help you use them to your advantage.”

  “You mean to help you use them to your advantage.” Kate was growing tired of this same conversation. “Look, what’s done is done. There’s nothing that can heal this divide between us. You’ve left me with no choice. I wanted to be here. I chose to be put up for this position and you put me through the wringer to get it. I thought that was enough. I can see I was wrong.”

  Quinn stood from his desk and paced the room. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go. You have to know that.” He stopped and turned to her. “Can I do anything, at this point, to fix it?”

  “Is that what you want? To fix the fact that you went to a former colleague to dig up dirt on Nick? That you in effect insisted I work with you on a paper for you to publish that would expose everything I’ve gone through? How do you fix that, Noah? How the hell can you fix that?”

  He appeared taken aback. “How did you know about that?”

  “I know the same way you knew to go to her in the first place. We both took drastic measures, it seems. And it also seems I’m the only one willing to give up my position to save the team. What happens when Cole finds out about all this? And he will, believe me. Even if I’m gone. Even if Nick’s gone. Cole will know what went down. How do you think you’ll come out of it?”

  Quinn huffed. “I see. You have put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you? You’d blow up your own career to sabotage mine.”

  “You sabotaged your career. This was all your doing, not mine.” She sat upright in the chair and held his gaze with firm contempt. “The ball’s in your court, Quinn. How are you going to play it?”

  24

  The rap on Quinn’s office door dissolved the strain between he and Kate as he responded with an invitation to enter. Fisher walked in and appeared to catch on to the idea he had just stepped in the middle of something. “Sorry to interrupt. Can you two come with me? I’ve got a friend at NYPD who’s working the case on the missing woman from the cafe. He’d like to talk, and I’d like to have my two greatest assets with me.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn peered at Kate. “That’s a very good idea.”

  “Good. Meet me in the lobby in five minutes. I’ll drive us to the airport. Our flight leaves in 2 hours.” He traded glances between them. “Are we good here?”

  “We’re good. See you in five,” Kate replied. She waited for Fisher to leave. “I think the best thing now is to put this on the backburner. The team needs us to be on our game. I won’t be the one to let them down.” She turned to leave. “See you downstairs.”

  Kate continued into the corridor where she walked back to her office to gather her things. As she was about to head back out, Nick entered.

  “Hey. I hear you’re going with Fisher to New York to see the detective?”

  “Yes. I don’t know how long we’ll be, so keep in touch and let me know if anything comes back from the labs.”

  “Will do. I should hear something in the next few hours. We did get some good news. Cain’s working a deal with the AdA for them to give us proof it was Mason Wylder who killed the women. I don’t know if he can pull it off, but if he does, their coroner will release the victims to our doctors.”

  “We aren’t transporting the victims here, are we? They aren’t US citizens.”

  “No. Cain’s got a trusted forensic doctor who will perform the autopsies in Rio—at another facility. His samples will be turned over to us for analysis.”

  “That could take another week. Nick, we don’t have that kind of time.”

  “You’re right, but we can’t afford not to do this. Even if we get evidence on Wylder, additional evidence will only strengthen the case.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Listen, I’d better head down to the lobby. Fisher’s waiting.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

  “I’ll get over it. I have a job to do. I just hope Quinn remembers that. Talk to you later.” She continued on, not looking back. The two most significant men in her life were causing her the worst stress she’d faced in years. It was all coming to a head. Once this case was over, a decision would need to be made and Kate felt as though she’d already made hers. But what would Quinn do?

/>   “Sorry to keep you.” Kate walked into the lobby to see Fisher and Quinn waiting.

  “No worries. Let’s go.” Fisher led the way to the parking lot and into his car. “So this detective is a veteran. I never worked with him directly, but I know of him. His reputation is stellar. He’s doing us a favor, so we need to keep that in mind.”

  “I hope it leads somewhere. Pinning everything on a napkin and waiting for Cain to pull off a miracle doesn’t put us in a good position,” Kate replied.

  “Let’s roll.” Fisher started the car and pulled out of the lot and through the gates of Quantico.

  “Seems odd to me, given how high-profile Wylder is, that they don’t have more tips from others at the cafe,” Quinn said.

  “I think the reality is, no one would ever believe Mason Wylder was a killer. It just doesn’t connect. So they aren’t seeing it as even a remote concern that he was seen with that missing woman on the day she went missing,” Fisher replied.

  “And we have the advantage already knowing that Wylder has someone who works for him who was seen near the burial ground in Rio. We’ve already established a link to Wylder,” Kate replied.

  “Not yet. Duncan will make the connection through the phone records. I’m sure of it.” Fisher continued on the drive. “And what Cain has, we might start pulling ahead on this one.”

  “I hope your detective can lead us to something viable. We need it.” Kate stopped and peered at Quinn in the back seat. “With what we know now, what Quinn has derived at, his impulses have led him astray. It’s not looking like he’s going to stop voluntarily.”

  Quinn nodded. “If it’s Wylder, and it seems very likely at the moment, then he’s lost control. And the man with him? He has to be the fixer.”

  “Does the detective know the connection to Rio?” Kate asked.

  “I’ve kept that under wraps for now,” Fisher replied. “If it turns out they have something worthwhile, I’ll let them in on the situation.”