The Kill Season

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The Kill Season Page 23

by Robin Mahle


  A new day arrived and Mason Wylder lay atop a sheet of plastic under a blanket on his sofa. He peered down at his stomach, which had swollen to at least twice its size and was almost completely purple. He turned his sights back to Scott. “I’m not going to get out of this one, man. It’s over.”

  “Don’t say that. Let me get you to a hospital. It’s not too late.” It was an empty offer Scott knew would never be accepted. Risking a hospital visit where blood and DNA could be pulled wasn’t going to happen.

  “You know I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Why? No one knows anything.”

  Those FBI agents know something, and it would probably be enough to open an investigation. Nah man, it’s over.”

  Scott tried to hide his relief because Wylder was right, it was over, and he would soon be free of this monster. A monster he turned a blind eye to and even helped. What it meant was that Scott would be cleared. They would discover who the real killer was with Wylder’s DNA and that would be that.

  Mason held his gaze. “It was you, wasn’t it? You did this on purpose. You wanted me dead.”

  “No. No, that’s not true. It was an accident. The tire or something.”

  “You were trying to save your own ass and this was how you chose to do it. Hey man, I don’t blame you. I probably would’ve done the same thing. No, that’s not true. I would’ve just killed you straight up. We had something good going there for a while, though. You’ll be set, bro. Don’t you worry about that. Of course, you’ll have to explain why you didn’t get me to a hospital. Why you let me die right here on my own couch after dragging me through the streets in the middle of the night.”

  “At least I didn’t kill anyone.” Scott’s expression hardened. “I’ll let you sit here until you die. Then I’ll sort the rest out.” His attention turned toward the front door where keys jiggled in the lock.

  Wylder chuckled and coughed. “Did you forget about the housekeeper? What are you going to do, bro?”

  Scott stood in a panic. He hadn’t planned on anyone arriving here. “Shit.”

  “She’s coming in, man. You better think of something.”

  “Shut up!” Scott said.

  The door opened and a middle-aged woman entered. “Hola, señor. Good morning.” She continued inside until stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of Scott hovering over Wylder while he lay bleeding on the couch. She thrust her hand over her mouth to contain a scream. Her eyes darted between the men as she tried to comprehend what had happened. “Mr. Wylder? What happened? You need a doctor. Quick, you need to call a doctor,” she said to Scott.

  “He won’t be calling for any help, Mrs. Gonzales. But you might want to run the hell away from here.”

  Scott rushed her and tackled her to the ground before she could leave. He held his hand over her mouth. “Shhh. Shhh. Mrs. Gonzales, everything will be okay. I just need for you to be quiet, okay?”

  Her eyes imbued with fear as she nodded.

  “Okay. I’m going to take my hand away.” He pulled it slowly back. “Don’t scream or I’ll have to kill you.” He pointed to Wylder. “That man? Your boss? He’s the real killer here. I’m going to need you to trust that I know what I’m doing. Can you do that for me, Mrs. Gonzales?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Good.” He pulled her to her feet. “Everything will be clear soon enough. For now, though, I’m going to have to put you in the room.”

  “Por favor, no.”

  “I’m sorry. It has to be this way, but only for a little while.” He led her away but stopped when Wylder spoke.

  “Who’s the monster now, brother?”

  “Thanks for coming. I trust your flight was uneventful?” Detective Sievers was an NYPD veteran of 25 years and was the lead investigator on the missing woman who was the niece of a prominent Broadway director.

  “Hey man, no problem. It was fine and you’re doing us a favor.” Fisher returned the greeting. “These guys here are the real deal. This is Agent Kate Reid and Agent Noah Quinn. They’re our expert profilers. They can help us figure out who might’ve taken the young woman.”

  “Come on back, we’ll get started.” Sievers walked to his office which was near the entrance of the frenzied 10th Precinct. “I got a team working on the missing persons’ case, as you know, and so far, we got jack squat. So, with you guys jumping in the mix, I’m thinking we stand a better shot at finding this girl.” He held open the door while the agents entered.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you reached out to us lowly city cops, but you didn’t mention why the keen interest?” He gestured for them to sit. “Care to let me in on the joke?”

  “No joke here, I promise you that, detective,” Fisher said. “Look, I didn’t want to speak out of turn because we don’t have squat ourselves, but we got an interest thanks to some similar cases we’re working on an international level.”

  “What do you mean, international? What are you, the CIA?”

  Fisher explained what had happened in Rio and how they came to be involved there before going into more detail as to why they think there’s a connection to this case here in New York.

  “You gotta be shitting me, Fisher. Come on.” The detective swatted away the suggestion.

  “I wish I was shitting you. We’re working on DNA evidence as we speak. This is a matter of life and death, my friend.” And we’re going to need each other’s help to find her before it’s too late.”

  Sievers looked at the agents who were not laughing. He seemed to realize this was no joke. “Um, okay, yeah. So, where do you want to start?”

  “Priority will be to keep a lid on the suggestion this is the work of a famous actor. That gets out and all hell will break loose,” Fisher said.

  “This is the craziest damn thing I’ve heard, but if what you people are saying is true, we got ourselves a real barn burner of a case.”

  “Don’t I know it. We should take a look at your files and get started,” Fisher said.

  “Right here.” Sievers opened the file folder for the team to view a picture of the missing girl and all information they had to date. “As you can see, we got ourselves some pretty slim pickings, but now that you got a bonafide lead, we can open some doors.”

  Fisher pulled the file closer. “She’s nothing like the other victims.”

  “No,” Kate said. “Which leads me to believe this was nothing more than an opportunistic killing. I don’t think he intended for it to happen.”

  “I agree,” Quinn said. “He’s changed so much about his M.O. that I think we have no choice but to throw it completely out the window and move on the assumption he’s lost all control over his will power.”

  “What about the assistant? The one we suspect helped him lure in his victims?” Kate asked. “Was he there at the café?”

  “What’s his name? We talked to a lot of witnesses at that café already,” Sievers said.

  “We don’t have a name, only a vague description,” Quinn began. “What about talking to his co-stars? They’d know who his people are. We’d have ourselves a name to run.”

  “That would open a can of worms.” Fisher shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it could open this up for us, but if word got out he was being looked at, I don’t know, man. That might screw us.”

  “What about making a house call?” Kate asked. “Has anyone seen Wylder since the day the girl went missing? If he was there, why can’t we question him about the girl? It seems like a logical step in an investigation.”

  “She’s got a point,” Sievers said. “We could do that without risking him taking a flying leap out of here before hand.”

  “That could work,” Fisher began. “But you can’t be there, Reid. He’s seen you. He might not remember or put two and two together right away, but if he does, he’ll fly the coop for sure.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t need to be there, but Quinn should.”

  “Agreed.” Fisher turned his sights to Sievers. “You and Qui
nn should go. He’ll know what to ask and be able to analyze his response.”

  “Anyone know where he is?” Quinn asked.

  “That’s something we can dig up.” Sievers stood. “Let me get an answer right now.”

  “I’ll contact Scarborough and give him a heads up. Maybe see if he’s made any headway.” Fisher stepped into the corridor to make the call, closing the door behind him.

  “Thanks,” Quinn said.

  “What for?” Kate replied.

  “For acknowledging the fact that I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’ve never said you weren’t good at your job. I’ve been a champion of your work. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but I mean with all this going on between us…”

  “I would never let it interfere with an investigation. I thought you would’ve figured that out about me by now.”

  “I did know that. I also know what you’re truly capable of doing and that would far outshine anything I can do.”

  “That’s not true. I stand to learn a lot from you if you’d just let me.” She turned squarely to him, her eyes pleading. “Stop what you’re doing to further yourself this way. It will only backfire. If we were to truly work together, we could be an unstoppable team.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” he replied.

  “Then why? Why are you doing this to me and to Nick? This wasn’t how things started between us.”

  “You’re right. This wasn’t how it started, and it wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out.”

  “Then answer me. Why?” She waited for his response, which was slow to arrive.

  “Because you’re better than me. Better than I could ever be, and I don’t think I can accept that.”

  Kate nodded. “You never wanted to find a breakthrough with me. You wanted to become me. Well, I’ll tell you something, Quinn, being me isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. You think it’s easy living with what I’ve been through? Or that I use it to build up my own skills? I use the tragedy in my life, the loss of my friends and loved ones to understand the worst of humankind. What does that make me?”

  “It makes you as close to being one of them as you can be.”

  “You’re right. I see things others don’t—things you don’t. I thought it was just a sixth sense, but maybe it’s more. Maybe it’s something deeper and darker. That’s how I’m able to make the connections, find the missing clues. If that’s who you want to be, then be my guest because I’d really like you to understand how it feels.”

  “There can’t be two of us, Kate. I just don’t see how.”

  “Then who will be the one left standing?”

  25

  The high-rise apartment owned by Mason Wylder was the intended destination of NYPD Detective Sievers and his new-found companion, the FBI’s BAU profiler, Noah Quinn.

  Sievers stepped off the elevator and into corridor where he cast his sights along the white walls that blended in with the marble floor. The only color came from the sconces mounted on the wall. “Nice place. They said this was where he’d be.” He peered at Quinn. “Ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sievers knocked on the door with his badge in hand. Quinn was only a step or two behind him and had his hand on his sidearm.

  “Better give it another try.” He knocked again. “Mason Wylder? NYPD. We have some questions for you.”

  “That might scare him off,” Quinn said.

  “Only if he’s guilty. Besides, it’s looking like he’s not here after all.” Sievers retrieved his cell phone. “Fisher, he’s not here. Can you text me the address of his other residence? Thanks.” He peered at his phone. “Here it is. Okay, looks like we’ve got a little bit of a drive heading into the ‘burbs. Better get a move on.” He started toward the elevators once again and waited. “If he is our guy, I have a feeling we won’t find him.”

  They returned to Siever’s unmarked car and pulled out of the parking garage.

  “I wonder if Reid is having any luck at the studio.” He looked to Quinn. “You mind calling her to find out? Let her know we struck out here but are heading to his other residence.”

  “Can do.” Quinn picked up his phone. “Reid, it’s Quinn. Have you made it to the studio yet?”

  “I’m here now. I’ve talked to a few people. He’s not here and no one’s seen him in two days.”

  “Have they even heard from him? Did he call in sick or has he just been a no-show?” Quinn pressed on.

  “No show. In fact they were about to start making visits to his homes as well.”

  “Did you tell them we were heading there? We don’t want any of them involved in the real story,” Quinn replied.

  “I told them we had some people interested in talking to him since he was at the café when the girl went missing. They asked us to keep them posted. No one seemed overly concerned we were the ones asking questions. They’re more concerned about getting him back on set.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know what we find. Are you wrapping up there or what are your plans?” He asked.

  “I’ve got a few questions lined up for the director. We’ll see if that gets me anywhere. Otherwise, I’ll head back to the precinct and wait for you guys to return. Unless there’s anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of. We’ll speak soon.” Quinn ended the call. “She doesn’t have anything new.”

  “Okay. I hope we aren’t wasting our time going all the way there. I’m getting a bad vibe this is gonna end up a big fat goose egg.”

  “I thank you for your time, Mr. Hague,” Kate said. “If you do hear from him, please let him know it’s essential we speak to him regarding the young woman. He might have seen something without realizing it.”

  “Of course. Goodbye, Agent Reid.” The director shook her hand and returned to his stage.

  On her way out, a young woman caught up to her. “Excuse me, Agent Reid?”

  Kate stopped. “Yes?”

  “I’m Carey Phillips. I work with Mason. Not directly. My scenes don’t usually include him, but I know him.”

  Kate studied the young woman who wasn’t more than 22 or 23 at best. “Okay. Have you heard from him recently?”

  “Um, no, but.” Her eyes darted back and forth. “Could we talk for a moment?”

  “Of course.” She was led to a part of the studio toward the back that appeared empty. “What is it?”

  “Well, I’ve been to a few parties with Mason in the past.” She seemed reluctant to continue. “And I was with him in Rio last summer. Just as a house guest. I was only there for a couple of weeks. I don’t make the kind of money he does, and I can’t afford to go away for an entire summer.”

  “Sure. I understand.” Kate anticipated news but didn’t want to come on too strong. “Please, go on.”

  The woman with a short red bob and too-thin frame fidgeted with her hands. “Well, when I was there last year, Mason, well, he hosts a lot of parties and I thought maybe I might have seen something weird.” She kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

  “Carey, whatever you need to say, it’s okay to say it. I’m here to help. You won’t get in any trouble. I promise you,” Kate replied.

  “I was drinking kind of a lot, but I thought maybe I saw a woman who looked like she was hurt. Some of Mason’s people, like, threw her into this room and I didn’t see her after that. I don’t know what happened to her. I just kept on drinking and then went home.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I should’ve said something. I didn’t know. I mean, what if he took that girl? What if it’s my fault cause I didn’t say anything?”

  Kate reached out for her. “It’s not your fault. Now, we don’t know if Mason is responsible for the missing girl. We only want to talk to him because he was at that café. But if what you’re saying is true, then I imagine we’ll want to have a sit-down with him and figure all this out. Is there anything else you can think of that you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

  Carey shook her head. “That’s all
I know.”

  “Okay. Thank you. I can’t tell you how important your cooperation is. If we need anything, I’ll give you a call, and vice-versa.” Kate handed her a business card. “You should go take a breather and relax a minute. You’ll be fine. You’ve done the right thing.”

  She nodded and walked away.

  Kate marched across the studio, phone in hand, and pushed through the exit doors. With her phone to her ear, she began. “Are you two there yet?”

  “No. It’s still a few miles away.”

  “Listen, can you hang tight? I’m not far and I want to be there. Actually, we should track down Fisher too. He’s still at the precinct working on the files. We’ve got ourselves some new information.”

  “And that is?” Quinn asked.

  “I just got some very interesting news from one of Wylder’s co-stars. She saw something in Rio. Can you just wait? I won’t be but a few minutes behind you. I want to see his reaction when I bring her up.”

  “I’m with Detective Sievers, this is his show,” Quinn said.

  “Please, Quinn. I’m asking you. Can you wait? I need to be there. I need to see his face to know the truth.”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  The line went dead and she peered at her phone. “You just hung up on me. Are you serious?” Kate made her way to the car and pulled out onto the road, heading north. “You screwed up, Wylder.”

  Sievers checked the time. “Christ. How much longer are we going to have to wait?” He peered through the rear view in search of the other agents.

  “We don’t have to wait. We can go in and do this ourselves. I don’t know why she’s being so adamant about it,” Quinn replied. “She had to go back at get Fisher too. She could be a while still.”

  “Hang on. That looks like them now.”

  Fisher rolled to a stop behind Siever’s car. They stepped out and approached him while he rolled down the window.

  “Welcome. Glad you could join us.”

  “Thanks for waiting,” Kate began. “I know we agreed I shouldn’t be here because he’ll recognize me, but with this new information, I need to see his reaction. I have to understand how calculating he is or can be. He’ll reveal something about the woman in the café. He won’t be able to stop himself.”

 

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