There was nothing good in the first folder, nor the second. But the third held a treasure trove—close-ups of weapons, cabins equipped with root cellars, walls lined with lockers and shelves full of dried foods, and a group photograph.
“Ah, here we go.” Sam blew the picture up. There were about twenty-five people in the photo, and each person held either a gun or a tool of some sort, except for a young teenager front and center who held a flag. It was blue and white with an embroidered columbine framed by snowcapped mountains.
Ledbetter, one of the taller people in the camp, was in the back row. Sam was surprised by how many children there were—at least six, by her count.
Xander was staring at the photo.
“Do you see your friend?”
“No, he’s not in this. Must have been taken while he was overseas. Go close up on the girl in the front. She looks familiar.”
Sam dragged her fingers across the photo again, making the girl bigger.
“Who do you think she is?”
“Look at her eyes, the shape of her face. Then look at Ledbetter.”
Sam compared the two, swiping back and forth on the picture. There was a distinct resemblance between the two. The girl was wearing a baseball cap, so it was impossible to see the color of her hair, but her mother’s fiery red tresses stood out. If you imagined them haloing the girl’s face, the likeness was clear. Sam thought back to the photo she’d seen on Facebook but couldn’t make a visual connection.
“Ledbetter has a daughter,” she said. “But she wasn’t mentioned in the book as a member of the group. George told me they were estranged and she inherits everything.”
“Could have been trying to keep her family life private.”
“That’s true.” Sam stared at the photo a few moments longer, then backed out to the main screen and did a search for “Loa.” Multiple folders popped up, and Sam went through several of them. They left no doubt. The girl in the photo was definitely Ledbetter’s daughter.
“Answers that,” Xander said.
“Yeah.” Sam went back to the main screen and another folder caught her eye. Africa. 1990. Ah, that must be where the photo Ledbetter used most prominently, her winning smile as she was surrounded by Maasi tribesmen, resided.
Sam clicked open the folder and started scrolling through the pictures. She was near the bottom when she recognized another face. Her excitement began to build.
“Xander, look at this.”
He set down his coffee and leaned in close. She could smell him, the indefinable scent of man coupled with the lemon soap his mother left in the shower for them and the barely perceptible tang of his sweat. She took a deeper breath, just for the pleasure of it. He smelled good, and she had to check herself from snuggling up against him. Pheromones were a fascinating thing.
As if he sensed her sudden lust, he set his hand on her forearm, making a connection between them. A promise for later.
“What am I looking at?”
“Third man from the right. Sort of angled away from the camera. Is that who I think it is?”
He stared at the photo for a minute. “I think it is. How about that.”
“How about that indeed. Ledbetter and Leighton were in Africa together in 1990.”
* * *
Sam scrolled through some more pictures, hoping to find a smoking gun, but the one with Leighton in the background was the only photo she could find that proved they were in the same place at the same time. It was a tenuous thread at best, but a thread nonetheless.
She dialed the number of Ledbetter’s office, hoping to catch George. She was in luck, and he came to the phone after just a few moments.
“Dr. Owens. It’s lovely to hear from you. What can I help you with?”
“Hello, George. Do you mind if I put you on speaker? I have someone here who needs to hear our conversation. His name is Xander Whitfield, he’s a former Army sergeant who is familiar with the Blue and Gray.”
“That’s convenient. You’ve been busy.”
“We’re tracking down a few leads. And as it happens, he’s my significant other.”
“By all means, then. If you trust him, I do, as well.”
“Thank you.” She hit the speaker. The cafe was crowded enough that the background noise would cover their conversation, but they were off in a quiet corner, so they were still able to hear.
“I’ve been going through the photographs, and I have a couple of questions. I found a group photo of Dr. Ledbetter’s time with the Mountain Blue and Gray. I wasn’t aware that her daughter had been on the excursion with her.”
“Ah. Yes, she decided to keep that part of the story out of the book. It’s the reason they’re estranged, actually.”
“Really? Can you tell me more?”
She heard him closing a door. Discretion. George was a commendable employee. Sam really needed to find a way to steal him for herself.
“This was before my time, so I’ve only got pieces of the story. You read the memoir?”
“Yes. I know she was forced to leave and they sued to have some of the details changed to protect their identities.”
“That’s close enough to the truth. But of course, there’s always more. The gist of it is, once she’d been found out and was asked to leave, her daughter refused to return to civilization with her. She’d made a connection with one of the men, and wanted to stay with him.”
“One of the men or one of the boys?”
“From what I know, he was older than her by a good ten years.”
“She looks very young in this photo.”
“Thirteen at the time, yes. Dr. Ledbetter was adamantly against it, both the relationship and her staying behind. They had several terrible arguments. Dr. Ledbetter wasn’t about to leave her young daughter out in the woods with a bunch of strangers and at the mercy of a man nearly twice her age. But Loa had other plans. She and the man left in the night, ran away, and though they did an extensive search, Dr. Ledbetter was forced to come home without her. The group leader assured her he would find them and be in touch the moment he knew anything.”
“I can’t imagine leaving my child behind.” There was ice in her voice.
“Neither could she, believe me. She canceled several months of work to stay and try to find Loa. She was holed up in a hotel with basically no help, though. It was terrible for her. In the end, they simply didn’t want to be found, and she had no choice but to return to her life.”
“But Loa came back.”
“That she did. When I saw her, probably six months after she returned, she was thin and tired and silent as the grave as to what had happened. She was fifteen when she came back. She’d been gone for two years.”
“No chance you know the name of the man she’d been with, is there?”
“Not off the top of my head. I can go through some of Dr. Ledbetter’s things and see. Or you could just contact Loa yourself. Maybe she’d be willing to talk now, especially since her mother is gone.”
“I left her a note on Facebook asking her to get in touch, but she never returned the message. But it’s only been a day.”
“Here’s her direct number. You can try that instead of waiting.” He rattled off ten digits, and Sam scribbled them down on a napkin.
“Thank you. There’s one more thing. Remember I asked if Dr. Ledbetter knew Congressman Leighton?”
“Yes. As far as I know, she didn’t.”
“What was she doing in Africa in 1990?”
“Peace Corps. She dropped out, though. It wasn’t for her. She wanted to scale all the mountains, not be stuck in one place. That’s what she said about it.”
“Are you near her computer?”
“Yes, I am.”
“If you look in the Africa folder from 1990, at photo nu
mber 7679, you’ll see a group of people. Do you have it?”
She heard him clicking away, then he said, “Yes. That was taken about a month before she left Kenya. She’d only been there for about three weeks at the time.”
“The man facing away from the camera. We believe that’s Peter Leighton.”
George was silent.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes, sorry. I was just looking. It does seem to be him. That’s weird, though. She never said anything about knowing him to me.”
“Well, maybe it didn’t come up.”
“Actually, it did. She was invited to a fundraiser last month that he was speaking at. Normally she accepts all those invitations—they’re good for drumming up new business. But when she saw it on her calendar, she flipped out. Told me to cancel, which I did. I asked her why and she said she thought Leighton was a pompous ass and didn’t want to be associated with him or his policies. That was enough for me. I canceled it, and we never spoke of him again.”
“That’s interesting. Just one last question. Who was Dr. Ledbetter married to?”
“She’s never been married. She didn’t want a man tying her down, but she always wanted children. For lack of a better term, she used a turkey baster to get pregnant with Loa. The father was a friend of hers from college.”
“Do you know his name?”
“No. He wasn’t part of her life. He just did her a favor once, as she put it.”
“All right, George. Thank you so much. You’ve been a huge help, as always.”
“You’re welcome, Dr. Owens. Call me again if you need anything more.”
She ended the call, raised an eyebrow toward Xander.
“Well?”
“Very interesting.”
“I’ll say. I think it’s probably time to call Fletch, give him some information.”
“Probably. Hopefully Reed will be back with the details on Gerhardt soon, too. More coffee?”
“I don’t know how you can handle all that caffeine.”
“That’s a yes?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
He bussed her on the forehead and went in search of refills. Sam watched him go, just happy to be near him. Then she dialed Fletcher’s number, and gave him all the news.
Chapter 38
Washington, D.C.
Detective Darren Fletcher
Fletcher was back at the JTTF when his cell phone rang. He was surprised to find Mrs. Conlon on the other end of the line.
“Detective, I apologize for my tone this morning. I am not mentally prepared to think about anything other than the fact that my Marc is gone, and I’ll never see him again.”
“I understand, Mrs. Conlon. There’s no need to apologize.”
“Thank you. I thought about what you said, about Marc’s research, and people he might have come in contact with who upset him. There was a boy who Marc talked to a few times on his computer. I don’t remember what they call it.”
“Skype?”
“That’s it. Yes. He was on the computer with this young man and I was bringing some laundry up. They were having an argument.”
“Do you remember what it was about?”
“No, sir. The minute Marc realized I was in the room he shut the computer. I asked if everything was okay and he said it was, that he was just talking to a fellow student who needed some help with his thesis.”
“Why did this moment in particular stand out to you, Mrs. Conlon?”
“Because he was lying to me. He didn’t lie much, we had an understanding. You don’t need to lie, you can just say it’s none of my business and so long as it’s clear no one is getting hurt, I’ll leave it alone. But he was upset, angry, and when I left the room I heard him slamming around upstairs.”
“When was this, ma’am?”
“Oh, a couple of months ago. The thing is, looking back, I think I recognized the boy. He was hanging around our neighborhood a few days ago. I didn’t know who he belonged to, he was like a stray dog just hoping someone might take him in. He was sitting in his car like he was waiting for something. That’s all I have, Detective.”
“Mrs. Conlon, would you mind sitting down with an artist and letting us get a composite of this boy?”
“I don’t know what good that will do. I can barely remember what he looks like, I just recognize that he was the same person Marc fought with.”
“Anything might help us, ma’am. You’d be amazed at what you do remember, even though you don’t think you do. I can arrange for an artist to come to your house right now if it would be convenient.”
She sighed. “I guess that would be fine. Better than sitting here grieving. At least it will give me something to do.”
* * *
Fletcher told Inez to get an artist with an Identi-Kit to head over to the Conlon house, then sat back in his chair and tried to piece things together. Just as he decided he’d be better off chucking it all and starting from scratch, and maybe grabbing a sandwich and some coffee to go along with that, his cell trilled.
It was Sam.
“Hey there. How’re the mountains treating you?”
“Very well, thank you. Have you talked to Amado?”
“About the delivery methods of the abrin? Yes. Great catch. It’s all being tested now.”
“Good. Listen, I have something else that you’re going to need to check out. Something that now ties everyone together.”
“Hit me.”
“The congressman was with Loa Ledbetter in Africa in 1990. She was in the Peace Corps briefly, and apparently so was he.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s interesting. But I’m not sure how to use it. That was a long time ago. He wasn’t on the public radar then. He was just a kid, really.”
“He’d be, what, twenty-two or twenty-three. About her same age, actually. I’m just here looking through Ledbetter’s photos, and up pops the congressman. They were definitely in the same place at the same time. They knew each other.”
“That helps, but, Sam, you’re giving me precious little to go on.”
“Precious little is an understatement. But there’s something here, I can feel it. Ledbetter uses the photos from her trip to Africa, specifically the day she was with the Maasi, on a lot of her stuff—it’s the focal point at her office, it’s her Facebook photo.”
“Maybe she just liked it of herself.”
“And maybe that photo held special meaning for her. Come on, Fletch. Think about it. Twenty-three years later, Ledbetter and Leighton are both murdered on the same day? There’s a connection here.”
Fletcher thought about his meeting with Gretchen Leighton, and her infinitesimal reaction when he asked if she was familiar with Loa Ledbetter or if her husband knew her. The tiny eyelid flutter. He’d wondered at the time whether she was hiding something. But if your husband is a congressman, he’s going to know a lot of people.
“There’s one more interesting thing. Ledbetter’s daughter, also named Loa, was with her during her year she was sequestered with the Mountain Blue and Gray, but she never mentions her daughter in her memoir of that time. This is the daughter she’s estranged from and who inherits everything.”
“Where’s the daughter?”
“In D.C., I think, or thereabouts. From what I’ve ascertained, Ledbetter had to leave the girl behind because she fell in love with one of the men in the camp, and ran away with him. She showed up back in D.C. two years later. I’ve got her phone number if you want to talk to her. She might be able to shed some light on things.”
“Where did you get this information?”
“Ledbetter’s assistant, George. He’s a treasure trove of information.”
“All right. Tha
nks for this. When are you coming back?”
“Soon. But we have a date with a large animal vet and some autopsy reports first. A man out here, name’s Sal Gerhardt, died a few months ago, along with several of his cattle. A lung ailment. I just want to check and see if there’s a chance our killer tested his abrin out before the attack. Has the Moroccan dude talked?”
Fletcher double-checked that he was out of earshot from anyone else at the JTTF before he spoke again. He kept his voice low.
“This is for your ears only. I’m pretty sure it’s not him. It’s a diversion. They’re trying to lure the real killer out. So you keep on your trail, and on your toes, and tell me everything you find out.”
“I figured as much. Will do, Fletch. Talk to you soon.”
She hung up, and Fletcher put his phone back in his pocket.
He felt better now that he’d told Sam the truth. He didn’t agree with the tactic of allowing the media to think they’d caught the man who did this. He thought it was a dangerous ploy, one that could easily backfire on them.
But that wasn’t his problem, that was Bianco’s. He had another focus.
Who the hell was behind the murders of the three Indiana girls? And how was that connected to Tuesday’s Metro attack?
Chapter 39
Loa Ledbetter the younger lived on Connecticut Avenue, near the Washington Zoo. Inez tracked her down, asked her to make herself available for an interview. She was actually coming downtown to meet a friend for lunch at Old Ebbitt, and said she would be happy to stop by the JTTF for a chat.
Fletcher realized he needed to start thinking about this case differently. Sam emailed him the photographs she had found, and he had Inez start going through them. Finding a connection between the congressman and Ledbetter was a good step. It at least proved they knew each other. He wished there was a direct and contemporary correlation between Leighton and Conlon, then they’d really be cooking with fire.
But he still couldn’t figure out why and how the subway attack figured in. If you want to murder three people, why run the risk of killing hundreds?
Sam’s theory was as good as any he’d come up with. The point was to attack hundreds and mask the true targets.
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