“And I’m Marcie.” She gestured at the body on the table. “You haven’t missed much. We’ve barely started.”
Waving a report, Tim poked his head in the door. “Your lab results.”
“Perfect timing,” Marcie said.
Tim crossed the room, his dirty sneakers slapping on the antiseptic floor, his eyes flashing first to Kait then to Sam before the sneer he seemed to wear frequently found its place on his face. Marcie didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she didn’t care. Tim was an able assistant, and finding experienced workers in this field was tough. She took the report and was instantly wrapped up in it. She thumbed through pages while Tim sauntered out the door.
“Interesting. Very interesting.” Marcie looked up. “Congdon had Rophenol in his system.”
“Roofies? One of the date rape drugs,” Sam clarified in case, as a cyber expert, Kait wasn’t up to speed on current street drugs.
Marcie nodded. “And not something you find in a male victim very often. The tests don’t indicate levels high enough to have recently incapacitated him. Either the person administering the dose didn’t know what they were doing, or it’s been some time since he ingested it. If it’s the latter, it’s certainly not our cause of death.”
“So you still don’t think the heart played a part in his death?” Kait asked.
“No. I’ve confirmed that bit of nastiness was done postmortem.” Marcie’s attention returned to the body. She grabbed a magnifying glass and adjusted the light then bent closer to Congdon’s arm, and her face suddenly lit with excitement.
Sam knew that look. She’d discovered something of interest, and he might just have his first real lead in this case. He stepped closer as she pressed on the inside of Congdon’s elbow. She bent even closer.
“Hmm,” she said. “A puncture over his vein.” She ran her finger up Congdon’s arm. “And inflammation running up the vein.”
“Which means what, exactly?” Sam asked.
She looked up and twisted the light to shine on the far wall instead of her eyes. “It’s called phlebitis.” She pointed at a spot where the elbow bent, but Sam couldn’t see anything except discolored skin and blisters. “There’s tape residue here. Could mean a needle was secured to the skin.”
“Secured, as in an IV?” Sam asked.
“Likely.” Marcie pressed the skin again. “The redness could indicate chemical phlebitis. It happens sometimes when the vein is irritated by a chemical.” She looked up again. “Did he have a recent hospital stay?”
Kait’s phone chimed, but she kept her rapt gaze on Marcie and ignored the call. “None of the neighbors mentioned a hospital stay.”
“His mother didn’t say anything about it either,” Sam added. “But then, I didn’t know to ask about it, so I’ll follow up with her today.”
Marcie stared at Congdon while tapping her finger on the edge of the table, a sure sign that she was working through an idea. Unlike many of the other pathologists on staff, she went that extra step to combine details from the case with the forensics she discovered. She’d offered theories over the years that had led to arrests on many of Sam’s cases.
Her head suddenly popped up, her eyes gleaming. “You know how the room where we found Congdon had that deadbolt and key?”
Sam nodded.
“What if the killer roofied Congdon so he was compliant enough to get him into the cuffs, then kept him sedated with IV drugs?”
“So you’re not saying the roofies were given in the IV, right? You’re talking about something else that kept him sedated.”
“Right,” Marcie said. “There are plenty of intravenous drugs that could keep him sedated for any length of time.”
“That would explain why he didn’t struggle against the cuffs.” Excitement from a potential lead built in Sam’s gut. “Not just anyone can put in an IV, right? Which means the killer had to have medical training.”
“Yes,” Marcie said. “We’d be looking at a doctor, nurse, or even a paramedic.”
The color drained from Kait’s face. “These IV drugs you mentioned. Can you test for them?”
“Maybe.” Marcie looked at the body again. “Normally I’d say I could use tissue to locate any drugs he had onboard, but with the extensive decay, it could go either way. We might find something. We might not.”
“But you’ll test for it, right?” Sam asked.
“Of course.”
Sam realized Kait had dropped out of the conversation. He shifted his focus to her and found her deep in thought. “What’re you thinking, Kait?”
“You keep saying everything I mention related to Fenton is a coincidence. Not this, Sam. Not this.” She started trembling while running her hands up and down her arms.
His instinct to protect her from any additional pain made him take a step closer. “What is it?”
“Don’t you see?” She shivered and grabbed onto the edge of the table. “This is it. Like I told you. The piece of the puzzle that only I would know. Fenton was a medic in the Navy.”
THE ROOM SPUN around Kait. She might have had a strong hunch that Fenton had killed Congdon, but now she was positive he was their killer. But man. Knowing—really knowing—that the guy who’d married Abby and fathered Lily was the monster who’d carved out Condon’s heart, made Kait’s head swim.
“You’re awfully pale, Kait,” Sam said from across the table. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?”
She never let anyone see her weakness. Her mother drilled that into her. But she didn’t care if Sam or Marcie thought her weak, today. The shock was just too much to handle. She crossed the room and dropped onto a metal folding chair. The cold seeped through her slacks, but she barely noticed it. Not when the chill from seeing how Fenton had butchered Congdon had already frozen her solid.
A worried expression on his face, Sam joined her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She tried to fill her tone with conviction, but she failed. Failed miserably.
He stepped closer and raised a hand as if planning to rest it on her shoulder, but then let it fall to his side. “You don’t have to stay, you know?”
“I know,” she said, trying to gain control of her emotions before Marcie or Sam insisted she leave. “I need to stay now more than ever.”
He squatted in front of her, reaching for her hands. She let him engulf her hands with his. Strong and warm, his touch started thawing the aching cold. She believed his touch meant he understood her, and he would take her claim seriously. Fenton was their killer. Sam would value her knowledge of Fenton and let her work the case with him to bring Fenton to justice. She waited for him to confirm it.
“Don’t jump to conclusions here, Kait.” He looked her in the eye. “If Marcie’s right about the IV sedation, it significantly narrows our search for the killer, but that still gives us thousands of suspects, and it still doesn’t mean Rhodes is our man.”
Shocked at his stance, she pulled her hands away and crossed her arms.
“I’m sorry, Kait,” he said. “But I have to look at the facts, and they don’t yet point to anyone specific. What we have at this point is circumstantial at best.”
Her phone rang again for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. Despite her desire to tune out the world and focus on Fenton, she couldn’t ignore the incessant ring any longer. She dug out her cell. The screen displayed Nina’s icon. The three missed calls were from her, too.
“I really have to take this.” Kait accepted the call before Nina hung up again.
Sam stood.
“Kait,” Nina said, but Kait kept her focus on Sam until he turned away.
Watching him walk across the room, she felt all alone. His compassion and understanding, and the clear interest he’d shown in her last night, fooled her into thinking maybe she wasn’t alone in this. To t
hink he’d help prove Fenton’s involvement in the murder. But his reluctance to support her now cleared that up fast.
“Are you there, Kait?” Nina’s voice came over the phone.
“Yes.”
“You best get in here if you want to keep your job.” Nina’s forceful whisper grabbed Kait’s full attention.
As Kait opened her mouth to get clarification, the sound of raised voices in the background and the thump of a slamming door filtered through the phone. Odd. Sulyard kept the office humming along at an even keel at all times. Chaos meant something big was going down.
Kait glanced at her watch. Shoot. She was two hours late. Fortunately, the office was a straight shot up the freeway, and she didn’t have to fight city traffic. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“Make it faster,” Nina snapped. “All hell’s breaking loose here, and Sulyard’s on a rampage hunting you down.”
If Kait wasn’t so upset about Fenton, this kind of news might worry her, but she just didn’t have room in her brain for work issues right now. “Sounds ominous.”
“It is. So get over here, already.” Nina exhaled loudly, a sure sign she was flustered. “And bring your detective with you.”
“My what?” Kait asked as she stood.
Nina snorted. “Come on, Kait. Didn’t you think I could decipher your cryptic comments this morning and figure out you’d be at the morgue?”
Kait shouldn’t be surprised that Nina knew her location. Not when they could predict each other’s moves with precision. Kait promised to jump in the car right away and said goodbye before joining Sam at the table. “Our presence is requested at my office.”
He looked up in surprise. “Our? As in you and me?”
“That’s what Nina said.”
“What for?”
She shrugged and dug out her car keys. “It has to be big if it has Nina flustered. Nothing at work ever flusters her. Nothing.”
Chapter Nine
WHO SHOULD DIE NEXT?
Fenton dropped onto Brian’s pricey desk chair that resembled an alien with outstretched arms. “Whaddaya think, Brian? Who do you want to join you?”
He slid his chair closer to the shackles holding Brian to the floor in his office. Avoiding his splayed legs, Fenton peered into Brian’s eyes. “Messy business, this drug, eh? How does it feel to be paralyzed? Not good, I suppose. It was the only choice since I wanted you restrained but conscious. I guess it’s not fair to you, but then, think of it as your contribution to my cause. You want to contribute don’t you?”
Fenton took hold of Brian’s chin with gloved hands and shook his limp head up and down.
“I knew you’d agree. Now.” Fenton clapped his gloved hands together. “I have to decide on your replacement.”
Pushing back, he lifted his knees and sent his chair turning. Just like his childhood when his father’s cruelty had crowded out all thoughts, and Fenton had needed to find peace. He closed his eyes and kicked up his speed. Faster. Faster, he moved, the chair’s frame groaning from exertion.
Screaming with a frenzy, ideas dented his skull, trying to escape. He gave in to the fury. Let his head drop back to concentrate on his thoughts. The even thump, thump, thump of Brian’s portable ventilator soothed his nerves, and peace cleared his mind. He enjoyed the interlude until gravity pulled his eyes open, and he caught sight of Brian again.
Right, Brian. He couldn’t forget Brian. Maybe he could help decide. A few more turns.
Three. Two. One.
He stabbed a toe into the matted carpet and ground to a halt.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t forget you.” Fenton adjusted the strap holding Brian’s endotracheal tube and patted his glossy black hair. A lock slid across his high forehead and lay as lifeless as Brian would be in the very near future.
“Back to business.” Fenton propelled the chair forward, ramming the desk and jerking to a stop. He ran his index finger down the short list lying next to three hard drives he would exchange after silencing Brian for good.
Andy Baker
Jason Mason
Scott Kepple
He lingered over Jason Mason. “What kind of parent saddles their child with a rhyming name? For the name alone, he deserves to die.”
Was that reason enough to choose him? Or was it too arbitrary when deciding to end a life? Fenton’s finger hovered. Choices, choices, choices.
He ran down each man’s background. They were all the same. Computer experts, loners, no family to speak of and, of great importance, they resembled Fenton, so nosy neighbors wouldn’t question his coming and going.
Depending on the progress of his plan, they could all die. Soon. So why struggle to decide who went first?
He closed his eyes and swirled his finger in the air. “Eenie meenie minie moe, pick a name, I gotta go.” Excitement quickening his breath, he stabbed his finger onto the desk and peeked through slit eyelids. He ground his finger into the name.
Jason Mason. Jason Mason. Jason Mason. Buh bye.
No more Jason Mason—well, nearly. Fenton would assume Jason’s name for as long as it served his purpose. Then it would be gone for eternity.
He opened a worn photo album and flipped to page one. He pressed out a crease in the clinging film and swiveled to display the picture for Brian. “This is Abby. Oh, I loved her, Brian. How I loved her. Until her sister killed her. Now it’s time for payback. You’re a big part of that, Brian. A big part.” He quickly flipped past a few pages filled with his failures to Elliot Congdon’s photo. “And this is Elliot. My first bit of enticement for Kaitlyn Knight. I wish you could have known him. Not a bit of trouble. And special. I had to experiment a few times, but I perfected the drug dosage and vent settings on Elliot.” Fenton flipped another page. “And here. See how handsome you looked in the sunlight?”
He spun back to the desk, turning the page on the way. In a small manila envelope, he shuffled grainy pictures from the Internet then withdrew a mug shot of Jason, or J.J. as he liked to be called in chat rooms.
“There.” Fenton inserted J.J. into the album. “Doesn’t it feel so much better having made a decision?”
Energized, he jumped to his feet.
Yes, the decision was made.
He could relax and enjoy the day. A day that promised to be very rewarding. After he laid his next trap, Brian Youngblood would retire, too. And Kait’s nightmare?
That was just beginning.
AS PROMISED, KAIT waited for Sam in the security office at the FBI building. He crossed the visitors’ parking area, his stride reminding her of her ex. It’d been a long time since she’d thought about Owen, but the way Sam moved with the ease and confidence of a man who was secure in himself was reminiscent of Owen. The difference—big difference—was that Owen was superficial. All swagger and brawn. But Sam had been kind and compassionate every time they’d met. That’s what really made her heart take a dip around him, as it did now. Even if he didn’t embrace her theory.
He hung the visitor pass issued at the security desk around his neck, and a slow-dawning, lopsided grin spread across his face. “Like what you see?”
She felt a blush creep up her neck. She didn’t have the time or inclination to get into it with him, so she ignored his question and headed across the courtyard to the main building.
Inside the small lobby, he let out a low whistle. “I haven’t been to your new offices before. Impressive.”
She agreed. They’d moved into the new building a little over two years ago, and every time she arrived on campus, she appreciated the added security. She slid her keycard over the reader, then pressed her code into the number keypad.
He turned in a circle. “So this is what sixty million bucks buys nowadays.”
She heard a hint of outrage in his tone. “Blame terrorists. O
ur old office wasn’t secure enough to withstand an attack, and state-of-the-art security is costly.” She led him down the hallway to the elevator.
“Hey,” he said on the ride up to her floor. “I’m not saying y’all didn’t need a safer environment, I’m just saying it took a hefty chunk of change to provide it.”
Feeling defensive about what many people saw as an extravagance, she opted not to comment, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. As she headed for her workstation, a wave of apprehension washed over her. The usual calm atmosphere was charged with uneasy, frantic movements. Phones rang nonstop, but the agents she passed were already engaged in conversation, leaving the shrill ring of incoming calls pealing through the open space.
“Your office always this busy?” Sam asked from behind, making Kait jump.
“No. Let’s find Nina and see what’s going on.” She led Sam though the cubicles. Her fellow agents stared as she passed. Not a questioning stare like “where were you,” but irritated, frustrated glares.
Sam whistled again. “Awful early in the morning to have peeved off so many people, isn’t it, Knight?”
“That’s the thing,” she said, rounding the corner to Nina’s cubicle. “I didn’t even stop in this morning, so I couldn’t have done anything to them.”
Nina sat in her chair. The white blouse she’d paired with navy slacks had come loose, and she’d discarded her jacket on the back of the chair. A sure sign of trouble. If Nina’s grandmother was here to see Nina’s disheveled appearance, she’d take her by the arm, march her to the bathroom, and wait until she’d tidied herself up.
She looked up. “Good. You’re here. They’re waiting for us in the war room. Let’s walk and talk.” Nina came to her feet and absently tucked the blouse into her waistband, her gaze roaming over the bullpen.
“They?” Kait asked.
Nina ignored Kait’s question, grabbed her jacket, and gave Sam a quick once-over, ending with a smile. “Nina Brandt,” she said pointedly. Her usual warmth and gentility missing, she stuck out her hand. “And you’re the detective Kait has told me so much about.”
Web of Deceit Page 8
