“Indefinitely. Assuming a trained professional was managing their care.”
Sam frowned at Marcie. “So Rhodes could have kept Congdon on a vent for a few weeks?”
Kait thought to walk away. She didn’t want to hear Marcie’s answer. Didn’t want confirmation that Fenton was not only a murderer, but the monster they were coming to believe him to be. But she stayed put and waited.
“Rhodes clearly has the skills it would take to keep someone on a vent for an extended period of time.” Marcie sat back on her heels and looked up at Kait. “I’d hate to think he did it, though.”
Me, too, Kait thought but averted her gaze and avoided the subject lest they see how truly upset she was.
Marcie turned back to Youngblood and moved his head. “Is it just me, or does Youngblood look like he could pass as Congdon’s twin?”
“It’s not just you.” Sam shifted his focus to Kait. “I’m starting to buy your theory that Rhodes is impersonating his victims before killing them.”
Kait should be glad that Sam was agreeing with her, but it simply made the situation more real, and she couldn’t control the tremor that ran through her body. Nor could she stop the guilt. She was responsible for Youngblood’s death. If she’d done a better job, done more, sooner, he might still be alive.
She couldn’t look at him any longer. She stepped to the window and gazed out over the backyard. A tall pine shaded the postage stamp-sized space with a rusty swing set and empty sandbox. Once upon a time, this house had been filled with the laughter of a child, and now the stench of death had erased it all.
Sam’s phone rang, splitting the deathly quiet and making Kait jump. She kept looking out the window, but listened to Sam’s conversation. It wasn’t hard to figure out he was talking to the Oregon State Police tech processing Congdon’s car. Sam’s voice grew frustrated, and she turned to watch him.
“Sure. Run the DNA.” He massaged the back of his neck, a sure sign he was stressed, too. Of course he was. Sam took this murder personally. He had empathy in droves for those who suffered. He was such an amazing man, and she was fortunate to have him working this case by her side.
He shook his head then stowed his phone, mumbling, “Fat lotta good it’ll do us.”
“Problem?” Kait asked, though she doubted she wanted to hear his answer.
The tightness of his shoulders and firm set of jaw increased her apprehension. “They’ve finished processing Congdon’s car. Nothing of interest yet, but they found the pea coat. They’re running it and the car for Rhodes’s DNA.”
Not bad news. Not good either, which explained Sam’s frustration.
“Since we’re fairly certain Fenton stole Congdon’s car, the DNA won’t do much now, but it will help with his prosecution,” Kait said, stepping across the room to join Sam. “I’m more interested in why the coat keeps turning up.”
Sam shrugged. “Rhodes might simply want us to think it’s important and divert our resources.”
“You could be right,” she said, as she thought about the events that had transpired today and considered what their next move should be. “Since Fenton abandoned Congdon’s car last night, he needs new transportation. We should check for Youngblood’s vehicle.”
“Already done. The garage is empty.” Sam pulled out his notepad and flipped a few pages. “Pulled a registration. He drives a classic 1968 Volkswagen van. Blue and white.” He looked at Kait. “I’ve also issued an alert, and your analysts are reviewing street cam footage. Plus, Yates and Adams are canvassing neighbors near your parents’ house again to see if anyone saw the van earlier today.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to find it in my driveway when I get home,” Kait said, but at Sam’s frown, she wished she’d kept the thought to herself.
He kept his hawk-like gaze trained on her for a moment, then suddenly turned to Marcie without commenting. “You have a cause of death yet?”
“Nothing obvious. There’s a needle stick and IV tape like Congdon. No sign of a struggle.” She came to her feet. “If he was drugged, the sooner I get him on the table, the better my odds of identifying the drug.”
“Then get him out of here.”
She turned to her assistant. “You heard the man, Sandra. Let’s bag him.”
Kait stepped closer. “Before you do, can you confirm the missing heart?”
Marcie wrinkled her forehead. “The blood on his shirt makes it pretty obvious.”
“Still,” Kait said warily. “If I’m going to get another unexpected package, I’d like to be sure about it in advance.”
Sam winced, but didn’t speak.
Marcie returned to the body and slid her fingers over the chest. Her eyes lifted in surprise. “The heart’s gone, but there’s something in the cavity.”
Kait moved closer, as did Sam, while Marcie raised Youngblood’s shirt. She pulled out a neon-pink sheet of cardstock—the same type of paper as the note left with Congdon’s heart. This one had heart-shaped stickers on one side and had been laminated.
Marcie’s mouth flattened in a hard line as she read the message, then she handed it to Sam.
Kait read over his shoulder.
I thought you were smarter than this, Kait.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
Another dies in 24 hours unless you stop me.
Dread coiled in Kait’s stomach, and she glanced at Sam who was staring into space. She couldn’t get a read on his thoughts, but he had to be wondering who would die next. At least, that’s what she was thinking.
Marcie snapped off her gloves, the sound reverberating in the nearly empty room. “If the countdown commenced at the time of death—likely the time Rhodes put the note in Youngblood’s chest cavity—then I suggest you subtract about two hours from the clock.”
“Two hours.” Sam peered at his watch. “That gives us until 5:25 tomorrow afternoon.”
“To do what?” Kait asked, her tone plagued with the turmoil churning in her stomach. “We don’t even have one solid lead to run down.”
“Then we better come up with something quick.” Sam met her gaze, and she saw a healthy measure of desperation there. “Or we’ll be looking at another victim in twenty-two hours.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE CLOCK LOOMED over Sam’s head. Tick. Tick. Tick. It weighed on him as he checked his phone while Dane carried in supplies, and Marcie loaded Youngblood onto the gurney. A voicemail from Yates confirmed Rhodes’s call to the FBI office had come from a burner phone. Sam wasn’t surprised. Rhodes was a technology expert, and, despite Sam’s disgust over the guy’s killing spree, he had to admit he was proving to be a worthy opponent.
Sam switched to his e-mail. The first message was from Sulyard, updating task force members on Youngblood’s murder. He also noted that the request for the post office mail hold came from Congdon’s address. Didn’t mean Congdon ordered the hold, just that it was sent from his house. Essentially another dead end.
Sam moved on to a department message telling them to be careful with e-mail.
He rolled his eyes. How ironic was that? An e-mail to warn them about e-mail. The message said something about spoofing, whatever that was. He read the message and tapped the link to acknowledge that he’d received it as was required with department memos.
Marcie crossed to Sam. “Okay, we’re good to go. I’ll start the autopsy and won’t head home until I have something to report.”
“Thanks.” Sam watched Kait as she stared at the body bag then, with a shake of her head, she left the room.
“I’m worried about her.” Marcie’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t seem nearly as together as yesterday.”
Sam had the same concern, but he didn’t want to admit it. “You said it yourself. She’s a strong woman.”
Marcie’s eyes widened. “Why, Sam
Murdock. You’ve fallen for her. I hear it in your voice.”
Sam stepped closer to her. “Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, my word.” Marcie clasped her hand to her chest. “For the first time ever, you didn’t tell me to mind my own business or deny any interest in her, proving my point.”
He glanced at the others openly watching him and moved even closer to Marcie to keep them from overhearing him. “If I admit that if I was going to get involved with someone, it would be Kait, will you lower your voice?”
“I’m so happy for you.” She grabbed him in a hug, and he heard Dane chuckle.
Sam eased out of her arms. “Okay, that’s enough, Marcie. We’re working, and I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Reputation, phooey. Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”
“She’s right,” Dane called out.
Sam glared at him. “Who asked you?”
Dane held up his hands and backed away.
“So,” Marcie said. “When this case is over, Paul and I will be glad to have you and Kait over for dinner.”
“For real, Marcie. Not the time or place for this discussion.” Shaking his head, Sam headed for the door.
“I’ll set it up with Kait,” she shouted after him.
He stifled a groan and went in search of Kait to warn her about Marcie’s intentions. He found her staring into the refrigerator again as he had at Congdon’s house. This time, she wouldn’t need to convince him of Rhodes’s involvement.
He approached, but her tense stance said it would be prudent to delay a conversation about Marcie. “Something interesting in there?”
She shook her head. “Pretty much like Congdon’s fridge.”
He noted the meticulously arranged containers. “Maybe the yogurt says Rhodes hasn’t lost it after all.”
“Not sure I agree.” Kait turned back to the refrigerator. “There’s what? A half-dozen or so containers of yogurt? Just like at Congdon’s house. Fenton ate a container at precisely ten a.m. each morning. He claimed he needed protein to fuel his brain. If he was on his game, he’d have planned his purchase down to the exact number of containers he needed until he killed each of them.”
“That’s a good thing then. Rhodes isn’t thinking straight. He’s bound to slip up, and the perfect crime won’t be so perfect any longer.”
Her head suddenly shot up. “Perfect. That’s it. Just like Nina said.”
“That’s what?”
“What are the odds of pulling off a perfect crime?”
“Slim to none.”
“Yet here we are with very few leads.”
“And?” Sam tried to keep the skepticism from his tone, but failed.
She flashed a frustrated look at him. “If Congdon was Fenton’s first dance, wouldn’t he have screwed up somewhere? It’s only after you practice that you can dance like a pro, so maybe there’s evidence we’re missing.”
“Between FED and ERT, I’m positive we haven’t missed a thing at Congdon’s house, and it doesn’t look like there’ll be much here either.”
She stepped forward and clutched his arm, her gaze locked on his. “I’m not talking about these cases. I mean that a crime this perfect may have been rehearsed a time or two.”
He caught her train of thought and didn’t like it. Not one bit. “You’re thinking Rhodes killed before Congdon. And you don’t mean the way he executed Kozlov, but killing someone with the same method he used on Congdon. In preparation.”
She nodded. “He always had to be the best at everything. Why not be the best at killing?”
“Could be, I suppose,” Sam said, but he hated the thought that Rhodes had taken even more lives.
“One way to find out. ViCAP.”
Sam shook his head. “I’ve already searched the database for the heart and handcuffs.”
“Maybe he changed his MO a bit, and the heart has been added as a way of proving his point to me. And if he failed on his trial runs, maybe he removed the handcuffs. Or maybe he never got as far as handcuffing the initial victims.” She tightened her grip. “Marcie said something about blowing out someone’s lung or causing heart failure if this wasn’t done right. What if we should be looking for suspicious deaths involving these medical conditions, instead of a cut-out heart or handcuffs?”
“You have a point,” he admitted. “But death by heart attack without any other unusual conditions won’t even be in the database.”
“We’ll add the IV with the rocuronium and the abraded trachea as secondary criteria.” Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Could work,” he said warming to the idea. “I suppose since you work for ViCAP’s mother ship, you’re volunteering for the assignment.”
“Absolutely. It’s part of my plan to make sure you can’t live without me.” That smile, the one that made him want something he had no business wanting, slid across her face, and he was already beginning to think life without her after they closed this investigation was going to be far more lonely than it was now. Very lonely indeed.
Dane joined them, his gaze bouncing between them, then settling on Kait. “I just got off the phone with the state police. The tech processing Congdon’s car found a flash drive sewed into the lining of his pea coat. But she’s the only one on duty, and she’s not trained in electronic evidence recovery. Normally, she’d pass the drive on to our department, but I thought since the feds are better equipped to deal with this, you’d want to take it.”
“Of course we’ll take charge of it.” Kait dug out her phone. “Let me get the tech on call down there to pick it up.”
“You know how to handle this kind of evidence, right?” Sam asked. “Wouldn’t it be faster if we picked it up, so we could look at it right away?”
Kait thumbed through her phone. “I’d still have to take it back to the office first. Flash drives are notorious hack bombs, and it’ll have to be opened in a controlled environment. Plus it’ll need to be copied and documented first.”
Sam nodded. “Then the sooner we get to your office, the sooner we see what’s on that drive.”
“STUPID CHARTER plane company!” Fenton screamed at J.J. “How dare they put me off like that when I have a plan? An even stricter one since I don’t yet know Lily’s location. Delaying my flight for twenty-four hours is not okay. The timeline must be met. Mechanical issues or not, they could find me another plane. Is that so hard?”
His anger begging to explode, he raised his phone, preparing to slam it on the desk. No. This was his pricey smartphone, his lifeline to computer files and banking information, not one of his disposables that he could destroy.
But the anger.
He snatched up his drinking glass and flung it at the wall. The rigid plastic shattered, tiny fragments raining down on the floor.
Better. But not enough.
He clamped his hands over his ears. It hurt. Always hurt. Never relenting. Maybe he should jump the gun. End J.J.’s life. That would bring relief. Finally, sweet relief. But at what cost?
“That’s what they want, isn’t it, J.J.? They want me to make a mistake so they can win. But I’m better than them. Better than Kait. Better than that stupid detective. I can adjust. Go to plan B.” Oh, yes, he was smarter. So much smarter.
He grabbed a paper towel from the desk and crossed the room. “This isn’t your fault, J.J. You deserve to have the final hours I planned for you. And thanks to the airplane screw-up, you might get a few more.”
Fenton squatted by J.J. to clean up the scattered shards. “What’s that? You think I should leave the mess to remember how I nearly lost it and almost did something stupid?” Fenton stood. “You’re right. My time is better spent calling up Toby Bradley from the backup list and invoking my contingency plan.”
“I knew I could count on you for solid advice.
” Humming now, Fenton patted J.J.’s head before returning to the desk and opening his photo album. He selected Toby’s picture from the envelope and settled it in place. “You haven’t met Toby, but he’s eager to help. Just like you. See, here he is.” He displayed Toby’s picture for J.J. “Why the sad face, J.J.? Oh, I get it. You don’t want to share your role with Toby. That’s priceless, but you’ll get your chance in the limelight. I promise.”
Fenton’s phone emitted a special alarm he’d set to notify him if anyone clicked the link in his spoofed e-mail. He spun to look at his phone. “How delicious.” He held out the phone to J.J. “See. It’s a text from the detective to the officer at Lily’s safe house. Murdock says he’s afraid Kait will get hurt and he wants her moved to the safe house, too.”
Fenton swiveled the chair back to the desk and logged onto the computer. “A simple trace of the officer’s phone, and I’ll have the GPS coordinates for Lily before you can blink.” He looked at J.J. again. “Sorry, J.J. That was insensitive of me, wasn’t it? You can’t blink now, can you?”
KAIT STARED AT her computer screen. She was vaguely aware of Sam standing behind her, watching the slide show from the flash drive they’d recovered in Congdon’s car. Photo after photo of herself and Lily slipped by on the screen. Lily at daycare. Kait heading to work. Lily and her mom at the park. Kait and Lily grocery shopping. On and on.
“You’re too quiet, Kait,” Sam said.
“What do you want me to say? That I feel violated again. Sick to my stomach. Because I do.” She shuddered. “You have no idea.”
Sam perched on the corner of her desk. “I hate that you had to see these pictures on top of everything else, but I’m sure that’s what Rhodes is counting on. He wants to show you how vulnerable you are in order to distract you from the case.”
She got that—clearly—but it still hurt. Like acid poured in an open wound. Even with the evidence staring her in the face, she could hardly believe it. “The first of these pictures are three weeks old. He tailed me for three weeks. Not simply a day. Three whole weeks or even longer, for all I know. What kind of an agent doesn’t know they’re being tailed by a sociopath?”
Web of Deceit Page 24
