Dead End

by Nancy Mehl

  He also had several surprises in store for Special Agent Kaely Quinn. One had been delivered. Now to prepare the next one. He laughed again. She would never see this one coming.

  Warden Galloway stared down at the computer screen. “I don’t understand. How could someone have done this?”

  “Have you kept this office locked?” Noah asked.

  Galloway shook his head. “No. I mean, it’s empty. No reason to. But it could only be accessed by the staff allowed in this section, and none of us would do such a thing.”

  “Do you have cameras in this area?” Kaely asked.

  “At the entrance. We’re installing a couple in the hallways, but they’re not active yet. None in the individual offices. Probably won’t.”

  “It’s possible the message was sent from somewhere else, warden,” Noah said. “But whoever did it would have to know about this computer—and be convinced that Kaely would see it. That’s taking a lot of chances.”

  Galloway shrugged. “I’m not so sure. It’s the only available office we have right now. Although it would be a risk, I guess it’s not a stretch to assume this is where you would work.”

  Kaely took a deep breath. “We need to have an expert go over this laptop. Maybe this is the way we catch him.”

  “I’ll take it to the Command Post,” Noah said. “If no one there can help, they’ll send it to Quantico.”

  “Command Post?” Galloway said.

  Noah nodded. “Local law enforcement, the FBI, and other agencies are all working this case. We’re not really part of that, but we turn in everything we learn to the agency in charge.” He quietly studied Kaely. She seemed calm, but seeing that Scripture must have shaken her. Was the killer calling her out? It was starting to look that way.

  “What can I do to help?” Galloway said.

  “I need a plastic bag large enough to cover the laptop,” Noah said. “They’ll want to check it for fingerprints as well as to see if they can trace the source of the message.”

  “I’ll take care of it right away. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” Kaely said. “Please keep this to yourself. We don’t want anyone else to know about it.”

  “Not a problem.”

  After Galloway left the office, Noah sat down in the chair across from Kaely. “Are you okay?”

  “You keep asking me that.”

  “I know. Now answer my question.”

  “Yes. But I’m still not sure what this means.” She met his gaze. “The message may not be for me. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe this guy is just really angry at his parents.”

  “Then why send this here, Kaely? To this computer?”

  “Maybe it’s not the only one.”

  “I think we would have heard something by now if everyone’s computer had been taken over by a crazed serial killer.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “You might be right.” Then she sighed deeply. “I have a question.”

  He waited for her to continue.

  “If this message is for me, how did the killer know I’d come to Iowa? My father didn’t ask for me.” Her dark eyes locked on his. “It doesn’t make sense. Could someone inside the investigation be working with the UNSUB?”

  Noah just stared at her. His mind searched for a response, but he couldn’t find one. She was right. It didn’t make any sense. Unless, as Kaely suggested, the UNSUB had inside information. Before he had the chance to respond, someone knocked on the door. Noah went over and opened it. Warden Galloway stood there, an odd look on his face.

  “I thought you should see this right away. A Des Moines paper put out a special edition about the case.” He handed the paper to Noah, who carried it to the desk and unfolded it. The headline read Daughter of Infamous Serial Killer Investigates Murders.

  Kaely grabbed the paper and began to scan the article. After a few seconds, she said, “Not again.” She gave the paper back to Noah, who finished reading through it. The information was incorrect, not anything unexpected from the media, but this was especially egregious. Supposedly the FBI, unable to find the Copycat Killer, had called in the famous profiler, Kaely Quinn, to help them. Noah was pretty sure law enforcement officers and FBI agents alike were sticking pins in their Kaely Quinn dolls right about now.

  “This isn’t going to make our colleagues happy,” he said, putting the paper back down on the desk.

  “You said, ‘not again.’ What did you mean?” Galloway asked.

  “Let’s just say that the press and I don’t have a good working relationship,” Kaely said.

  Galloway frowned. “I understand what you’re saying, but I know a reporter from this paper you can rely on. If you need to talk to him . . .”

  “At this point, I think staying away from the press is my best bet. But thanks. If that changes, I will certainly ask you for his contact information.”

  “Sure. You can trust him.” The warden smiled. “He’s my son-in-law, so if he gets out of line, I can get my daughter to make his life unbearable.”

  “Sounds good,” Kaely said. “And thanks for getting this to us so quickly.”

  “You bet. I’ll get that plastic bag you asked for.”

  Once the door closed behind him, Noah leaned against it. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “If you’re thinking the story came from the warden’s son-in-law, yeah. Galloway goes home, talks about what’s going on here, and it reaches the ears of his son-in-law. He obviously didn’t write the story, but he was probably the source.” She looked at Noah. “So now what?”

  Noah glanced at his watch. “I’ll wait here for the warden. Then I’ll pack up the computer and wait for the guy Sawyer is sending for the note. I got an okay for him to take the laptop too. After that we’ll take our lumps and see where we stand. You go meet with Dr. Engle. I’ll see you back here when you’re finished, okay?”

  “Sure.” Kaely stood and took the evidence bag with the note from her pocket. After handing it to him, she walked over to the door. “See you soon.”

  When she left, Noah stared at the door. This was the last thing they needed. The agents working this case knew they were here, but their only job was to interview Ed, try to find out how the Copycat Killer got knowledge he shouldn’t have, and then leave the heavy lifting to them. This blasted newspaper made it sound as if law enforcement assigned to the case were bumbling fools who couldn’t stop the killer without the great Kaely Quinn. This was additional pressure on Kaely, not something she needed right now.

  He rubbed his temples, trying to chase away the beginnings of a tension headache. Kaely’s question about the UNSUB knowing she would come to Iowa had rocked him. How was it possible?

  Twenty-Five

  Dr. Melanie Engle wasn’t what Kaely expected. From past experience, she’d envisioned a much older woman with large glasses and hair that probably didn’t get much attention. Instead, Dr. Engle was around forty, and she wore her years well. Dark hair in a cute pixie cut. Large blue eyes. Makeup just right. Smoky eye shadow applied perfectly. Not overdone.

  After introductions, she led Kaely into her office, then closed the door and gestured toward two high-backed leather chairs in front of a large window. The room was painted cornflower blue, obviously intended to relax nervous clients. She offered Kaely a cup of coffee. Kaely started to say no, but then she realized she could use a pick-me-up.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That would be nice.” She sat down in one of the chairs as Dr. Engle walked over to a small coffee bar next to the wall.

  “Sugar? Sweetener? Cream?” the doctor asked.

  “Just black, thank you.”

  Doctor Engle handed Kaely a large china mug with flowers painted on it. Beautiful. Everything about the doctor spoke of refinement. Perfection. Her reactions were relaxed. Confident. No signs that she was hiding anything. No hint of nervousness. Of course, with her training, she would know how to control her physical responses.

  “I’m a little confused, Dr. Engle,” Ka
ely said. “These chairs. They seem designed for you and a client. If you don’t see any of the prisoners in this office, why are they positioned like this?”

  The doctor smiled as she took the seat across from Kaely, a cup of coffee already made and waiting for her on a small glass table that sat between them. “Prisoners and guards aren’t the only people I talk to. We have a rather large staff.”

  “The warden told us guards aren’t allowed back here either.”

  She nodded. “He was concerned that prisoners might take a guard hostage and force them to unlock this area. Some inmates have the idea that taking the warden of a prison hostage will buy them freedom. That’s a possibility we don’t want to test.” She shrugged. “This is a new concept. The state incorporated it after several instances of prison staff being killed by inmates. Hopefully, all prisons will incorporate it at some point.”

  “But aren’t the guards still at risk?”

  “Not as much as you might think. If there’s a riot, an alert sounds. All guards are ordered to proceed to the closest secure room, where they’re to lock themselves in. That has always been our procedure. But now, any guards near this area will be told to come here, where they’ll be brought inside. There’s no perfect system, but, frankly, I think we’ve reduced the danger a great deal. ”

  She smiled at Kaely. “I understand you’re interviewing everyone who’s had contact with Ed Oliphant?”

  “Yes. We’re looking for information, hoping someone will have an idea how my . . . at how Ed is getting messages out of the facility.”

  “You started to say my father, didn’t you?”

  Kaely placed her cup on the coffee table. “Yes. I’ve been asked to use our relationship in an attempt to get him to talk. So far, it hasn’t worked.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Kaely gave the doctor a slow smile. “I’m here to ask you questions, doctor. Not the other way around.”

  Dr. Engle’s perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure you understand that I can’t share anything your father has told me. But if you’ll allow me, I might be able to help you in a different way.”

  Kaely frowned. “A different way? What do you mean?”

  Dr. Engle crossed her hands in her lap and leaned forward. “I’d like to help you understand your father. I think it might help you in what you’re trying to do.”

  “Dr. Engle, I was trained as a behavioral analyst at Quantico. And I lived with the man for fourteen years. If anyone understands my father, it’s me. I seriously doubt you can teach me anything about Ed Oliphant.” She took a deep breath, trying to control her irritation. “He has an antisocial personality. Lacks empathy. He’s egotistical. Narcissistic. Can be glib. Loves to talk about himself. Opinionated. He can be charming if he wants to be. He demands instant gratification. He is violent. Aggressive. Manipulative. Displays predatory behavior. Has no remorse for anything he’s done.” She glared at the therapist. “Do I need to continue?”

  Dr. Engle was quiet for a moment. “I take it you know what the PCL-R is?”

  “Of course. It’s a psychological tool used to assess the presence of psychopathy. But you have to be qualified to administer it, and it’s only to be used under controlled conditions.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Dr. Engle said, her voice smooth and composed compared to Kaely’s. Kaely had allowed her anger to invade her response, and she struggled to restrain herself. It really wasn’t the doctor’s fault. Kaely’s nerves were already on edge before she saw the newspaper article. Why did reporters find her so fascinating? Would she always be known as the daughter of a serial killer?

  “I have my own version of the PCL-R,” the doctor continued. “Maybe it’s not as accurate as the official Psychopathy Checklist, but it’s worked pretty well for me.” She smoothed her dark gray skirt before speaking. It was clear she was evaluating her next move. Kaely felt guilty. The woman was only trying to help.

  “I’m sorry,” Kaely said lightly. “I really do want to hear what you have to say. This is the first time I’ve seen my father in twenty years.” She was relieved to see the doctor’s shoulders relax.

  Dr. Engle smiled. “That’s all right. I’m sure it’s difficult.”

  Kaely gazed around the room. For the first time, she noticed the framed Scriptures on the wall. The Bible on the desk. Usually Kaely scanned a room as soon as she entered it. She was clearly too distracted. “Warden Galloway told us about the Religion Center at Anamosa.”

  “Yes. We have over sixty volunteers.”

  “You’re a volunteer?”

  She nodded. “But I’m a trained Christian therapist.” She cocked her head toward a framed document on the wall, where Kaely saw a license from a school she’d heard of.

  “Why do you do this?” she asked.

  Without missing a beat, the doctor asked, “Why do you do what you do?”

  Kaely grudgingly gave the therapist that point. “What do you want to tell me?”

  The doctor stood to her feet, then got the coffeepot and warmed up their coffee. “Your father scores low on my test.”

  “How low?”

  She sat down again and locked eyes with Kaely. “Fifteen.”

  “That’s impossible. My father isn’t a fifteen, Dr. Engle. His score is off the charts.” Kaely sat back in her chair and studied her. “What are you trying to accomplish here?”

  “Your father tells me you’re a Christian.”

  Kaely’s eyebrows shot up. “How does he—” She sighed. “My brother, Jason.” She frowned at the doctor. “Have you met him, Dr. Engle?”

  “Melanie, please. Yes. Great young man.”

  Her comment elicited a smile. “Yes, he is. I wasn’t thrilled with his decision to visit our father, but I understand it, even though I think his hope that he can change him is misplaced.”

  “You don’t believe in forgiveness?”

  Kaely stared at the doctor with her mouth open. “Maybe some things can’t be forgiven. I mean, God forgives, of course, but it seems that sometimes people can’t. I’ve tried. I really have. But my father not only destroyed the lives of all those innocent women, he shattered our family.”

  She looked down at the floor. She was losing control in front of this woman, and she didn’t like it. “Look, I’ve given this to God. I’m willing to forgive, but I can’t do it on my own. God will have to do it through me . . . somehow.” She looked up at Melanie. “Do you mind if we get back to why I wanted to talk to you?”

  The doctor nodded. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

  “Has my father said or done anything that leads you to believe he’s orchestrating these . . . copycat killings? Iowa has a law that makes it mandatory for mental health professionals to report it when they believe patients may pose a danger to themselves or to others. You know that, right?”

  “Yes, Agent Quinn, I’m aware of the law. If I believed that was the case, I would immediately contact the authorities. But I can assure you I don’t feel the situation necessitates it.”

  Kaely studied her for a moment. “Somehow, details of my father’s killings kept from the public have gotten out. Someone is helping him. Is it you, Melanie?”

  Kaely watched the doctor’s reaction. She was looking for deception. A physical clue that would tell her the good doctor was hiding something. Melanie’s eyes widened in surprise, but she never broke eye contact.

  “No, it isn’t me,” she said, her voice steady. “Look, your dad and I talk about his history. The way he was raised. We try to find reasons for his past actions. We’ve made some progress, but we have a long way to go.”

  “What do you mean . . . the way he was raised?” As she told Noah, Kaely didn’t know much about her father’s upbringing. His sister died when she was a child. His mother died, and his father abandoned the family. He was raised by his grandparents. He never talked about them.

  “Now we’re headed in a direction I can’t go.” Melanie scooted forward in
her chair, so she was closer to Kaely. “I would help you if I could. I’m sorry.”

  “You can tell me nothing that will help us stop these murders?”

  Melanie hesitated a moment. “No, not really. Have you interviewed the inmates and guards who have contact with Ed? That would be my recommendation. Maybe he’s talking to one of them. But that’s just a guess.”

  Kaely shook her head. “That’s next.”

  “Look, Kaely, you have my word. If at any time I have reason to believe he’s training someone to follow in his footsteps, I’ll contact law enforcement immediately. But if your father is sharing details of his crimes, it isn’t with me.”

  Kaely was about to stand when the doctor reached over and put her hand on Kaely’s arm.

  “What you’ve been through, having your life ravaged by finding out who your dad really was, had to be devastating. Children who suddenly discover one of their parents isn’t the person they thought they were, that they’re capable of great evil . . . well, it can cause a child to fracture. To create unhealthy ways to protect themselves. They can withdraw from people. Become afraid everyone is lying to them.”

  She glanced down at the small silver cross Kaely wore on a chain. “They may even turn to God. But the truth is they could end up holding back part of themselves even from Him. Anger and trauma can cause people to struggle in heartbreaking ways.” She removed her hand and sat back in her chair. “Without help, these children may live emotionally stunted their entire lives.” She smiled. “If you’d like someone to talk to—”

  Kaely stood. “Thank you, Melanie, but I don’t need your help. I’m here about my father. Not me.”

  “Kaely, many times these children enter law enforcement as a way to try to understand what happened. How the parent they loved and trusted could do such terrible things. But no one can find deliverance through studying the psychological makeup of serial killers. There’s a spiritual aspect as well. If you don’t understand that, you’ll never find the answers you’re looking for.”