I Can Hunt: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 2)

Home > Other > I Can Hunt: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 2) > Page 3
I Can Hunt: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 2) Page 3

by Angela Kay


  “You didn’t want to get married?” Shaun asked.

  “No, I did. Very much so,” Jones said with a sigh. “You know how women are, right? When they want marriage, they want it now, and they’ll throw out hints. Order bridal magazines, talk about songs for the reception, ask other married couples about their weddings…it’s just that work left little time for much else. I started this firm with my dad, and we’ve been getting clients in like crazy. I wanted to set a good foundation for our financial future before we tied the knot.”

  “What cases does your firm handle?” Aidan wondered.

  “Civil law,” Chris answered.

  “Have you or your father made any enemies since you’ve opened? Maybe one you lost a case, upsetting a client?”

  “We’ve lost a few, but I don’t see how those clients could be capable of…that.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Shaun interjected. “We only need to tie any possible links to your fiancé. Will you give us a list of your clients?”

  After a brief hesitation, Chris nodded. “Sure, I’ll print out a spreadsheet for you.” He turned to the computer, then began to tap his fingers against the keyboard.

  “While you were out yesterday, did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

  Chris shook his head slowly, narrowing his eyes as if he was thinking back. His fingers froze on the keys before he started to type again. “No.”

  “And no one approached either of you?” Aidan asked. “She didn’t seem upset about something? Even if she didn’t mention what it was?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t recall anything of that nature. I’m trying to think, but…”

  “It’s okay,” Aidan assured him.

  “How did your father get along with Stephanie?”

  Chris stopped typing and turned his head toward Shaun. “I’m sorry?”

  “Were your father and fiancé friends? Did they not care for one another? Tell us about their relationship from your viewpoint.”

  Chris narrowed his eyes, then pushed out a breath. “To be honest, Dad wasn’t crazy about Steph, but he accepted her.”

  Shaun watched Chris watch him for a few more seconds before he nodded and scribbled in his pad.

  “What?” Chris said.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. My father…he comes from a long line of lawyers in his family. Both of his parents were lawyers and their parents before him. He wanted me to be with someone who practiced law. Like keeping a family tradition going. And Stephanie fit perfectly his ideal. For a little while, at least. Her dad was a lawyer too.”

  “Why did she change careers?”

  “She wasn’t happy,” Chris said with a shrug. “I guess her heart just wasn’t in it. I remember one time joking that she should be a children’s teacher. Every time she was with kids, her eyes would just light up.” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “One day, she had lunch with a friend who worked at Briarpatch Academy. When Steph found out there was an opening, she immediately applied, then got the job. It didn’t please him. But my dad didn’t dislike her so much that he’d kill her. It was more like he felt she was insane for choosing a life surrounded by screaming rug rats, as he calls them, over a respectable profession that’s a foundation of our country, the law.”

  “She didn’t discuss it with you before making the career move?”

  Chris clicked his mouse and the printer woke from its sleep.

  “She didn’t, but she knew I’d support her. I just wanted her to be happy. And she was. Happy wife happy life after all.” A weak smile tempted the corners of his mouth.

  Several pages shot out from the mouth of the printer and Chris picked them up, holding his client list over the desk.

  Shaun accepted the papers and quietly skimmed over the names.

  Aidan pulled the printouts of the Phinizy Swamp students from his files. Lieutenant Christensen had made sure he received them before they began their inquiries.

  “Mr. Jones, can you tell me if you recognize any of these people?” Aidan spread the three photos across the desk and watched as the lawyer studied each one before slowly shaking his head.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He looked up. “Should I?”

  “These three students were on a class trip at Phinizy Swamp,” Shaun explained. “One of them was killed, another in critical condition. Their names are Leon Quick, Ray Parsons, and Rachel Amos. They all go to Evans High School.”

  Chris looked at the photos again.

  “We wanted to count out possible connections because there are slight similarities to the murders,” Aidan continued.

  Again, Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we know them. At least I don’t. But…I do remember hearing something on the news about a murder at the swamp. Was it them?”

  Shaun nodded. “Ray Parsons was killed. His friend, Leon Quick is in a coma, but Rachel Parsons is still alive, though traumatized.”

  Chris whistled. “Such a shame. So much wrong with this world these days. I don’t see how high schoolers could be connected with Stephanie, though.”

  “Okay,” Aidan said, gathering the photos and slipping them into his file folder. “Let’s go back to the last couple of months. Have you noticed any sudden changes in your fiancé? Any mood swings, did she seem worried? Stressed? Was she being secretive?”

  “No,” Chris said. “Everything was normal. Like I said, she started hinting about us getting married, but that was it.”

  “Did Stephanie like to hunt?” Shaun wondered.

  “Hunt?” Chris scoffed. “Not at all. She hated guns. And she loved being a part of nature too much to even think of killing an animal. Why?”

  “There were some words carved in a tree.” Shaun passed him a photograph taken from the scene.

  Chris frowned down at it. “The hunt stops here.’”

  “Do you have an idea what that may mean?” Aidan asked him.

  Chris considered the question before looking up. “No, I don’t.”

  “Is there anything else we may need to know? It can be something that may have seemed insignificant at the time.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t think of anything.”

  “Very well. You can get in touch with us if you do think of something later.”

  “You’ll let me know of any updates?”

  “Of course,” Aidan replied. He extended his hand to shake the lawyer’s. “Is your father around? We’d like to question him while we’re here.”

  “He is, but I believe he’s with a client at the moment.”

  “Not a problem,” Shaun said. “We can wait.”

  “His office is number two hundred and three,” Chris informed them. “I’ll give him a call to let him know you need to speak with him.”

  “Thank you.” Aidan twisted the doorknob and pulled it open. After he and Shaun stepped out, he turned to his partner. “Let’s run a background check on the fiancé and see if he has any dirty laundry.”

  Shaun already had his phone in his hand before Aidan finished speaking. As he requested for an agent to perform the search, they walked toward the elder partner’s office, only a few feet away. Aidan rapped his knuckles against the door, and they waited.

  A few seconds later, it opened, revealing an older man with graying hair.

  Before speaking, he studied them. “You must be Agents Henderson and O’Reilly,” Mr. Jones acknowledged.

  “Yes,” Shaun said as he slipped his cellphone into its holder on his hip. “Do you have a few minutes to talk to us?”

  “I do,” Mr. Jones answered. “I’m finishing up with a client. Give me one second if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Of course,” Shaun agreed. Mr. Jones shut the door and Shaun leaned up against the wall, studying the client list he held. “I don’t recognize any of these names right off the bat.”

  Aidan muttered underneath his breath as he typed out a text message to Cheyenne, asking her how she and Laura were doing with unpackin
g. Almost immediately, she responded that they were both working up a sweat. Aidan informed her he would be home as soon as he could to help.

  Cheyenne’s response was not to hurry, that she and her sister were doing fine on their own.

  They had met through Laura, who had been Aidan’s one-time date. When he picked Laura up, he was introduced to Cheyenne, and they had connected. Laura had never been one to date one man for long, so when she realized Aidan was smitten with her older sister, she started to play matchmaker.

  Cheyenne had always been intrigued by Aidan’s career choice, but when they’d developed a deeper relationship, Cheyenne began to feel uneasy about the dangers of his job. She had even hoped to convince Aidan to take a job teaching at Quantico. Things changed in her mind regarding his career, however, he knew she still wished he didn’t have to go out on the field as much. Of course, his job was dangerous, so he understood her feelings.

  He sent her another text, and her response came through as the office door opened and Mr. Jones and his middle-aged client appeared. They shook hands, and walking away, Aidan caught the client eyeing his badge hooked on the side of his pants.

  “Please come on in, agents,” Mr. Jones said with a wave of his hand. “Forgive me for taking longer than I intended.”

  “It’s no problem, sir,” Aidan replied. “We appreciate you speaking to us on such short notice.”

  “Of course.” Mr. Jones went around his desk and sat in the leather rolling chair. “It’s so terrible about Stephanie. What happened?”

  “She was shot. In the back. Her body was found in the woods behind her house by the housekeeper.”

  “Close range? Did she know her killer?”

  “The autopsy report hasn’t come back yet,” Aidan replied. “We’re unsure of some of the details. What we can tell you is that according to the housekeeper, Stephanie was supposed to be at a meeting at the time of her death.”

  “The housekeeper had completed her cleaning,” Shaun interjected, “and when she went to let the dog back in, she noticed Stephanie’s car was still in the carport. The dog had actually found her.”

  “We’re not sure why she was back there to begin with,” Aidan added.

  “Perhaps she thought she heard a noise and went to investigate,” the lawyer offered.

  “Perhaps,” Aidan agreed.

  “Could it have been a robbery?” Mr. Jones wondered.

  “It’s possible, although according to the housekeeper, nothing seemed to be missing,” Shaun answered. “We’re not discounting anything until we receive the autopsy report. Mr. Jones, when was the last time you’ve seen or spoken to Stephanie?”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Jones muttered, scratching the back of his head. “Last week, I believe. Wednesday night.”

  “Can you tell us what transpired?” Aidan asked.

  Mr. Jones narrowed his eyes with curiosity, then said, “Not much. We were having a family gathering. She came, stayed a little while, then left.”

  “What’s ‘a little while?’” Aidan wondered.

  “She left around six, before we had a chance to have our dinner.”

  “Was there a reason why she left so early?”

  Mr. Jones paused. “Not to my recollection.”

  “What was your personal opinion of Stephanie?” Aidan asked.

  “My opinion? She was a nice young lady, though not quite someone I’d choose for Chris.”

  “Right. Your son mentioned you didn’t care much for Stephanie,” Shaun said.

  “Oh, no, of course not, it wasn’t like that,” Mr. Jones replied, eyes wide. He snickered. “I mean, I liked her, but I felt my son could have found someone to…better suit him.”

  “You mean a dedicated lawyer?” Aidan said.

  “I only want what’s best for my son. You understand.”

  “Of course,” Shaun acknowledged. “So, you didn’t interact with her much?”

  “She was dating Chris, not me.”

  “All right, then. How would you rate your son’s relationship with Stephanie?”

  Mr. Jones narrowed his eyes again. “I’m a lawyer, Agent O’Reilly. I know where this is going. In murders, you look at the significant others first. Well, let me assure you, my son could not have murdered her. Despite what myself or anyone else wanted, he loved her.”

  “I’m sure,” Aidan agreed. “And as a lawyer, I’m sure you understand these questions aren’t anything but standard procedure.”

  He watched Mr. Jones’ gaze carefully.

  “My apologies,” Mr. Jones said, glancing at his watch after a few seconds ticked by. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t. And I’ve got a full day’s worth of clients. I’d really like to not get too far behind.”

  Exchanging glances with Shaun, Aidan nodded. Once they gathered more information on Stephanie Carpenter, they would have more to go on and could question him later. His partner leaned forward to drop a card on the desk.

  “In case something comes to mind,” Shaun told him.

  “Will do.”

  Aidan followed Shaun out the door and once they were out of earshot, he said, “Mr. Jones shut down pretty quickly after we started inquiring about his son.”

  “You noticed that too, huh?” Shaun replied with a quick glance over his shoulder. “Wonder what he’s hiding?”

  “I’m not sure,” Aidan muttered. “What are you thinking?”

  “The circumstances could be purely coincidental,” Shaun replied. “Just a father’s protective instinct kicking in.”

  “Yeah.” Aidan pushed through the front door and stepped outside.

  “Either of the Jones boys could’ve found out about the carving at the first crime and decided to blame it on a nonexistent serial killer to throw us off track.”

  “I suppose it’s easy enough for a lawyer to get the inside info,” Aidan agreed.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” Shaun suggested. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Aidan pointed out. “Didn’t we just have burgers a couple of hours ago?”

  Shaun patted his large midsection. “I’m a growing boy. I need to fuel myself. And I’m in the mood for that pizza you ordered.”

  “All right. We’ll stop at the house, then. Laura and Cheyenne probably have leftovers.”

  “I think Laura likes me,” Shaun said with a smirk.

  “Yeah?”

  Shaun nodded. “Maybe I’ll ask her out.”

  Aidan snickered as he opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. Once Shaun was behind the wheel, he regarded his partner, eyebrow arched with curiosity.

  “Nothing to say about it?”

  Aidan looked at him, then lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Good luck?”

  Shaun opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it as he shook his head.

  “Just you wait, O’Reilly. Just you wait.”

  5

  THE INSIDE OF Briarpatch Academy, where Stephanie Carpenter taught pre-school, was small and homely, with drawings wallpapered behind the front desk. Aidan noticed several drawings signed by students who had scrawled out Stephanie’s name, leaving tender notes of appreciation. On another wall were class photos with Stephanie and the toddlers.

  Propped next to the computer monitor sat an excellence in teaching award from the year before.

  Aidan walked up to the desk. A middle-aged man sat behind the computer, his nametag reading Kirk.

  “Good afternoon,” he said as his fingertips continued to fly across the keyboard. With a final tap of his right pinky finger, Kirk looked up at his visitors. “Welcome to Briarpatch Academy. Is there something I can do to help you, folks? Are you interested in the open house?”

  “No, thank you, my twins are definitely not of preschool age.” Shaun smirked. “Although some of the pranks they play on me say otherwise. I’m FBI Special Agent Shaun Henderson, this is Special Agent Aidan O’Reilly. We’re here to speak to someone about Stephanie Carpenter.”

  “I’m afra
id Miss Carpenter isn’t here today,” Kirk replied.

  “How well did you know her?” Aidan asked.

  Kirk eyed both agents with curiosity. “She’s a nice young lady. She spends most of her time with the kids other than me. I admit it’s strange she didn’t show up for work. She’s never been late before. What’s this about? Is she okay?”

  “Have you noticed changes in her mood over the last few weeks?” Shaun evaded.

  “I’m not so sure I understand the question,” Kirk said slowly.

  “Did she seem worried, distracted, like something could perhaps have been bothering her?”

  “No,” Kirk replied. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  “What time is she normally at work?”

  “She comes in around seven, maybe seven-thirty. In fact, she was supposed to be here at six-thirty for a meeting this morning. I called her cell, but she didn’t answer. It’s not like her at all. Is Miss Carpenter in trouble?”

  “I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Carpenter was found dead early this morning,” Aidan replied.

  Kirk’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, did you say she’s…?”

  “I’m afraid so. Someone shot her at her home earlier this morning.”

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t…she’s really dead?” He sat back in his chair, exhaling loudly.

  “Is there someone here with whom she may have been especially close?” Aidan asked, “Someone she may have confided in?”

  “Yeah, that’d be Alexandria Reeves. She’s Miss Carpenter’s best friend. One of them—I can’t remember which—got the other a job here. When Miss Carpenter didn’t show up, Miss Reeves had to cover for her.”

  “We’re going to need to speak with her,” Shaun said.

  At first, Kirk didn’t move, only sat in his chair, dumbstruck.

  “Now,” Aidan commanded.

  “Okay, I’ll go get her,” Kirk said, his words monotonous. He slowly pushed back in his chair and stood. “She’s really…?”

  Aidan nodded in confirmation.

  “Wow. I mean, I just saw…wow.”

  After he disappeared from earshot, Aidan studied the photographs more carefully. Her face glowed with pride as she grinned at the camera in a class photo. Students surrounding her beamed at her. Another photo showed Stephanie in a group hug, pretending her students were squeezing the breath out of her, the children’s head tilted back in laughter.

 

‹ Prev