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

by Angela Kay

  “Yeah, she started hitting him, then stormed out. Ryan followed her and they left.”

  “Next thing we know, the cops arrest both of them for reckless driving while intoxicated.”

  “It took a long time for them to get over it, but they did, eventually. Ryan stopped being unfaithful. He always loved Jessie. I never got why he couldn’t keep it in his pants. But after the accident, it’s like he found God or something.”

  “Did you happen to notice anyone strange hanging around?” Aidan asked, “In the time before their disappearance?”

  “No,” Randy said.

  “Hold up,” Danny said. “I think I do remember something.”

  He looked down on the ground as he reflected on the memory. He shook his head slowly.

  “There was this guy Jessie mentioned one day,” he said finally. “I don’t know who he is, or what he looked like, but he gave Jess a weird vibe.”

  “Whoa,” Randy said, his eyes shining with remembrance. “It’s that guy who showed up at the soup kitchen, right? Jessie said he was talking to her, acting all weird.”

  “Do you know what he said?” Aidan pressed.

  “Not sure, but he was asking her something about repentance and forgiveness.”

  “It’s coming back, now,” Danny said. “I remember Jess telling us the man was ‘hunting’ for the release of his pain.”

  Shaun arched a brow. “He used that exact word? ‘Hunt’?”

  Danny nodded. “We thought it was an odd way to talk. Something about it really scared her, but Ryan told her he was probably some drunk who couldn’t keep his head above water,”

  “How long before they disappeared did this incident happen?” Aidan asked. He took out his pad and scribbled what they were telling him. The Scavenger Hunter spoke to Jessie directly. Was he trying to get her to confess her guilt?

  “I think it was a couple of days before,” Danny answered.

  As Danny spoke, Aidan’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and stepped aside.

  “O’Reilly.”

  “It’s Lieutenant Christensen.” There was an edge in his voice. “You know who the Scavenger Hunter is? When are you going to arrest him? Do you need help with my team?”

  “How did you hear that I know who it is?”

  At his question, Shaun turned to regard him.

  “It’s on the news. That reporter from WJFX mentioned it.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Aidan told him. “I’ll touch base with you ASAP.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Aidan ended the call and looked at his partner.

  “Right,” Shaun said with a single nod. “Let’s go see what our reporter buddy has to say.”

  41

  When he returned to the office, Aidan watched the news in awe as Jordan Blake once again droned on, this time bragging about getting firsthand information that Aidan knew who the killer was. The reporter accused him of withholding facts that could save the life of another person, mentioning that if another life is claimed, then FBI Special Agent Aidan O’Reilly would have blood on his hands.

  He and Shaun had staged an argument in the breakroom about Aidan’s sudden shutdown in his knowledge of the case. Since he and Shaun had gotten good at bantering since the day they met, their argument came close to turning into being a real one, both falling easily into their plan.

  They had waited until a certain agent was alone and within earshot.

  Of course, Aidan still had no idea who the offender was.

  It was likely someone close to Bryce Van Camp. Was it his father? For all Aidan knew, it could be a close friend.

  But Jordan didn’t know Aidan had no clue.

  Neither did Jordan’s informant.

  He frowned, feeling himself disappointed, because soon, he would have to bust the leak in the FBI office, under Monroe’s command. And it wasn’t a random agent. It was someone whom he would have bet his entire career that was not the leak.

  An agent whom he had considered a friend for the last few months.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”

  Aidan turned at the sound of Shaun’s voice, shock still resonating across his face. He held a half-eaten blueberry muffin in his hand, shaking his head.

  “It can’t be him. He’s been with us for over ten years. A good agent.”

  “He’s the only one who ‘overheard’ our argument,” Aidan said, using air quotes. He shook his head. “It’s him. I don’t like it either, Shaun.”

  “Have you told Monroe yet?”

  Aidan shook his head.

  “Good,” Shaun said, his voice strained. “I want us to talk to him first. He’s a good man. If he’s talking to Blake, he’s got to have a good reason.”

  “As you wish, but we’ll have to tell Monroe regardless of what he says.”

  “I know,” Shaun said sadly. He tossed his barely touched muffin into a trashcan. “Let’s go find him.”

  Aidan followed him to talk to Jordan Blake’s informant. Once they reached his desk, he rose.

  “I was just about to come find you,” he said. “I’ve located Bryce Van Camp’s mother.”

  “Good,” Shaun said. He looked around the busy office, then back at the informant. “Douglas…we need to talk.”

  Douglas glanced at his watch. “I’m due for court in a bit, but I’ve got some time. What’s up?”

  “Not here,” Aidan told him. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

  Douglas narrowed his eyes with concern, glanced at Aidan, then Shaun. Realization and sadness crept over his features as he realized what was going on.

  “Oh.”

  “Let’s go.” Shaun motioned with his head toward where the conference rooms were located. “I don’t want us to cause a scene.”

  “Me neither,” Douglas said, his voice cracking.

  Douglas led them through the array of desks until they reached an empty room.

  Aidan shut the door behind them.

  “How can you do this?” Shaun said, his arms crossed over his chest. An angry vein seemed to protrude from his large neck. “You’re Jordan Blake’s informant. You’re the leak.”

  “Listen, I can explain.” Douglas held his hands out as if to keep him at bay. His eyes grew wide, shining with anguish.

  “How can you explain away giving confidential information to a reporter?” Aidan asked, his voice a near growl. “There is no explanation. No excuses.”

  Douglas opened his mouth to protest, then with a sigh, leaned against the table, looking down at the floor in defeat.

  “You’re right,” Douglas said quietly. “You need to know that I’ve never leaked anything before now.” He looked up. “And I told Blake the last time that it was the last time.”

  “Why did you do it at all?” Shaun asked, ignoring the speech.

  Douglas hesitated.

  “He asked you a question,” Aidan said through his teeth, clutching his fists into a ball. He worked hard not to take a step forward. Anger fueled him, and if he moved, he was afraid he’d do something he’d later regret.

  “Blake paid me for the intel. I needed the money.”

  “What could possibly be worth selling your soul, destroying your career over?” Shaun pressed, his voice rising.

  “My wife’s been very sick,” Douglas explained, his voice in a whisper. “Cancer. We couldn’t afford the medical bills. Blake…he gave me a way out. I’m ashamed to say I took it. But…at the same time…I’d probably do it again. You understand, right?”

  Neither Aidan nor Shaun spoke as the tension in the room grew, making Aidan sweat.

  Shaun finally released an audible sigh. “I’m sorry about your wife, Douglas. I really am.”

  “I am too,” Aidan said.

  “You could have come to me,” Shaun continued, shaking his head. “I would have done anything I could have to help you. So would Monroe. There wasn’t a need to betray us. Betray your company.”

  “I know,” Douglas told him. “At the time, I was
desperate. I wasn’t thinking. She was sick and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. She’s my world. So, when Blake approached me, I felt I had no choice.”

  Aidan made a mental note to make Jordan Blake suffer for the damage he’d done. He could understand where Douglas was coming from. Love was a powerful tool, and Jordan Blake knew how to use it.

  “Then I’d gotten too far into it,” Douglas continued. “After our conference last week, I decided I couldn’t betray the team anymore. So, I went to Blake’s office and told him I was pulling out. He offered me double the money. I took it and told him I’d get him one more piece of information.”

  The room fell into another harsh silence.

  “You going to turn me in now?” Douglas managed.

  Shaun looked at Aidan, who shook his head.

  “No, Douglas, you are,” Aidan replied. “Consider it your last chance for repentance.”

  With a short nod, Douglas began to walk out of the conference room, his steps slow. “Bryce Van Camp’s mother’s information is written down on my desk.”

  “We appreciate it,” Shaun said.

  Before walking away, Douglas paused, then turned back, shame of what he’d done etched across his face.

  “Promise me one thing,” he said. He paused a beat. “Find this guy.”

  Not waiting for an answer, Douglas turned and continued to walk toward Monroe’s office.

  Shaun and Aidan went to his desk for the information.

  “Did you know that about his wife?” Aidan asked, feeling hollow inside. Mixed feelings raged within him and he needed to punch something, throw something…do something to unleash the anger. And he needed to do it before he faced Jordan Blake again.

  Shaun shook his head in response to the question. “No.”

  “I can’t help but wonder. If I was in desperate need to save Cheyenne, would I have done the same thing?”

  “Probably,” Shaun said. “As good a man as you are, Aidan, if there was a chance to save someone you love, you’d jump at it. Love blinds us all. It makes us all desperate.”

  They watched Douglas, who waited by Monroe’s door, then stepped inside the office.

  “That doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Aidan muttered in a sigh.

  “No,” Shaun agreed, “It doesn’t.”

  42

  “We appreciate you meeting with us, Mrs. Van Camp,” Shaun began as he sat in a chair on one side of the end table while Aidan chose the chair on the other side. Bryce’s mother ran her hands on the back of her skirt as she lowered herself to the couch.

  “Of course, Agent Henderson.” Norma Van Camp crossed her ankles. “Oh, can I get you gentlemen something to drink? Or to eat? I had just taken my Bundt cake out of the oven. It’s triple chocolate, triple delicious.” Mrs. Van Camp smiled. “It won first place in our church’s Holiday festival three years in a row.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Shaun said.

  From the corner of his eyes, Aidan was sure he saw his friend licked his lips, although he shook his head to decline.

  “Thank you for the offer, though.”

  Mrs. Van Camp snickered. “Your loss, but then again, it’s more for me. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

  “We’re actually here about your son, Bryce,” Aidan began.

  Mrs. Van Camp blinked, then drew in a deep breath, pushing it out with a nod. “I was afraid you would eventually come.”

  “You were?”

  “Yes. I watch the news all the time. When I heard about what happened to that young boy at the swamp, and then the woman, it didn’t click immediately. But after hearing about Judge Paris’ sons, it all fell together. It was…as if I’d been thrown back to years ago. It took me back to my son’s murder. And I knew you’d want to talk to me about Bryce. It’s too much of a coincidence to not be about him in some way.”

  His murder, she had said, Aidan noted. Bryce’s mother must not have considered her son a victim of a senseless vehicle accident, but a target of murder.

  “But I’m afraid I won’t be too much help,” she said. “I didn’t keep in contact with any of those families. Why should I?”

  “We’re sorry to find out what had happened to your son,” Shaun said. “It’s such a terrible tragedy.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Van Camp said quietly. “It took a lot of time for us all to heal. There are still some days that I struggle to cope, but I do miss him every single day.”

  “I’m sure,” Shaun agreed.

  “Bryce’s death took a toll on us all,” Mrs. Van Camp continued. “We all went our separate ways. My husband took to drinking all the time, to the point of not being able to get up in the morning for work. We fought often, eventually got divorced. Bryce’s middle brother grew distant, eventually cutting ties with us all, and his younger started finding himself in jail. It-it was a lot.” She trailed off, then shook her head slowly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m babbling on like an idiot.”

  “No,” Shaun told her. “You’re completely fine. I have children myself. Twin girls. To think of losing them in an accident like that…it’s unfathomable. As a parent, my heart hurts for you.”

  “How kind of you.” Mrs. Van Camp frowned. “But I don’t believe it was an accident. “My son was murdered by that couple, and the justice system did nothing.”

  “Why do you suppose it’s murder?” Shaun wondered.

  “It could have been avoided,” she replied sternly. “That girl was drunk. She shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. And to make matters worse, neither one of them got time. They were patted on their backs and told to go their way.” She frowned. “How can it be anything but murder?”

  “Do you feel all those involved should be held accountable?” Aidan wondered.

  “Why, yes, of course. Don’t you think so? If those who do wrong aren’t punished, how are they to learn?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Aidan said slowly. “Mrs. Van Camp, why don’t you tell us a bit more about your family.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Tell us about their relationship with Bryce.”

  “My sons miss their brother something fierce. My youngest, Max, has been getting into a lot of trouble since Bryce’s death. He hadn’t found a way to cope.”

  “In trouble in what way?” Aidan wondered.

  “He was four when Bryce was killed,” Mrs. Van Camp said. “That’s an age where boys are barely beginning to grow into their own person, and Max had always been impressionable. He and Bryce were close. Bryce’s murder…it destroyed him. It took years, actually, before Max could come to terms with…Bryce’s…death.”

  Mrs. Van Camp sniffed, then rose. “Excuse me. I believe I need a glass of water. Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

  “We’re fine,” Shaun told her. “Thanks.”

  Mrs. Van Camp stepped out of the room.

  Aidan and Shaun waited in silence until she returned with a glass of iced water. She took a sip as she lowered herself into the chair.

  “That’s better. Anyway, where was I?”

  “You were telling us about your sons,” Aidan reminded her.

  “Oh, right. My middle son, Elijah, handled things a little better. He never could find himself to be close to Bryce. They loved each other, of course. But they weren’t interested in the same things. They had different friends, different aspirations. And Elijah kept more to himself. A lot went on in that mind of his, but he wouldn’t share his thoughts.”

  “What about your husband?” Shaun inquired.

  “Ex,” Mrs. Van Camp corrected. “Ex-husband. He loved Bryce. So much. They did just about everything together. There wasn’t anything my ex-husband wouldn’t do for Bryce. When Bryce died, he changed. He started drinking more and more. We fought about it. I stayed for as long as I could, but how can I stay with a man who won’t talk to me, unless, of course, he screamed?”

  “Did he seek help?” Aidan wondered.

  She nodded. “Several times throughout t
he years. He’d gone to several rehab facilities for different lengths of times, different states. It never stuck. The longest he stopped drinking was three months. Then something would knock him right back on it. Max tells me he finally stopped drinking for good now. I hope he has, for his sake and the boys.”

  “So, you don’t stay in touch with him?”

  She hesitated and looked away toward the window. “I don’t.”

  Aidan allowed Shaun to continue the questioning while he took his time to study Mrs. Van Camp. Her answers seemed informative, but Aidan thought there was something she wasn’t mentioning. Did she know more than she was saying about the recent murders? Did she know something about Jessie and Ryan’s disappearances?

  It seemed as if his partner was reading his mind.

  “Mrs. Van Camp,” Shaun began, “Do you know whether or not your ex-husband has ever had contact with Jessie Barcliff or Ryan James?”

  She frowned at the question, looking back at him. “Why would he?”

  “Could it be possible he blamed them for Bryce’s death?” Shaun pressed.

  “It was their fault,” Mrs. Van Camp said pointedly. “That… girl…was drunk and she wasn’t paying attention to the road. You don’t take your eyes off the road any more than you should drive drunk. That’s how accidents happen. But she did. She murdered my boy when she pinned him to a tree with her car.”

  “And it made matters worse, didn’t it,” Aidan finally said, “When they got nothing more than community service?”

  Mrs. Van Camp narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you insinuating?”

  “Does your ex-husband hunt, Mrs. Van Camp?” Aidan asked.

  “Yes,” she replied with hesitation. “It’s something he and Bryce loved to do together. Every time the season opened, they were out in the woods, hunting deer. Max, too. I’m sorry, but what are you trying to say? You don’t think my husband is behind this?”

  Aidan shook his head. “We’re exploring all possibilities, ma’am.”