by Blake Pierce
Before Riley could say another word, Morris ended the call.
Riley sat staring at the phone, flabbergasted.
She remembered something else Mike had said about Morgan’s lawyer …
“All he’ll care about is doing his best for his client.”
But that didn’t seem to be true at all.
Chet Morris seemed to be completely indifferent to the possibility that his client was innocent.
What’s going on here? she wondered.
All she knew for sure was that she needed someone else’s help. She reminded herself that she couldn’t involve any of her usual allies at Quantico. But it occurred to her that she knew someone she could turn to in situations like this.
Last January, when she was on a case in Seattle, she’d met a very intelligent FBI technical analyst. Since then, he’d been willing to help her again, and under somewhat unorthodox circumstances.
She looked up the number and dialed, and soon heard Van Roff’s gruff, husky voice.
“Agent Riley Paige, as I live and breathe. What kind of trouble are you going to make for me today?”
Riley smiled as she imagined the overweight, socially inept technician noticing her name on his caller ID.
“I need your help, Van,” she said.
“Nothing to do with the fiend I will not name?”
Riley was startled. The only research Roff had ever refused to do for her had involved a criminal mastermind named Shane Hatcher.
“No, he’s still in prison.”
“Is it something legitimate?”
“Not exactly, I’m afraid.”
Van Roff let out a snort of approval.
“Then count me in,” he said. “Things have been pretty boring out here lately.”
Riley filled him in on the whole story so far. When she finished telling him about her conversation with the lawyer he said, “Wait a minute. Are you sure you didn’t call the prosecuting attorney by mistake?”
“I’m sure,” Riley said.
“What’s wrong with that guy?”
“I was hoping you could help me figure that out. There must be some reason why Chet Morris is acting this way.”
Van Roff fell silent for a moment. Then Riley heard his fingers rattling over his keyboard.
Finally he said, “Huh. This is kind of interesting.”
“What have you got?” Riley asked.
“Chet Morris’s law firm—Gurney, Dunn, and Morris—represented Andrew Farrell when he was alive. All three of the lawyers used to work on cases for him. What do you make of that?”
Riley felt a sharp prickle of interest.
She said, “So Morgan Farrell’s defending attorney used to represent the murdered man himself. That’s kind of weird.”
Riley heard Roff’s fingers rattle some more.
Then he said, “Here’s something else. The Atlanta DA, Seth Musil, is prosecuting the case. He also used to work with Gurney, Dunn, and Morris. While he was there he also worked on cases for Andrew Farrell. So the prosecuting attorney had a cozy professional relationship with the defending lawyer. How suspicious is that? Do you think maybe we’re looking at some kind of conspiracy?”
Riley thought for a moment.
“No, I doubt that,” she said. “It’s not completely surprising that Morgan would use the same law firm as her husband. It’s not at all smart of her, though. There might be plenty of reasons why Gurney, Dunn, and Morris want to wrap up this case without a lot of fuss. They have reason to be perfectly happy with Morgan’s confession.”
Her mind boggled at the whole idea. Morgan Farrell’s fate lay in the hands of a bunch of her husband’s cronies. And a misogynist like Farrell might very well have vented to them about the frustrations of his current marriage. They weren’t likely to be the most sympathetic people in Morgan’s life.
Roff said, “It sounds like we’re dealing with some serious professional incompetence, if not malpractice.”
“It sure does,” Riley said. “The thing is, what am I going to do about it? I’m not exactly in a position to set things right.”
Roff let out a low rumbling chuckle.
“Heh. I wouldn’t say that. Just fix things the old-fashioned way. Catch the real killer. So what if you don’t have permission? That’s never stopped you in the past.”
Riley was pleased. She’d definitely called just the right guy for help.
She thought for a moment, then said, “Van, I’ve got an idea—”
Roff interrupted, “Yeah, and I think I’ve got the same idea. Give me just a minute.”
She heard his fingers rattling again.
Riley smiled.
It felt good to be working with someone so completely on her own wavelength.
Just a few minutes later, she heard Van Roff’s triumphant chuckle.
CHAPTER TEN
“Bingo!” Roff said.
Riley was thrilled by his triumphant tone. As his typing continued, she waited impatiently to find out more.
She knew exactly what Roff was up to. He’d been looking for other recent crimes of a similar nature. Possibly—just possibly—Andrew Farrell’s murder was part of an ongoing pattern. And it sure sounded as though Van Roff had found something interesting.
Riley finally interrupted him. “Tell me what you’ve got,” she said.
“There was a knife murder in Birmingham just last Friday—another rich guy, although not as high-profile as Andrew Farrell. This one was Julian Morse, an heir to a family that made its fortune back in Birmingham’s big steel days. He wound up in banking.”
“So he was also stabbed to death?” Riley asked.
“More than to death, just like Farrell. Multiple wounds. Copious blood. The cops there are treating it as a local matter. But it sounds like kind of a coincidence, don’t you think? Two rich dudes getting offed in exactly the same way a hundred fifty miles apart and within just a few days?”
Riley was thoroughly intrigued.
No, it doesn’t sound like a coincidence at all, she thought.
She asked Van Roff to send her the details, thanked him for his help, and ended the call. Then she sat at the table wondering what to do next. Was it time to call her team chief, Brent Meredith, and see if he’d make this an official FBI case?
No, not yet, she thought. She needed to find out more about this second case.
Meredith was a sympathetic ally at the BAU, but he was also rigorous. What little she knew at the moment was still too flimsy to persuade him. All she’d accomplish would be getting herself called back to Quantico for a sharp scolding.
As she sat trying to decide what else to do, her cell phone rang. She saw that the call was from the Quantico switchboard. When she took the call, the operator said …
“Agent Paige, we’ve got a call for you from Officer Jared Ruhl of the Atlanta police. I believe we’ve connected him with you before. Will you take his call this time?”
Riley suppressed a sigh. She remembered looking around the police station a little while ago and wondering whether Officer Ruhl was anywhere nearby. She hadn’t wanted him to know that she was here in Atlanta—and she still didn’t. But she thought she’d better find out why he was calling now.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said to the operator.
A moment later she heard Ruhl’s voice. He didn’t sound the least bit happy.
“Agent Paige, where are you right now?”
“Um … in a fast food place,” Riley said.
“No, I mean what city.”
Riley gulped hard and said, “Atlanta.”
She heard Ruhl let out a snort of dismay.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “A buddy of mine told me that he’d seen a BAU agent at the station talking to the chief. He said he recognized Riley Paige from pictures in the media. You’re kind of famous among cops, you know. He was wondering what you’re doing here. So am I. Would you mind telling me just what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing that ne
ed concern you,” Riley said.
“Like hell. This is about the Farrell murder, isn’t it? It’s about what I told you—that I didn’t think his wife killed him. You told me it wasn’t an FBI case, and anyway you weren’t interested, it was none of your business. I really don’t appreciate getting lied to.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Officer Ruhl,” Riley said.
And of course it was true that she hadn’t lied. Farrell’s murder hadn’t been an FBI case at the time, and it still wasn’t one now.
Ruhl continued, “I called in the tip to you. You ought to have kept me in the loop.”
Riley couldn’t help admiring the chutzpah of this young local cop for chewing out a respected FBI agent. Still, she felt completely unprepared for this.
What can I tell him now? she wondered.
She asked, “Have you talked to anyone else about what you told me? I mean, your idea that Morgan Farrell isn’t the killer?”
She heard him let out a discouraged sigh.
“Yeah, I’ve mentioned it to some of my buddies. They just laugh at me. Everybody thinks it’s an open-and-shut case, and they say I’m an idiot for thinking otherwise.”
Now Riley was starting to understand why Ruhl sounded so angry. Nobody liked being ridiculed by their peers. Still, for his own sake, she didn’t want to get him mixed up in this.
She said, “Officer Ruhl, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss this matter.”
“I don’t buy that,” Ruhl snapped. “And if you won’t tell me, I know someone who will. I’ll go talk to Chief Stiles. Since you met with him, he must know what’s going on. Whatever it is, I’m going to ask him to put me on the case.”
Riley felt a tingle of alarm.
The last thing she needed right now was for Ruhl to alert Stiles as to what she was really doing. And although Ruhl didn’t seem to know it, it would be bad for him too. Stiles wasn’t going to be pleased with the rookie for having gone behind his back to contact her in the first place.
Maybe a little honesty is in order, Riley thought. She paused to consider her words carefully.
Then she said, “Officer Ruhl, you seem to know quite a bit about me. Like you said, I’m kind of famous in the law enforcement world. What exactly do you know about me?”
Ruhl spoke slowly, “Well … they say you’re brilliant, and you’ve got great intuition, and you can really get into a killer’s head, and …”
“And?”
“And you’ve got your own way of doing things. You like to bend the rules. Sometimes you even break them.”
Riley breathed a little easier.
He seems to be catching on, she thought.
Now she could hear a sort of unspoken “a-ha” in his voice.
“Oh. So right now you’re—”
Riley interrupted, “Officer Ruhl, the less I tell you about any of this, the better for both of us.”
A silence fell.
Riley waited, wondering what she could say to turn the young cop off from this … this situation that wasn’t actually a case.
Finally he said, “Agent Paige, I’m sorry about the way I talked to you before. It was rude and I should have shown more respect. And now I’m just asking you, please …”
He fell silent. Riley knew what he was going to ask, and she didn’t much like it.
He continued, “I’m not working any other cases right now. I can get away for the rest of today at least. I want to work on this with you.”
Riley fought down an impulse to just say no.
But it really didn’t seem fair.
After all, he had called in to alert her to his suspicions. And she was sure that his instincts had been right about Morgan not being the killer.
And so far, the only thanks he’d gotten for it was the ridicule of his colleagues.
She said, “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. This is liable to end badly for me. As I guess you already know, I’m kind of used to dealing with the consequences of being a loose cannon. But I’d hate to get you into trouble. And that’s likely to happen, believe me.”
“That’s OK,” Ruhl said. “Count me in. What do we do next?”
Riley thought for a moment, then said, “I’m driving to Birmingham right now to check out a lead. Where can I pick you up?”
She could hear excitement in Ruhl’s voice.
“Right outside the station. I’ll be there waiting.”
He ended the call without another word.
Riley sat staring at the phone for a moment.
I guess I’ve got a new partner, she thought as she headed out to her car.
But was that going to be a good thing or a bad thing?
She didn’t know. The truth was, she didn’t have any idea what she might be getting herself and Ruhl into.
As she climbed into her car she thought with a sigh …
It’s business as usual, I guess.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Riley approached the police station in her rented car, she wondered …
Did I just make a serious mistake?
Shouldn’t she have just told Officer Jared Ruhl to stay off the case and to keep quiet about it? Instead, here she was about to partner up with an unfamiliar young cop.
In fact, she worried, how would she even recognize him among the various people she could see going in and out of the brick building?
But that didn’t turn out to be a problem. There he was—a slight, scrawny-looking guy in a police uniform, his hands in his pockets, obviously on the watch for her car.
Riley didn’t like the looks of him. It wasn’t so much his sharply sloping caveman-like brow or his underdeveloped chin. It didn’t matter to her whether he was pleasant to look at. But there was something off-putting in his body language—a palpable defensiveness in his hunched posture and his shuffling feet. She sensed at a glance that he didn’t exactly inspire most people’s confidence.
He had spotted her, so Riley ignored her urge to drive on by. She pulled up to the curb and Ruhl climbed into the car.
He huffed, “Boy, I’m sure glad to get out of that place for the day.”
Riley thought she understood why. On the phone just now, he’d said that his colleagues had laughed at his theory about Andrew Farrell’s murder. Now she had a hunch that ridicule was a pretty routine part of his professional life.
Jared said in a shrill, reedy voice, “So—you said on the phone that we’re driving to Birmingham. I guess we must be checking out the murder of that other rich guy there—Julian Morse, I think his name was.”
“That’s right,” Riley said, a little surprised that Ruhl already had some idea of what they were up to.
As if picking up on Riley’s curiosity, Ruhl said, “When you told me where we were going, I figured that must be the reason. Another rich guy brutally stabbed to death, just a week ago, and not all that far away—sounds like maybe some kind of pattern, huh? I’ve got to admit, it hadn’t occurred to me until I talked to you. But then, that’s why you’re the famous Agent Riley Paige, and I’m just a rookie nobody. You think of everything.”
Then with a delighted grunt he added, “Hey, do you think maybe we’re dealing with an actual serial killer? Wow, that would be great! I’d love that!”
Riley cringed a little. Of course she knew he was a rookie and anxious to prove himself, and naturally he was excited by the possibility of cracking a serial killer case. But hearing him say so aloud was rather grating.
“We’ll see,” she said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“So what’s the plan?” he asked. “Do we check in with the Birmingham police as soon as we get there?”
Riley realized she hadn’t taken the time to think through what she intended to do. But she figured that trying to bluff another police chief into thinking she was there on official FBI business might be pushing her luck.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
Ruhl let out a chirp of laughter.
“Oh, I think I�
�m starting to get it,” he said. “You’ve gone AWOL again, haven’t you? Yeah, you’re kind of famous for going off the reservation, pushing the envelope of FBI protocol and all. I’ll bet this isn’t even an official FBI case. I’ll bet you didn’t even tell Chief Stiles what you were really up to. I just love this!”
Riley was getting irritated now. She didn’t like Ruhl’s apparent glee about her rule-breaking. Still, she had to admit …
He guessed right.
He seemed to be pretty smart, and she wondered if maybe he’d turn out to be useful after all.
She said, “Jared—may I call you Jared?”
“Sure. May I call you Riley?”
Riley suppressed a growl of annoyance.
“No, Agent Paige will be fine,” she said. “Let me fill you in. I’d met Morgan Farrell back in February. When she called to tell me she’d killed her husband, I found it hard to believe. Then when you called me, it really piqued my curiosity, so I got myself down here to see what was going on. I talked to Morgan in her jail cell a little while ago, and now I’m all but sure that she’s innocent. The problem is, she doesn’t think so, and neither does the DA or even her own lawyer.”
Jared nodded and said, “So you want to find Andrew Farrell’s real killer. And you’re thinking whoever killed Farrell also killed Julian Morse. But … we can’t talk to the Birmingham cops about any of this, because this isn’t exactly a legit investigation, at least not yet. Which is kind of a handicap.”
“You’ve got it,” Riley said. “So—do you have any suggestions about how we should proceed?”
Jared thought for a moment.
Then he said, “Well, I suggest we just go straight to the crime scene, Morse’s mansion, and see what we can find out on our own. We might have to bluff whoever we happen to meet there. But that’s what you’re good at, right? And I’ll bet I can be pretty good at it too!”
Riley stifled another growl.
She was finding Jared more annoying by the minute.
And yet she couldn’t think of a better plan than the one he was suggesting.
She said, “You’ll find my laptop computer in the back seat just behind you. I want you to get online and find out everything you can about Morse’s murder—every single detail that’s been released to the media. We need to know as much as we can before we pay his house a visit.”
