by DJ Erfert
“You have no probable cause for an invasive test like that,” Sunny said as she put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “A court won’t give you the warrant.”
Monroe dropped down into her chair. “Why are you obstructing these cases, Agent James? I’d think you would want your mother’s murder solved. And you might be stopping more murders from happening right now.”
“The man who killed my mother had a tattoo of a—a knife or dagger on the inside of his left arm, and he was left handed.” The words came out of her mouth without her meaning to. Lucy’s heart was broken, and the fatigue from the nightmares made her careless. But one thing she now knew—her father didn’t kill her mother.
Monroe took out a notepad from a drawer and clicked open a pen. “Can you remember anything else about him? Do you know who he is?”
Lucy shook her head. “No.” Lucy leaned over the pictures and studied the gruesome scenes. Something in the photo of her mother lying at the end of the hallway caught her attention. “He smoked.” She pulled it closer and said, “Look at this. Did you see this?”
“Yes, Agent James, I did notice that he was a smoker,” Monroe said evenly, almost condescendingly.
Lucy came close to calling her a twit again, but she held back. “I know smoking a single cigarette takes a while, but how long do you think smoking four takes?”
“I don’t know,” Monroe said, lifting a single shoulder. “I don’t smoke.”
“I know how long,” Junie said, standing up to look closer at the picture. “I had that terrible habit before I got pregnant with my first son. I’d smoke one cigarette about every five to ten minutes, depending if I left it sitting in the ashtray or puffed it to death. I’d say … twenty to forty minutes.” She pointed at the bloody pool around her mother. “Those butts aren’t crushed out. He probably lit the next one up with the burning end of the one he was currently smoking and then dropped it on the floor. He was a chain smoker.”
Sunny leaned around the other side of Lucy. “They appear to be lying on top of the blood. It looks like whoever killed your mother took his time after she was dead.” She looked up at Monroe. “If she died quickly. Do you have the coroner’s report, too?”
“It’s in her file.” As Sunny paged through the report, Monroe walked back over to the corner and pulled out a few more folders and brought them back to the desk. “Of course they collected the butts, but back in ‘86 DNA testing was only in the beginning phase. The first conviction where DNA was used didn’t happen until ’87 in Portland, Oregon, and even then the jurors didn’t really understand it. Not like today …” Monroe stared up at the photographs taped up on the whiteboard. She walked around her desk, stepped up close to the pictures on her wall, and was quiet.
“Here it is,” Sunny said, reading the document. “She was stabbed nineteen times, but according to the coroner, she didn’t die from any one stab wound, but she slowly bled to death. I’m sorry, Lucy.”
“I know,” Lucy whispered with her hand pressed against her chest. Her vain attempt to keep her heart from hurting only made her feel like crying. She thought by now she’d be immune to the pain—but it seemed to intensify now that they were actually trying to find the murderer.
“Agent Monroe, did the rest of the women die in the same way?” Sunny asked.
“What?” She turned, looking startled by the question.
Sunny put her hands on her hips. “Have you studied the other files? I mean everything, including the coroners reports?”
“I … scanned them.” Monroe waved at the whiteboard. “I have several cases on my desk—”
“I’m a doctor. Let me read them.”
She lifted her hand toward her desk. “Go ahead. I’d appreciate the help.”
That surprised Lucy. There wasn’t any self-righteous arrogance in her voice, only something that sounded close to sincerity.
“Agent James—”
“Call me Lucy.”
Monroe sighed. “Lucy, please continue with the photo line-up while we work on … What was your mother’s name?”
Lucy closed her eyes. “Her name was Sara.”
“Steele or James?”
“Steele. Her name was Sara Kelly Steele.”
“Why is your last name James?”
“I’m a widow.” Junie looked over at her with her brows scrunched together. Lucy wasn’t going to tell the FBI agent every secret, especially when her dad still needed to explain why he gave them aliases so many years ago.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Lucy,” Monroe said. “Please continue with the line-up. We can work on both cases at the same time.” She came around the desk and woke up her other computer. “I’m going to update your mother’s file and finally give her a name.”
“Thank you, Bridget,” Lucy said. Their gaze met briefly, and a fragile truce began to form. She nodded, and Lucy hit the forward arrow again, scrolling through men’s photos. “Have any of the other men we captured talked at all?”
“I spoke to a man named Raul Fernandez, and he kept asking for Lucia Medina. He said he’d talk to me after he talked to her.” Monroe turned to Lucy and asked, “Would this person be you by any chance?”
“Yes, that was my cover name when I worked at the cantina.” Lucy came to the end of the group. “Our guy isn’t here.”
Bridget turned the laptop around. “I’ll pull up the next line-up.”
Lucy took out her phone from her handbag and sent a text to Kate.
<
She waited until Bridget returned the laptop to her with a new face on the screen before she sent the text again. Lucy waited another full minute before she became concerned something was seriously wrong with him. “I need to go check on my dad, Bridget. They aren’t answering my texts.”
“He looked pretty bad,” Sunny said, putting down the file in her hand. “I’ll go with you. I have my medical bag in my car.”
Junie got up and followed Lucy to the door. “I’m not staying here by myself.”
Lucy went down the hall the way they came in, looking into corners and side rooms trying to find her dad. Kate had rushed him out of the office when he looked like he was going to pass out, but if he had passed out then Kate would have called Sunny to come take care of him—she was sure of it.
Lucy held up her phone and found the contact list. She scrolled down to her dad’s number and pushed the button as she rushed out the front doors. The ringing sounded in her ear as she walked down the concrete steps. She glanced around and saw Bridget had joined them in the search. “He’s not answering his phone.” Lucy hung up and hit the button again, redialing his number. “He parked down from where you did,” she told Bridget. “Maybe he’s sitting in Kate’s truck.”
The sounds of footfalls running on asphalt set off Lucy’s alarm. She turned and pulled Junie and Sunny down between two cars. “Stay down,” Lucy ordered. Just as she went to get Bridget, her dad tackled them both as bullets peppered the cars next to them. She heard Junie scream.
More gunshots sounded, but the bullets didn’t hit near them.
“He’s on the roof of the building across the street.”
Lucy recognized the voice, and the man was close by.
“Did you get him, Sullivan?” Cooper asked, getting up off Lucy and pulling his gun out from under his jacket.
“Morrison and Gibbs are on their way up there.”
Lucy tried to sit up, but her dad put his hand on her shoulder, clamping her down on the dirty parking lot. “Junie? Sunny? Are you okay?” she asked. She could see them both peeking at her from underneath the car.
“I’m okay,” Sunny said.
“I am, too,” Junie said. “Just a little angry.”
“How’s Bridget?” Sunny asked.
Lucy forgot about the woman lying next to her. She wasn’t moving. “Dad! It’s Bridget!”
“Is she hit?” Sunny asked, coming closer.
“Sunny, stay behind the cars or I’ll pound you,” Lucy threatened
.
Kate came up from behind Cooper. “He stopped shooting. That’s a good thing. You said you only saw one man?”
Cooper nodded.
Lucy placed her hand on Bridget’s throat and felt for a pulse. “Who was he after?”
“You,” Cooper said quietly. “I saw him kill you, Lulu baby.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cooper sat down between the cars and leaned against the fender. Sunny stepped over him and went to check on Bridget while Kate wrapped her arms around Cooper’s shoulders. The whole scene fascinated Lucy, from watching her dad pass out and turn ice cold, to knowing she had been in a window of death. It had never happened before, at least not to her knowledge.
“How’s Bridget?” Lucy touched her dad’s hand and waited for his body temperature to come up to normal.
“She’s out cold, just not like your dad.” Sunny ran her fingers underneath Bridget’s skull. “She has a bump growing on the back of her head, so I’ll bet she has a concussion, but she didn’t get shot. We still need to get her to the hospital.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Lucy nodded toward the flood of well-dressed agents running from the building into the parking lot. They had their guns drawn and were all scanning the area for whoever had been shooting. Just like she would have done.
Her dad’s skin went from icy cold to healthy warm under her fingers. “Lulu …”
“I’m all right, Dad,” Lucy said, grasping his hand. “Thank you for saving me.”
He smiled. “It’s what I do.”
Three men ran up to Sunny as she tended to Bridget. Lucy recognized two of them from being in Bridget’s back-up posse. “What happened here?”
Lucy pointed up to the building across the street. “You had a sniper on the roof. Fortunately, he missed whoever his target was and only hit a couple of cars.”
Sunny said, “Agent Monroe was knocked out when Cooper Steele tackled her and Agent James down to the ground. Call the fire department and get the paramedics out here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the closest man said, reaching into the inside of his jacket.
“Cooper Steele?” The man who wasn’t with Bridget that morning spoke up. “Are you injured, sir?”
“I’m fine. Take care of your agent.” Cooper slid his arm around Kate and pulled her closer.
“Yes, sir,” the man said, turning toward Bridget.
“Dad …” Lucy sat down next to him and whispered, “Did you see the man’s face? Can you identify him?”
Cooper looked over Lucy’s shoulder before he answered. “I’m sorry, Lulu. He had the rifle up to his eye, so I couldn’t see who he was. But he had brown hair and darker skin, like—”
“Like a Mexican?” Lucy asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“The man that was being transported from Yuma had darker skin, and he’s at large.”
“You think he is,” Junie said. “There isn’t a witness left alive to tell if he was released or killed.” Junie’s voice grew harsher. “His body might be lying in the desert for all we know.”
“She’s right,” Cooper said. He took out his phone and touched two buttons. He waited for only a few seconds. “Sullivan, do you have the shooter … did you see any cars leaving … go ahead and have Morrison and Gibbs stay at the shooting site and you get back here.” Cooper disconnected his call.
“What are you going to do?” Lucy asked.
“I’m going to start an investigation and also find that body. If whoever hired him to pick up those packages in the desert wanted him dead, then I don’t think they’d take him very far before dumping him and letting the real coyotes take care of getting rid of the evidence.”
“How can you find him—if he’s out there?” Kate asked.
“I’ll send a couple helicopters with a dozen men and cadaver dogs to Gila Bend to search for that body. If he’s dead or not, we’re going to find him.” Cooper slowly stood up, bringing Kate up with him before making his way over to Bridget and Sunny. The three male agents still stood by her. “Agent—”
“Wilson, sir,” the closest man in a dark suit responded.
“Agent Wilson,” Cooper said as Sullivan stopped next to him. “We have the rooftop secured where the shooter was. We’ll back you up with whatever you need in gathering the evidence. He had to have touched the doorknobs to get to the roof, and I doubt he had time to pick up his spent casings. They also should have a print or two on them.”
Wilson’s gaze went to the top of the building. “Yes, sir. Uh, do you have an evidence kit in your car?”
“I have one,” Sullivan said. “I’ll get it and meet you at the roof’s entrance.”
Wilson tapped the man next to him. “Come on, Brevard. You’re in this too.”
Lucy looked toward the sounds of sirens and saw the first fire engine coming around the corner. Bridget was still unconscious; she obviously didn’t know how to take a tackle without getting hurt. Lucy could. She’d been trained since she was eleven by a man who had very deep secrets.
“I’m going to the hospital with Bridget,” Sunny said, giving her keys to Junie. “Will you pick me up when I call?”
“Sure,” Junie said, taking the keychain.
“We aren’t going to get anything else done here today with Bridget in the hospital,” Lucy said. She looped her arms around her dad’s neck. “It’s lunchtime, and I think we have a discussion to continue.”
“Coop—” Kate said quickly. “What’s that hole in your jacket? Did you get shot?”
Lucy pushed out of his arms. “What?” She looked at Kate with panic rising in her chest. Kate’s stare was on her dad’s back, but her hands were rushing around his shoulders, reaching for the lapels. Her dad didn’t say anything, and he didn’t try to stop his jacket from being taken off his body. Lucy watched as Kate pulled up the hem of his sweater, smearing bright red blood across his skin and exposing a deep gouge bleeding on his back. Lucy’s knees went weak, either from knowing her dad had been shot saving her—or that she had come close to being killed—again.
“You’re shot!” Lucy waved her shaking hand to her doctor. “Sunny, my dad’s been shot! Help him—”
“Coop, why didn’t you say anything?” Kate asked angrily.
A red rescue unit pulled up behind the fire truck.
Sunny nudged Lucy aside, moved behind Cooper and examined the cut. “Oh, stop complaining you two. It’s only a superficial wound.” Sunny asked, “Coop, do you have a clean handkerchief?”
“Right rear pocket.”
Kate dug it out and Sunny took it. “Kate, hold this and keep pressure on it until I can get a proper bandage.”
Kate did as she was told while she leaned her forehead against his back and shut her eyes.
“I’m all right, Katie.” He found her free hand and held it.
“When did you last have a tetanus shot?” Sunny asked.
“Two years ago.”
“You’re going to the hospital with us. You’ll need a few stitches and a booster shot. Don’t argue with me.”
Cooper sighed out loud. “Who said I was going to argue with you?”
Sunny gave a soft laugh. “Since you’re Lucy’s dad, I just assumed you would. It’s what she’d do.”
The paramedics went to the only obvious patient they had. Bridget’s eyes had opened, finally, but she looked confused by the firefighters hovering over her. She probably had a headache, too. Lucy watched Sunny ordering everyone around, like normal. When she pointed to her dad, one paramedic took a small case and came over to him. The whole time the paramedic treated his wound, Kate never let loose of his hand. Or maybe her dad didn’t let go of Kate’s hand. When he walked to the rescue unit for transport, he finally released her and disappeared inside with the paramedic.
“Are you okay, Kate?” Lucy placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder while the rescue unit drove away.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Kate crossed her arms over her stomach. “Your dad
just … knew what was going to happen before it happened. It was amazing—and terrifying at the same time. He’s so much like you.”
Lucy rubbed her back a moment, grinning. “Yeah, it takes a little getting use to. Why don’t you tell me about it while we drive to the hospital.”
~*~
Both her dad and Bridget had been taken into exam rooms by the time Lucy could get into the emergency room. She let Kate off at the door, but finding a parking space for Kate’s big Suburban had been difficult. What intrigued Lucy, though, were all the other dark SUVs parked outside the hospital. Of course, the FBI had an agent being treated, and that gave an excuse for other agents to stand around and wait for her to be released. From counting how many trucks had shown up, Bridget must be a popular agent.
Surprisingly enough, the men and women crowded inside the ER hallways and waiting room weren’t all dressed in business suits. Lucy recognized Mr. Sullivan, and he had a group of darkly clad men and women surrounding him that rivaled the numbers of FBI agents supporting Bridget. Kate stood with them, with her arms folded across her stomach like she might be sick. She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t in with her dad. All he needed was stitches.
Lucy walked up to the nurse’s desk. “Which room is Cooper Steele in?” The older woman sitting behind the desk didn’t even lift her gray curly-haired head or acknowledge her in any way—like she couldn’t be bothered with a simple question. Lucy took out her wallet and laid her ID on the chart the nurse was writing on—and asked again. “Which room is Cooper Steele in?” The CIA ID caught her attention very quickly. She looked up into Lucy’s eyes and blinked several times as she reached for another chart. Lucy could see it was a list of rooms with patient’s names.
“He’s in … exam room seventeen. But you shouldn’t go in there unless you’re family.”
Lucy closed her wallet. “Thank you,” she said, looking around at the numbers beside each door. When Lucy got a good sense where his room was, she went to where Junie and Kate stood shoulder to shoulder. She went up to Kate and grabbed her wrist. “Come with me.” Turning, Lucy wove through the horde of people and pulled her down the hallway until they reached room seventeen.
