Deep as the Dead

by Kylie Brant

  “According to one of the local RCMP officers, Merkel and his wife were foster parents for about fifteen years,” Alexa put in. “Who knows? Maybe the offender gets a fake ID to match whichever area he’s going to strike in. And if so, it’s not implausible he might choose someone he’s familiar with.”

  “I’ve alerted police in Calgary, and they’ve paid a visit to the Carl Merkel’s home using a pretext excuse. According to his wife, he’s on his way to Winnipeg for a convention. With what we’ve discovered, I think Robert Merkel’s residence requires a closer look.” Bridgewater was just over an hour from Halifax. It was unlikely, but not out of the question that the UNSUB had used the Merkel address as his base of operations here. “The closest Emergency Response Team would come out of Halifax, so I’ve spoken to Captain Sedgewick about arranging that for us.” Ethan looked at his team soberly. “We’ll roll out with the tactical team in a couple of hours. Whether or not we find the offender in residence, if he’s been occupying the place, there will be evidence of that.”

  “Friedrich is going to be so pissed he missed out on an ERT raid.” An unfamiliar smile flashed across Jonah’s normally sober expression. “Are Gagnon and Campbell updated?”

  Ethan nodded. He’d spent most of the last hour on the phone updating the brass as their research progressed. “They’re on board with our plan.” But they’d have plenty of questions if the team came up empty-handed after the raid. The offender’s communications with Alexa had given them much-needed insight into the UNSUB. The longer he went without contacting her again, the more Ethan’s foreboding grew. It’d be damn difficult for the man to get out of the province right now. So, either he was plotting his next homicide, or he was planning another attempt to get close to Alexa.

  Either way, Ethan had a feeling their time was running out.

  Five hours later, Alexa was seated inside the ERT command vehicle. One of the team members sat in front of a screen, which showed a one-story older home, white with green trim. There was an attached single garage and what looked like a small shed in the backyard. The house was located a mile or so outside of town. The vehicle was parked well down the road.

  “How are we able to see this?” she asked. They couldn’t see the house from the command post.

  “Cameras with wireless playback capabilities are affixed to the tactical team members’ helmets,” the officer explained. “The video is fed to this computer. The screen will split for the different feeds coming in We can even loop in other law enforcement from remote locations if we need to.”

  Alexa fell into silence once more. Ethan and his officers had huddled with the ERT commander for what had seemed like an eternity. Sitting here waiting allowed her too much time to think about what could go wrong. If the offender were inside, he could be armed. Not that he’d be any match for a tactical team, but he could get shots off before being eliminated as a threat. Someone could still get hurt.

  That someone could be Ethan.

  A sick tangle of nausea tightened in her stomach. He’d be at the tail end of the unit. Logic dictated that his risk would be minimal. It was a mistake to underestimate an UNSUB, but equally important not to endow him with superhuman qualities. He’d be outgunned by the tactical unit’s firepower.

  But illogical or not, worry chased across her mind like frantic little ants. It’d be easy to dismiss it as the same concern she’d have for any of the men assembled outside.

  Easy, but not honest.

  Alexa had taken the optimistic stance that proximity to Ethan would lay to rest the ghosts from their pasts. She’d convinced herself she’d made the right decision to leave all those years ago. To allow him the life he’d always planned before duty and obligation had dictated another path. But working closely with him was chipping away at her long-held conviction and wreaking havoc on the emotional peace she’d finally achieved. And after their kiss, she’d started to fear that she wasn’t going to escape their second parting unscathed either.

  In the next moment, the scene on screen exploded into action. The ERT unit members, swarmed across the street, into the yard, surrounding the house. The first member on the steps used a breaching device to knock the door off its hinges. Then the entry team members raced inside.

  Alexa held her breath. It was eerie to see the interior of the strange home. The front room was empty. As was the kitchen. Shouts of “Clear!” were heard as other members covered the house. But to Alexa, it had a feeling of vacancy. As if waiting for its owner to return.

  “The house and basement are empty,” the officer at the screen said several minutes later. “There’s a shed out back that still requires checking.”

  The unit members inside the home were searching the rooms. She knew they’d be looking for anything that suggested recent occupancy. Evidence that the offender had been inside.

  As she watched the screen intently, she was able to pick out Ethan even before he lifted the shield on his helmet. Something in his stance gave him away. It was his aura of command, she supposed. The slight swagger of youth had solidified into a projection of authority, which had been honed by experience.

  “Shed outside is clear.”

  The camera was back in the front room of the house. She saw now that there was a walker parked next to a recliner.

  Alexa settled more comfortable on her stool while the team members conducted their examination of the premises. Their movements were methodical, but no longer urgent. Ethan turned when another team member called to him. Followed the other man. Alexa’s mind drifted to the offender. What did his sudden silence signify? Had he selected Robert Merkel at random, or was there a connection there?

  The UNSUB had the technical skills to wander in and out of people’s online lives, she mused as she watched team members tipping over furniture and going through drawers, cupboards and shelves. That could have been how the offender settled on Merkel in Bridgewater for his false ID.

  But there could also be a more personal link. And it was that possibility that had Alexa hoping to speak to the real Robert Merkel in person.

  Alexa stood in a cluster with Nyle, Jonah and Ian outside the vehicle as the ERT team members filed out of the residence. The front door hung out of kilter, useless. It would have to be boarded up, along with any other entry points that had been used.

  Ethan stood a distance away, consulting with the ERT commander and an RCMP officer from the local detachment. If he was disappointed by the results of the raid, it didn’t show on his impassive expression.

  “Too much to ask for that the UNSUB would be sitting in there on his computer, screwing up someone else’s life while the team burst in on him,” Ian said glumly, smoothing a hand down his garish tie. “Didn’t expect it, but it’d sure be nice to catch a break in this case.”

  “We still have all the exits from the country blocked.” Alexa rubbed the small of her back. The stool she’d been perched on for the last couple of hours hadn’t been the epitome of comfort. “The ferry and Coast Guard have been alerted and have his pictures. As have the airlines, trains, cruise ships…”

  “…but if he gets as far as the toll road to New Brunswick, picking up his image on the camera after the fact won’t do us much good,” Ian countered. “We have to count on the vehicle being recognized and pulled over before he gets that far.”

  “What if this is his home province?” Jonah Bannon’s question hung in the air between them. “He could go back to his house. Abandon the rental, hide the van and no one would know the difference.”

  “Except for the release of the sketches.” The UNSUB knew they had the drawings because they’d been made public. But he wouldn’t know the team had one of his fake identities, and the makes of the vehicles he was driving. That, Alexa mused, could lead him to believe he could safely leave the province while leading him right into a trap.

  “What’s to say he doesn’t just abandon the car and the Econoline, don a disguise to match yet another ID and take a bus? A train or airplane?” Nyle was s
lowly scrolling through his emails on his cell. “Let’s face it. Witnesses haven’t been great at IDing this guy. No reason to think ticket agents would be any better.”

  “I don’t think he’ll leave the van behind if he can avoid it.” Alexa didn’t go into the reasoning that she’d shared with Ethan earlier that day. She almost wished she could believe that the UNSUB would leave the province soon. But there was some instinct much more primitive than logic that told her he wasn’t done here.

  “Well, all is not lost.” Nyle sounded a bit more cheerful as he looked up from his cell. “Someone at the top must have pulled some strings, because I’ve already got the records for the credit card statement in Merkel’s name.” He was silent for a moment as he looked it over. “The user signed up for online-only statements. It looks like payments were made that way, too.” He shook his head in bemusement. “That’s one way to keep the person at that address unaware that another card has been taken out in his name.”

  Alexa frowned. “I don’t understand. The cards would still be delivered to Merkel’s address.”

  Nyle wagged a finger at her. “You’re not thinking deviously enough. Merkel’s name and address were listed on the phony license. But while the name matched on the credit card, the address given to the credit card company doesn’t. It’s still in Nova Scotia…” He paused while he tapped in a search. After a few moments, he said, “The address given on the credit card information doesn’t show up in a search. So, he likely used a mail forwarding service.”

  “Which would send his mail to the address of his choice, while shielding his location,” she said slowly.

  “And,” Ian added, “tracking down mail forwarding services is almost impossible.”

  “But you still have the transactions, right?” Jonah went to Nyle’s side and peered down at his screen. “Where’d he use the credit card most recently, aside from the car rental agency?”

  Nyle scanned the statement. “Only two transactions. Gas stations.” His mouth flattened. “Both in New Brunswick. One in Edmonton and the other in Fredericton.” The three men looked at each other. “Where the two victims there were from.” Jonah peered over Nyle’s shoulder. “What are the dates for those… Shit.”

  “Edmonton date is two days before Henry Paulus left for his backpacking trip. The Fredericton date is the day before Albert Norton disappeared.” McManus picked up his cell and started texting. “Steve can check the gas station security cameras. Lots of times those places reuse the tapes after a week or so, but you never know.”

  Ethan strode over. “The ERT team found a few clothes in one of the bedrooms that appear to belong to a male. Different size than those in the master bedroom. One of the T-shirts is from Fundy National Park.” He smiled grimly when Jonah’s brows shot up. “A couple of local RCMP officers will accompany us to Merkel’s nursing home. I’m anxious to talk to this guy myself.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Robert Merkel still cut an imposing figure, even seated in a wheelchair. Over six foot, barrel-chested with a full shock of white hair and matching bushy eyebrows, he glowered at the team as they filed in to take chairs lined up before him.

  “If there’s damage to my house, I want to know who’s going to take care of it,” he thundered. “Someone’s going to pay for the damages, and it’s not going to be me.”

  “We’ll cover the expenses,” Ethan told him. He’d run that by Campbell and follow-up to make sure it happened. “In the meantime, the entrances to your home are being repaired as we speak.” The doorways were being replaced with plywood sheets until new doors were purchased. He doubted that news would calm the man down much.

  “I still don’t have an explanation for what happened.” The man thumped his cane on the floor for emphasis. “Whose genius idea was this? What’d you think, that a seventy-year-old man was running a meth lab in his basement?”

  Ethan leaned forward in his chair. “Mr. Merkel, your name and address showed up on an ID bearing your name used by a dangerous criminal we’re tracking. When we checked out your identity and discovered you hadn’t been inhabiting the house for weeks, we had to entertain the possibility that someone else could be there in your absence. I understand that you spend your winters in Florida and are gone months at a time.”

  “Yes, but even though my home is outside of town, I have my share of nosy neighbors,” the older man scoffed. Clearly, he hadn’t forgiven the intrusion into his house. “Can’t throw a stone without hitting one of them. Wouldn’t take long for someone to notice if a stranger was coming and going from my home.”

  “Can you explain the clothes in a much smaller size in the blue bedroom? One of the T-shirts bore a New Brunswick logo.”

  He looked puzzled for a moment. “That room used to belong to my son, Carl. He lived in New Brunswick for his first job. He was here a few weeks ago when I landed myself in the hospital with this bum hip. He must have left some things at the house. Haven’t been back there, so I can’t say.”

  It was a shot in the dark, but Ethan asked, “Do you have a photo of your son?”

  It took several moments for the man to shift position in the chair enough to dig into his back pocket for his wallet. He extracted a picture and held it out. Ethan got up to look at it. The image showed a couple posed with two children. The man looked nothing like the offender’s sketches or the photo on the fake license.

  Ethan handed the picture back and then drew out a copy of the fake driver’s license photo from his pocket. Unfolding it, he showed it to the man. “Have you seen this man before?”

  The older man stared at it intently before slowly shaking his head. “Don’t recognize him, but I don’t know everyone in town. Is he local?”

  “Probably not.” Ethan decided to begin wrapping things up. “Have you been notified by any companies that your personal information has been breached? Perhaps at a merchant or hacked online?”

  Merkel let out a hearty laugh. “Son, unless they break into the Old Age Security or Canada Pension Plan systems, I’m safe. I’ve never had a credit card in my life. If I can’t pay cash for something, I don’t buy it. That’s the problem with the country today. Too many people are buying things on credit, putting all their business out there for anyone to grab. I had something similar happen…oh, must have been twenty years ago or so. Someone used my ID to try to buy a car. Caught him red-handed, of course. Turned out to be one of the foster kids we had thirty years ago or so.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “You try to do God’s work, and that’s how you get repaid.”

  “Mr. Merkel,” Alexa spoke for the first time, giving the older man a friendly smile. I’m Dr. Alexa Hayden, a consultant on this case. Can you tell us more about your foster children?”

  “Which ones? We probably fostered forty, forty-five over the years. Mostly males, because I know how to talk to boys, having had a son. I’m a pastor, and I thought if I could bring God’s word to children desperately in need of it, I’d be doing the Lord’s work.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “I did what I could but these kids…just a stream of sad stories from miserable backgrounds. A few went back home, but most bounced around in foster homes until they aged out of the system.”

  “I imagine you have quite a few stories from those days,” Alexa said encouragingly. Her manner would calm the most volatile of subjects. Ethan watched the fiery-tempered older man from a few minutes ago visibly relax under her questioning.

  “More stories than I can remember. Claire, my wife, used tell me to write them down, but truthfully, they were more heartbreaking than joyful. We had such a revolving door of kids for so many years, I just couldn’t keep the names straight. I’d given them a name from the Bible that began with their first initial. Sort of as a memory device. But it was always the Biblical one I’d recall when I needed to. Claire was better at that kind of thing.”

  “Did you ever have a foster child who was fascinated by insects?”

  Merkel raised a hand. “Boys and bugs. They go together, don’t
they? Why, I remember one time, we had a kid who asked for a jar to catch a Banded Garden Spider to bring inside for a pet. Then there was another boy who could spout the Latin name for any insect you could imagine. I put that knack of his to good use by having him memorizing his prayers in Latin.” He thumped his cane again. “A talent like that is a gift from the Lord and should be used to serve Him. He begged and pleaded one year for an ant farm for his birthday to keep in his room. I said absolutely not. He was already bringing all sorts of creatures into the house when we weren’t looking. But Claire…she had a soft heart. Found one at a garage sale and wrapped it up for him. Which turned out to be a mistake, just like I told her it would be. The dog got into the room and jumped up on the table, knocking the glass case off. Ants all over the house. Finally had to call an exterminator.”

  A buzz of interest started in Ethan’s veins. “Do you recall that boy’s name?”

  The question brought the man up short. His eyelids drooped, and his lips moved silently as if running through an ancient list decades old. Which he likely was. Finally, he said, “I sure don’t. Not even the Biblical name I gave him. It’s been too long ago.”

  And they’d have almost zero luck getting those records opened by Nova Scotia’s Child Protection Services to jog his memory, Ethan knew. He sent a surreptitious glance at the clock on the wall beyond the older man. “Well, thank you for your cooperation…”

  But Alexa wasn’t done. “What about your son?” she asked the man. “Would he remember the boy?”

  “Carl would have been out of the house by then. I could call him if you like, but he wouldn’t have known any of these kids.”

  “Would you, please?”

  Ethan slid a glance at Alexa. She was spinning her wheels on what was very likely a dead end, but another few minutes here wouldn’t hurt. A nursing home assistant brought Merkel’s cell to him, and he placed the call. On his other side, Jonah Bannon pulled out his phone and started researching mail forwarding addresses. Which was likely another long shot. Ethan felt a bolt of frustration twist through him. They were inching closer to the offender, but he remained tantalizingly out of reach. Even with the safeguards they had in place, Ethan was well aware of the dangers the UNSUB still presented. His gaze went involuntarily to the woman beside him. Danger to Alexa included.