The NightShade Forensic Files: Fracture Five (Book 2)

by A. J. Scudiere

  Eleri didn’t finish her food either and they didn’t even talk as they rode the elevators down to the third floor and the conference room. As usual, when they walked in, Vasquez had everything in place. She’d gotten Salling a drink, there was fruit on the table, and it all said “thank you for talking to us.” Most likely so he wouldn’t think he was a suspect, though Donovan and Eleri hadn’t taken him off the list yet.

  He stood up, held out his hand, and shook each of theirs. Donovan noted that it didn’t tremble, the hold was firm, and Salling looked them each in the eye.

  Then he shocked the shit out of Donovan.

  “I always thought I’d end up here.” He sat back down, leaned back in his chair and took a sip of whatever was in his cup.

  Finding himself settling into a seat, Donovan mirrored the man’s position as he tried to garner what he could from the looks of things. It appeared Eleri was giving him the same once over from the seat next to him.

  The man wore jeans, relatively plain, which had been obvious as he’d stood. He wore hiking boots, much the way his parents had. His hair was cut short, but not military tight, and a variety of holes could be seen in his ears—and his upper and lower lips when Donovan looked close enough. “Why is that?”

  “My parents taught me a lot of things growing up. I’m still trying to sort the good and bad out. But I’ve learned since leaving, that my father is a radical. Someone, sometime had to come asking after him.” He sighed. “Agent Vasquez tells me you’re worried about my parents and my sisters and would like anything I can give you.”

  Eleri’s hand slipped down between them and her finger motioned in a circle, like ‘keep him going.’

  But Donovan didn’t have to. Despite being hauled in across the state and plopped into an FBI conference room, Salling held his own. “It would take years to tell you what my father thinks, what he truly believes. I really don’t want to be here. I prayed and hoped this day would never come, that Dad would quietly preach his caustic gospel and this would go away. But clearly, it’s gotten worse.” He stopped a moment but Donovan didn’t interrupt. It seemed he was the star of this one, with Eleri directing, but he couldn’t ask why she didn’t jump in.

  Salling continued. “Probably the most important thing you should know about my father is that he truly believes what he does is God’s will. He’s not afraid to die for that. He’s convinced it’s a ticket into Heaven. So don’t ever look at him and think, ‘He won’t really do that.’ He never speaks without meaning. If he said it, he most certainly will do it. What do you want to know?”

  At last, Eleri jumped in, picture in hand, “Is this your sister?”

  Three hours later, Marina Vasquez ushered Jake Salling out the door and back into the car. She was going to put him in a hotel for the night. Take him back the next day after he tried to ID some of the people in the Calabasas group. Donovan walked calmly out of the room and into the elevator before he turned to Eleri.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Holy is right.” She shook her head, looking defeated, when Donovan thought they’d likely hit the motherlode of information.

  “What?”

  “I need a good serial killer. Maybe an old corpse.” This time she looked up at him. “I cannot take another case of zealots.”

  “Sounds like an old-timey disease.” He pitched his voice a little lower. “I see you’ve got a full blown case of zealotry.”

  “It’d be funnier if they weren’t trying to blow up the city.”

  “But they aren’t!” He grinned. “They’re just trying to take out the Godless.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that cult in Texas was way better than this.” She looked up at the lights and stepped out on the top floor and into their apartment.

  Suddenly bone tired, Donovan followed her into the living area, knowing he had to stay awake until Vasquez came back. “The arsenal he said was under the house is not on any blueprints or any city documents. That’s pretty interesting.”

  She kicked off her shoes and sank into the couch, curling her feet up under her. “I find it more interesting that they hate Muslims and Jews and Hindus.”

  “Well, they hate everyone except themselves.” Donovan mulled it over. “There’s like a bullseye of hate with them. The closer you are to their beliefs, the less hate you get. The further your beliefs, the greater the hate. Wonder what they’d do with an atheist?”

  “Asking for a friend?” She quirked part of a smile then checked her phone.

  “Anything?”

  “Nothing.” She sighed again and he felt it in him.

  He was at odds. The case sucked and he was pretty sure there was a reasonable possibility they were all going to die. But they’d worked like a well-oiled machine in there. Eleri prompting and Donovan asking the next question. Vasquez diving in at the right time, playing good-cop.

  Salling had even waved her off, suggesting he knew what they were up against and he would help however he could. He was even admitting to participating in some relatively rough stuff as a teenager. Though he’d come close, he hadn’t cried, and he’d said he’d understand if they prosecuted him for what he’d done when he was with his family. He just wanted to call his fiancée first. Vasquez had assured him he wouldn’t be arrested for old crimes. That his help was appreciated.

  “Did you believe him?” Eleri asked, even though she looked like she was about to drop into deep sleep at any moment.

  “Honestly, yes. He didn’t do anything that indicated he was lying.” Donovan was no lie detector, but he was pretty good at spotting shit when it came out of people’s mouths. Maybe it wasn’t smell or anything, but just from having grown up with his father and the kind of people that came around when he was a kid. “Which means Ken Kellen is new to that group, and that he must have done something to make them trust him.”

  Which made the “nothing” from her phone even more important. Eleri had set Walter Reed on Kellen’s tail. She’d funded two rental cars and an assistant. It was that important that they know where Kellen was heading. Donovan had listened as Eleri had asked if Walter knew anyone who qualified to tail Kellen.

  It was then that Walter proved her worth yet again. Her voice came over the phone speaker loud and clear. “This isn’t a cheating husband. This is a terrorist cell, right?”

  Eleri had looked at Donovan. They shouldn’t tell that. Walter was to be given an assignment and carry it out. Eleri spoke toward the phone. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is.”

  “I know just the guy.”

  Eleri nearly passed out curled in the corner of the couch.

  Marina Vasquez appeared at the apartment door, startling both her and Donovan awake with a quick knock. Eleri had popped up guiltily as though she had fallen asleep in class.

  As soon as she let Marina in, she grabbed a coke from the fridge and quickly began guzzling it, letting the fizz open her throat and her eyes. “What did you get?”

  She watched as Marina’s eyes flicked beyond her to the couch where Donovan was coming around, though not quite as fast. Eleri guessed that was a remnant of being a medical examiner. In the FBI she’d learned that sometimes, for weeks on end, everything was imminent. For a medical examiner, aside from a few high profile or particularly pressing cases, you could work a reasonable schedule. After all, the person was already dead. He hadn’t lived for the FBI like she had. Maybe the Academy hadn’t had quite the same effect on him.

  Settling herself at the table, Marina first asked them, “What did you think of him?”

  Eleri shrugged. “He seems stable. Didn’t see any tics like he was lying. It really did seem like this day was almost inevitable for him.”

  Marina nodded as Donovan pulled out his chair and sank into it a little too languidly. They were all exhausted and it was nearing the end of a long day. If only crime understood the need for a good night’s sleep. “My background checks all seem to support that. I can’t say for sure.”

  “So we’re run
ning in part on gut instinct?” Eleri looked at both the others and saw Donovan giving her a pointed stare. As though she would just know whether Jake Salling was truly trustworthy.

  “Most likely.” Marina shrugged. “He’s settled in the hotel. I have his cell phone . . . Well, tech does. They’re going through it for all previous GPS locations, to see if he’s in with any of the cells. To see if he’s been talking to his parents. He handed it over with no problem. I gave him unlimited access to the hotel phone, but it will alert us to all his calls and record them.”

  Donovan blinked slowly, as though he were actively trying to fall asleep. Still, he spoke coherently. “If he’s smart, he wouldn’t ever contact his family on this phone. He’d assume the hotel phone is bugged and not say anything that sounds even remotely suspicious. So none of that is anywhere near definitive as a positive recommendation.”

  Eleri sighed, the caffeine in the coke not even working a little. She set the can down half full and forgot about it. “So let’s sleep on it and see if we can come up with any way to verify whether he’s on our team by morning.”

  Then she leaned forward. “If we can tell him what’s going on, can he be of more help?”

  Donovan thought about it. Marina didn’t.

  “That’s a massive violation of protocol.” The junior agent frowned at Eleri.

  “I’m just throwing it out as a hypothetical.” She wasn’t. “If there was someone who had inside information, and we could trust them, would that help?”

  Donovan leaned back. He’d clearly considered the option, and forgotten that one of the people at the table was not operating under NightShade directives. Eleri was still wondering if it was good idea or if her brain was too damned fogged from lack of real sleep.

  But Marina Vasquez had a real answer, and Eleri was beginning to wonder what the woman was taking.

  “As of right now, it appears none of the cells know about each other. Only Ken Kellen has been verified as a link between them.”

  “And we have someone on Kellen right this very moment. Hopefully we’ll have more by morning. Maybe we’ll even find out where he’s living.” Eleri shrugged at that one.

  “But if the cells don’t know about each other, how could telling Salling tell us anything? Even someone on the inside, what could they know about cells they don’t know exist? Isn’t that the whole point of the fractures?”

  Her brain was sluggy. Eleri felt her lips twitch with her thoughts. “But if they could tell us how those in the cell would react—say, if they found out they weren’t the only ones—that might be very useful. I.e. do they know about the others? Like Jake Salling says his father is the group leader. Which means Ken Kellen isn’t. Right?”

  Donovan shook his head. “No, it just means that if Ken Kellen is, he’s persuaded a very set man to allow him to do it. Which means he has something in his back pocket. Something he passed to the elder Salling that’s very powerful probably.”

  Her brain hurt and Eleri changed the subject. “Marina, do you have any paperwork on Jake Salling?”

  “Sure.” She turned to the tablet and started typing something in.

  Eleri put her hand on the other woman’s arm. “No, I mean anything on actual paper? I can’t look at a tablet tonight. I’m about to pass out.”

  “I can print—”

  Eleri shook her head. “Too much effort. Anything already on paper?”

  Marina shrugged and leaned down, reaching into her bag. “Just this. A few pictures. A few things the local PD pulled up for me when I inquired after Salling at the local station. By the way, they’d never heard of him. To their records, he’s a model citizen. Not even a speeding ticket.”

  “Hmm.” It was all Eleri could muster. That could mean he was a good guy. Or he was another terrorist, simply doing a good job of flying under the radar. But she took the file. In it were several photos of Salling with friends, but there was a decent headshot of him alone. She closed the folder and told Marina that they should all get a good night’s sleep.

  Walter would hopefully have something in the morning. If there was nothing new on Jake Salling, then she’d put his trustworthiness to a vote. Very poor protocol, but about all she had left. They needed a break in this case. Badly.

  As she stood up, Donovan eyed the file. He knew what she was planning. But she didn’t see any other recourse.

  33

  It was six a.m. when Eleri woke to the sound of her phone. At first she hit the button to turn off the alarm she’d set, but when the phone spoke to her, she woke up enough to realize that this was a call.

  “Walter? Is that you?” She fumbled for the phone as she rolled over, unsealing the cocoon of her covers.

  “Yes?” The question came back, and just as Eleri got the phone to her ear, she heard the next question. “Does your phone not have caller ID?”

  She almost laughed. “Yes, but I thought it was my alarm going off and I—never mind. What can I do for you?”

  More likely it was What did Walter have for them?

  Walter did not disappoint. “My guy has eyes on Ken Kellen right now. He’s been out all night and we think we have a home base for him.”

  “Oh.” Eleri wasn’t as awake as she thought. She rolled onto her stomach, trying to be more upright without actually being upright.

  “More than ‘Oh.’ From what I know of him, it’s not normal for him to be out all night.” Walter barely finished one sentence before starting the next. “Where are you and how soon can you get here?”

  “I’m at the Bureau Branch Office and I don’t know where you are.” Or had Walter said, and she’d missed it? Eleri really wanted to have her next conversation fully awake. She pushed to sitting and as she planted her hand beside her, she brushed the edge of the photo she’d stuck under her pillow. As she pulled it out, the face of Jake Salling stared back at her. Eleri closed her eyes and focused on Walter’s words.

  Bad idea. She was still tired and with her eyes closed, it seemed like permission for her brain to go to sleep. “You’re where?”

  Walter had answered but the words had slipped out the hole in the back of Eleri’s head. “Currently, I’m sitting outside a gas station, but I’m watching live feed of a camera on a house that Kellen is inside.”

  Walter gave a few more details and finally Eleri’s brain clicked. “Are you in a Jewish neighborhood?”

  “Yes, I would say so.”

  “Is this a new cell?” Eleri was upright, her bare feet hitting the rough rug. This was no five-star hotel, just a corporate apartment at the top of an office building. She wished she’d at least worn socks.

  “Seems like, but I’d guess you already know about it.” Walter was on top of things.

  For a moment Eleri thought that if Walter was the mole, they were fucked. Not only had she gotten inside, she’d gotten them to pay her to deliver intel. But Eleri calmed herself and decided that all she had left was her gut instinct and she was going to have to trust it. Despite all the information they had rolling in from so many sources, they still had jack shit. “You’d be right.”

  It would be a day for confessions, she decided, as her feet hit the hardwood floor of the hallway. “How long can you hold out for us?”

  The shrug in Walter’s voice came through loud and clear. “I can hold out as long as you need me to. You don’t have to come at all. But we have Kellen pegged and we are getting some interesting info. I thought you might want to see.”

  “I do. But I have a few things first.” She knocked on Donovan’s door and heard a groggy response before turning and heading into the main room. She was in pajamas, but the world didn’t wait for her to get dressed. This was why most agents maintained their own apartments. Such was her life; she’d never been “most agents.” Eleri flipped through the papers and asked Walter about the address of the cell they’d gotten from the night before. “That’s what I have. Is Kellen there?”

  “Negative.”

  Eleri heard Walter shuffling a few t
hings around. A beep here, and soft click there, and then, “But I’m only a few blocks away from that address. And so is Kellen, but in a different direction from me.”

  “Good to know.” Sounded like the cell was staying in the neighborhood. “Can you give me the address where he is?”

  In a moment she’d jotted it down on a notepad and Donovan was standing behind her looking over her shoulder. As she turned, she saw his eyebrows go up. She saw that he was more dressed than she. And she saw something else: some kind of fire. He was getting to the stage where he was pissed at these guys and he was ready to bring them in.

  That was good for drive, but bad for decision making.

  She thanked Walter and got herself ready while Donovan grabbed car keys, put his feet into shoes, and checked addresses they knew. “Who is Walter’s second?”

  Eleri shrugged into the bathroom mirror, even though he couldn’t see her. She yelled her answer out. “I don’t know, but whoever he—or she—is, they’re good. Did you see the live feed?”

  There were a few moments as she brushed her hair up, and slid into yet another hoodie. There were so many ways to blend in in L.A. At least she didn’t need a business suit. It felt wrong in this weather.

  Eleri emerged with a fun hairstyle that looked casual but would hold up to a run, a fight, or someone trying to grab it and control her. She had on sneakers, as did Donovan, and her jacket was barely thick enough to mostly conceal the gun in the holster at her back. Just another day in weeds in Southern California.

  “Feed’s not doing much.” Donovan spoke calmly over his shoulder. Anyone else wouldn’t have heard her come up on the quiet sneakers, but Donovan heard everything.

  “Yeah, well, her guy is outside the house sending that back. Ken Kellen is in there.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, “Let’s go.”