Winter's Storm

by Mary Stone

  Captain Polivick rested one hand on each side of the podium. “As you all no doubt remember, our city was stricken with tragedy when two armed men took up an arsenal of automatic weapons and killed fifteen people at the Riverside Mall. During the shooting, those same men took dozens of hostages, of whom twenty-six survived.”

  Another murmur thrummed through the room. Even through the television, the unease was palpable.

  “Now, however, we have evidence that indicates a new killer is targeting the surviving victims of the massacre. We’ve already discussed the threat with the survivors and their families, and we are actively assisting them with maintaining their safety during this troubling ordeal.”

  Just as the murmur seemed like it would take over the conversation, Captain Polivick held up a hand.

  “I’ll answer your questions in just a moment. The Danville PD has enlisted the help of the Federal Bureau of Investigation for this case.” The captain gestured to Noah and the agent at his side. “That being said, we’d also like to tap into the resources of our community. If anyone watching has a friend or family member who was at the Riverside Mall on that tragic night, please reach out to them.”

  Autumn pointed to the television screen. “Who’s the guy beside Noah? I feel like I’ve met him before, but I can’t remember his name.”

  “Levi Brandt,” Winter said. “He’s from the Victim Services Division.”

  Captain Polivick raised his hand again. “Now, in addition to checking up on the survivors of the attack, we’d also like to ask our city for its help. So far, the perpetrator or perpetrators of these killings have gained access to victims’ houses by disabling their security systems.”

  When the captain swept his grim gaze over the gathering this time, he was greeted only with silence.

  “The suspect often visits the victims’ house under the guise of a security salesman. As I mentioned earlier, we’ve already discussed this aspect of the crimes with the other survivors, but we’d like to implore our citizens to keep a watchful eye on their friends and neighbors. We’ll be providing an anonymous tip line at the end of this briefing. Now, I’ll take your questions.”

  Rather than wait for the first reporter to ask about the case, Autumn turned her attention to Winter. “He didn’t mention anything about the third person in Haldane and Strickland’s manifesto. Are they trying to keep that part quiet?”

  Yanking her hand away when Peach decided she was finished with belly rubs, Winter shook her head at the temperamental feline. “Not necessarily. The press briefing was more to warn the public and ask for their help than anything.”

  Autumn reached for her mug as she lifted an eyebrow. “What’s your take on the investigation so far? Do you think that the third person involved in the shooting is the one who’s been killing these poor people?”

  Winter’s expression turned thoughtful as she scratched the cat’s head, getting a loud purr of approval in response. “Yeah, I think they’re involved somehow.”

  “Somehow? What do you mean?”

  “You’re familiar with the Tate murders and Charles Manson, right?”

  Autumn shrugged. “Who isn’t? But yeah, Manson was always brought up when we’d discuss conformity in my classes. So many people wondered how he managed to get people to carry out murders for him. It’s the same concept as figuring out why all those people followed Jim Jones down in South America.”

  Winter frowned as the cat hopped off her lap. “Well, so far, each of these murders has been a little bit different than the last. We don’t necessarily have anything solid to confirm it yet, but I think that we might be dealing with someone who’s a lot like Charles Manson. Someone who’s got a cult-like following.”

  Autumn let out a long breath. “Wow. That’s…unsettling.”

  In the days since Charles Manson, there had been other killers who operated similarly, though none of them had achieved the same notoriety. Then again, if someone like Manson had access to the internet, their reach would extend far beyond the so-called family that Manson had formed in his heyday. If the FBI didn’t track down the psychopath behind the series of murders in Danville, there was no telling where their reign of terror would end.

  Winter’s voice cut in through Autumn’s bleak contemplation. “I was actually wondering if I could pick your brain about the whole thing. I think it might be time to officially bring you into the investigation. I’m going to bring it up to Aiden tomorrow, but I didn’t want to blindside you with it.”

  Autumn tucked her legs beneath her, giving herself a few moments to think it all through. “I appreciate that. It’ll be good to go into it with some idea of what you’re dealing with.”

  With another nod, Winter rested her feet on the edge of the coffee table. “I thought so too.”

  Even after the agreement, a glint of contemplation remained behind Winter’s eyes. Though Autumn’s first inclination was to think that Winter intended to prod her for details about the status of her and Aiden’s friendship, she dismissed the idea.

  Any time Winter brought up the subject of the Supervisory Special Agent, there was a measure of girlish amusement on her face—almost like she hadn’t gotten to tease her friends when she was younger, so she was making up for lost time. Now, however, her eyes darted back and forth as if she was nervous.

  Clearing her throat, Autumn turned to face her friend. “Something else on your mind? What’s up?”

  As she heaved out a long breath, Winter played with the ends of her hair. “I got this message the other night. This weird, creepy message from a disposable email address.”

  A stone dropped into Autumn’s stomach. She suspected she knew the answer to her question, but she asked anyway. “Do you know who sent it?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was Justin.” Winter’s entire body had tightened, as if the thought of her brother had wound her to some breaking point. “All it said was that he’d talk to me soon, and then there was a link to one of those anonymous forums that deletes posts after twenty-four hours. The message said to keep an eye on the link, and then there was a picture of a black cat. The firework, not an actual kitty.”

  Autumn fought to keep the grim look from her face as she rubbed her chin. “Sounds like it’s really him, then, and not a hoax.”

  Winter shot Autumn a curious glance, the tension releasing a bit after her confession. “What do you think he meant by it?”

  A silence descended on them as Autumn tapped an index finger against her mug. “Well, he’s been trying to stay hidden for quite a while. It could mean that he wants to reach out to you, but he’s not ready to do it in person yet. It’s a pretty big step, so there are a lot of reasons he could be anxious about doing that.”

  Brushing a piece of ebony hair from her face, Winter nodded. “That’s what Noah thinks too. I made sure to log the email and the link to the forum as evidence in his kidnapping case, but I’m almost wondering if I should have done that at all. I mean, will it spook him? If he knows that I’m sharing all this with the FBI, what if he turns around and runs off again?”

  “He doesn’t have to know that you’re sharing it with the FBI. Even if he sees that the IP address from the field office accessed the post, he wouldn’t have any reason to think it was someone other than you. You did the right thing. We’ve still got no idea where he is or what kind of state he’s in, so it’s better to be safe.” Autumn lifted a shoulder, tossing her friend a bit of comfort, even if she didn’t believe it herself. “What if he needs your help at some point?”

  The corner of Winter’s mouth turned up for the briefest of moments. “That’s what I was thinking too. Thank you. That actually makes me feel a lot better.”

  Even as Autumn returned the smile, in the back of her mind she wondered about the real reason for Justin’s sudden outreach. In all honesty, she hoped that Justin was reaching out to her for help, and not for some other nefarious purpose.

  That was what her heart hoped.

  Her mind and her gut kne
w better.

  21

  As Winter stepped out of the elevator and made her way down the well-lit hall to Aiden Parrish’s office, she went over her sales pitch one more time.

  When she had proposed that they enlist Autumn’s help for the Arkwell case, Aiden’s refusal had taken her by surprise. She hadn’t prepared a sales pitch then, but she had mentally rehearsed a compelling argument before she and Noah even left for the office that morning.

  Winter was certain that there was more to Aiden’s affinity for Autumn than just a professional friendship, but she had no idea why he would actively seek to push Autumn out to arms’ length. No matter the reason for Aiden’s sudden standoffishness, the direction of this case dictated that the bureau consult with a psychological expert.

  If Winter’s theory was right—and she was confident it was—then there was much more at play than a serial killer.

  Who knew how many had fallen under the spell of the mastermind behind the seven deaths so far? Who knew how many were waiting to take up the madman’s mantle the second he was captured, imprisoned, or killed?

  They needed to know the extent of the killer’s influence, and there was no one better suited to unravel the mystery than Autumn Trent. Threat assessment was literally in her job title. And, in the event they came across a suspect, a psychological evaluation would no doubt be required.

  If Aiden disagreed with Winter’s pitch, she always had the option to make the suggestion to SAC Osbourne. However, part of her was confident that the situation wouldn’t devolve that far. Aiden was a professional above all else, and they had a pressing case to solve.

  As she neared the end of the hall, Winter popped a mint in her mouth to relieve it of the dryness the thought of this conversation had created. The blinds were closed on the other side of the glass and metal door, but the door was open wide enough to allow a slat of gold light to fall along the carpeted floor.

  After rapping her knuckles against the frame, Winter eased the door open until she could see Aiden seated behind his desk.

  His pale eyes flicked away from the computer monitor. “Good morning.”

  Winter took a tentative step into the office, tucking the mint behind her teeth. “Morning. I was wondering if you have a few minutes? There’s something I want to run by you.”

  With a nod, Aiden straightened in his chair. “Sure. Come on in.”

  Much like a delicate layer of frost on a crisp fall morning, a chill had settled in over top of Aiden’s usual cool demeanor. The extra layer of professionalism—if that’s what it could even be called—was scarcely noticeable, and Winter doubted that anyone who hadn’t known him for over a decade would have noticed.

  To be sure, Aiden wasn’t an emotionless automaton. Hidden under the sophisticated veneer he portrayed to the world was a man with a strong moral compass and a desire to make the world a better place. However, he wasn’t what Winter would call warm. And if she had to guess, the temperature of his demeanor had dropped a few degrees below what was typical.

  As Winter closed the door behind herself, Aiden waved to the two chairs in front of his polished mahogany desk. “Have a seat.”

  Winter managed another nod as she accepted the offer. More than likely, the added chill in his voice was due to their months’ old disagreement over his prediction for Justin’s current mental state. Aiden might have been professional, but the man had a long memory.

  One of these days—a day Winter didn’t necessarily look forward to—they would have to bring up the topic if they hoped to hash out their differences. But before Winter had even set off on her way up to Aiden’s office, she had decided that this wouldn’t be that day.

  “What can I help you with?”

  With a start, Winter wondered how long she had sat there in silence. She blinked a few times and shook her head to return herself to the present. “Sorry, it’s still pretty early. I probably haven’t had quite enough caffeine yet.”

  Aiden chuckled, but she could hear the concern behind the sound. For a split-second, the ice fell away. “It’s all right. I can sympathize. I think most of the people in this building are fueled more by caffeine than actual sleep.”

  Winter forced herself not to fidget. “You’re definitely not wrong there.”

  As Aiden folded his hands over a handful of papers, the familiar chill started to seep back into the air.

  Straightening her spine, Winter cleared her throat. “Okay, well, coffee jokes aside. I have a proposition to run by you. Something I think can help with this case.”

  She knew she didn’t have to elaborate on the case in question. Right now, to about half the people in the Richmond field office, this case had only one meaning.

  “Okay. We could use any help we can get, so I’m all ears.”

  Winter couldn’t have asked for a better lead-in. “This guy, the perpetrator, there’s a very real chance that he’s been coaxing other people to kill for him, or at least to kill on his behalf, right?”

  Aiden nodded, watching her so closely that a bead of sweat popped out on her temple. “With how different all the murders have been so far, I think that’s a distinct possibility.”

  Winter propped her elbows on the wooden arms of the chair. “And with the scope of these killings, with how much of a national, even international, impact this has had, I think it’s safe to say that we may well be dealing with the next Charles Manson.”

  When Aiden’s expression changed little, she knew he had drawn the same conclusion.

  “This is big, and unless we can catch this guy soon, it’s only going to get bigger.” Winter paused to meet Aiden’s intent stare. “Manson didn’t have the internet, and this guy does. There’s no telling how many people he could reach with his twisted message. There’s no telling how many more of the survivors from the Riverside Mall might be in danger.”

  Lips pressed into a thin line, Aiden nodded. “I agree. I’ve mentioned as much in the profile I’ve been working on. What are you thinking, then?”

  Winter laced her fingers together. “We need to be fast, and we need to be accurate. And if we want to be accurate in figuring out who exactly we’re looking for, then we need to understand the scope of the threat we’re facing. We need someone who understands how this type of thinking spreads and what can be done to stop it.”

  A flicker of understanding passed over Aiden’s otherwise stoic face.

  Before he could interject, Winter forged ahead. “Look, I know you weren’t that thrilled to bring in Autumn’s help for the Arkwell case, but look what happened when you did? If it weren’t for her, there’s no way I could have gotten Cameron Arkwell to surrender without hurting anyone. That case could have ended very, very badly, but it didn’t, and Autumn’s a big part of that.”

  Aiden didn’t know it, but Winter had only scratched the surface of her lengthy sales pitch.

  He offered her an inquisitive look. “Why bring it to me and not Max?”

  Winter was genuinely surprised by the question. “Why wouldn’t I bring it to you? You have the rapport with Shadley and Latham.”

  His questioning gaze didn’t waver. “You seem like you were ready for an argument. Remember, I’ve known you for quite a while. I’ve argued with you plenty of times.”

  Rolling her eyes in feigned exasperation, Winter waved away the remark. To her relief, his quip melted the frost she had noticed earlier. For the first time in months, she felt like she was sitting across from Aiden Parrish, and not the Supervisory Special Agent of the BAU.

  As if he could read her thoughts, the corner of his mouth turned up in the start of a smile. “I think it’s a good idea. Did you already tell Autumn about it, or will I be blindsiding her when I send the paperwork over to Shadley and Latham?”

  “I didn’t tell her too much, but I told her we might need her help.”

  Even though Aiden had just conceded to Winter’s point, she had to make an effort to stop herself from launching into the prepared pitch. As much as she wanted to know
the reason for his sudden change of heart, she reminded herself that there was more important work to be done.

  “I’ll get everything sent over to Shadley and Latham within the next half-hour or so,” Aiden said.

  With a slight smile, Winter nodded, moving the mint to the other side of her mouth. “That sounds good. We have a briefing this afternoon where we’re planning to go through the newest updates from the Danville PD’s tip line as well as the statements from Tim Young and his daughter.”

  Aiden scooted closer to his desk. “I’ll make sure she’s here before the briefing. I’ll go over what I’ve got with her too, and hopefully, we’ll bring a more complete profile to the briefing.”

  Little by little, Winter pushed the curiosity from her thoughts as she returned focus to the investigation.

  There would be plenty of time to mend fences with Aiden after they put away the person responsible for orchestrating the murders of at least seven innocent people.

  22

  By the time their afternoon briefing rolled around, Noah felt like eight o’clock that morning had occurred in a different decade. However, just because the day felt like ten years compressed into the span of six hours didn’t mean they had been unproductive.

  As Noah closed the blinds on the glass door, he glanced over the room. Whenever the bureau enlisted Autumn’s help, she tended to gravitate toward her fellow psychological expert, Aiden Parrish. Though Noah knew he and Aiden would never be friends, he was more than willing to admit that Autumn and Aiden made a good team. It really was too bad that Autumn hadn’t accepted Parrish’s offer to work for the FBI.

  Noah was fresh off a phone call with Detective Grace Meyer from Danville, and Sun and Miguel had spent much of the day parsing through old case files. On the other hand, Bree and Winter had been given the unenviable task of sifting through the phone call notes to determine which tips were valid. Though the Danville PD had manned the phone lines so far, they didn’t have the availability to sit down to evaluate each potential lead.