Untold

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Untold Page 18

by Nancy Ann Healy


  Alex took a deep breath. “That’s what we are trying to determine.”

  The governor nodded.

  “It’s the FBI’s belief, that yes, we are dealing with an active serial killer,” Alex told her.

  “Who is targeting upstate New York?”

  “It would appear this is an area he frequents,” Alex admitted. Candace waited. “I’m not convinced it’s his only hunting ground.”

  Candace Reid felt a chill travel up her spine. “All right. Agent Toles, I assume that you know everyone present. I want to make certain that the FBI has the full partnership of our resources. Whatever we can provide, you only need to ask.”

  Alex nodded gratefully.

  “You and Superintendent Foster are acquainted?” the governor directed her question to Alex.

  Alex smiled. She had only recently met the State Police Superintendent. The position was an appointee of the governor. She did not know Greg Foster well. She did have great faith in the governor. That told Alex everything she needed to know.

  “We’ve been introduced,” Alex said.

  “Good. Now, give me the basics,” the governor requested.

  “As you know, several days ago a young woman named Kaylee Peters was found in the Conesville section of Ashland-Pinnacle State Forest. A day later, we uncovered the remains of two bodies where Kaylee Peters had last been seen—a state park in Connecticut.”

  “And, you believe these murders are related?” a voice asked.

  Candace Reid looked at Alex for an answer.

  “We believe that is a probability—yes,” Alex replied.

  “A probability?” another voice questioned.

  Alex took a deep breath. “Two days ago, a young woman from this area was discovered with similar injuries to Kaylee’s just a little over a mile from where Kaylee disappeared.”

  “And, the two other victims?” the governor asked.

  “Awaiting identification,” Claire interjected.

  “That will tell us a great deal more,” Alex explained.

  “Any idea who they were?” Governor Reid inquired.

  “We have leads. Until we have a positive ID, I can’t comment.”

  “Do you have any profile at all yet?” Greg Foster asked.

  “About as basic as it gets,” Alex replied honestly. “Based on the two victims we do know, it is a male. He’s likely someone who travels the New York to Connecticut corridor. Could be a truck driver or a salesperson of some kind. The identification of the other two victims will help us to determine if that is a narrow enough field.”

  “And?”

  Alex sighed. She hated these types of meetings. As a profiler, everything Alex ascertained was an educated guess. Her assessments were almost always close to the mark. But, she had miscalculated before. The current circumstances demanded she hit a bullseye.

  “His age could vary. My best estimate is someone in his mid-thirties to early forties. If these four victims are related; it appears that his pattern of violence has escalated over time. He likely has been at this a while,” she explained.

  “Go on,” Candace Reid urged.

  “He may have knowledge of or an interest in the military or law enforcement. I’d prefer not to examine those specifics in this setting.”

  Governor Reid nodded and let her eyes fall on each person in the room as she addressed them. “No egos. No assumptions. Agent Toles is running this investigation. All hands on deck,” she told them. She looked at her Superintendent. “Anything pertinent, any new development, I want it before the press,” she said. He nodded. The governor turned to a woman seated beside her. “Dana, you know the drill. Keep the press at bay as much as you can so that Agent Toles can stay focused.”

  “That’s like trying to put a leash on a shark and take it for a walk,” Claire mumbled. Alex jabbed her. “What?”

  Candace Reid looked at the younger FBI agent impassively for a moment. She surprised the room with her laughter. “Accurate,” she acknowledged Agent Brackett. “Keep me in the loop,” she said with a nod. As the room began to empty, she held Alex’s gaze. “Give me a minute with the good agent,” she turned to the woman beside her.

  “Now, why do I think there is a story here?” Claire whispered in Alex’s ear.

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Not the kind you read at bedtime,” she grinned at Claire.

  Claire shook her head. “I’m gonna talk to Foster.”

  Alex met the governor in the center of the room.

  “Alex,” Candace Reid softened her tone.

  “Candace.”

  Candace sighed. “Not the way I’d hoped to catch up. Back in the saddle, I see?” she teased Alex.

  “For now,” Alex replied. “What about you? I hear you have your eyes on a bigger house.”

  Candace laughed. “You’ve been talking to Jane.”

  Alex shrugged. “If it matters, I think you’d be great.”

  “It matters.”

  “Not sure you want that job, huh?” Alex guessed.

  “The presidency isn’t like anything else. We both know that,” Candace said.

  Alex nodded. “John would have loved to see you there.”

  “I know. I still miss that difficult son of a bitch,” Candace laughed.

  “Me too.”

  “How’s Cassidy?”

  Alex smirked. “Now, why is it I think you probably already know that answer?”

  Candace winked. “I wish we had a chance to talk more often,” she admitted.

  “I’m sure Cass feels the same way. It’s crazy with the kids.”

  “Tell me,” Candace laughed. “If three’s company, four is insanity.”

  Alex chuckled. “Imagine five.”

  “No, thank you,” Candace said. “Oh, no! Really? Are you two expecting again?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Good for you. I’ll tell you, being Nana and Mommy at the same time is not something I ever expected.”

  “I can imagine,” Alex said.

  Candace sobered. “Alex, this one—this is personal.”

  Alex was curious.

  “Deirdre Slocum is the daughter of one of my high school friends,” Candace explained.

  Alex groaned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” Candace said. “I don’t want to meet again to review a body count.”

  Alex nodded. “Me neither.”

  Candace led Alex to the door. “Do me a favor?” she asked Alex. “Let’s make sure we don’t keep being brought together by death?”

  Alex smiled. She’d gotten to know the governor well after President John Merrow’s assassination and the death of Cassidy’s ex-husband. Senator Candace Fletcher had been one of the first people to call Cassidy and offer her support. Cassidy had never forgotten that, and neither had Alex. While they did not visit often, Alex knew that Cassidy kept in touch with the governor, and Alex considered Candace a trusted friend.

  “When this is all over, you should come down and visit. Cass would love to see you.”

  “Mm. Jameson would love to revisit that billiards table.”

  Alex nodded. She and Candace’s wife, Jameson shared a few passions, not the least of which was a competitive game of billiards over some beer.

  “You know, she keeps insisting we should get one,” Candace laughed. “I told her it’s already a full house.”

  “Well, maybe that’s a good reason to upgrade,” Alex teased.

  “Not you too,” Candace rolled her eyes. “A lesbian in the White House?”

  Alex shrugged. “Hey, I landed Cass, that proves anything is possible.”

  Candace laughed. She sobered when her hand reached the door. “Alex,” she said. “If you need anything at all…”

  Alex smiled appreciatively. It wasn’t her policy to break protocol on a whim. But, Alex had traversed the mucky waters of politics and justice. The two collided more often than most wanted to admit. Any time that a serial killer was on the loose, public angst and public accusation swelled. Th
at never had any good place to lead. Alex knew that too. “I’ll keep you in the loop,” she promised.

  “You honestly think we have a serial killer on our hands?” Candace asked.

  Alex nodded. “I wish I didn’t.”

  Candace clasped Alex’s hand. “Me too. Be careful,” Candace advised.

  “We’ll talk,” Alex said. Candace nodded her thanks.

  “What was that about?” Claire asked when Alex caught up to her.

  “You mean Candace?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s just trying to figure out how to control things, I suspect.”

  “Control what? This guy isn’t about to be controlled.”

  Alex nodded. “No,” she agreed. “I meant keeping the public informed without causing panic.”

  “Good luck with that. He’s not done yet.”

  Alex couldn’t argue. If she was right, three dead women all from the area was not something likely to instill confidence in the community. She feared that there was more to come. “Let’s hope we’re both wrong.”

  ***

  “Where are we headed or should I not ask?” Claire wondered.

  “I want to check out that spot where those kids were headed when they found Deidre Slocum.”

  Claire let her eyes track back to the scenery outside her window. A forensics team had processed that scene for more than three days. Claire wasn’t sure what Alex hoped to find, but she understood the inclination. Four days of waiting for a positive identification of the two women they had found had seemed like a lifetime. There were plenty of clues as to the killer’s motivation. There were painfully few that led to any leads regarding who he might be. It was frustrating. Four days of poring over backstories, photographs, scant physical evidence, autopsy reports, and psychological profiles had led them to exactly nothing new. The only thing Claire was certain about was that whoever had killed the women in the woods, he would kill again.

  “You okay?” Alex asked.

  Claire turned and looked at Alex in surprise.

  “What? You’re quiet.”

  Claire shook her head. “I was just thinking.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Funny, Toles. Does everyone else know what a comedienne you are?”

  Alex shrugged. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

  Claire smirked.

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

  “Not really,” Claire fluttered her eyelashes. Teasing Alex had become a game Claire enjoyed. She found it amusing how easily she could embarrass the older woman. “I was thinking,” Claire turned back to the case. “What if he was sending us a message?”

  Alex grimaced. “You mean with Deidre Slocum?”

  “Yeah. I mean, think about it. No matter what anyone says, we both know that was too obvious for him. He didn’t take any care with her at all.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Why would he change like that unless he was…”

  “That’s why I want to see where those boys were headed again.”

  “You think there is something we missed?” Claire asked.

  “Not forensically. Sometimes, the clue that leads you home isn’t something you can hold in your hand.”

  ***

  “Mr. Duncan?” a woman poked her head into the office.

  “Oh, Janine,” Bryce Duncan replied. “Come in.”

  “I know you’re busy, what with being away so much lately and all.”

  Bryce Duncan smiled at his intern. “Nonsense. That just means business is good. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I fielded a call from Mr. Krause early this morning.”

  “Jonathan Krause?” he asked for clarification.

  Janine nodded. “He said the Carecom warehouse in Stamford is ahead of schedule. He’d hoped we could move up our timetable.”

  “I’ll give him a call.”

  Janine cringed.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Well, he said he would be out of the country for the next week.”

  Duncan nodded. “Did he leave a contact?”

  “He said his sister could review the specs if you sent them.”

  Duncan laughed. “My day just got longer.”

  “Sir?”

  “Oh, nothing. Jonathan is a meticulous client,” he explained. “His sister ran Carecom for years before he took over. If he’s meticulous, she’s next to impossible.”

  “You mean she’s difficult?”

  Bryce laughed harder. “You have no idea.”

  ***

  “I hate the woods,” Claire complained. “I’ve got all these little tiny pricks everywhere.”

  “Sounds more like the résumé of your love life,” Alex replied.

  Claire stopped in her tracks. “Seriously, Toles; you have to stop making jokes. I’m beginning to think you have a personality.”

  Alex parted two large branches blocking her path and took a step forward onto a large rock.

  Claire went to follow and was promptly hit in the face by the same branches. “Toles!”

  Alex snickered as Claire stepped through and dusted herself off. She shook her head at Claire. “Be careful of all those little pricks,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Ha-ha.” Claire looked out at the view in front of them. “And, you didn’t even bring a picnic basket.”

  “Nope. I wonder if anyone else has, though.”

  “You think he came here for this view?”

  “I don’t know,” Alex admitted. She let her eyes fall over the landscape in front of her methodically. She shook her head.

  “What are you thinking?” Claire asked.

  Alex huffed. “We could have teams our here for months, all day, every day, and not find anything we are looking for.”

  “You mean anyone.”

  Alex turned to Claire. “I do,” she said and turned her attention back to the horizon.

  Claire’s eyes tracked the distance, noting the area where they had discovered the two women buried some days ago. Slowly, her eyes moved to the ground at her feet. She nearly jumped out of her skin when something moved. “What the fuck?” Claire’s feet left the ground.

  Alex started laughing, “It’s just a garter snake.”

  “A snake? Just a snake?”

  Alex nearly doubled over with laughter.

  “It’s not funny, Toles.”

  “You can sneak into Russian SVR offices, steal cesium for a dirty bomb,” Alex kept laughing. “I mean, I would have thought sleeping with O’Brien would have cured any fear of snakes.”

  “I’m not afraid of them,” Claire scoffed at the notion. “I prefer they stay away from me is all.”

  Alex’s laughter slowed to a dull roar. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Fuck you, Toles.”

  Alex laughed again.

  Claire shivered slightly and looked out across the pond. Alex noted that her gaze had become pensive.

  “What?” Alex asked.

  Claire pointed off to an area on the left side of a large pond.

  “What do you see?” Alex asked, following Claire’s line of sight.

  “Do you think Kaylee ever took pictures up here?”

  “I haven’t seen any, but there are thousands I haven’t looked at yet.”

  Claire shook her head. “I wonder what it looks like after the leaves fall—how far you can see?”

  Alex looked back across the pond. “Perfect spot to plan.”

  “And to watch.”

  Alex looked at Claire. Claire wasn’t only smart; she was intuitive.

  “What?” Claire asked.

  “Let’s go talk to Donovan.”

  ***

  Alex groaned as she walked back into the Peters’ living room. She placed her phone back in her pocket.

  “Everything okay?” Claire asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Cass…”

  “It wasn’t Cass. Just something Jonathan needs me to look at.”

&nbs
p; Claire nodded. “Donovan was just telling me that they didn’t hike up there often.”

  “Any reason?” Alex asked.

  Donovan shrugged. “It’s not the easiest place to get to.”

  “No shit,” Claire muttered, gently rubbing the red prickles on her skin.

  Alex snickered.

  “Used to be a party place,” Donovan explained. “From what my dad said it used to get a little wild up there at times.”

  “Used to?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah. They check that area a lot now. I mean, most of the forest you could walk for hours and never see another soul.”

  “And, Flat Rock is different?” Alex guessed.

  “A while back, two kids got killed up there. The rangers make it a point to check that place out. For a long time, the police even hiked in at night.”

  The statement caught both Alex and Claire’s attention immediately.

  “What happened?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t really know the whole story,” he admitted. “I was only seven. Kids partying—you know how that goes. It was night. From what I know, they were drinking beer and started wrestling. Somehow, two of them went over the edge. It was an accident. After that, they started watching that area more; you know?”

  Alex nodded her understanding.

  “Lots of ghost stories up there.” Donovan shrugged. “Sometimes you’ll find some beer cans or butts up there. Thing is, if you get caught up there drinking they don’t go all that easy on you. Mostly, I think it’s avid hikers that stop there now. They probably don’t know the story. Kaylee never wanted to go up there. I think it creeped her out.”

  “What about you?” Claire asked. “Did you ever go up there?”

  Donovan shook his head. “Not often,” he told her. “It just feels…”

  “Creepy?” Claire guessed.

  Donovan replied with an embarrassed nod.

  “Thanks,” Alex said.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help.”

  Alex shook her head. “You did help.”

  “How? I don’t even have anything to show you. Maybe if I wasn’t such a sissy—creeped out by an old story,” he berated himself.

  “Give yourself a break, kid,” Claire chimed. “The asshole who did this? Well… Sometimes there’s good reason to be creeped out.”

 

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