Carolina Rain

by Rick Murcer

  “Hey, Chloe. I’m kind of in the middle of something . . .”

  Manny stopped talking and listened. Chloe wasn’t the kind to drop into panic mode, but she was close.

  Ninety seconds later, he felt his guts tighten.

  “Calm down. You got this handled, Chloe.”

  Her speech slowed and the panic was replaced with her cop demeanor . . . almost. Good girl.

  “You called Gavin? Okay. Do it. Have the CSU come to process the envelope for prints. And, Chloe, what color is it? Yes, color. Close enough. We’ll be landing within a half hour so we’ll be there soon. Okay? Just sit tight.”

  He was ready to hang up, except his new wife stopped him.

  “What else, Chloe?”

  After she was done, he felt more than his guts tighten. The finger was one issue, but the dead man who was Doctor Fredrick Argyle still haunted him. Would it, he, ever end?

  “Just leave the disc for the tech and tell Buzzy not to do anything until we get there. I promise, honey, we’ll be there soon. Now call Gavin . . . and I love you.”

  Tossing the phone on the empty seat beside him, Manny released his seatbelt, stood, and looked at the people staring at him from around the table. This was all too much. It was enough to think that there might be something deeper going on with the recent murders in North Carolina. Not to mention, the mysterious Janice Rhode’s attempt to kill him in the hospital. That didn’t include the apparent spontaneous reformation of Anna Cruz and the months it could take to see if she was an anomaly or an abomination.

  Now there was a severed finger sent to his house. A DVD from Ireland and Haley Roses’ bed and breakfast laced with promises of more hell, that Argyle said he could deliver, and all within seventy-two hours. Why now? Why all of this at once? He didn’t believe in coincidence, so what was really going on? What did all of this have in common?

  Manny was gifted with one more inspiration. And it caused his dread to rise higher.

  “What the hell was that all about?” asked Alex, pointing to the phone on the seat.

  “Let’s just say it’s raining a shit-storm back home,” said Manny. “But before I explain, Alex, I need you to do something for me when we get back to Lansing.”

  “What?”

  “I need a body exhumed.”

  CHAPTER-52

  Pulling up to the front of his house in the Bureau’s SUV, in typical bat-out-of-hell fashion that was Sophie’s signature style, Manny was possessed with a feeling of déjà vu that crept inside him as he considered the three LPD cruisers in the driveway. He had done this far too many times the last two years. It seemed like this house, his home, had been at the center of every battle the good guys had fought against all that was wrong with this planet. He’d lost and won wars here, had been invaded by Argyle and survived. He’d been blessed by Louise, Jen, Sampson, and now Chloe. No doubt, he’d gained some but, in the end, lost much more, including the first love of his life. It shouldn’t be, none of it. Whatever happened to a man’s home being his castle? Now here he was again. Severed fingers, DVDs from a dead madman, and a new mother-in-law who may have been mentally tainted from exposure to that brilliant psychopath.

  Exiting the truck, he hurried toward the front door, his mind still focused on the setting.

  And what of Chloe? She was strong in ways like no other woman he’d ever met. She’d never complained—it just wasn’t her nature—but, maybe she deserved something else entirely. To have a domicile void of memories and history that would never truly be hers. A place that she could call her own with her new family.

  Damn, how could I be so blind?

  She deserved her own home. And if he—they—survived the crowning culmination of what he suspected was to come regarding the chain of events over the last ten weeks, then he’d fix that for her.

  Shaking off his self-deprecation, Manny entered the house, followed by Sophie, Josh, Dean, and Alex. Braxton had decided to go back to DC and oversee the research on the names Manny had requested. That was good by him. Manny had been counting on it.

  He was immediately mugged by the one-hundred-thirty pound black Lab that doubled as his bodyguard and sometimes confidant. Sampson barked, stood on his hind legs, reaching the top of Manny’s six-foot frame, then licked his face.

  “Good to see you, Big Dog,” he said, returning the hug.

  After one more lick, Sampson dropped to all fours and moved to the corner of the front room and sat down, never taking his eyes from Manny.

  Good dog.

  Walking through the doorway into the kitchen, Manny saw Chloe. She took two strides and was in his arms. She belonged there. The smell of her hair and the gentle strength of her embrace made him wonder why he’d ever think of leaving her again. Maybe he wouldn’t.

  “About time ya got here, Williams,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek, then stepping away.

  “We got here as fast as we could. I was going to surprise you. I guess you beat me to it,” he answered.

  Chloe nodded. “Not my idea of a fancy surprise, don’t ya know.”

  “I suppose not. Listen, not to rush things, but I need to see the DVD that Haley Rose brought with her . . . now.”

  “It’s in there. I put it in my laptop—well, the Bureau’s laptop—and after viewing Argyle’s little drama, I left it in there.”

  “How’s your mom?”

  “She seems normal . . . appalled at the DVD and the finger.”

  “Good. That’s a good first step.”

  Haley Rose was a resolute woman, headstrong even. So maybe she was totally unscathed by Argyle’s influence. And perhaps that’s what Argyle had wanted. At any rate, Haley Rose seemed undamaged, for whatever purpose, for now.

  Just then, Gavin came around the corner, followed by two CSU techs, including Buzzy Dancer. The look on his face reminded Manny of when they had worked together. His old boss was in full investigative mode. It had been a while since Manny had seen that. He liked it.

  “Good to have you back, Williams. I hope that vacation in North Carolina didn’t mess up your leisurely-ass schedule.”

  “We kept his butt busy,” said Sophie, pushing between Alex and Dean to stand beside Manny.

  “We were all busy. I’ll tell you about it a bit later. Right now, I need to see that video,” said Manny.

  “Don’t you want to know about the finger?” asked Gavin.

  “What’s to tell? It’s Max’s, right?”

  “How did you know that?” asked Gavin.

  “It made sense because of where it was mailed from . . . and Chloe told me the skin tone was dark.”

  “But it could have turned colors based on several factors,” said Dean.

  “True. But I guess I’ll be more interested in what Alex and Dean find on and in the envelope. The reason it was mailed is the question,” said Manny.

  “And what, pray tell, would that be?” asked Alex.

  “To get us back here.”

  “You didn’t mention that when you were cluing us in on what was going on in your house,” said Josh.

  “I thought it obvious. What I’m still working through, however, and feel free to chime in any time, is why all of this now? Starting with Garity’s knife, then the hospital where I was almost killed, again. The timing of the DVD, the mailing of the finger, the new information about Max’s and Garity’s killer leading to Garcia, and his mysterious extra activities. I’ll say it again: why now? Throw in the timing of the oddest set of circumstances surrounding a serial killer, Anna Ruiz, that we’ve witnessed in this damned job, and I’m ready for the funny farm.”

  “You think the rest of this is part of something bigger, though?” asked Chloe, her interest rising.

  “He’s paranoid on this one," said Sophie. “It’s just circumstantial. You know, like full moon stuff. I mean, hell, Dean even wore blue jeans on the trip home instead of paisley bell bottoms. It don’t get much weirder than that.”

  “I guess I should feel complimented, sort of,�
�� said Dean.

  “Maybe I am paranoid,” said Manny. “Let’s find out. Buzzy?”

  “Follow, me, Boss,” she said, grinning. Wearing her pink jeans and matching sweater with a large embroidered “B” outlined in sequins over her heart, she motioned for him to follow.

  The others crowded around the table at the other end of the kitchen as Buzzy and Manny sat down in front of the laptop. Buzzy hit the ENTER button and watched as Argyle’s face eventually exploded into reality. It was disturbing. Not only to see him, head intact, but to also think he’d planned this far ahead and pulled it off. The silence in the room said everyone else was thinking the same thing. The brilliant lunatic seemed to be eternal.

  They watched and listened to the complete message. Manny took some mental notes but, with Argyle already dead, he wasn’t concerned with personality so much as information. He would not create a message like this without leaving clues to the answer, no matter how subtle. The man had been incapable of thinking differently.

  Once Argyle had finished, the message box appeared again, ran through its blood red color scheme, then pulsed the time remaining to solve his riddle.

  47 HOURS, 28 MINUTES, 15 SECONDS.

  With each tick of the second display, Manny felt his angst grow.

  “Is this for real?” He looked at Buzzy.

  “It is. There is a file imbedded under this layer that’s titled HELP. He has allowed us to see it in a sub-directory, but not to access it. I tried everything I know. He’s got it tied to that password sequence, and I think even if I could eventually break in, it would wipe out the content. He either had some help or was much more skilled at this junk than the average person. He would have had to be, you know? Because I’m good at this.”

  Josh’s phone rang. He stepped back into the front room to answer it.

  “Say it is what Argyle says it is. What do you think that means, exactly?” asked Sophie.

  “It might mean that we find out how far his reach extended, and we just might save a life or two, mainly Manny’s,” said Alex.

  “Or we’re sent into one trap after another,” said Chloe. “His profile isn’t exactly the helpful kind. He’d want to make sure, even after his death, that his goals were consummated.”

  Dean bent closer to the screen and then put his hand on Manny’s shoulder. “You don’t think it’s any of that, do you?”

  The CSI was right. It wasn’t any of those things. “I think it has to do with exposing something, or someone. There’s information in that file that will take us to something we’ve not run into before. That I’m sure of.”

  “Okay, Paranoid Boy, like what?” asked Sophie.

  Exhaling, Manny spoke. “What if Argyle had been part of something bigger? Remember the shit he took from introducing the mental health community to a different perspective on treating certain dissociative and schizophrenic disorders? His peers crucified him and he almost lost his job. A couple of years later, we run into Peppercorn, a.k.a, Eli Jenkins, on the cruise ship. Then Argyle disappears for a few months, then he’s back to torment us again, then he allows himself to be caught, then escapes, with help, and then is gone again until he shows up in Ireland where he forces me to kill him. Do you see the pattern?”

  “There is a rhythm to it, sort of, but come on, Manny. You can see whatever you want to see in situations like that. If you’re right, that would mean that someone else knew about him, and, for God’s sake, was helping him do what he was doing. That’s just too nuts to buy into,” said Alex, the nervousness obvious in his voice.

  “What if he had been part of a study or experiment to expand his theories? What if someone was interested in the idea of influencing another’s thoughts and wanted to see if that could be taken to a higher level? I mean look at Peppercorn. And we all saw how Argyle was able to influence Max and Garity. You’d have to be in the dark ages to not see the reports and stories coming from South America regarding date-rape type drugs leading to supposed mind-control studies. Not to mention rumors of that sort of thing involving our very own government.”

  “Dude, that’s just urban legend, right?” said Dean.

  “Maybe not. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, they say.”

  Josh had come back into the room and was standing with his legs apart, the phone still in his hand.

  “I just got a call from the Charlotte, North Carolina, office. Captain Jeb Tanner was found shot in his car this morning.”

  The room went quiet, then Manny broke the silence.

  “Damn it. I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

  “He was shot just like Max and Garity. Two to the head. I told them to find Garcia and that he was probably involved. The agent on the other end said no problem locating him. Garcia had been found in a parking lot near Fort Fisher. Dead from a broken neck.”

  “What?” said Sophie.

  “It seems Manny might be on to something,” said Josh, an edge creeping into his voice. “The death of those two looks like a cleanup job and, God knows I saw a few of those when I worked the organized crime unit before coming to the BAU. Tanner learns about Garcia, Garcia takes him out, then whomever Garcia works for cleans up Garcia to close the circle.”

  “Cleaning up what then? Are you saying there is some government cover-up going on here?” asked Alex.

  “What I think is that Garcia killed Tanner and then was eliminated himself. Whoever killed Garcia doesn’t want to have breakfast with us,” said Josh.

  “What the hell does that have to do with Argyle?” asked Gavin.

  Manny shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first one to get caught up in government funding for research to prove his theories. And, if I’m right, it explains, at least in part, how he did what he did—except the psychopath part.”

  Chloe was nodding her head. “You believe you’re right, don’t you?”

  “I’m not totally sure. But I think it’s time we get into that file to find out,” Manny said.

  Reaching over to pull the laptop close to him, Manny typed in a password. The screen exploded into laughter. Argyle’s laughter.

  “Wrong phrase, Agent Williams, you have two more chances. I wouldn’t screw up again, if I were you.”

  “What the hell did you type in?” asked Sophie. “And how did he know it was you?”

  “Argyle’s name. It made sense, given who he was, and who else would be doing this?”

  “Well, you better rethink it. You’ve got two more shots,” said Sophie.

  “How about Ireland or Galway?” asked Chloe.

  “Good thought,” said Manny. “Galway might make sense.”

  Just as he began to type, he pulled back and looked at Sophie.

  “Did you hear what he said? He said I typed in the wrong phrase. Not the wrong word, but the wrong phrase,” said Manny, his excitement obvious.

  “That’s right, he did,” said Chloe.

  “That clever bastard. I know what it is . . .,” started Sophie.

  “. . . because one never knows,” finished Manny.

  He entered the words and waited, hardly able to breathe.

  The screen melted into red, blue, green, and then went blank. Ten seconds later, a file flap opened, then grew in large, bold font, displaying a list of eight names and faces.

  Manny looked at the pictures, and felt his mind grow numb. The total silence in the room meant that the others were focusing on the same face as he.

  How could this be? How could his friend be on any list like this one?

  CHAPTER-53

  The Enclave sped west on Interstate 40, heading toward Raleigh, North Carolina, eventually taking him to his true destination. One that he had waited for some time to revisit. He wanted to be there already but longing wasn’t his indulgence. He’d get there and right on time. After all, that’s what he did best—make things happen on time, particularly given the set of events over the last ten weeks. In the end, it had all worked out and everything would be revealed, shining a light that would be im
possible to hide in the darkness. Heads would roll, figuratively and literally, but not for him. That was never part of the plan or, for that matter, the deal he’d struck with the others involved in this little project. In a few hours, he’d be off the radar completely and free to do what he wanted and needed to do. The same couldn’t be said for the man that would come tumbling down because of his little project. Such is life . . . and death.

  On second thought, he’d evolved far past that. Had he not? He no longer felt the need to do anything; rather, he was free to decide what to do and when to do it. A vast difference in his eyes.

  He hit the pedal. He did have one more “mission” to finish. However, he’d do it in his own time, and time was something he had. Which was more than he could say for a certain FBI Special Agent.

  He laughed out loud. Is there a destiny worse than the one that you don’t know is chasing you?

  Turning the music up another notch, he cruised toward his destination.

  CHAPTER-54

  Josh Corner walked through the second security station, showed his Bureau ID to the armed guards, swiped it, went through the full-body scanner, and came out the other side. He strapped on his shoulder holster and motioned for the other four agents to follow him.

  As they entered the elevator heading for his rendezvous, he thought again how Manny had been right. As crazy as it had seemed, the boy had been right. About the names he handed to him on the jet, about Argyle’s association with them, and ultimately, with the man he was going to see. The classified files that Josh had finally gained complete access to, confirmed it.

  Five of the men, and one woman, who had appeared on the list—Robert Peppercorn, Max Tucker, Ben Garcia, Michael Garity, Fredrick Argyle, and Janice Rhodes—had indeed all been in the same place at the same time some four years prior. Each of them had spent four weeks in a research center for the criminally insane near Dallas, Texas. His intelligence had verified it. They’d all been part of a project called HELP. He didn’t know what the title, or possible acronym, stood for, but he would find out shortly. The experiment had been designed to develop mind-altering therapies under Argyle’s tutelage. The idea was to tap into alternate realities that each of the seven participants expressed while under the influence of a variety of drugs, including several supposed mind-control concoctions. To make the experiment totally viable, they needed subjects of varying mental capacities and different levels of mental health.