[Kate Reid 01.0 - 03.0] Unbound

by Robin Mahle

  Edward had moved last year and was now attending UCSD’s graduate program in Criminal Justice. He was older than most of his classmates. He didn’t have Mommy and Daddy footing the bill for him, which he suspected was Lindsay’s story, and she was five years his junior.

  “Here you are.” Lindsay set the drink down on the chunky black coffee table, placing a coaster beneath it first. She lowered herself onto the couch, crossing her legs. Her form-fitted skirt raised slightly. “We’ve got a hot tub in the backyard. Care for a dip?”

  “I don’t have any swim trunks.”

  Lindsay stood up. “Don’t worry; you won’t need them.”

  Edward emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. He made his way to the back patio and slipped through the already opened sliding glass door. Lindsay was there, waiting for him. He lowered the towel and stepped inside the foamy water. The heat felt good on his cold skin.

  Lindsay moved closer to him and it wasn’t until she dipped her head backwards into the water and raised it up again that he finally began to feel heat in the place that mattered most. He hadn’t been overly attracted to her until that moment and he knew exactly why.

  Lindsay’s hair lay straight against her shoulders, dark and wet and it was then that she reminded him of her. The one woman he’d been drawn to. The one woman who could make him move several hundred miles just to be near. Edward closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her.

  Katie.

  The clock seemed to be moving in slow motion. Katie desperately needed for this class to end and hadn’t been able to focus on tonight’s lesson at all. Staying home would have been better, but she knew that would have meant Marshall, under some sort of perceived obligation, would have stayed home with her. Instead, she insisted she was fine, having already missed two days of work.

  Marshall had left for the station this morning before she even got out of bed, which was just as well because he got to miss out on watching her get sick; one of the side effects Dr. Johnson had warned her about.

  The Markham case was still being turned over for federal prosecution. Katie figured he still had a fair bit of paperwork to wrap up today and would be home late.

  “That’ll be all for tonight. Remember, the presentations are due next week. Thank you all and have a good night.” The professor opened up his carrier bag and dropped his files and textbooks inside.

  Katie stood up and put her laptop inside her own bag, but on her way out the door, she was stopped.

  “Good class tonight, don’t you think?”

  She wasn’t really in the mood to speak with Edward, but let him walk beside her along the corridor out of kindness. “Yeah. It was. How are you, Edward?”

  “Good, thanks. Listen, you want to go and grab a coffee? I wouldn’t mind bouncing some ideas off of you for this presentation we’ve got coming up.”

  Edward was fond of Katie. She had picked up on that early on this semester. But, it seemed he had become more and more insistent that she spend time with him. Of course, he knew about Marshall and in fact had picked her brain on more than one occasion regarding a few of their past cases. He had never brought up last year, though, and she was grateful for that.

  “I’m really sorry, Edward, but I’ve got to get home. It’s been a long day.” She tried to pick up the pace, working to stay a couple steps ahead of him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your ideas are great. You always do well with these types of assignments. I’ll catch up with you later?”

  Edward stopped short. “Yeah, sure. No problem. Have a good night, Katie.”

  She continued on toward the parking lot and glanced back at him. He was growing smaller in the distance, but she could clearly see his face. Although he was smiling, something lay beneath that smile that caused her to stumble.

  When she’d reached her car, she fumbled for her keys while scanning the immediate area. The shadows were playing off each other and, in an imagination as prolific as hers, all sorts of scenarios rushed to mind. Katie pressed the remote to unlock the door. The noise seemed to echo in the near-empty lot. Her breath was becoming labored under the weight of her thoughts. The steam rose from her mouth as she finally pulled open the driver’s side door and slipped inside.

  She shut the door of her small SUV and locked herself inside. What are you doing? He’s not following you. The guy’s harmless. You’re letting your imagination get the better of you. She’d already begun sliding down that slippery slope Marshall warned her about. Edward had never been anything but kind and helpful to her.

  The engine purred as she gripped the steering wheel and Katie began to laugh at her own irrationality. With her hand now on the gear shift, she noticed the light from her cell phone and reached to answer it.

  “Well, hello. What are you doing calling so late, Marc? Slow news day?”

  “Sort of. What’s going on with you? Haven’t talked in forever. You and Marshall still working on the Markham case?”

  “Just finishing it up. Well, Marshall is anyway. I’m just leaving class now. What’s going on?”

  Katie and Marc Aguilar had remained friends since Rio Dell. He was a good guy and they often phoned or texted one another just to check in and see how the other was doing. Once in a while, Marc would ask about their cases, but if they were open, she couldn’t say much. He understood. She was glad to be hearing from him now and it seemed to help pull her out of the spiral she was heading down.

  “You still got a connection with the FBI? Nick or somebody else down there?”

  “I haven’t talked to him in a long time, Marc. Why? Hey, I’m gonna put you on speaker. I’m pulling out of the parking lot at school now. Hang on.” She pressed the button to connect the call through the hands-free unit and pulled out onto Gilman Drive in La Jolla. The twenty-minute or so drive home would give them time to catch up. He had her attention now. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “So I wanted to know if you still talk to that guy. I don’t know if you’ve heard about that man who’s been making his way cross-country, leaving a trail of bodies behind him.”

  Katie had caught the news story and, so far, the count had been two women dead. It had been a couple of weeks since the first body was discovered. He was picking off random women, leaving them on the side of the road. The last victim was found in Kentucky. Marc must have wanted some sort of exclusive on the story, but Katie didn’t have that kind of pull. Not with Agent Nick Scarborough; not with anyone, really.

  “I’ve seen it on the news, but I imagine I know just about as much as you do.”

  “Do you think you could call Agent Scarborough? Ask him if he’ll talk to me?”

  Katie continued heading toward downtown. Not too much traffic, which suited her just fine. But it looked as though a storm might be heading in. Hard to tell in the dark, but when she pulled up to the stoplight and glanced through the moon roof, no stars were visible.

  “I don’t know, Marc. I really don’t think he’d talk to me about it, much less a reporter. I know we’ve got history, but hell, I don’t even know if he’s on the case.”

  “Could you find out? Listen, I just want to get out ahead of this deal. If this maniac’s coming our way, I want to be the first one to warn the public.”

  “You mean, cause a panic?”

  There was no reply.

  “I’m sorry, Marc. I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just you know how these guys work.”

  “Come on, Katie. It’s me. I don’t ask for much.”

  He was right. He rarely asked her for favors and, considering her line of work, he could have easily tried to use their friendship to his benefit. “Okay. I’ll try to get hold of Scarborough. I haven’t talked to him in a long time, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “That’s all I ask. Thanks a bunch, Katie.” Marc paused again. “Everything else all right?”

  Well, no it wasn’t, as a matter of fact. Of course, she couldn’t tell him that. “Everything’s fine here; thanks for asking. I’ll touch base with you after I co
ntact Nick. See what I can find out.”

  “Have a good night, my friend.”

  “You too, Marc.” Katie pressed the end call button on the wheel. She was glad to hear from him. It was nice to take her mind off of her own problems for a moment. That was one thing she loved about working cases, though. Her laser-sharp focus helped to keep most other problems at bay.

  Agent Nick Scarborough walked into the FBI Louisville field office after getting the call a few days ago from ASAC Miles Underhill that another victim had been found. The second one with the same markings, left in a similar fashion; on the side of a highway. Local authorities found the body outside of Elizabethtown, about forty-five miles south of Louisville. No guarantees it was the same unknown subject Nick was after from the murder in Virginia, but he guessed the chances were better than winning a grand on a lottery ticket.

  He watched the numbers as the elevator climbed, approaching the third floor of the expansive building. On arrival, he stepped into the marbled foyer, where a security guard waited behind an information desk. Nick showed the man his credentials. “I’m here to see ASAC Underhill.”

  The man pressed a button and the large glass doors to his right clicked open.

  “Thank you.”

  Inside was a handful of agents huddled near a board with notes written beside photos of both crime scenes. The first one in Virginia and now this one. “What do we know?” he asked as he approached the other agents.

  “Agent Scarborough, thanks for coming down.” Agent Vernon Mills handed Nick a picture from the crime scene in Elizabethtown.

  Almost immediately, Nick knew this must have been the work of his guy. “We need to get down there now.”

  “That’s what we thought. Your team here yet?” Mills asked.

  “They’re at the hotel, waiting for an update. I’ll have them meet us down there.”

  Just as Nick was reaching for his phone to inform his team, an incoming call rang through. At first glance, the name on the caller ID alarmed him. “I’ve got to take this,” he said to Mills.

  Nick moved to a quieter location. The small conference room down the hall would offer the privacy he needed. “Katie. My God, I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?” He was genuinely surprised and glad to be hearing from her.

  “Agent Scarborough. Hello. I’m fine, thank you. And you? I’m guessing you’ve got your hands full as usual.”

  Nick cast a glance into the hall. “You could say that. So what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

  “I know it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, but you remember Marc Aguilar from the San Diego news station?”

  “How could I forget?” Nick tugged at the waist of his pants. “What about him?”

  “He asked a favor of me and I, in return, am asking an undeserved favor from you.” Her muffled sigh sounded in his ear. “Look, I’ve got no business asking this of you, but do you have any information on that—what are they calling him? The Highway Hunter?”

  Nick lowered his head, groaning just a little, not at Katie’s inquiry, but at the media’s flippancy. He despised the fact that they often made celebrities out of these killers, giving them nicknames that only served to shine a spotlight on them, creating notoriety and fame. It sickened him. “Yes. It’s my case and I’m only telling you this because I consider you a friend. Why? What does the reporter want? You of all people know that I can’t go spouting information about an ongoing investigation.”

  “I know, and I appreciate you talking to me. I really do. It’s just that Marc wants to know if you think he’s coming our way. Out toward southern California?”

  “Katie, I haven’t got a single damn clue as to what this son of a bitch’s got going on in his mind.” Nick started to move toward the door of the conference room. It wouldn’t be long before someone came looking for him. He had a good forty-minute drive ahead of him and he needed to get a move on. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you out. I really wish I could. We don’t know much more than what the media’s already reporting, save for a few details I can’t disclose anyway.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Nick. It’s just that I owe Marc a lot and I thought I’d at least try. I appreciate your time and, hey, you know who to call if things start moving our way and you need any help at all.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Three agents were working their way toward him and he knew he had to wrap it up. “I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind yet?” Nick hadn’t talked to Katie in almost ten months. The last time he’d called her, just to check in and make sure she was adjusting well enough, all things considered. He’d jokingly reminded her of his offer, but she’d politely declined. He figured it would go down the same now, but he had to ask.

  Katie chuckled at the suggestion. “No. Not yet. But if things start to go south for you at the FBI, I’m sure I can find a place for you here at the good ol’ SDPD.”

  That brought much needed laughter for both of them. “I’ve gotta go, Katie. It was really great to hear from you and I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  “No problem at all, Nick. You take care of yourself and be safe.”

  Nick ended the call just as the agents arrived. “You ready to go?” he asked them.

  4

  KATIE’S OFFICE WAS tucked away at the back of the station, near the lab. She coordinated her efforts with the other evidence technicians and forensics and didn’t often leave her little hole unless it was to see Marshall. He was a senior detective now and had a big office, surrounded by windows just opposite the bull pen. A few of the junior team answered to him and Katie had grown pretty fond of the place and the people who worked there.

  Still, she took pause at Nick’s offhanded remark. The idea that she could be involved in such important cases was appealing. But she could never leave the family she’d come to know so well here in San Diego. And the thought of leaving Marshall; well, that just wasn’t going to happen.

  A painful cramp had taken hold and she cringed, placing her hand over her stomach. It was to be expected, according to the doctor, whom she was scheduled to see again later this afternoon. More blood would be drawn to determine if the treatment was working. Treatment. It didn’t seem like an appropriate word for what was happening inside her.

  The past few days had been uncomfortable and awkward with Marshall. It seemed he was unsure of how to respond to the situation and it had been unsettling for him as well as for her; neither wanting to acknowledge what was happening.

  The situation had breathed life into the past and created a force that began tearing away at the walls Katie had erected around the painful memories. The thoughts wanted free of their confinement; free to spread in her mind like a disease, killing off the good memories, replacing them with the blackness they carried.

  This latest blow, losing a pregnancy she hadn’t realized she’d wanted, had to be pushed behind those very walls. The problem would be in opening the door to force them through. It would prove difficult to keep the rest at bay. So for now, ideas swirled and anger raged at what was happening and she hadn’t the courage to lock them away.

  Katie approached Marshall’s office to find him still buried in the Markham investigation, although most of the files had been turned over. Captain Hearn was still on his case about coordinating with the community leaders regarding the home in which the girl had been found. Nearly a week had passed and it was still taped off, mainly because the second victim, the one who hadn’t survived, still had not yet been identified and forensics was searching for anything in the home they might have overlooked.

  “Hey, can I come in?” She leaned in his open doorway.

  “Yeah, of course.” Marshall looked up from his computer screen, his cheeks lifting at the sight of her. “What’s up? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She wasn’t, not really, but right now wasn’t the time to bring up the elephant in the room. Katie sat down in the orange chair opposite Marshall’
s desk. The department had “upgraded” its décor, although she felt little comfort in the mid-century modern revival piece of furniture. “I just got off the phone with Agent Scarborough.”

  This seemed to pique Marshall’s interest. She noticed his eyes widen for just a moment.

  “Really? Did he call you?”

  “No. I called him. Marc asked me for a favor. He wanted some information on that Highway Hunter guy they’re all looking for right now.”

  Katie made no secret of her friendship with Marc Aguilar. Marshall knew they often spoke. It seemed he’d finally relinquished any dubious feelings he might have felt in the past regarding the man. “So what did Marc want? An exclusive with the FBI?”

  “Well, yes, sort of. He wanted me to ask if Nick was on the case and, if he was, did he know if the killer was heading our way.” A slight cringe briefly crossed her face as a cramp took hold once again. She shifted in her seat and continued, “He’s just looking to get a scoop on it before anyone else does.”

  “So is this the deal? Does he know anything yet? Nick, I mean.”

  “If he knows, he’s not saying. It’d be nice if he could give us some kind of profile on the guy, though. Don’t we get to know what they know, just to give us something to look out for, should a victim turn up in our jurisdiction?” Katie noticed a half-grin playing on Marshall’s face. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s just that you sound an awful lot like me.” Marshall turned serious for a moment, placing his forearms over the top of his desk and leaning in. “You sure you don’t want to go for detective? Okay, so you’d have to put in some time as a patrolman, but you’ve got time in already, pretty much. I mean, CSI is great, but you could be amazing as a detective.”