by Robin Mahle
Katie put on a thin smile. “I’m fine. Besides, wasn’t it you who said I’d be better suited as a detective? Well, I may get the chance to prove my skills.”
The plane rolled to a stop and Nick immediately turned on his phone. He began scrolling through his emails when the flight attendants finally opened the doors. The woman sitting next to him nudged his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind opening the overhead bin and taking down my bag for me?”
Nick took notice of the bump in her belly and figured he should help her out. “Of course.” He rose to retrieve her bag along with his and placed it in the middle seat.
The other passengers began filing out of the aircraft, and as Nick made his way through the concourse, his felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He swiped the screen and began to read the text from Katie. “I know the guy who called it in. Come see me as soon as you can.”
Protocol had to be followed and that meant a briefing with the Chief of Police first. She wasn’t likely to be happy about his arrival. The last thing any local law enforcement wanted was a serial killer in their city. It was only a matter of time before the connection, or possible connection was leaked to the media as well, adding further fuel to the fire.
Nick still had his doubts. This one just didn’t follow the killer’s MO. Agent Myers, who was due in on the next flight with Jameson, had begun to put together a fairly extensive profile of the killer now that they had three bodies to deal with. She and Jameson were all he had at the moment and they were both desperately trying to wrap things up in Colorado. The video from the gas station in Richmond hadn’t led anywhere, not yet. All of this was happening too fast and they couldn’t keep up with the killer.
Nick needed Myers’ expertise to determine if the San Diego victim was likely the result of the same person thought to have taken the other three lives. It was possible, of course, that the two crimes could be committed inside such a short period of time, but from what Nick knew of the unsub so far, it was that he preferred to take his time with his victims. The precision with which the incisions were made, the careful placement of the body and the flowers. It was as if he’d been preparing the victims for a formal viewing, however gruesome the display.
Now he would have to deal with this one in San Diego. It seemed the likelihood of a copycat killer was becoming increasingly probable. It would have to be someone who had a contact on the inside, though, if that was the case. No one knew about the flowers or the v-shaped carvings. No one outside law enforcement.
The customer service rep behind the rental car counter handed Nick the key to his mid-sized sedan. “I hope this will be all right for you.”
Nick grabbed the key. “It’ll be fine, thank you.” His was a little disappointed, though. It was the same mid-sized car most of the agents drove now and he was kind of hoping for something a little sportier.
He reached the parking lot and pressed the remote to unlock the door, tossing his bag in the back seat. It was a short drive to the station. Nick wondered what would await him there. The victim would have already been transferred from the scene and so he would find himself at yet another medical examiner’s office. The idea of working on something like white collar crimes sounded very appealing to him at this particular moment.
Nick pulled into the parking garage of the station, leaving his bag inside. He’d have to check in at the hotel later, having no idea how long he’d be in San Diego. At this rate, he expected another body to pop up at any time.
It seemed word had already reached the media as Nick spotted a handful of reporters hovering in the lobby. They twirled their visitor badges while on the phone, looking as though they had very important information to share.
He approached the front desk. “I’m here to see Chief Wyatt. Special Agent Nick Scarborough.” Nick showed the woman his badge. It appeared she had been expecting him.
“I’ll let her know you’re here. Please have a seat.”
Nick had no intention of going near the reporters and instead meandered a few feet away, waiting to be called up.
It took several more minutes before the chief was ready to see him. Nick was escorted through the building and into Chief Wyatt’s office.
She stood behind an oversized dark walnut desk, her back turned, peering through the window. Chief Maureen Wyatt had been in the job for two years. She presided over nearly three thousand staff, an annual budget of almost half a billion dollars and all while maintaining a political neutrality, which proved challenging on a daily basis. Today, she would be forced to concede control, and when Nick walked into the room, it was apparent that she was not happy about it.
“Agent Scarborough?” She moved from behind her desk, hand extended, and greeted the agent. “I’m Maureen Wyatt. Very nice to meet you.”
Nick returned the greeting. “Chief Wyatt, the pleasure’s mine.” He took a seat at her suggestion.
“I’m sorry to be here under such unpleasant circumstances, chief. I trust you’re already well aware of the situation?”
Wyatt pulled her chair out and sat down. “Unfortunately, yes. I’ve been briefed by my assistant chief and captain. Have you been to the scene yet?”
“No, ma’am, I haven’t. I’m hoping to get out there as soon as possible, though.”
“Of course. If it turns out that you believe this is the work of your suspect, I’d still like to offer any assistance you need for as long as you’re here. I have to tell you, though, I hope it isn’t. I’ve got a lobby full of reporters looking for a sensational headline and, once that happens, these things tend to take on a life of their own.”
“I’ll know more after I get out there. Can I see the detective working the case? I’d like to get started right away.”
“Understood. Detective Gibbons is waiting for you. I’ll have someone take you to him.”
Nick stood up and turned toward the door.
“Agent Scarborough?”
“Yes?” Nick turned on his heel.
“My officers are extraordinary men and women who put their lives on the line every day. They do what they can and by the book as much as they can. If this turns out to be the work of your guy, don’t yank the rug out from under them. They deserve every consideration and you’ll get it in return tenfold.”
Nick expected something of this nature to be said. This was usually where the local guys felt the need to defend their cases and how they’d been handled. “Chief Wyatt, I have no intentions of trying to make your people look bad. I know exactly what they do because I’m in the trenches with them. Thank you for your time, ma’am.” He walked through the door, gently pulling it closed behind him.
8
THE AFTERNOON SUN was disappearing behind the white clouds as Nick stepped off the front porch of Lindsay Brown’s home. Lack of sleep and general mental exhaustion made his eyes overly sensitive, even in the muted light, and so he placed his sunglasses on his face.
“So what do you think?” Detective Gibbons asked.
“Until we see the coroner, I won’t know what exactly we’re dealing with here. But I can tell you that it appears as though this woman likely knew her killer. The broken bedroom window? Unless you’re familiar with the layout of a house, how would you know to pick that window? Not to mention that it seems an odd choice to break in through when most people would choose to enter through a room in which they believed no one was present. Ms. Brown would have heard the window break and probably would have had time to get out through the front door by the time the person climbed over the frame and entered her room.”
“I gotta agree with you on that point. The man who found her is still down at the station.” Gibbons noticed the time on his watch. “At least, he will be for a little while longer. The son of a bitch had a restraining order against him from this woman. It just doesn’t make sense that he’d be the one to find her and call it in.”
Nick struggled to come to terms with the idea that Edward Shalot could be the kil
ler. “We need to see the body; talk to the examiner. If the man you have did it, he would have to have known some very specific details about my investigation.”
“We’ve got an evidence technician who knows him. She says he was in a class with her, but she had never said more than a few words to him.”
“I’m aware. Katie Reid and I go way back. I’d like to have a word with her when we get back to the station.”
“Okay. Hop in.” Detective Gibbons unlocked his car.
Agent Scarborough and Gibbons arrived at the County Medical Examiner’s office, where Lindsay Brown’s body had been transported.
Gibbons approached the front desk. “Detective Gibbons and Agent Scarborough here to see Dr. Napier.”
The receptionist buzzed the office of the ME, Dr. Sheila Napier. “I have an Agent Scarborough and Detective Gibbons here to see you.” A short pause, and then she resumed. “Thank you. I’ll send them right over.” She placed the phone down. “Go to the end of the hall and take the elevator down to lower level one. You’ll find Dr. Napier in the room labeled ‘Private: Staff Only.’ She’s expecting you.”
A latch released and Gibbons pushed the door open. Nick followed closely behind, walking inside the large and sterile room. He’d seen far too many of these places already, especially in more recent days.
Along the back wall was what appeared to be a cooler; a steel frame, housing six smaller doors where Nick figured they kept the bodies. The highly polished tiled floor bounced the overhead fluorescent lighting around the room and off of the stainless steel tables. He counted ten separate stations, each with its own storage, sink, and table.
“Dr. Napier, this is Special Agent Nick Scarborough with the FBI,” Gibbons said.
“You’ll excuse me if I don’t shake your hand, Agent Scarborough. We’ve already begun our external examination.” The doctor continued taking photographs of Lindsay Brown’s face. Her assistant pulled down the sheet that covered the body to capture additional photos. “Good to see you again, detective.”
Dr. Napier continued on. “I don’t normally see the FBI down here. Although Detective Gibbons has informed me that there is reason to suspect this victim may be linked to a series of deaths?” She handed her assistant the camera and began removing the plastic bags that had been tied around Lindsay’s hands to preserve evidence.
“That’s what we’re here to determine. Would it be possible to see the incision on the victim’s chest?”
Dr. Napier looked up at Nick, appearing annoyed at the request. She was meticulous and took steps in their necessary order, but reluctantly obliged his request. “Well, as you can see,” the doctor aimed her gloved pinky at the “Y” incision that examiners use as a dissection technique, “this individual began the incision. However, rather than the traditional ‘Y,’ this person carved out a ‘V,’ ending at the navel.” Her finger gently grazed the skin along the wound for emphasis. “It’s a haphazard attempt at precision. Clearly, whoever did this did not use a medical instrument or, if he or she did, the instrument was blunted. My guess right now would be something along the lines of a pocket knife. And, the instrument did not penetrate the tissue completely; it merely reached the superficial fascia. No muscle or bone has been breached. This was not how the victim died and, until I get to the internal exam, I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you for now.”
“How soon will you have results back?” Gibbons asked.
“This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. However, you’ll have to wait for labs. I’ll be scraping for DNA under the nails and such, but getting the results back will take some time.”
“I think I’ve seen enough for now, Dr. Napier. Thank you, and I’m sure Detective Gibbons will be waiting for your call.”
The doctor returned to her work, but raised her head again as the men were leaving. “Agent Scarborough, from what you’ve seen here, do you believe it is the work of your Highway Hunter?”
“If it isn’t, it’s a damn good imitation. Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Napier.”
Gibbons pulled his car around the corner of the police station. Night had already settled in and still several media personnel skulked about as if waiting for their prey. “I got a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.”
Scarborough peered through the passenger window as they rolled on. “I’m used to it.” He turned to Gibbons. “You still got Shalot in custody?”
“I spoke to my partner earlier and he confirmed Shalot will be staying overnight, but if we can’t bring charges by end of day tomorrow, he’ll be released.” Gibbons turned the wheel, driving into the first floor of the parking garage.
“I’d like to talk to Reid, if possible. I’m having trouble thinking Shalot’s our guy. You remember what Dr. Napier said about the depth of the cut?”
“Yeah.”
“The other victims’ were much worse. They’d been carved much deeper, even penetrating some of the organs. And, the others had been cleaned up. Minimal blood had been found at the scenes.” Nick paused for a moment, considering the possibility. “Someone leaked information. There’s just no other answer that makes any kind of sense. They leaked it and now we’ve got someone out there trying to get in the spotlight. I don’t know if Katie can give us any more insight into Shalot than she already has, but I’d still like to speak with her.”
“I’m sure Detective Avery will want to be in on that conversation. He doesn’t let her out of his sight much. I don’t think he’s gotten over what happened to her last year.” Gibbons stepped out of the car and glanced over the rooftop as Scarborough emerged. “But then, you know all about that, don’t you?”
Katie caught sight of Marshall walking down the corridor toward her cubicle. She’d spent most of the day entering a portion of the evidence collected on scene from the Brown investigation into the database for the lab. She thought his approach meant that Scarborough was here and ready to talk. It would be a welcome break from her present task.
“Hey. Scarborough and Gibbons just came in. You wanna come over to my office so you can talk with him?”
She hadn’t seen him in a long time and only recently had heard his voice again. It brought back a lot of memories; ones she wasn’t prepared to recall. There were others, however, that outweighed those and she called on them now to help settle her nerves. Nick had seen her through a great deal and that thought was what propelled her from the chair, allowing her to follow Marshall back to his office.
The two passed by the captain’s office, where the FBI agent and Detective Gibbons were presumably briefing Hearn. Scarborough noticed Katie and tipped his head in acknowledgment. Katie picked up on his subtle smile and returned it in kind. He’d been reluctant, she recalled, during the Hendrickson investigation, but had come to see Katie for who she really was: an intelligent and intuitive woman who had proven herself to be more than useful.
On arrival at Marshall’s office, he closed the door after Katie stepped inside. “They’ll be finished soon, I’m guessing. Has Scarborough contacted you today?”
“No. I sent him a text after you and I talked about Shalot. I let him know that I knew the guy, but he didn’t respond.” Katie dropped into the seat and pushed her fingers through her hair.
“You look tired,” Marshall said as he took a seat behind his desk. “You sure you’re feeling all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I promise.” Her eyes crinkled as the corners of her mouth upturned slightly. “I’m just having a hard time processing this whole Shalot thing. Do you think he killed that girl?”
“I don’t know, Kate. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’d filed a restraining order against him, then he just shows up and finds her dead?” The familiar grunt that had become his trademark of frustration sounded. “Just doesn’t make sense, but I suppose we’ll know more after Scarborough and Gibbons arrive. I’m sure Scarborough’s team is already knee-deep in Shalot’s background.”
The men appeared outside the glass door and Scar
borough waved to make their presence known.
“Nick.” Katie rose from her chair and pulled the door open, greeting the man with a temperate hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
“It’s great to see you too, Katie. You cut your hair?” Scarborough replied.
“I guess I needed a change.” She took a section of her brunette locks, which were now shoulder length, and pulled it out to emphasize her new look.
“It suits you very well.” Nick turned his attention to Marshall. “Detective Avery. How the hell are you, man?” He extended a greeting. “Last time I saw you, you were just getting out of the hospital.”
Marshall took hold of the agent’s hand and patted his shoulder with the other. “Good to see you, man.” He began to smooth down his shirt. “Yeah. Let’s just say I’m doing a hell of a lot better now. Take a seat, please.” He looked to Gibbons. “I’ll go grab another chair.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I’ll just park it over here.”
“So, Katie, what do you know about Edward Shalot?” Nick began.
“Not much, I’m afraid. I told Detective Gibbons that I have a class with him, but that’s about it really.”
“So you’ve gone back to school?” Nick asked.
“I’m getting my graduate degree in Criminal Justice. I’ve just got a few more months left.”
“Well, congratulations. I’m glad to hear it.” Nick returned to the more pressing situation. “Have you talked with this guy much? Have you had any other contact with him, apart from in class?”
“No. Not really. He’s approached me maybe two or three times about studying after class, grabbing a coffee, but that’s it. I gotta tell you, though, he doesn’t strike me as a killer.”
“No. He doesn’t,” Gibbons interrupted. “Brown’s roommate talked to my partner earlier today. Said Shalot threatened Brown the other night at his apartment. Brown wasn’t going to do anything about it, except the roommate convinced her to file a restraining order against him. She said she had a bad feeling about the guy. We’re still digging into his background, but haven’t turned up anything that would raise any red flags. No priors, hardly even a speeding ticket.”
