by Robin Mahle
Meanwhile, Nick was still coordinating with Kentucky, Colorado, and Virginia. The suspect in the surveillance video from Kentucky still hadn’t been identified, only knowing for sure that he was male and about five feet five inches, slight build. What they knew for sure was that they were dealing with at least two distinct killers. Virginia had turned up evidence suggesting that their suspect was a male, medium to large build, based on the angles of the wounds on the victim and the depth of the incision in her chest.
Agent Myers further deduced, based on labs and forensics, that they were looking for Caucasian men in their mid to late twenties, also taking into consideration that the murders happened in rural, predominately white locations. With the exception of Lindsay Brown. She was still the odd one out.
16
AS IT TURNED out, Marc had been working on his own to identify the person who had anonymously shared so much about Edward Shalot. Katie remained awake at this early hour of the morning, a returned call having finally come from him late last night. She now sat at her computer, the lone glow casting unkind shadows on her face. Marshall would be up soon. She would tell him what she had discovered, what Marc had emailed to her, and they would need to inform Agent Scarborough.
Exhaustion only enhanced the sickening feeling that turned her stomach. It seemed she might have been wrong about Edward Shalot.
The sound of the bedroom door caught her attention, but Katie remained seated. She heard footfalls on the floor approaching from down the hall and cast her eyes away from the laptop, waiting for them to adjust to the dim, dusky light that was filtering through their apartment. Marshall stood in the doorway.
“Have you been up all night?” he asked.
“Marc sent me something. Something he got from his source,” she replied.
Marshall cautiously approached, anticipating the bomb she was about to drop. “This same source who gave him the blog posts and surveillance photos? And did Marc happen to say who this person was?” He lowered himself carefully into the chair opposite the desk.
“You remember me telling you about Myers’ profile of the suspects? How she believed it may have something to do with that religion called Discordianism?” Katie didn’t wait for a reply.
“Anyway. I don’t know how far she’s gotten with that theory. I’m guessing she’s still pursuing the idea, considering the ritualistic style of the murders, but Marc sent me this link to a website.” She pressed a button on her laptop and turned the screen around so Marshall could see.
He began reading it.
As he read, Katie continued, “These people? They believe in the Chaos theory and the Law of Five. And a part of their beliefs is that in order to be close to their ‘Lady of Discord,’ they engage in what can only be described as orgies. The more the merrier kind of thing. The indiscriminate selection of multiple partners allows chaos to flourish.”
“Christ.” Marshall rubbed his face. “I haven’t even had my morning coffee yet.”
“Sorry.” She continued. “From what I can tell, this religion, this Discordianism, doesn’t seem to have any rules. Interpretation is left up to its followers. This particular faction seems to share the same sexual inclinations, the same interpretation of the religion.”
“A little like our Edward Shalot,” Marshall replied. “But that doesn’t explain the murders. Unless.” He paused for a moment. “Unless they needed to explore their theory of Chaos in more depth, to discover greater pleasures in the disorder. Maybe a few of these guys decided to take it a step further, but I thought you didn’t believe Shalot killed Lindsay Brown, despite the evidence?”
Katie pressed her lips into a thin smile. “I don’t. I think someone wants us to believe he did. Retribution, maybe. I don’t know for what. But I’m convinced he’s a part of this group. He sure as hell fits the bill. We need to let Agent Scarborough in on this. I have a feeling Agent Myers will be interested in our discovery.”
“I think he’ll also be interested in the fact that Marc Aguilar seems to be getting an awful lot of information from a source he claims is anonymous. Kate, you gotta get Marc to find out who this source is. This person seems to be the key to everything. If we can set up a meeting between the two, I doubt Scarborough would have any qualms about jumping in and arresting whoever it is Marc is talking to. We can’t let it continue. Lives are at stake here.”
The speaker phone rang through to the other line as Marshall, Katie, and Detective Gibbons waited to speak with Agent Scarborough. Gibbons’ people were still digging into Shaun Hudson, but so far, had nothing of any real significance.
They waited for the agent to pick up.
“Scarborough,” he answered.
“This is Detective Gibbons. I’m here with Detective Avery and Katie Reid. Do you have a minute?”
“I do. Hello, Detective Avery, Katie.”
Marshall nodded to Katie. “This is your find. Go ahead.”
After the lengthy explanation into how she received the information from Marc, the website, and about the connection of the cultish religion to what they already knew of Edward Shalot, Scarborough remained silent.
“And when you talked with Shaun Hudson yesterday, he made mention of Shalot’s interest in these sex parties?” Scarborough asked.
“He did. With little prompting, as a matter of fact. It was as if Hudson wanted to cast a dark cloud over Shalot. Reinforce the fact that he wanted us to believe Shaun had been used by him to get my files, and that Edward wasn’t a quote, unquote, normal guy,” Katie replied.
Marshall jumped in. “Gibbons and I were able to speak with a few of the women who had the unfortunate run-ins with Shalot. He asked them to join him in these parties as well. They expressed that he became angry when they turned him down, got physical with them too. They were too afraid to go to the authorities, so some took to the internet. With what we know now, I gotta think Shalot was recruiting for his little group of believers.” Marshall looked to Gibbons for confirmation.
“I would have to agree,” Gibbons began. “This could very well be the case.”
“We’ve got Shalot in custody; we’ve got a DNA match. And from what I’m hearing, you all think he’s a part of this cult that Myers initially based her theories on, and because of this information Katie received from Aguilar. So we are in agreement that he did, in fact, kill Brown?” Scarborough asked.
“I know that I’m probably the only one not convinced of Shalot’s guilt as it relates to Brown. It just seems too convenient, too simple. I do, however, believe Shaun was lying about his involvement with Shalot, Agent Scarborough. He may be a part of this group as well,” Katie said. “And I think we ought to press Marc Aguilar about this source. Whoever it is seems to be feeding him a lot of information; information that appears intent on convicting Shalot.” This was the first time she would express the idea, but it had only just occurred to her. “We should consider the possibility that Hudson could very well be Marc’s source. He’s someone who knows a great deal about Shalot and about his extracurricular activities. And if he’s involved in the same sort of thing, he may be looking for a way out. That would certainly explain why he might be the one sending Marc these details.”
Scarborough’s heavy sigh was amplified through the speaker. “We’re still working on the Phoenix victim, but I think this is worth hopping on a plane and sifting through this information together. I’ll bring the team with me. I know Myers’ already handed off some of her information to our guys in the BSU who specialize in cult activities. She might have more insight. It’s what, nine a.m. now? I’ll see if we can get on the next flight out of here. If so, it should put us back in San Diego by about eleven or twelve. We’ll plan on seeing you all then.” Scarborough ended the call.
The room fell quiet as the three appeared to be considering options for this new approach.
“First thing we need to do is get Marc down here. When I talked to him last night, before he emailed me the link, he mentioned that he’d been trying to arr
ange a meeting with his contact. If he can do that, we can put a wire on him or something. I don’t know, but this source is the key,” Katie said.
“If we get a name, we won’t need to wire Aguilar. We’ll arrest the son of a bitch for obstructing an investigation and if it turns out he’s a part of this group, he’ll go down for conspiracy to commit murder too,” Gibbons replied.
“If Hudson is the source and he’s knee-deep in this cult and looking for a way out, I don’t get why he wouldn’t just come to us anyway as soon as he discovered that Edward killed Lindsay Brown. We could have offered protection,” Katie said.
“No point in speculating right now. Let’s be sure we know who this source is first. Then we can deal with the aftermath,” Gibbons started. “Avery, I know you’re working on another investigation. Katie and I can handle Aguilar and we’ll touch base when the feds get here.”
Marc agreed to meet with them at the same restaurant Katie had met him the other day. During her conversation with him, she thought he had grown nervous about the fact he hadn’t gone to the police with the information his source had been feeding him. It turned out that it had been a bad call.
“I see him over there.” Katie led the way to the table where Marc sat alone. “Marc. Thank you for meeting with us. This is Detective Dave Gibbons. He’s working on the Brown investigation along with the FBI.”
“Pleasure.” Gibbons shook his hand. “Katie tells me you’ve been trying to get your source to reveal his identity. Any luck with that yet?” He wasted no time, as was his style. There was too much at stake and time was ticking away until the next victim.
“As I mentioned to Katie last night, he finds a way to contact me, not the other way around. He’s never contacted me via email, so I have no way of tracking him down through an IP address. The guy calls the main line and gets transferred to my extension. If I don’t answer, he doesn’t leave a message. If I do answer, his words are brief, the call lasting probably less than a minute. I get my instructions on where to pick up whatever he’s got for me and that’s it.” Marc looked to Katie.
She picked up on the fact that his look was intended to confirm she was still an ally. The idea that he was keeping this all to himself simply for the sake of a story went against everything she knew about him. “At the start of all this, Marc wasn’t sure this source was genuine.”
“That’s right.” Marc appeared reassured. “I get this call telling me that this Highway Hunter is coming to San Diego. I mean, do you have any idea how many crank calls we get at the station? Most of these people are just looking for their fifteen minutes. And that’s when I first asked Katie to check in with her friend at the FBI.”
Detective Gibbons seemed to consider Marc’s words. “Look, I get that you were being cautious and we appreciate the fact that you went to Katie when you started getting this information and not straight to your producer. But that doesn’t change the fact now that we have to find out who this person is.”
“Katie’s a good friend and the last thing I would want is to put her in danger.” Marc raised a hand to get the attention of the waiter, then continued. “After I looked at that website this guy directed me to, I started to get really nervous. I know Edward Shalot’s in custody, but I’m starting to believe that this person is involved in something very dangerous. Now, I don’t know the details of your investigation, but I suspect the reason you’re here is that you believe my contact is connected to the Highway Hunter killings and maybe Lindsay Brown was one of his victims.”
“Marc, whoever he is, we’re convinced, has close personal knowledge of Shalot and the people in his circle. I can’t say much more than that right now. We need your help,” Katie replied.
“Okay. So what do I have to do?”
“I’ll need to get in touch with your station owners, let them know we need to trace the incoming calls, at least the ones that go to you. It’s a start,” Gibbons replied. “Have you noticed any patterns to his calls? Time of day?”
“Mostly later in the day. Last he made contact was yesterday afternoon.”
“Let me make some calls and see if I can get a hold of the phone records too. I’ll need you to give me a list of the date and times he’s reached out to you. I can cross reference that information with the phone numbers. Who knows? He may be calling you from his own cell phone.” Gibbons excused himself from the table.
“I’m sorry, Katie. This seems to have gotten out of hand very quickly. But you know I wouldn’t intentionally put you in any danger. I didn’t know Shalot was stalking you.”
“It’s not your fault, Marc. You came to me when you thought we had a situation. Shalot’s still in holding with the FBI. He doesn’t pose a danger to me now. To be honest, I’m more concerned about your source. I sure as hell don’t want another victim to turn up before we find out who he is.”
“No, neither do I. You don’t mind?” Marc pointed to the French fries that the waitress had just set down. “I’m starving.”
“Go right ahead.”
Detective Gibbons returned to find Katie picking away at her meal while Marc had nearly finished his. “I’ve got my guys working on it now.” He sat back down next to Katie. “Should have something by the end of the day. In the meantime, Marc, if you hear from him, call me right away. You understand?”
The two had returned to the police station, but Scarborough’s team hadn’t yet arrived. She continued to research Hudson’s background while Gibbons hustled to get the phone records from Channel 9 News.
Katie was all but convinced that he was the source. She’d discovered that more than a few of Shaun Hudson’s “friends” on social media had interesting quotes and symbols that appeared to relate to the concept of the Law of Five and Discordianism. What proved even more interesting and helped to solidify the idea that Shalot was also a part of this group was the fact that some of these people were also connected to him. “Friends of friends,” as it were.
But in none of this information did she find any suggestion of violence relating to these concepts or ideas. So where would the idea of killing, leaving symbols as proof that the believers of Chaos had done such horrific acts, have propagated in the minds of an unknown number of its followers? The answer must lie in the interpretation of those believers themselves.
If Agent Myers was correct and, right now, Katie had no reason to believe otherwise, what led to this violent interpretation? And what about Lindsay Brown? So far, no one had found anything that would suggest she was involved in this semi-faith faction.
The FBI had already pulled Brown’s phone records. There were no threatening text messages, no voicemails from Shalot. Nothing that would indicate retribution on his part for her having filed the restraining order.
The sight of Marshall approaching in the distance caught Katie’s eye. She noticed the time and hadn’t realized so much had passed.
“Hey.” He leaned against the edge of her desk, just inside the small cubicle. “You find anything interesting?”
Interesting would have been an understatement in this particular instance.
“You could say that,” Katie replied. “What’s going on with the Guzman case? Any closer to finding the husband?” She immediately regretted asking the question.
Marshall’s face quickly masked in disappointment. “Turned over to Homicide. Mr. Guzman was found in the trunk of a car in Tijuana. Mexican authorities are working with the department. My part is finished.”
“What happened to him?” Katie asked.
“Looks like a business deal gone bad. According to the wife, they’d been struggling financially for the past few years. Her husband had become increasingly private about his business dealings. Guess one of them didn’t pan out.”
“I’m sorry, Marshall.” Katie rested her hand on top of his.
“Just another day in paradise.” He shifted uncomfortably. “What have you found out about Hudson and his friends?”
She took the hint and offered no further words on t
he topic. Instead, she watched him compartmentalize the case, as he did with all of them, tucking them away neatly in his mind.
It was a skill she had begun to acquire recently, at least where her personal life was concerned. Filing away the events of the past. The loss of Sam, witnessing the death of Chief Wilson, and pushing back the most recent of news, the loss of her unborn child and perhaps the prospect of motherhood itself.
“From what I’ve been able to find online, most of his Facebook friends are college classmates or high school buddies. However, there are a handful that seem to have some commonality. Of those friends, most have liked pages relating to the religion or have liked events or gatherings of the faithful. I’ve written down the names of the people we should get background checks on. But, Scarborough may prefer his team handle that. He’s got plenty of experts in that area and, by the sounds of it, they may already be looking into this information.”
“I’m certainly no expert in cults and they’ve got the resources to dig a hell of a lot deeper than we do.” Marshall retrieved the cell phone from his leather jacket. “He should be here soon.”
Agent Myers was the first to speak as the team sat around the conference table. On the wall-mounted monitor was an image of several people at a rally or gathering of some sort that Katie had discovered on a profile page of one of Hudson’s friends. They were all facing a man standing on a podium. Behind him was a graphic chart. Symbols inside of symbols, pentagons and inside the pentagons were various other symbols relating to the religion. Once such pentagon contained the words “Law of Five.”
“We need to know who this man is here.” Myers moved the pointer to the man speaking at the podium. “I sent this to the BRIU, or Behavioral Research and Instruction Unit, for those of you not familiar with the many acronyms we at the FBI employ. They analyze these types of cults and discovered many websites that were tied to this particular group. From there, they determined that that this was held in San Francisco last year. It’s too difficult to tell in this photograph if any of the audience members are Shalot or Hudson.”
