by Gary Starta
“I have had visions about the discovery of such a crystal. In the 1860s, this very crystal helped save the only survivor of the Sand Creek Massacre. Its intentions were peaceful. The Cheyenne believed the Great Spirit utilized the quartz to secure the hope of a next generation of our people. It was used to guide a chief named Circling Hawk to Oklahoma where he could make a child. This crystal had no thirst for vengeance. It was never intended for violence.”
To Cheng’s dismay, Campbell rambled on about the supposed history of the crystal. She waited with bated breath for commercial so she could properly reprimand her guest.
“We only have so much air time allotted for this. If you want to reveal the conspiracy, I suggest you do it now.”
Campbell tried not to be judgmental about the woman. She had given him air time. But this woman was really wound tight. He believed Suzie would benefit from a brisk walk in the woods.
After commercial, Jake launched into the heart of the matter.
“I believe people in power will find a way to get their hands on this crystal. I have seen it in a vision. They will promote the discovery as beneficial for all. However, my vision shows they will horde the benefits of this gift. The majority will be made to serve without objection, because exposure to the crystal will take away free will. These leaders will promise peace because they know once they have us in their grips no one will be able to oppose them. They may disguise how they administer the gift. I really am not sure how they will do this—as it was unclear in my vision. Maybe you will be inoculated or maybe our water system will be tainted. Eventually, we will all be infected someway, somehow.”
Suzie interrupted. “Can you tell our viewers just who they are?”
“They have manipulated others to keep their identity secret. But they have been researching and working on a project to control our thoughts for decades. Obtaining the crystal will be like finding the final piece of a puzzle.”
“And what about this research, Mr. Campbell? Just what have they been planning?”
“They will utilize electromagnetic waves to control our brains, possibly transmitting them via towers. They will label it evolution. I label it extinction. I believe my visions give us a chance to change things. But once this faction begins its operation, I am afraid it will be too late to alter the course.”
Braxton gave Suzie the signal to wrap it up. She saw the worried look on his face.
At the break, he explained all the show’s sponsors were threatening to pull their ads if the present discussion continued.
“They won’t be complaining once they see the ratings. I’m telling you, Jim, this is pure gold. Now we need to book someone who can explain just what the hell these electromagnetic waves are.”
Jim’s face filled with paranoia.
“Trust me on this one,” Suzie laughed. “Ratings always beat content.”
Chapter 18
Agent Diggs’ mind rambled on the drive to Arkansas. Her thoughts flipped like passing television channels. She thought about Geoffrey’s murder, her meeting with Ross Fisher, the crystal, her impending first meeting with Agent Rivers, and the fear that the Arrowhead Killer would strike again before she could complete a profile. All this chatter in her head made just about as much sense as a scatting jazz singer. Caitlin was experiencing an information overload.
Had enough time elapsed for the agent to return to work? The answer was blowing in the wind, dancing and fluttering like fallen autumn leaves on the roadway. How could any amount of time ever be enough? Truth was, during times like these, Geoffrey McAllister had a way of calming Caitlin down. He had shared this gift with Caitlin long before the two ever shared their first kiss.
Diggs was now most definitely at a loss, far from any comfort zone. Her eyes glazed over a few times thinking about Geoffrey as she drove. He would have made her focus. She would prioritize everything she had to do like a laundry list—forcing herself not to think about anything else than what was immediately at hand. McAllister would have told her it was a matter of life and death. Any lapse of concentration might give the killer an upper hand. She wondered if McAllister had momentarily lost his focus. Did he give himself away to his killers? How did they know he was FBI? Diggs realized she had a personal incentive for closing this case as soon as possible. She would demand that Dudek allow her to investigate Geoffrey’s murder as soon as the Arrowhead Killer was apprehended. She would see that Dudek made good on his promise.
Diggs also realized she had to close this case successfully, to regain her confidence. Somewhere along the line, she had lost her rock solid belief in her job. Now she had to question herself about maintaining a career in the bureau. She shuddered to think she had reached a crossroads where she would actually consider taking a desk job. She could not picture herself as a professor, lecturing new recruits at Quantico. She could not conceive even one other alternative for that matter.
Caitlin felt anger rising up her throat. Her family was hell bent on encouraging her to leave the FBI, yet they couldn’t provide one suggestion regarding a career change. She could never be her sister, working a series of odd jobs. She worried about things, like bills. Money aside, women of Caitlin’s generation were expressly encouraged to pursue a career that defined them, to make them independent individuals. Diggs’ work as an FBI special agent did just that.
She never worried if independence made her incomplete, but that was before Geoffrey McAllister. He stirred up dormant feelings in Diggs. She let herself experience these emotions full throttle. Sharing life and work bonded them together like glue. She never prepared for a break in that intimacy.
Geoffrey’s passing created a great void. It emanated from the pit of her stomach as though it were almost tangible. Diggs painfully realized she did need someone else to count on beside herself. Why had McAllister come along to teach her this lesson, only to be taken away from her? Could she regain these feelings with someone else?
Caitlin felt a twinge of guilt. She had allowed herself to fantasize about Ross Fisher. She had not known him long enough to determine if they could share an emotional bond, but she had seen enough of him to realize there was physical chemistry. Diggs found it hard to deal with contradiction. She was experiencing a deep-seated sense of loss for McAllister, and at the same time, longing for a man she barely knew.
Diggs reached Van Buren, Arkansas, as twilight fell upon the small town, feeling like she was caught between two worlds.
Caitlin had encouraged witness Josh Mathews to speak to her at the Quix convenience store. Mathews had continued working there as a night manager, despite the nagging objections of his mother.
His voice was shaky on the phone. Mathews wanted the agent to interview him at his home, but Caitlin wanted to take full advantage of conducting the interview at the murder scene. The setting could jog his memory. Maybe some visual or auditory information could be retrieved from Mathews’ subconscious. That was if the kid was willing to tell all.
Diggs had read the local reports. The investigators suspected the worker was holding something back from them. But they did not press Mathews further on this suspicion since his DNA was not on the murder weapon. In addition, he could only mumble and stammer a few strings of words together at the crime scene. Caitlin wondered why they didn’t ask Mathews to see a department psychologist. Maybe the scared twenty-year-old just needed some counseling.
As Caitlin entered the store, she knew she had her work cut out for her. The young man’s posture spoke volumes. She began to profile the witness. She made note of the way he slumped over the checkout counter and cupped his head in his hands. Mathews feels like he is shouldering all the world’s problems. Ten to one says his upbringing has everything to do with it. I will need to make him feel good about himself in order to get any useful information.
Diggs prompted herself to cease her internal chatter and get down to business.
“Hi, I’m FBI Special Agent Diggs.” Caitlin smiled, extending one hand for a shake. She flashed her I
D badge with the other. Mathews ignored her hand. His eyes fixated upon the identification card. He sensed duplicity.
“Yes, ma’am. I was expecting you.” He removed his elbows from the counter.
Diggs noticed Mathews’ Razorback t-shirt. “I bet you’re a big football fan, Josh.”
“Uh, huh. They’re not having such a good season this year.”
Great, this kid loves to wallow.
Mathews took the opportunity to take in an eyeful of Diggs during a few seconds of silence. He sure wasn’t expecting such a good-looking agent to show up. He never believed the way TV and movies portrayed law enforcement. The actresses were always model-like. How could such pretty people do such a nasty job?
An elderly patron came to the counter, interrupting the agent and night manager. Their silent assessments of each other would have to take a backseat for a moment. As Mathews rang up the customer’s order, Caitlin excused herself to take a walk down the magazine aisle.
Mathews’ statement to local officials indicated the young man with the scraggly blond hair and green-striped shirt had spent quite a few minutes in this area before the attack. She bent down to peruse the rack. It was possible to look in the store’s theft-deterrent mirrors from a squatting position. The man could have clearly observed both the patron and employee from this vantage point without detection. So far, Mathews’ account made sense. Mathews had noted the kid in the green shirt had suddenly appeared out of nowhere shortly after Ed Hobson drew a knife. Diggs checked her watch and walked briskly toward the counter. She had reached it in seven seconds. His story checked out. Caitlin felt sure Mathews was an honest kid who just needed to work out a few personal issues.
The woman left the store, setting off the door chime. Quix was now devoid of customers. Caitlin hoped Mathews would feel more at ease to talk.
“Josh, it is very important you tell me everything you can remember about last Saturday evening. Your cooperation may very well prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”
Diggs had struck a nerve. Mathews recalled how close he was to getting knifed by the man clad in leather. In a sense, the actions of the kid in the green shirt had probably saved his life. Was it right to assist in his capture? Mathews felt conflicted. He fixed his eyes on the floor and told Diggs, “You know he saved me. I was too shocked to tell the police that, but that kid stood up to Hobson.”
“Josh, this man is also a suspect in the death of an Oklahoma man. Now that he has killed several times, it is likely he’ll be able to do it again without remorse. I can understand your confusion, but you look like a bright kid to me. You know it makes sense to help me out on this. You’ll probably end up saving his life.”
Diggs waited for her logic to work.
“I see your point. Okay, what else do you need to know?”
“Tell me exactly why you feel this kid saved you? Has anybody besides Hobson ever been a bully to you?”
Mathews’ eyes appeared to stare right through her. “My dad, sometimes. I think that’s one of the reasons why my mother kicked him out.”
Caitlin’s mind raced. Maybe Mathews identified with the suspect as a victim. If so, she hoped this trail would allow her to fathom just why the Arrowhead Killer murdered. She would like to think it was because he was abused. It would sure sound a lot better on a report than: our suspect feels compelled to murder because he is under the influence of a crystal.
The crystal led Diggs to her next question.
“Did you notice if this man wore any jewelry—perhaps, a necklace?”
Mathews shook his head.
Maybe the crystal was concealed underneath his shirt, Diggs theorized. Or perhaps there really is an accomplice, and that man wears the crystal.
“Would you have any reason to believe this man was working in tandem with someone else? We are having a hard time fathoming how a critically injured man was able to walk out of the store under his own power?”
“I can’t understand that myself.”
“Josh, did you help this man get away? Did you, or a friend, assist this man in any way because you felt he helped you?”
“No ma’am. I truly expected to find the man lying dead next to Hobson when I exited the backroom.”
Mathews had maintained eye contact with Diggs. She believed him. The evidence supported it. No blood was found on the employee’s clothes. Furthermore, there wasn’t any trail of blood or drag marks to indicate assistance was given.
Diggs asked Mathews if he could specifically recite some of the conversation between the two men.
“I just remember the kid taunted Hobson. And then Hobson paused before asking me to empty the register. He made some kind of reference to the kid’s accent. I think he said it sounded like the way an oil man talked.”
An oil man, maybe the killer’s from Texas?
“That’s great. That may help me find where he’s from. Is there anything else you can remember? Pretend I’m the man in the green shirt. I would be standing here, according to your description, and Hobson would be about a yard away from me to your left?”
Mathews nodded in agreement.
“You told police that the fugitive was on the ground when Hobson stabbed him. Can you tell me how he managed to rise to his feet and turn the weapon on his attacker after being injured so severely?”
Diggs knew she had him. There must be some detail missing from the original report. Caitlin didn’t care that Mathews’ DNA wasn’t on the knife. The story still had a big hole in it, and to her knowledge, Mathews was the only person there who could bring it to light. She would continue to push. The store suddenly seemed to feel more like an interrogation room. The overhead fluorescent lighting beamed down upon Mathews’ head. Silence followed. Mathews could only hope for a distraction. None came.
“They’ll all call me crazy. How can I tell you?” he whimpered.
“Tell me, Josh. I have very good reason to believe you. I think this man was under the influence of something we have yet to fully analyze.”
Mathews nodded and began. “It was like there were two of them. It was very brief though, and that’s why I cannot fully trust my memory. I thought I had imagined it because of the stress I was under.”
“Then can you just tell me what you think you saw?”
“Please ma’am. I beg you not to put this in a report. I still want to attend college—to become somebody.”
“I don’t know if I can promise you that, but unlike the local police, I won’t be around long enough to spread any gossip about you.” She suspected he was worried about news traveling fast in a small town.
“I want a future, Agent Diggs.”
Diggs could identify with the young man. All she could think about was a career at his age. She nodded for Mathews to begin speaking.
“One image of the man left the floor, while the other stayed. They were the same man. They both had the same shirt and the same blood stains. Anyway, this Hobson is totally wigged out by it—enough so that he loses his grip on the weapon. The guy in the green shirt, who appears to be floating, uses the moment to thrust the knife into Hobson’s chest. Then they both fall to the floor and blood is just pouring out everywhere.” Josh rubs his hand against his forehead. Caitlin interprets this as a sign of sincerity.
“And then what happened? Did you see this man in the green shirt become one again?”
“No…I mean I can’t tell because that’s when I ran to phone for help.”
“And at this point, did you notice anything else about Hobson?”
Diggs wanted to know if Mathews had noticed a brand mark. However, she knew volunteering this information might influence his judgment. Witnesses could sometimes reach a breaking point after recanting such a horrible experience. They sometimes told the police anything and everything just to end the questioning.
Mathews’ answer was no. She was inclined to believe her witness was credible.
She handed him a card.
“Josh, I suggest you contact a psycholog
ist at this number. Your parents don’t have to know about this, it’s free therapy. I would like you to work this out with a professional therapist. And then I’d like you to do one more thing for me.”
“What’s that?” Mathews asked befuddled.
“I want you to go ahead and get that education you want.” She smiled and shot him a wink.
Once Diggs was back in her car, she quickly put two and two together. The internal chatter began. The kid is probably from Texas. It makes sense. That’s why the first killing occurred just over the border. He’s probably a troubled teen, maybe a runaway. Maybe he had another reason to run. Didn’t the area experience a horrific flood a few weeks back?
By the time she pulled onto the highway, Diggs deduced the killer might know some of the other flood victims. News reports indicated the homeless were evacuated to the Houston Astrodome. That’s where Diggs would start. She would return to Tulsa and board the first plane for Texas.
Chapter 19
The caller was in total agreement with the AM radio talk show host.
“Suzie Cheng’s interview with Jake Campbell was immoral, unethical, and unprofessional,” raved Jim the stockbroker. Jim attempted to keep his voice authoritative, using a low, steady tone, but he was failing. Since money was involved, the caller could not disguise the panic he felt. Every now and then his voice squeaked like a cornered rodent.
Jim called to make a stand. He did not want his fellow Americans to lose what little confidence they had left concerning their elected leaders. It was bad for business. And when Americans felt unsure about leadership, stock prices fell on Wall Street.
Will Dexter, host of Conservative Minds, was concerned about money too. For a price, Will kept the news sanitized for his friends in Washington. Therefore, Dexter believed it would be in his best interests to keep every politician’s name clean for the time being.
Will was glad a person like Jim called. He let the stockbroker ramble until the next commercial break.
“I can’t believe she allowed this self-proclaimed psychic to accuse the American government of duplicity in a scheme that sounds so much like a fairytale.”
