by Casey Hill
Chris nodded.
‘It was taken from my apartment. I think it’s supposed to be some kind of message.’
‘What kind of message? I saw the photo – it looked like a standard family shot.’
‘I wish I knew.’ The appearance of such a personal item had shaken her badly. Besides breaking into her apartment and invading her home, what was the killer playing at with that photo?
‘It’s a bit of a mindblower, Reilly,’ Chris admitted. He gave a deep sigh. ‘This is serious shit. Someone broke into your apartment, stole your ID, could have fucking killed you and now they’re leaving you cryptic messages?’
‘I know.’
‘Fancy a cup of tea, love?’
They both looked around in surprise at the tea lady making her rounds. She looked over at Reilly, enquiringly.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
She was warm and motherly in her apron, clearly determined that everyone should have the comfort of a warm cup of tea at least three times a day. But unlike the nurse, her scent was unrecognizable to Reilly. Some kind of floral concoction, and not a fragrance, but perhaps a body lotion or face cream. ‘And what about your husband?’ she asked, turning to Chris. ‘How about you, love?’
‘I’m not – I mean, I’m …’ Chris looked back at Reilly and saw her trying hard not to laugh. ‘A cup of tea would be lovely, thanks,’ he finally replied.
They sat in silence while she poured his tea, only to dissolve in a fit of laughter when the woman finally moved on to the next patient.
‘Christ, do I look that settled?’ he protested.
‘If only she knew,’ Reilly added, wryly.
He sipped at his tea. ‘Still, a cup of brew is fairly welcome right now.’
‘Enjoy it,’ said Reilly. ‘You know, in the States they don’t have little old ladies coming round offering you free cups of tea when you’re in hospital.’
‘Yeah, I’ve heard they charge you for everything over there – even aspirin.’
Reilly slipped back into silence. She knew the small talk was simply their way of delaying the disturbing reality that still loomed large over them. Chris sipped his tea and waited for her to tell him more about the photo album.
She sat up and pulled the covers up around her. ‘The picture … it’s of me and my dad and my baby sister, Jess. My mom left when we were young – Jess was only a toddler – so I pretty much raised her.’
‘What’s the age gap?’
‘Five years.’
‘That’s pretty young to become a surrogate mum.’
‘Dad was always at work, there was no one else.’
He nodded. ‘Still, it must have been tough.’
Reilly looked at him and while she couldn’t be absolutely sure, she was still almost certain Chris knew more about her family situation than he was letting on. Damn …
‘So it was up to you to take care of your little sister?’
‘Yes. My dad – well as I said, he worked a lot and then … later he drank a lot too.’
‘You mentioned he lives here in Dublin now.’
She nodded.
‘What about your sister? Are you two still in touch?’
Reilly glanced up quickly, certain that he was testing her but no, his expression was as clear and open as it always was.
‘No,’ she replied, softly.
‘So what’s all this about?’ Chris asked. ‘Why’s this guy so interested in you and your family? What’s it got to do with the murders?’
Reilly looked down at the IV drip in her arm. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she replied. Looking up, she spotted a nurse across the ward. She tried to catch her eye. ‘Excuse me?’ she waved. The nurse saw her and signaled at her to wait a moment.
‘What are you doing?’ Chris asked, surprised at her sudden change in mood.
‘You’re right, we need to know what’s going on and we’ve already wasted too much time today,’ she said, starting to climb out of the bed.
‘Reilly, what are you doing?’ Chris protested, reaching out and trying to restrain her. ‘You’ve been injected with a potentially lethal anesthetic. You’ve got to give your body time to get over that. You need to rest.’
‘Yeah, well I think I got enough rest today to last me for a lifetime.’ Reilly ripped the IV from her arm. ‘Right now, I need to talk to Daniel.’
***
In the event, Reilly had to wait. Forrest was out of his office when she called, so the best she could do was leave a message. But she knew that the voicemail she left would guarantee that he called her as soon as he picked it up: ‘We think the perp broke into the lab and attacked me. We need to talk.’
She hung up the phone. ‘If that doesn’t get him to call, nothing will,’ she informed Chris.
When it became clear that she was going to leave the hospital no matter what anyone said, Chris insisted on accompanying her back to the lab – reluctant to leave her alone. He still hadn’t quite got over the sight of her fading away in the stairwell, or the moment in the ambulance ride to the hospital when he’d thought she was gone.
As soon as word got out that Reilly was back, her staff hurried in to check on her and ask questions.
The last to appear was Julius. After saying all the right things, he was straight back to business, dropping off the most recent report from the lab on the evidence collected at the Miles scene.
‘You’ll be happy to know that there’s some decent trace here, something that also appeared at the Ryan and Watson scenes but in more minuscule amounts.’
Reilly picked up the report and began reading. ‘Anything interesting?’
He nodded. ‘Could be. Check out the fifth item down.’
‘Calcium sulphate,’ she read out for Chris’s benefit. ‘Gypsum.’
‘What’s that?’ he asked, eager to hear about anything that might help break this – especially when this guy seemed to be not only escalating, but getting bolder too. You didn’t need to be a big-shot profiler to know that breaking into Reilly’s place and attacking her at the lab was a clear statement of intent, or even worse – an assertion of control.
‘Technically, it’s a naturally occurring mineral, but has a number of applications in everyday life – blackboard chalk, plaster board, plaster of Paris—’
Julius cut in. ‘I was thinking that the plaster of Paris, coupled with the pentobarbital and animal hair samples adds even more weight to the veterinary angle.’
‘You think our guy might work in a vet’s?’ Chris asked and Julius looked at Reilly for affirmation.
‘It’s certainly a possibility – and a useful find. But it could just as easily be chalk dust from a teacher or lecturer or even a lab worker …’ He watched her turn the list of possibilities over in her head. ‘Thanks, Julius. It gives us something to think about.’
‘No problem. Erm …’ He lingered a little, looking somewhat uncomfortably at Chris.
Reilly picked up on it. ‘Anything else?’
‘Well, I also got back those blood test results you wanted … for that other case,’ he said, cryptically, a second sheaf of paper in his hands. ‘I thought you might want to take a look at them, but I can bring them back later if you like.’
Reilly held out her hand. ‘Great. Right now is fine, thank you.’
‘Yes, well … again, we’re all glad you’re OK.’ He nodded, then turned and left.
Chris looked carefully at her. ‘Blood tests? Would those happen to be …?’
‘Why don’t you close the door?’ she suggested, quietly.
He did as he was bid, then sat down and faced her expectantly – he was unsure if he wanted them to have found something or not. While it would be a relief to know what was wrong with him, to have it out in the open and to try to deal with it, another side of him was hoping that there was nothing at all wrong, maybe just old-fashioned fatigue or something he’d get over in time. He fixed his gaze on Reilly, trying to read her face as she read through the report sheet. She looked
thoughtful.
‘What is it?’ he urged, unable to contain his impatience any longer. ‘Do I have cancer or something?’
Her eyes gave nothing away. ‘Chris, to be honest, I still don’t know. There was something out of kilter in my initial screen, so I ordered another, but …’
‘Out of kilter?’
‘Some of the numbers were above normal parameters, but the second test seems to have come out fine.’ She exhaled deeply. ‘Look, I’m no doctor, and there’s a limit to what we can do at the lab here – you need to see a specialist, someone who can look at the overall symptoms. A blood test is really nothing more than a shot in the dark.’
He nodded, trying not to betray his disappointment, and he could tell by Reilly’s frustrated expression that she felt the same way. ‘Thanks for trying anyway, I appreciate that.’
‘I’m only sorry I couldn’t put your mind at ease. But Chris, you need to get this looked at; you can’t ignore it indefinitely.’
‘You’re right,’ he conceded. ‘Although coming from someone who’s just skipped out of hospital against doctor’s orders …’
She gave a weak smile. ‘That’s different, we’ve got a lot to do. And speaking of which,’ she stood up, ‘thanks for babysitting me this morning, but you need to go away now and let me get some work done. I need to read through this latest batch of results and see if I can—’
‘Can’t do that, I’m afraid.’ Chris folded the papers and slipped them in his pocket.
She looked at him sharply. ‘What?’
‘Reilly, it might have been water off a duck’s back to you, but a major crime was committed here today,’ he explained. ‘And we need to debrief you.’
‘We?’
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.
Kennedy poked his head round the door and grinned sheepishly. ‘We ready? I’m looking forward to this.’
Although Reilly wasn’t in the mood to talk about her recent experience, she understood the necessity of it. In fact, it was only when she sat down with the two detectives that she realized how shaken up she actually was.
It was now late evening, and while she had been sleeping at the hospital, her team had already processed the crime scenes – the lab and her own office.
And despite the personal aspect, she knew her assessment of the evidence they’d collected had to be as cold and ruthless as it would with any other.
Kennedy was in an unusually conciliatory mood. Although he had been dismissive of some of her methods in the past, he seemed to understand that this was no time to press his agenda. He carefully walked her through the whole scenario as it had unfolded, from the moment that Reilly had walked in the door of the building that morning until the point where she had blacked out.
‘But you don’t remember actually seeing the perp?’
She sighed heavily, frustrated at herself. ‘No. I was hit over the head as soon as I entered the stairwell, so I didn’t have time to register anything but the gun and then the hypodermic. I’d still wager that the person was female though. How else would they have got through security with my pass?’
‘We’ll have to keep an open mind on that one for the moment,’ Chris said. ‘Seeing as there’s no CCTV in operation in this building.’
‘Yeah, what brainbox decided that?’ Kennedy growled.
‘I raised it when I took the job but was told it wasn’t considered a priority. I thought it was cute at the time,’ Reilly replied, kneading her forehead in frustration. ‘Little did I know.’
Kennedy closed his notebook with a snap and settled back in the chair. ‘So what have we learned from all of this?’
‘We know how brazen our killer is for starters,’ Chris offered. ‘Getting up close and personal like that …’
‘But where is this all going, Reilly?’ Kennedy asked. ‘You’re the expert here.’
She rocked back in her chair, suddenly feeling drawn and tired. She ran a hand through her hair. ‘That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it?’
‘OK,’ said Kennedy. ‘Let’s start with an easier one. Irrespective of whether or not it was our guy or some accomplice, why did the perp come here today? Why expose himself, why take that risk?’
‘Because he’s enjoying himself and he wants us to know it,’ Chris suggested.
‘Right,’ she concurred. ‘He wants us to know it’s him, to think about him. It makes him feel special, important, to know that he’s constantly on our minds.’
‘Looking for attention, you mean? Sounds like a school kid,’ Kennedy said, gruffly.
Chris looked puzzled. ‘How’s that?’
‘You don’t have kids, you wouldn’t understand.’ He turned to Reilly. ‘You’ll get it though – seeing as you’re into all this psychological claptrap.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, when our kids started school, the teachers told us that one of the things that helps them adjust – and not be scared about going to school and all that nonsense – was for us parents to let them know that we’re thinking about them.’ He looked uncomfortable, admitting something so personal. ‘So we did. Every morning when I dropped the girls off at school, I reminded them of the family photograph I carry around in my wallet. And it worked.’
‘So they felt like a part of them was always with you,’ Reilly added, thoughtfully.
‘Yeah.’
She looked at him, lips pursed in concern. ‘We really need to talk to Daniel.’
26
Reilly woke from a deep sleep. She looked around afraid, half imagining someone hovering over her, hypodermic in hand. The sharp trill of her bedside phone brought her back to reality.
She glanced at the clock – 2.25 a.m. – and snatched up the handset.
‘Hey, Daniel.’
‘Reilly? Did I wake you?’
Just hearing his warm baritone with its soft Virginia burr calmed her. ‘Yeah, but it’s OK.’
‘I was out earlier – I just got back and picked up your message.’ He let out a deep breath. ‘That’s been quite some day you’ve had. Are you OK?’
She sat up, pulled the covers up tight around her, and swept her hair back out of her eyes. She was wide awake now. ‘It’s fine, I’m OK.’
He cleared his throat. ‘The tone of your follow-up e-mail was informative but rather dry.’
Reilly chuckled humorlessly. ‘What – did you expect to see evidence that I’d been crying on my keyboard as I typed?’
‘How are you – honestly?’
She considered a moment. Earlier she’d been too busy to really think about how all this had affected her – she’d just been trying to deal with it. ‘I’m …’ She paused. ‘I guess I’m still trying to understand what it means.’
Daniel laughed softly. ‘A classic Reilly answer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I ask you how you are – that’s a question on an emotional level. You tell me you’re trying to understand it – that’s an answer on an intellectual level.’
Reilly gazed out the window at the cloudy night sky as she spoke. ‘It really wasn’t meant to be evasive, Daniel,’ she replied. ‘I mean, yes I’m struggling to understand what all of this means. The photograph, that one in particular and the note – what’s going on here? It’s like the killer knows me, knows about Jess too, but how? I’m worried now that there’s a lot more to this than meets the eye.’
And just then, the shell cracked, the cold, professional demeanour that Reilly always presented to the world finally broke, and the tears began to flow freely.
Daniel, three thousand miles away, heard her soft sobs and knew what it meant. He felt three thousand light years away for all the comfort he could offer. All he could do was sit and listen, knowing it was what she needed, knowing that she just had to cry herself out. ‘It’s OK, Reilly, it’s OK,’ he murmured, softly.
She clutched the phone tightly, comforted simply by his presence on the other end of the line, images of Jess and her ch
ildhood flashing through her mind. He knew probably better than anyone how much it had affected her back then, how hard she’d tried to move away from it, put the horror of it all behind her. But now, to have it come back to haunt her, and here of all places …
Finally, the tears began to lessen. Reilly grabbed a tissue from the box on her bedside, dabbed her cheeks and blew her nose. ‘That was embarrassing,’ she sniffed, finally.
‘Not at all,’ Daniel said, gently. ‘I was just concerned that your phone might get too soggy and we’d lose the connection.’
She laughed quietly, and realized as she did so that she was already feeling better. ‘Thanks. Honestly. You’re the only one I can talk to about this. The guys I’m working with here don’t know, at least I don’t think they do.’ She thought again about Chris’s gentle questioning at the hospital earlier.
‘Well, that’s neither here nor there. The question is what does our killer know and is he using the information to try and undermine you? That would be my first guess. After all, these days it’s easy enough to do a basic background search on a person using search engines and whatnot.’
Reilly nodded. Of course, it would be easy enough for anyone who wanted to know more about her to have stumbled across the old newspaper articles and reports from back then. And if you were searching for a weak spot …
‘Exactly,’ Daniel concurred when Reilly suggested that this might be the killer’s intention. ‘We already know that psychological games are a huge part of his MO. He’s getting a huge buzz from pitting his wits against one of the FBI’s finest. Middle-aged, red-nosed Irish cops don’t have quite the same appeal, do they?’
She smiled, realizing he was echoing her earlier description of Kennedy back to her.
‘So assuming he has locked onto me as an opponent, and figured Jess as my weak spot. How do I deal with it?’
‘Deal with it as you would any other. Disregard the personal – so as not to give him that leverage – and don’t afford him any special treatment.’ But there was something in his voice that made Reilly wonder if he had another, alternative theory to the one they were discussing.
‘You really think it’s that simple?’ she asked. ‘That he’s trying to gain an edge over the investigation by undermining me personally?’
