I won't be back in. I'll see ya in the morning when you pick me up at six-thirty. We can discuss what the letters contained while we're drivin' to Atlanta. See ya then."
Ashley's eyes narrowed as she watched him walk toward the door and disappear from sight. Self-conscious of standing and staring, she glanced at Regina to see if she was caught.
Regina was looking at her with a smile. "I told ya he had a way."
Red-faced, Ashley turned in silence and walked to her desk.
Garth Brooks was singing the sad refrain of "The Last Dance" as Eli hummed along. On the last note, Eli finished his beer off and set the can on the table. He broke his distant gaze and shifted his eyes to his tablemate. "That's his best song."
Ed Faraday set down his beer can beside his empty plate. "I don't know, Tan, 'I Got Friends in Low Places' was pretty dam good. Me and the wife do a mean two-step to it."
"You're right, Ed, that was a good one. I don't like his new stuff that much, but Clint Black seems to be gettin' better with every new--"
He stopped in mid-sentence, seeing a woman approach whom he hadn't expected to see.
Ashley pulled back a chair and sat down. "Congratulations, Tanner, your long shot hit pay dirt. Walter Schwark, number seven on the list, lives in Fayetteville. The resident office there sent the Atlanta office a confirmation message. Walter Schwark retired as a first sergeant five years ago. He works as chief of security for Sears in a mall in Fayetteville. The agents didn't make actual contact with him because he's in Florida on vacation with his wife. The Sears people said he was expected back in two days."
Eli raised his hand and spoke to a passing waitress. "Two more beers here and--" He looked at Ashley. "You going to stay long enough to have a drink?"
Ed scooted his chair back. "Cancel that beer for me, Tan. I gotta hit the road. Looks like you two gotta talk business anyway. Thanks for the dinner, the ribs were delicious. See ya, buddy. Agent Sutton, it was a pleasure."
"Thanks again, Ed. Let's do it again when you're in town again." Eli turned to the waitress. "Make that one beer and a gin and tonic with lime for the lady."
Ashley studied his face a moment. "I thought you'd be pleased with yourself, Tanner. Your long shot saved Walter Schwark's life."
"I am pleased, but I'd feel a lot more comfortable if our people could have talked to him today. He might know where the others are living or he might have an idea who on the team would have a reason to murder his old unit members."
"You're right, I'm sorry. This case is getting to me. I hate sitting here knowing that four men on the list are being hunted and the fifth is doing the hunting."
The waitress smiled as she set the tray of drinks on the table.
"Sugar, ya want me to play 'The Last Dance' again for ya? I just love that song."
Eli grinned and tossed a five dollar bill on her tray. "Would ya? I love it, too. Play it a couple of times. Thank you."
Ashley gave him a glare as the leggy waitress walked away.
"You're just making all kinds of friends, aren't you?'
"She likes the same song I do, Agent Sutton. Give me a break. What did you find in the letters?'
Ashley sipped at her drink and set the glass down. "I made notes for you on the specifics, names of others, like you asked.
In general you were right. The team was working a secret mission. They and several other teams were working in Cambodia fortifying a series of villages that were close to the South Vietnamese border. Seems some general deemed the villages vital for the security of Vietnam. The team worked in a village known simply as Camp 147. Hoffman's letters were the best on the subject. He was twenty-six years old in 1972 and had just married his wife, Imogene. She didn't know anything about the Army or the war, so Hoffman wrote trying to explain what he was doing. He was good at it. Even I understood what they were trying to do. Basically it was to train, arm, and equip the villagers to fight the North Vietnamese if they used the valley as an invasion route. Problem was, the war was winding down and Hoffman was getting worried that they were trying to do too much too late. His later letters betray depression and self-doubt. He obviously liked the people of the village very much and didn't want them to be put in serious danger. He thought that by fortifying the village the higher-ups were making the village a target. Hoffman turned out to be right.
"His last letters really tore at my heart. It was obvious to all the team the war was going badly and our government was trying to get out. It seems the entire team had promised the village chief in a ceremony of some kind that they would stay and fight alongside the people of the village and defeat the North Vietnamese. They also had promised the U. S. would provide air support and whatever else was needed to win. It didn't happen. In Hoffman's last letter he was crushed. The team had been ordered out of Camp 147 because of a change in policy about Americans' being in harm's way. The team was transferred to a place called Pleiku. A couple of days later the North Vietnamese attacked their old camp. Hoffman wrote that his captain, Robert Anderson, tried to mount a rescue operation, but the lieutenant colonel in charge of the unit stopped all his efforts. Hoffman told his wife he wanted to die when he heard over the radio the pleas for help from the Cambodian team they had left in the camp. He wrote that he cried like a baby when the voice on the radio said the camp was being overrun and that all was lost. He said the last thing the voice said was, 'Why did you do this to us?' "
Eli stared blankly at his beer can. Ashley waited for a response, but he didn't move a muscle. She waited another moment then touched his hand. "You okay?'
He broke his stare but didn't look at her as he spoke quietly.
"Yeah, I was thinking of Sergeant Hoffman lying in his yard.
After all he'd been through, to end up . . ." He finally raised his eyes to her.
"Guilt may be the motive. One of the team members couldn't take the guilt of leaving those people to die. In some twisted way he wants to erase it from his memory and the only way he can do it is get rid of those who were there."
"And the cross?"
Eli looked back at his can. "I had a Cambodian scout in my platoon. When things got dangerous he would--" Eli pulled out his gold chain from beneath his shirt."--put this Buddha in his mouth. It assured him protection or at least a better life in the next world. Our killer may want his teammates to find a better place when they're gone. A place where they wouldn't ever feel the guilt again."
Sighing, Eli put his chain back in his shirt and picked up his beer. He took a drink. "Any word yet from DOD on the others?'
"I don't know. Since the Atlanta office took over, the addresses would go to Atlanta, and they haven't answered my queries. It looks like we'll know tomorrow. Tanner, it's getting late. Don't you think you ought to call it a night and get some sleep?"
Eli lifted his beer again. "Go on, I'm going to finish this beer and listen to my song awhile. . . . See ya in the morning, and thanks for all your help and comin' over. I know you don't care for this place."
Ashley leaned back in her chair and glanced around. "I guess it's not that bad . . . flies aren't as bad tonight" She sneaked a quick glance to see if he was biting but saw he hadn't even heard her. His distant stare was directed at the far wall.
She got up, gave him a last look, and walked out.
Chapter 11.
9:20 A. M. Wednesday, Atlanta Office, Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Ashley felt like a leper as she stood beside Eli in the crowded briefing room. The cold stares and distance the other agents were keeping from them made her furious. She leaned closer to Eli and whispered, "A great bunch of guys, huh?"
Eli lowered his head. "It's me they're giving the cold shoulder. You'd better keep your distance or you'll be tainted when you come up here to work."
"Forget that, we're in this together. All of this stinks, Tanner. I don't like it that the ASAC took all our background material from us. I thought we were supposed to brief the background."
Eli whispered, "S
tay cool. Just do what the ASAC said and we'll be out of here and back in Columbus in a couple of hours."
The briefing room door opened and the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the Atlanta office, George Polous, entered the room and spoke loudly. "Please take your seats. You'll find place cards on the table. The SAC will be coming in a minute."
"The way they're treating us, I thought they'd put us in the next room and televise the meeting for our benefit. It stinks, Tanner," whispered Ashley.
"Stead-dee. We'll just sit and keep our mouths shut, like George here said."
Taking their seats, they both opened their briefcases and took out their briefing notes.
The ASAC took his seat next to two empty chairs at the head of the table. He cleared his throat, pushed his stylish tortoiseshell frames up on his nose, and motioned for his assistant to hand out the packets. "You're now receiving the background folders on the case. You'll find the investigation reports concerning the victims in Columbus and the reports sent in from the police departments that handled what they thought were suicides. Please note the killer's M. O. is laid out for you on the last page. In just a minute the SAC will be joining us as well as the behavioral scientist sent down from Quantico for the case.
We are fortunate because Quantico sent their best, Dr. Ramona Valez.
"For you newer agents who might not have heard of her, Dr.
Valez is the one who broke the Newton serial killings case, as well as the much publicized Hooper case. We can be-"
Behind the ASAC the door opened and Don Farrel, the SAC, entered the room, followed by a tall, striking, dark-haired, middle-age woman.
Ashley was shocked. She had assumed the famous Ph. D. was a dumpy gray-haired intellectual who wore thick glasses and figureless dresses. Ramona Valez was not even close to that image; she had the look and figure of a happy aerobics instructor, the kind one sees on early morning TV. She was wearing tight blue jeans, a white silk blouse, a single strand of pearls, and a five-hundred-dollar DKNY blue blazer. She didn't wear makeup and didn't need to; her olive skin was flawless. Her nose was a tad too big, but she was very attractive. But it was her high cheekbones and penetrating deep-set brown eyes that made her special. Ashley could almost feel the other agents undressing the stylish doctor in their minds. To her surprise, Eli's attention was focused on his briefing notes.
He didn't even look up when the doctor took her seat at the corner of the table just two feet from where he was seated.
At the head of the table, Farrel smiled as he looked over to the doctor. "George has already introduced you, Ramona, but let me say for all of us here what a pleasure and honor it is to have you on the case."
Ramona Valez dipped her chin and looked down the table, panning the admiring faces. "I hope that I can be of assistance in some way." Her gaze lingered for a moment on Eli, then shifted to Farrel. "It's always nice to come to Atlanta and see old friends."
Ashley saw Eli's face reddening and almost poked him to ask what was going on, but Farrel was motioning to his left, at his number two man.
"I've appointed George as my case Agent in Charge of this one, folks. But before I turn over the meeting to him let me say a few things to get us started. As you all know by now, we've had six homicides spread over four states in the space of ten days. This case is unique in that so far the press has not gotten hold of it, and that's the way I want to keep it until it's closed.
Security on this will be tight, no leaks. George and his team chiefs have worked hard since taking over the case and have connected the victims and already identified the killer's next probable targets. We--"
Eli winced when Ashley lifted her hand and said, "Excuse me."
Farrel leaned back in his chair with a scowl. "Agent Sutton, I was just going over my introductory remarks. I didn't ask for questions."
Ashley returned his glare. "Sir, I feel obligated to correct what you just said. Agent Tanner connected the victims, not the ASAC. And it was Agent Tanner who found the names of the team members, identifying the next possible targets."
Farrel nodded as if to a second grader. "Thank you, Agent Sutton. I'm fully aware of what the Columbus office has done.
In the interest of time I felt specific laudatory remarks to individuals weren't necessary. Now may I continue?"
Ashley said nothing.
"As I was saying, George and his task force have already done yeoman's work. In fact in light of recent information, this case may soon be closed. It is my good fortune to report that George has identified a suspect who is very probably our killer."
Ashley and Eli tensed with surprise. They had talked to Polous earlier in his office to give him a summary of their briefing packet information, and he hadn't mentioned a word to them about finding a suspect.
Farrel again motioned to Polous. "George, let's don't keep everybody in suspense. I'll turn over the meeting to you."
Special Agent George Polous nodded and picked up a stack of papers. "Our people have been working with DOD and more specifically the Finance and Accounting Office for military retired pay. A few hours ago the Washington office faxed us the addresses of the men who were teammates of the victims. We now have knowledge of the whereabouts of four of the five men in question. Only the whereabouts of one man, John A. Elder, is still unknown. Unlike the others, Mr. Elder was discharged from the military after his tour in Vietnam and does not receive retirement pay."
Polous passed half of the stack of papers to his left and the other to his right. "Please take a packet and pass on the rest. I'll go over it with you. As you can see on page one, the number of men who are possible targets has been reduced by two. DOD informed us Sergeant Barry Atkins was killed during the Desert One operation in 1974. You will recall the military's abortive rescue attempt of the embassy employees in Iran.
Sergeant Atkins and others were tragically killed when one of the aircraft caught fire. Note also DOD informed us that Sergeant Frederick Woolshager died in a St. Paul, Minneapolis, V. A. Hospital in 1989 from heart disease. This reduces the list to three. I'll now discuss the newest information. Note the first name on the list. Captain Robert E. Anderson. He retired from the military four years ago as a colonel and was residing in Fairfax, Virginia. Agents were immediately dispatched to talk to him and to protect him. Our agents found instead that Robert Anderson was missing and has been missing since May twenty-ninth. That is significant because the first victim was killed two days later in Kansas on the first of June. Mrs.
Anderson reported her husband missing to local authorities when he did not return from his work as a sales manager for a computer graphics company. Let me move on to the other team members and we'll go back to Anderson later. The one remaining member of the team of whom we know the whereabouts is retired Sergeant Walter Schwark, who resides in Fayetteville, North Carolina. I said we know his whereabouts, but at present that's not exactly correct. We know where he lives, but Mr. Schwark is somewhere in Florida on vacation.
He and his wife are due back tomorrow, and we are making every attempt to find him, but so far we've had no luck. John Elder is our current problem, but his residence and whereabouts should soon be known. Our people are working with the IRS and we expect soon to have his address."
Polous pushed his glasses farther back on his nose and pointed to an organization chart on the wall. "This is the breakout showing how my task force is organized. Team A, headed up by Agent John Hawks, is concentrating on the two team members who are possible targets. He has already dispatched a team to work with the Fayetteville resident office, and he has a team standing by to be sent out once Elder is found. Team A is responsible for ensuring the two men are protected and in setting the trap for the killer when he attempts to finish his business with either team member.
`Team B is headed up by Agent Josh Simmons. Josh's team is responsible for tracking down and finding our number one suspect, Robert Anderson. Josh is already running a computer search of airline manifests, credit card receipts, and ca
r rental agencies. It's obvious our killer flew into or near cities close to the victims.
"I have taken the liberty of assigning each of you to a team based on your area of expertise. You'll find your names posted on the chart below the team headings. The room the team will work out of is also posted. Let me tell you all that the director has given us number-one priority on this case. You should have no problem securing any information you may need. If you run into problems, notify your team leader or me. I will be with Team B for the rest of the day. We'll all meet at ten A. M. and three P. M. daily to exchange information. If there are no questions, we'll take a ten-minute coffee break, then adjourn to the team rooms and begin work."
Dr. Ramona Valez lifted her hand. "I'm sorry, George, I don't have a question but I do feel before we break up I should mention some things for everyone's benefit. Don was kind enough to fax me the killer's M. O. last night, and the investigation reports. I have come up with a preliminary profile. It is obvious, of course, that the killer is very dangerous and very intelligent. He has planned these murders well in advance and has obviously watched each of his victims for some time before beginning his spree. I say this because of the timing of each victim's death. In most cases the victims were alone, which means our killer knew the victim's daily schedule and knew when to strike. Our killer is also methodical: he has left no sign of his presence, and it appears to me that he is on a schedule of some kind. I say this because of the instance where a woman was with a victim. The killer still went through with his execution despite her presence. This tells me the killer could not wait for a better time or until the victim was alone."
Solemn Duty (1997) Page 15
