by Mary Stone
At first, the sight had made him nauseous. Then, it made him angry.
Better than most, Noah knew the dark side of human nature. Just because he knew what human beings were capable of doing to one another didn’t make his ire any less palpable.
They sent the website with the video of the murder—along with four other videos of young women who appeared to have been held captive in the same space—to Cyber Crimes. It didn’t take long for the tech team to confirm what Winter, Noah, and Ryan already knew. The video hadn’t been altered.
By the time Max Osbourne let himself into the interview room, the three of them had already finished their lunches. Winter had been kind enough to go out to buy them Chinese food while Noah stayed with Ryan O’Connelly to await the news from Cyber Crimes.
Noah glanced over as Max eased the door closed behind himself. The SAC paused to sweep his gaze over the little gathering, a patented wordless method Max used to let them know their briefing had officially started. Apparently, the look had more than one use.
“Agents, I would’ve been here sooner, but I had back to back meetings this morning. Mr. O’Connelly, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. You’ve got a reputation for staying away from buildings like this.”
Ryan shrugged, but Noah didn’t miss the glint of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’m hoping that’s something we can finally settle.”
With a quick nod, Max took a seat at the end of the table. “Let’s hear it, then.”
Though Ryan omitted the part of his story that involved his sister, he gave Max the same rundown that he’d given Winter and Noah. For the duration of the explanation, the SAC’s face was unreadable. Despite the seemingly blank look on Max’s face, Noah had been in the Richmond office long enough to know that the man had soaked up each word like a sponge.
As Ryan wrapped up, Noah shifted in the uncomfortable metal chair. They provided suspects with the cheaply made chairs to keep them from getting too comfortable, but he still couldn’t figure out why the agents had to suffer too.
Lacing his fingers together, Max leaned back in his seat. “So,” Max’s gray eyes settled on Ryan, “what are you asking us for, specifically?”
“Specifically?” Ryan echoed.
The SAC nodded. “The US Attorney likes specific, son.”
Ryan swallowed. “I don’t want to go to prison. Honestly, that’s as specific as I care to get. I don’t want to go to prison, and I want to make sure my sister and her kids won’t get caught in the middle of any of this.”
Though Ryan’s concern that his younger sister could be charged with aiding and abetting or harboring a fugitive seemed farfetched at first, Noah had to remind himself that the man was a lifelong criminal. He and his ilk were nothing if not paranoid, and the glint in Ryan’s eyes left no doubt that the man was protective of his sister.
The worry might have seemed farfetched, but Noah knew better than most that the fear was based in reality. If the US Attorney needed to leverage Ryan for whatever reason, they wouldn’t hesitate to throw the so-called book at anyone involved in Ryan’s efforts to elude law enforcement.
SAC Osbourne shook his head. “They won’t be. As long as you aren’t trying to pull a fast one on us, they’ll be fine. You’ll have to forgive me here, Mr. O’Connelly, but you don’t exactly have a history of cooperation with the bureau. I’m not saying that I personally doubt why you’re here. If there were any doubt about your sincerity, I’m confident Agent Black or Agent Dalton would’ve told me by now.”
Some more of the color drained from Ryan’s face, but he nodded. “I understand.”
With an upraised finger, Max rested his arm against the table and scooted forward. “That being said, there’s only so much I can do right now. I can talk to the US Attorney on your behalf and give them my opinion, and so can Agents Black and Dalton here, but the decision is theirs to make. I can tell you one thing, though. They’ll want whatever information you’re giving us here to end with an arrest and a trial.”
Though it was fleeting, Ryan’s expression turned pensive. “A trial?”
“That’s right. Chances are, depending on what evidence they use, you’ll have to testify. Are you willing to do that, Mr. O’Connelly?”
“Of course.” Ryan’s response came without hesitation. “I want these sick bastards put away just as bad as you all do. But, considering my history with the law, I’d have to be some special kind of idiot to do that for free.”
Noah stifled a chuckle. He’d had a chance to mull over Ryan’s situation, and he couldn’t say he would approach it much differently. At the end of the day, Ryan wasn’t a violent offender. He wasn’t a gangster or a drug trafficker, and he wasn’t in the business of exploiting those less fortunate than himself.
He was a thief who’d made off with millions of dollars’ worth of valuables in the course of his career, but he had a reputation for being as unobtrusive in his heists as was humanly possible. No one saw him, no one caught him, and most importantly, no one fought him. As far as Noah was concerned, he was the ideal candidate for a bargain with the US Attorney.
Not only did he have valuable information about whoever had made the four kidnapping videos and the single murder video, but he’d honed an entire list of criminal contacts over the course of his life. Noah had kept the sentiment to himself so far, but he wouldn’t be surprised if part of Ryan’s agreement with the US Attorney would involve his cooperation with a host of other investigations.
However, Noah wasn’t naïve. If the US Attorney saw the capture and conviction of Ryan O’Connelly as a feather in their professional cap—as a guaranteed conviction that could give them a ticket to a promotion or a raise—they’d take the sure thing over the gamble that they may or may not find the lunatic responsible for the twisted videos.
That was politics, which was exactly why Noah had no desire to advance to any role beyond field agent or Supervisory Special Agent. He hadn’t been raised to play those games. He’d been raised to do the right thing, even if it meant the more difficult path.
“We’ll find him.”
In tandem, Noah, Max, and Ryan all looked over to Winter.
Between the determined glint in her eyes and the matter-of-fact tone in which she’d spoken, Noah was hard-pressed to keep the grin off his face as he turned to Max. “We’re going to need O’Connelly for this investigation, sir.”
The SAC scratched his chin. “Yeah, I think you will. Mr. O’Connelly, I know we don’t know one another, but I’m familiar with your reputation. Lucky for you, you’re a non-violent offender, and before you hooked your wagon to Heidi Presley, there’s no concrete evidence that ties you to any prior crimes. No charges have been filed against you directly for those, or if they were, they’ve since been dropped or passed the statute of limitations. But getting them to look past the Presley case won’t be easy.”
Any amusement was sucked from the air around them at the bleak statement. Noah gave SAC Osbourne a sober nod in response.
“You’re familiar with the felony murder rule, aren’t you, Mr. O’Connelly?” Max’s gaze didn’t waver from where he’d fixed it on Ryan.
“I am,” Ryan replied.
“Then you know that, under the felony murder rule, the US Attorney can charge you with all those murders even if you didn’t actually commit them. You were there, and you were present for the acts that led up to the murders. In the eyes of the law, that makes you just as culpable as Heidi Presley.”
At the sudden discomfort on Ryan’s face, the man might as well have been sitting on a pile of rusty barbed wire. Then again, Noah was sitting on the same type of chair, and a pile of barbed wire wasn’t much of a downgrade.
Max rested his elbows on the laminate table. “I don’t say that because I think that’s what they’re going to do. Honestly, with a defense lawyer that’s worth even half a shit, they’d be hard-pressed to get any of those convictions to stick after what Presley put you through in the end. I just want you to know that I plan to
go through this with the US Attorney, but like I said, it won’t be easy.”
Noah barely suppressed a sigh. More politics. Great.
Ryan nodded. “I understand.”
“In the meantime,” Max paused to gesture first to himself and then to Winter and Noah, “here’s what we can do for you. I think it goes without saying that we need to make sure you don’t split in the middle of this thing. Instead of tossing you in a holding cell, I’ll make you a deal. You’re going to have to sign it before you can walk out of here, provided you’re interested.”
A portion of the shadow left Ryan’s eyes. “I am.”
“Agents Black and Dalton think you’ll be able to help them with this thing, and I’m in agreement. Now, Mr. O’Connelly, you’re going to wear an ankle monitor while you do your part, and we’re going to have one of our agents keep an eye on you. This isn’t the old school ankle monitor you’re thinking of, either. This one records your pulse, your blood pressure, hell, even the conductivity of your skin. It can literally tell whether or not you’re planning to escape.”
“Jaysus,” Ryan muttered under his breath.
For the second time, Noah had to fight back laughter.
A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Max’s mouth as he crossed his arms. “You’re dealing with the FBI now, son. It’s not quite as easy to get away from us as it is to get away from the police in Erie, Pennsylvania. I’ll work with the US Attorney to get something ironed out that you can live with, but Mr. O’Connelly…”
The SAC’s eyes glittered icily as he pinned Ryan with a foreboding look. Noah had been fortunate enough so far not to have been on the receiving end of that glare, and right now, he hoped his streak would continue indefinitely.
“…if you try to sneak away,” Max’s voice was deathly calm, “or if you make me or my agents look like idiots for trusting you on this, I will personally hunt you down. And when I find you, and I will find you, I will make sure you stand trial for every last innocent person Heidi Presley killed, including a federal agent. Mr. O’Connelly, if you try to fuck me over, I will hang you from the highest rafter I can find. Do you understand me?”
When Ryan swallowed this time, Noah heard the gulp.
Before an uncomfortable silence could settle over the room, the man nodded. “I understand.”
Max’s stony countenance remained as he returned the nod. “Good. Because right now, there’s a psychopath out there kidnapping and murdering young women in our city and filming it so they can sell it on the web.”
5
As he raised a hand to stifle a yawn, Bobby Weyrick wondered why he didn’t just move into the FBI office. There had to be a spare room where he could put a mattress and television. A small closet for all his stuff. Or maybe it was finally time for him to leave the night shift to work during the hours when normal human beings operated.
He’d only been content with working nights for so long because his soon to be ex-wife had also worked the same shift. But Kara had cheated on him for years, and he’d known about the infidelity for almost the entire time. So, why, exactly, had he stayed on this bloody shift?
Covering his mouth as he yawned again, he couldn’t come up with an answer.
To him, the five o’clock evening briefing was equivalent to three in the morning for a person with a normal sleep schedule. There were only a couple other agents who worked the night shift in Violent Crimes, and they all joked about what it would be like to schedule a mandatory meeting at three in the morning. Of the night crew, he was the only agent who had been summoned to the briefing that evening.
After he set his paper cup of coffee on the table, he slumped down to sit behind Winter Black and Noah Dalton. At his light groan, Winter glanced over her shoulder and arched a dark eyebrow.
As he took a tentative sip of the potent coffee, he shook his head at her unasked question. “I just woke up.”
A touch of amusement rose to her face as she nodded her understanding.
He snapped his gaze over to a flicker of movement as the final two attendees made their way to the cluster of tables that faced the podium and whiteboard at the front of the room. The fluorescent light caught the shine of Sun’s glossy black hair. Not a single strand of her angled bob was out of place, and her pastel blue dress shirt and gray slacks were as neatly pressed as ever.
Though Sun’s eyes flitted over to him, her expression changed little. Rather than acknowledge his presence with a wave or even a nod, she took a seat at the side of her companion, Miguel Vasquez. Miguel, at least, offered a quick wave.
In the days since Bobby had returned from the Baltimore assignment he’d worked with Winter, Sun had regarded him with the same suspicion one would most likely give a leper. He’d gleaned that she wasn’t keen on Winter, but he still wasn’t sure how the feeling of distaste differed from her attitude toward the general populace.
Was she jealous?
At the thought, he wrinkled his nose. That was ridiculous. He liked Winter as a person. She was sharp, and her sense of humor was remarkably similar to his, but there were zero romantic aspirations between the two of them.
Sure, he could admit that she was an attractive woman. He could also admit that Noah Dalton was a good-looking man, but he didn’t want to sleep with the big Texan, either.
Jealousy had never been an attribute to which Bobby devoted much attention, and his understanding of what could provoke such a sentiment was sorely lacking. He pushed aside the internal debate as Max Osbourne strode over to stand behind the wooden podium.
“Evening, ladies and gentlemen.” The SAC swept his gaze over the gathering. “Most of you know why we’re here already, so let’s just get right to it. We’re here because of Ryan O’Connelly.”
Sun’s dark eyes swept across the room. “Where is he?”
Max leveled a finger in her direction. “If you’ll allow me to finish, Agent Ming, you’d very quickly learn that he’s in the building, at least for now. We aren’t booking him. Not officially, anyway. He’s an integral part of this investigation. He’s got a line of communication straight to our pool of suspects, and he’s the one who found where one of them has been posting kidnapping videos and homemade snuff films online.”
As she set her jaw, Sun crossed her legs. So, maybe Bobby wasn’t the only object of her irritation. Maybe she was mad about their case.
“Agent Black and Agent Dalton are heading up this investigation. Mr. O’Connelly will be moved to a secure location once we’re done with this briefing.” Max’s gray eyes met Bobby’s. “Agent Weyrick, you’re responsible for keeping an eye on O’Connelly.”
The flash of indignation on Sun’s face was more noticeable. As she opened her mouth to protest, Max cut her off.
“Agent Ming, I can see you’re chomping at the bit. Agent Weyrick will be responsible for O’Connelly at night, and you’ll take the day shift. O’Connelly has expressed interest in making himself useful, and I expect the two of you will take advantage of the close contact to glean any information you can. This isn’t a babysitting assignment.”
From the short interaction he’d had with the renowned thief the day before, Bobby figured he and O’Connelly would get along fine. With a nod, he took another sip of the black coffee in his hand.
Max returned the nod before he gestured to the brunette woman seated at the table in front of Sun and Miguel. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll turn this over to Agent Welford from Cyber Crimes.”
Agent Welford offered a polite smile as she rose to stand. She’d fashioned her dark brown hair into a neat ponytail, and her flats tapped lightly against the tiled floor. Max moved to the side as she took her spot at the front of the room.
If Bobby met Special Agent Ava Welford on the street, he wouldn’t have guessed she was an agent with the FBI. Her honey-brown eyes were warm and kind, and there were just enough laugh lines on her fair face to make her seem approachable. She looked like someone’s aunt, not a federal agent. Then again, the two thi
ngs weren’t mutually exclusive.
Before his mind wandered down the inane path, he took another long pull from the dark coffee. He felt like he’d slept for five hours in the last six days. If it hadn’t been for the trusty combination of energy provided by caffeine and metal music, he’d have curled up in a ball on the floor like a cat.
“Okay,” Agent Welford’s voice cut through the haze that had threatened to overtake Bobby’s thoughts, “we all know by now that there have been a total of five videos posted to the sub-forum of a website that Mr. O’Connelly found on the dark web. In the first four videos, the camera doesn’t move. All that’s captured in the frames is the women pacing and searching the room. Then, the feed just goes dead.”
The mention of a serial kidnapper turned murderer was enough to push the cobwebs from Bobby’s head.
Agent Welford cleared her throat. “Until the fifth video, that was the MO. But at the end of the fifth one, there was a new video after the feed of the captivity ended. In that shot, an unknown masked man produces a butcher knife and slits the young woman’s throat.”
“We know the videos are real, right?” Sun asked.
Ava Welford nodded. “Yes. And as best as we can tell, there weren’t any special effects used. To the best of our knowledge, the video of the young woman being killed is authentic.”
“What are the odds it’s not real?” This time, the query came from Aiden Parrish, the Supervisory Special Agent of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.
In response, Agent Welford shook her head. “The odds are slim, SSA Parrish. To create something that realistic, the actor and the filmmaker would need access to a state-of-the-art special effects studio and an artist capable of pulling off that type of realism. I’m not sure how many high-budget movies you all have seen recently, but considering half the time Hollywood can’t even get it right, I think it stands to reason that a random person in a basement won’t have what it takes.”
