by Robin Mahle
Duncan smiled. “I know just where to start.”
Nick had offered to pick up his former associate from Ronald Reagan airport, at which he now waited. It had been years since he’d seen Palmero, recalling the last time was at a continuing education seminar. This was back during his early days at the Washington Field Office, before Kate and before Dwight Jameson.
The moment he spotted a man approach, there was no mistaking that it was Agent Mitch Palmero. He might have been a little older, they all were, but he had changed very little. The black hair was a little thinner, but still worn short on the sides and longer on the top. A bit gangly but he appeared to have more confidence in his step than in his younger years. And how could Nick forget about the bolo ties? The man loved his bolo ties.
With an outstretched hand, Nick stepped forward to greet him. “Mitch Palmero. How are you, man? You’re looking good.”
Palmero took his hand with enthusiasm and shook it firmly. “Doing all right, my man. You look soft. Like you been spending too much time rubbing elbows with the upper echelons of the Bureau. The Scarborough I remember didn’t care about fancy suits and polished shoes.”
Nick smiled. “Yeah well, I might dress better now but I’ll take you on in a push-up contest any day. Soft, my ass.” He chuckled and patted the man on his back. “Let’s head out. You brought us one hell of a mess with this one. Better get down to business.”
They caught up on old times on the drive back to Quantico. Nick appreciated seeing someone from his past. It was like he was a young and hungry agent again. It had been a long time since he felt that way. The fire in his gut pushing him through a case. He missed those days and hadn’t realized it until now.
“Here we are.” Nick drove onto the grounds and headed toward the Division’s headquarters.
“Man, it’s still hard to believe you’re with BAU. That’s the dream.” Palmero gazed at the building. “I haven’t been here in a while either. I think the last time was a few years ago to catch up on some training.”
“That must’ve been before I was transferred. It’s a good place to be, don’t get me wrong, but there’s a lot of politics here. It takes some getting used to.”
“And are you used to it now?” Palmero asked.
“Nope.” Nick pulled into the parking garage and cut the engine.
“Kate Reid, she was that agent who was abducted as a kid, right?”
“That’s her. She and I live together.”
“No shit? Oh, sorry man. I didn’t realize. No disrespect.”
“How could you know? Besides, none taken. Let’s go inside and I’ll make the introductions. I hear the boss wants to get started on a meeting right away.” Nick stepped out of the car and Palmero caught up.
“What’s the deal with all that because you were the Senior Unit Agent, right?” Palmero held up his hands. “If I’m overstepping, just punch me in the gut. That usually shuts me up.”
“You’re not overstepping. Yeah, it was my gig for a while, and I screwed it up. Cost me the job and might’ve cost me the girl too. That remains to be seen.” Nick stepped onto the elevator and held the doors for Palmero.
The doors opened and Nick stepped off the elevator. “This is it. This is where it all happens.” He smiled at Palmero. “You ready to get started?”
“Better believe it.”
Nick led the way to his office. “You can keep your things in here until we can get you set up someplace else. How long are you planning on sticking around, anyway?”
“Just a day or two, tops. I’d like to hash out this list and see if we can get moving on a ground team.”
“You got it.” Nick glanced through the door of his office. “Right through here. I think they’ll all be in the conference room waiting for us.”
“Then let’s not keep them in suspense. I’ll follow your lead.” Palmero grabbed the files he needed and waited for Nick to head out.
The team had convened in the conference room and awaited their arrival. Kate spotted their approach and the smile on Nick’s face that she hadn’t seen in a while. She didn’t know this Agent Palmero but liked the effect he had on Nick already.
“Afternoon,” Nick walked inside and gestured to Palmero. “I know most of you are already familiar with or have spoken to SSA Palmero, but here he is in the flesh. Mitch Palmero, over there is Eva Duncan.”
“Duncan, nice to meet you in person,” Palmero replied.
“Back at you.”
“That’s Levi Walsh, our chief coordinator with the local authorities,” Nick continued.
“Agent Walsh,” Palmero nodded.
“Pleasure.”
“This is Kate Reid, our resident profiler.”
Kate nodded and smiled in response.
“And of course, you’ve spoken to Senior Unit Agent Cameron Fisher.”
“It’s a real pleasure finally getting the chance to meet you all. I’m looking forward to learning from each and every one of you and hope to hell we find whoever’s out there taking the lives of the innocent,” Palmero replied.
“Scarborough says you’ve stumbled across a few leads.” Fisher gestured for the agent to sit at the head of the table. “And that you and Duncan have been coordinating on the list of volunteers.”
Palmero opened his files and laid them out on the table before taking a seat. “That’s right. Duncan and I have been working on identifying some of the doctors and volunteers from Oakview where Hurricane Edward hit the hardest. She has been at a distinct disadvantage with only the database at her disposal, while I’ve been able to get in facetime with the local authorities on scene during the evacuations and rescue missions. That said, she phoned me late yesterday to ask that I follow up on a doctor whose initial statement had been overlooked.” He eyed her. “Agent Duncan.”
“A Dr. Andrew Valente. I questioned Agent Palmero if the man had been interviewed again given his initial statement that he recalled an EMT bringing in one of the victims.”
“And I indicated that it looked as though Oakview might have let that one slip, so I took the lead and ran with it.” He pulled out a picture of the doctor. “This is Valente. A respected surgeon in Galveston who volunteered his time to aid in the rescue and recovery missions. The good news is, he recalls the EMT.”
“By name?” Walsh asked.
“If only we could be so lucky,” Palmero replied. “No. Not by name, however, we know he was an EMT and one crucial element the doctor recalled was the man’s uniform indicated it was a facility in Baltimore.”
“Now we’re talking,” Nick said.
“Exactly,” Palmero replied.
“On that note, something hit yesterday, and it looks like now is the opportune time to discuss it,” Duncan added. “Riverside.”
“Ah yes, the Riverside Field Office,” Palmero interrupted.
“You got it.” Duncan pulled up in her chair. “Reid and I had a brief discussion on this as well, so I reached out to your contact in Riverside and spoke to him about his probable witness.”
“Wait, we have a witness?” Walsh asked.
“A reluctant witness,” she added. “The man who came forward is here illegally. He’s essentially asked that in exchange for his cooperation, he’ll be guaranteed a green card.”
“He won’t help us find a killer until he gets a green card?” Nick asked.
“That does seem to be what he’s asking for and the agent in Riverside asked if we could make that happen,” Duncan added.
“Here’s the thing,” Kate began. “We need this Riverside witness. If we can get Dr. Valente in Oakview to meet with a sketch artist, we can find out quickly if we’re dealing with the same person. It would, without a doubt, connect the two cases and we’d have a face.” She looked to Fisher. “The question is, can we make that happen?”
“Getting a guy a green card?” Fisher shook his head. “I have no idea. As you all know, that is absolutely not our department.”
“I might know someone who ca
n help if that’s how you want to proceed,” Nick said. “It won’t be a quick process, though. If the man won’t cooperate until he gets a card, we’re screwed.”
“If you think we can do this,” Duncan began. “Then I’ll inform the Riverside agent, or Palmero can, if he prefers, and we can see if he can convince the witness to move forward pending the immigration details. I think that’s all we can do.”
Fisher cast his sights around the room. “Since we have Palmero here, I think the thing to do is have him work with Scarborough and Duncan to get something in writing on the green card. Whoever you know, Scarborough, it might be best to put a local face on the situation. We don’t have the Riverside agent here, but Palmero is working the same case. It might help. I think Duncan will need something to take back to the agent to offer assurances to his reluctant witness. In addition to that, Dr. Valente in Oakview will need to be put in front of a composite artist and come up with something we can use.” He looked to Palmero. “Is there anything else you need to do from here with our help?”
“I would like to sit down with Reid to review her profile.” He looked to her. “Unless you have something we could go over right now?”
“I have preliminary information I’ve compiled for everyone’s review. We can start there.”
“Sounds good,” Palmero said. “Let’s hear what you’ve come up with.”
Kate had been prepared for this. While it was still early in the investigation, she had shared her initial thoughts with Nick and as she peered at him, he nodded for her to continue.
“Okay then.” Kate opened her files and placed photos of the victims on the table. “We’re dealing with an angel of mercy, or angel of death, it depends on your school of thought, but both are essentially the same thing. A person in a position of power over another, specifically in a medical setting. That person then exerts his or her power to bring harm to the victim. Now, there are different types of these particular murderers. Some truly believe they are showing mercy by putting someone who is terminal or otherwise in a great deal of pain to death. Then you have the ones who create a health crisis in a victim only to save that victim to look like the hero.”
“Which one do you think we’re dealing with here, Agent Reid?” Palmero asked.
“The third type, which is the one who exerts power over a victim just to watch that victim die. This person seeks out the most vulnerable. The ones experiencing a crisis that will result in death without medical intervention. Or even precipitate that crisis to expedite the victim’s demise. This person is completely without mercy. He or she has the means, the skillset and the desire to be a god. And, if you’ll note, the victims have been killed through various means. Poison, asphyxiation, medicine interactions. He’ll use whatever he has at his disposal. We will find no consistent pattern among his victims. No commonality.”
“That won’t make it easy for us to find this killer,” Walsh said.
Kate nodded. “So, what else is new?”
9
As the new guy, Theo Bishop wanted to impress his colleagues and the firefighters at the Charlotte firehouse, so he volunteered to cook the night’s meal. Everyone took their turn cooking for the ten or so men and women but the next in line willingly gave up his turn for Bishop.
“I hope you guys like chili. I don’t cook for myself much, but I used to make this for the study group back in med school.” He ladled out hefty portions for everyone. “There’s some cornbread on the counter too.”
“Thanks, Bishop. This looks great,” one of the EMTs replied. “Glad to have you on the team.” The man reached for the TV remote and turned it on. “News okay with everyone?”
“Sure. Maybe there’s a fire we don’t know about yet,” another added with a chuckle.
When all the bowls were served, Bishop sat down in the back of the room.
“Hey, aren’t you eating?” A firefighter asked.
“Chili gives me a bad case of heartburn. I’ll just eat the cornbread.”
“Suit yourself. It is damn delicious, though.” The fireman set his sights on the television mounted on the wall and shoved a spoonful of chili into his mouth. The evening news began to broadcast. “Oh, good. Janine’s on tonight. I like her.”
“You like her ass,” a woman replied.
He creased his brow. “I can’t even see her ass. She’s sitting down!”
“A wrongful death suit has been filed in Baltimore this week by a family who claims an employee of an ambulance service failed to resuscitate their elderly mother. The victim had a history of heart problems and the Emergency Medical Service in Baltimore says it will fight this suit.”
“That figures,” one of the EMTs began. “You do the best you can and you get sued. I mean, can you believe this shit?”
Bishop remained in the back of the room with his eyes glued to the TV. The reporter had already moved onto another story, but her words replayed in his head. “Wrongful death. Lawsuit. Baltimore.” While he couldn’t be certain it was the same woman who ended up as a DOA, it sure sounded like it had been. This was bad. How long would it take for his old boss to find him here? He would be dragged into court. He was sure of it. Then they’d look into his history.
Bishop shot out of his chair and headed into the bathroom.
A co-worker noticed him leave. “What crawled up his ass?”
“Who knows? Maybe he just has to take a dump,” another said.
At the end of the day, Fisher had decided to treat the team to dinner, including their guest, Agent Mitch Palmero. They arrived at a bar and grill in Quantico that was frequented by agents and trainers at the Academy.
“Man, it’s kind of weird all these Feds hanging around,” Palmero said. “I leave my office in Houston and go out and… hell if I see anyone. But here, it’s like you’re surrounded by them.”
Scarborough laughed. “It takes some getting used to.” He pulled out a chair at the table set up for the group.
Kate sat next to him and Palmero took his place across from her.
When everyone managed to find their seats, Palmero began. “I’m impressed by what you’ve come up with so far, Reid. You’re very talented. I can see why Scarborough dragged your ass to Quantico.”
She glanced at Nick. “I wouldn’t say he dragged me here. I wanted to be here and learn from the best.”
The waiter placed glasses of water in front of everyone. Palmero took a sip before adding, “Well, I can only imagine your past experiences must play a role in your current insights. You see these people for who they really are. These killers.”
“It’s what I was trained to do.” She took a drink. “But I can’t deny that what I’ve been through has given me a unique perspective.”
“Kate’s come a hell of a long way,” Nick added. “I don’t think we’d be as good a team if she wasn’t here.”
“I second that.” Walsh raised a hand.
Kate’s eyes were drawn to the television when the closed caption displayed words and a banner scrolled across the screen at the bottom. “Baltimore.”
“What’s that?” Nick asked her.
“The news. Something about a wrongful death suit filed against a Baltimore EMS firm.” She turned to him. “Dr. Valente said the EMT who brought in a victim wore a Baltimore EMS uniform. Don’t tell me that’s a coincidence.”
Palmero noticed the others watching the TV. “What’s going on?” His back was to the wall, but he turned around. “What is it? You see something?”
Kate peered at him. “Some family in Baltimore is suing an ambulance service for wrongful death. That was all it said, but an EMT and wrongful death?”
“Really? Did we just get a break in this case?” Palmero asked.
Kate nodded. “I think we did.”
On return from his first shift with the Charlotte EMS, Bishop sat in the locker room and slipped on his coat. His partner, Desmond Brown, opened the door to his locker and placed his shoes inside.
“You did good, tonight, Theo.
” He pulled out his Nikes and slipped them on. “You handled yourself well. Glad to have you in my truck.”
“Thanks, Desmond. It was a quiet night, but it gave me a chance to get to know the city. It’s best to know a place at nighttime.”
“Cause that’s when all the freaks come out, yeah?” Desmond added.
“You got that right.” Bishop furrowed his brow. “I didn’t see Lucinda tonight. I could’ve sworn she was at dinner.”
“Oh, she was. Got sick or some shit and went home.” Desmond closed his locker. “It’s not like her to bail on a shift. She must’ve been suffering pretty bad. I’m sure she’ll be all right though. Hey, man, I gotta jet. Catch up with you on the next shift.”
“Sure thing, get some sleep.” Bishop noted the sun rising on a new day. He closed his locker and started toward the door.
“Night, or Good morning, Theo,” another of his colleagues said. “Hope you don’t get whatever took down Lucinda. That’s all we need is a virus to take us out, huh?” The man laughed.
“No doubt. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any sick time either.” Bishop waved and walked out into the parking lot. The sun hurt his eyes and he placed sunglasses on his face. His car was easy to spot because it had Maryland plates. As he approached it, the story from the news last night reminded him to get those plates changed. So far, he’d heard nothing from anyone about this so-called wrongful death suit, but an internal investigation would most certainly take place. Chances were good that the chief would tell the authorities it was he who treated the woman.
He slipped onto the driver’s seat and peered through the windshield. “Shit. The registry.” Bishop was on the National Registry and that would be the first place they’d look to pin down his current location. “Damn it!” He slammed the wheel. He’d screwed up and now he needed a way out. It would be days, a week if he was lucky, before EMS Baltimore would track him down. His only saving grace was that the suit was a civil one. Although, that could change on a dime if presented with certain evidence.
