by Robin Mahle
It turned out that Carol Bishop also took Dr. Whitman’s name when they married. She was now going by Carol Whitman and was still married to the doctor, who was now retired.
Kate got up from her desk and headed into Fisher’s office, walking in without an invitation. Her mind clinging to a single theory, she could often forget about polite society. “I need to go back to Providence.”
“Why?” Fisher asked.
“I want to talk to Bishop’s mother, Carol Whitman. These people have money. Bishop’s father was a prominent doctor and died from a heart attack at the age of 45. His mother remarried a few years later to the man who replaced Dr. Eugene Bishop as Chief of Surgery. They’re still married.”
“Why didn’t we look into the mother at the beginning?” Fisher asked.
“There wasn’t much point. We knew who we were looking for. We had our suspect.”
“And now?” He pressed on. “What’s your endgame, Reid?”
“I suspect Bishop’s family has a great deal of influence in the community. Money and influence could explain how Bishop was able to slip away. If it was the mother who helped him, I might be able to convince her to tell us where he is.”
“If you’re right about this, the odds his mother would give him up after helping him are slim, at best,” Fisher said. “What could you possibly say to convince her otherwise? This is assuming you’re right and she’s been clearing a path for her son, which I’m not yet convinced of.”
Kate pressed down on the back of the guest chair with her arms. “You said I could pursue this if I could justify my reasoning and it didn’t interfere with anything else that I’m working on. I’m not working on anything else right now. I just need a day to go back to Providence and talk to the mother. You said when I came to you that I needed to be certain. I am certain. She may not know where her son is, but there’s a good chance she knows who he is and what he’s capable of doing. I need this woman on our side, and I know I can get her to help.”
Fisher folded his arms on top of the desk and leaned in. “I’ll give you this one. But you aren’t going alone. Take with you whoever has the time to spare.”
“It’s just a conversation with the mother. I can handle this on my own. Just like before. Will you trust me on this one?”
“It’s a matter of safety, Reid.”
“Do you think this woman will come after me? We know Bishop’s in Mexico somewhere living it up. There’s no threat here.”
“There are no lone wolves here on this team either. Here’s what I would like to propose, then. One of the candidates I’ve been talking to has expressed great interest in filling Quinn’s position. Why don’t we consider this a test run and you can take him?”
“Who is it?”
“Jonathan Surrey from the Denver office.”
Kate considered the proposal. “Are you sure this isn’t just you attempting to send along a babysitter?”
“Reid, you know me better than that. Come on. Give me some credit here. If I have to bring someone on, wouldn’t you prefer it to be someone you can work with? Or do you want me to make this a crapshoot?”
“No,” Kate resigned. “That’s not what I want. Fine. Should I call him, or do you want to?”
Nick shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched Kate gather her things. “And you’re sure this is the direction you want to go?”
She peered at him. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be going. Fisher agreed this is a step in the right direction. I’m right about this, Nick. I can feel it.” She zipped up her laptop bag and pulled on her coat. “It’s a good thing—doing this. And if it helps me get insight into Surrey, then all the better. I want to know what I’ll be up against.”
“What we’ll all be up against,” Nick replied.
“Exactly.” Kate stood on her toes and leaned in to kiss him. “I’ll keep in touch. I promise.”
“You’d better.”
Kate walked out of Nick’s office and headed into the hall. She looked back to see Nick standing in the doorway. “Have a good day.” She waved a final time before leaving.
A cab ride later and Kate waited at the gate for the flight to leave. It was the first flight of the morning after hustling last night to get booked as soon as possible. Agent Jonathan Surrey was due to meet her at the gate but had not yet arrived.
She hadn’t spent more than an hour with Surrey on her consult at his office. Her first impression of him was that he seemed knowledgeable and respectful. Then she went on about her duties and that was that, which was why she had been taken aback when Fisher suggested him as a candidate for Quinn’s job.
“Agent Reid?”
Kate spun around at the sound of her name. “Agent Surrey. It’s nice to see you again.” She offered a greeting. “I’m sure this must feel a little strange jumping into unfamiliar territory.”
“Not at all. I had a chance last night to look over what’s been done on the investigation to date. It’s intriguing,” Surrey replied.
Score one for the new guy. Kate was mildly impressed that he’d done his homework. Although, any self-respecting agent being thrown into a new case would have.
Jonathan Surrey appeared to be in his mid-thirties. She’d wondered how long he’d been with the Bureau. He still appeared fresh and eager, meaning he’d probably been on the job fewer than ten years. In Kate’s experience, agents who had served longer tended to look that much more jaded. She, herself, had only been on the job for five years and she wondered if she had that haggard look.
He was well put-together. Stylish black hair that wasn’t too short. Fit, but not overly built. Something along the lines of average. Smart dresser. He wore a fitted white button-down beneath a casual jacket and tapered dress pants. The black wool overcoat was a nice touch. It was approaching late-October and the weather in D.C. had turned cool. Eh, he’s all right, she thought. What kind of person he would be to work for? That remained to be seen.
“I think our flight’s boarding,” he said.
“Well, I guess we’d better go, then.”
T.F. Green airport was a few miles from the state capital of Providence and the flight had just arrived. The short duration allowed for more small talk between Kate and the man who might become her boss but hadn’t revealed any great insight into him. Opening up to new people wasn’t something Kate was known for. Walls still surrounded her and only a select few had made it past the guard gates. Surrey was not on that list.
She headed to the car rental kiosk and filled out the paperwork. Within minutes, the agents were on the road.
Surrey peered at her from the passenger seat of the rented 4-door sedan. “How did you get the mother to agree to the interview?”
“I asked.” Kate glanced at him as she turned out of the airport. “She didn’t seem reluctant at all, actually, which struck me as odd.”
“In what way?”
“She has to have heard the rumors. The news reports. I’m sure she doesn’t live under a rock. And yet when I spoke to her, she seemed to be casual about the matter.” Kate glanced at him. “What made you interested in throwing your name into the hat for this job?”
“A move to BAU? Isn’t that what we all want?” he asked.
“Not everyone. Have you worked on these types of investigations before?”
“Multiple murders? Not really. Just plain ‘ol run-of-the-mill murders.” Surrey grinned. “Honestly, I was impressed with the work you did for my field office. Agent Brighton couldn’t stop talking you up.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised to hear that,” Kate replied.
“Oh yeah, he’s a talker. A hell of an agent, but given the chance, he’ll talk your ear off and then some.”
Kate laughed. “It took me about a minute to figure that out. But he’s a great guy and a good agent. I’m glad his feelings for me were mutual. Fair warning, things are different when you get to HQ. Quantico is a different beast. There are a lot of politics involved.”
“Like there aren
’t in any field office,” Surrey replied.
“I suppose there are, but it just feels like it’s more of a struggle to get your point across and to get approvals and things like that.” She pulled alongside the curb that fronted the home. “This is it.”
Surrey stepped out and waited for Kate. On her approach, they peered at the home. “Not a bad place to live.”
The sprawling, elegant home was adorned with white columns that led the way to a double-door entrance.
“Not bad at all.” Kate started ahead and reached the door, but before she could ring the bell, it opened. “Oh, hello. Mrs. Whitman?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Special Agent Kate Reid and this is my partner, Special Agent Jonathan Surrey. I spoke with you yesterday about your son?”
She nodded and opened the door to allow them inside. “May I offer you something to drink? Coffee or a glass of water?”
Kate smiled warmly and noted the woman’s appearance. In her late fifties, she had a Helen Mirren quality about her. A cream-colored blouse worn beneath a soft cream angora sweater. Tailored pants that hung perfectly on her slightly full waist. Cream shoes, closed-toed, with a kitten heel. There was no doubt she came from money. “I would love a glass of water,” she replied.
“I could do with a glass, too, thank you.” Surrey followed Kate’s lead.
Mrs. Whitman summoned her housekeeper. “Would you mind bringing us some water, please? We’ll take it in the den.” She looked back at Kate. “It’s a bit quieter in the den. I hope that’s all right with you.”
“Of course.” Kate followed the woman through the foyer past the living room. She looked back at Surrey who stayed a few steps behind.
“Please, have a seat.” Mrs. Whitman gestured to the seating area that boasted four oversized wing-backed chairs covered in a linen fabric and embellished with bronze studs. Two on one side and two on the other. In between was a small round wooden table.
The fireplace with white marble surrounds burned and crackled and was the focal point of the room. Kate felt the warmth envelop her. “Do you mind if I take off my coat?”
“Not at all. Please, let me take that for you.” She took Kate’s coat and looked at Surrey. “May I take yours as well?”
“Sure. Thanks.” Surrey removed his long wool coat. He sat down next to Kate as they waited for Mrs. Whitman to return.
Instead, the housekeeper appeared carrying a tray with crystal-clear glasses of water, each adorned with a wedge of lemon and a full pitcher with ice. She set it on the table.
“Thank you.” Kate reached for a glass and took a sip.
Mrs. Whitman returned and sat down in one of the other winged chairs. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs at the ankles. “You had some questions regarding Theodore.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kate began. “As I’m sure you’re aware, he is wanted in connection with the murder of one of his coworkers, an EMT who worked with him in Charlotte up until a few days ago.”
Mrs. Whitman cast away her gaze. “You’ll forgive me, but it is difficult to hear of anyone speaking about my son doing something so horrendous.” She inhaled a breath and returned her attention to them. “I am aware that he is a suspect.”
“Are you also aware that he fled to Mexico as a result?” Kate waited for her to respond, but her expression hadn’t shifted in the least with this news. “Ma’am?”
“Please, call me Carol. And no, I’m afraid I was unaware of that. I assume that, then, is why you are here? To uncover whether I know the location of my son? Rest assured, Agent Reid, I do not. We have been estranged for some time.”
“I see. Can you tell me when you last spoke to him?” Kate pressed on.
“I don’t recall, but it has been years.” She revealed a smile laced with regret. “Our relationship changed dramatically after I remarried.”
“Of course, you married Dr. Robert Whitman, who was once the Chief of Surgery at the hospital your husband and Theo worked.”
“I see you do know a lot about my family, Agent Reid.”
“I’m simply trying to get to the truth and find your son. I believe he’s become desperate, which is why he fled the country. However, my concern is that he might’ve had help. If you know where he is, Mrs. Whitman—Carol—please help us find him. There have been other murders linked to Theo. Crimes that have not been made known to the public.”
Mrs. Whitman turned serious and held Kate’s gaze. “How many?”
“Five that we know of. Another case is pending.”
A tear fell from Mrs. Whitman’s eye. She blinked it away. “I wish I could help you, Agent Reid,” she turned to Surrey. “Agent Surrey. But I simply can’t. Whatever Theo has done he will have to answer for, but I have nothing to offer in your search.” She stood. “Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have an impending appointment that I need to prepare for.”
Kate stood from the chair. “I understand. If there’s anything you recall that might help us, please don’t hesitate to reach out.” She retrieved a business card and waited for Mrs. Whitman to take it.
“Of course. I’ll show you out.” With the card in her hand, Mrs. Whitman showed them to the door.
Kate heard the double doors close behind them and continued along the path to the car. She unlocked the door and slipped behind the wheel. Surrey stepped in and Kate keyed the ignition. “I had hoped that would go better.”
“She’s a mother,” Surrey replied. “What else do you have up your sleeve, or are we done here?”
“Not nearly. I thought we’d drop in to see Dr. Whitman.” She pulled away from the curb.
“You know where we can find him?” Surrey asked.
With a sly grin, Kate continued, “I might’ve had a peek at the photos on the bookcase. There were at least three that appeared fairly recent given Mrs. Whitman’s appearance.”
“And?” He pressed on.
“They were taken at the Greenley Golf and Country Club. Where else would you find a retired doctor but on a golf course?”
Surrey nodded. “Well, well, Agent Reid. It seems you are as observant as I’ve been told.”
22
While Autumn was in full swing, the daytime temperatures in Providence hovered in the high 50s to low 60s. Still great golfing weather. When Kate pulled onto the grounds of the Greenley Golf and Country Club on a sunny but cool Wednesday afternoon, she expected to see several golfers, likely retirees.
Agent Surrey peered at the parking lot. “Busy place.”
“No guarantees, but I’d say we stand a respectable shot at finding Dr. Whitman here.” She cut the engine and prepared to step out of the car when Surrey stopped her.
“Just so we’re on the same page, you’re hoping there might be some friction between the stepfather and the stepson that you’ll exploit, is that right?”
“That is the goal. Unless you have another idea,” Kate said.
“Nope. Just checking.” He stepped out of the car and followed Kate to the clubhouse entrance.
The porte-cochere led to a set of heavy wooden doors with handles in the shape of golf clubs. The elaborate architecture was Victorian styled as the building and grounds had been constructed in the 1890s.
Surrey opened one of the doors for Kate.
She approached a service desk. “Good afternoon. I was hoping I might find Dr. Whitman here today.”
The man behind the counter looked to be middle-aged and wore a blazer over a polo shirt that was buttoned to the top. He narrowed his eyes. “Might I ask who is inquiring?”
Kate retrieved her credentials. “FBI Special Agent Reid.” She nodded to Surrey.
“And I’m Special Agent Surrey.”
The man glanced between them before turning to a desktop computer to type. “It does look like Dr. Whitman has checked in today. However, that was earlier this morning. I would imagine he has completed his round of golf.” He looked at Kate. “You might find him in the dining area taking lunch.”
Kate glanced around the man toward the rear of the building. “Is the dining area back there?”
“Yes, ma’am. Should I help you locate him?”
“No, thank you. We’ll find him. I appreciate your help.” Kate walked past the desk and glanced over her shoulder at Surrey, who had hurried to catch up.
“I think that might be him there.” Surrey offered a subtle nod in the doctor’s direction.
“Looks like the guy in the picture to me.” Kate continued ahead and approached the man who sat alone with a plate of food that was almost empty. “Dr. Whitman?”
The older man with thinning grey hair and a long face peered up at Kate. “Yes?”
“My partner and I are federal agents. We’d like to speak to you about your stepson, Theodore Bishop.” Kate pulled out a chair. “We don’t want to cause a scene for you, Dr. Whitman. It’s just a few questions and we’ll be on our way.”
Whitman surveyed the restaurant and it appeared that no one had taken any notice. “Of course. Please, join me.” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and returned it to his lap. “If you’re here then I should assume you’ve spoken to my wife, Carol? Theo’s mother?”
“We have,” she replied. “My name is Kate Reid. I work out of Quantico with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. This is Jonathan Surrey, my partner. Dr. Whitman, your stepson is accused of several serious crimes. Murder charges. My team and I have been assisting various FBI field offices in attempt to track down Theo. Unfortunately, he managed to slip out of the country and we now have a solid reason to believe he is currently in Mexico, though his location is uncertain.”
“You think I know where he is?” Whitman asked. “I haven’t seen, nor have I spoken to Theodore in quite a number of years. Carol must’ve mentioned this to you.”
“She mentioned that she hadn’t spoken to him. We don’t mean to waste your time, Doctor, but we believe Theo had help getting into Mexico. We’d like to know if you’re aware of anyone who might offer help to him.”
