The Cipher

by Maldonado, Isabella

  “There are twenty-seven half siblings spread all over the country,” Fanning said. “Not including the full sister, who lives in Maryland.” He paused a beat. “And those are just the ones who submitted their DNA to the two companies. Statistically, there should be a lot more out there who didn’t.”

  Buxton looked nonplussed. “Twenty-eight siblings total?”

  “The only times I’ve seen results like that are when a sperm donor is involved. But in this case, many of the half siblings are related through mitochondrial DNA, which means they have a common mother.”

  “Egg donation?” Buxton said.

  “To get this outcome, there would have to be both egg and sperm donation, which means—”

  “A fertility clinic,” Buxton finished for him.

  “That would be my guess,” Fanning said. “At least you should be able to track down the biological parents through the clinic’s implantation records and learn the identity of their offspring. I recommend starting with the full sister.”

  “We’ll get right on it,” Buxton said.

  “I have something else for your team as well.” The eagerness in Fanning’s voice promised another juicy lead.

  “Which is?” Buxton prompted, allowing the DCU chief his moment.

  “While we were waiting on the results, we used DNA phenotyping to generate a composite image of the unsub. I’ll email it to you with the rest of our report.”

  This kept getting better. Nina knew the phenotyping process didn’t create a perfect picture of the person in question, but she had seen it come close in several cases. Special software could analyze a person’s DNA to predict characteristics such as hair color, eye color, facial shape, skin tone, freckling, and stature, among other things. At last, they would have an idea of what the Cipher really looked like.

  Buxton thanked him and disconnected. For the first time in days, he smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, we finally have a break in this investigation.”

  Chapter 32

  “Do you need help with your bag, sir?” the cabbie asked.

  The Cipher was always surprised at how accommodating people were to the elderly. A useful human failing. He leaned heavily on his cane. “Thank you, sonny.”

  The heavyset man hoisted the duffel into the taxi’s roomy trunk. “Where you headed?”

  “Downtown.” The Cipher slowed his movements, getting awkwardly into the back of the yellow sedan.

  The driver stood next to the open door as the Cipher fumbled with the seat belt. “Which hotel, sir?”

  He considered how to capitalize on this opportunity. “Is there a homeless shelter downtown?”

  The driver eyed him with overt wariness. “You need a place to stay?”

  “No, no. Not for me.” He dismissed the idea with a nonchalant wave. “I donate to homeless shelters.”

  The cabbie looked relieved. His fare money was not in jeopardy after all. “There’s a few shelters. Some food banks and soup kitchens too.” He sighed. “Seems like there’s always people who need a hand.”

  “Especially women and children,” the Cipher said. “Any shelters just for homeless women and girls?”

  “Sure, there’s one right in the heart of the city.”

  “Then take me to the hotel closest to that, please.”

  The cabbie closed the door and trotted around to wedge his pudgy frame into the driver’s seat. He glanced at his passenger in the rearview mirror. “You one of those folks who gives money to causes and stuff?”

  “A philanthropist,” the Cipher said, deliberately rasping his voice. “Yes, that’s what I am.”

  “That’s real nice. You’re a good man.”

  The Cipher smiled. People believed what they wanted to believe. Saw what they wanted to see.

  As the taxi pulled away from the busy airport terminal, he sat in the back seat, going over his plans. There was another piece of information he needed, but he wasn’t sure if he should risk asking the cabbie. He did not want to be memorable in any way. On the other hand, the man was a font of information. “Have you lived here a long time?” he asked, deciding to chance it.

  “Born and raised.”

  Perfect. He cleared his throat. “I might decide to stay here awhile,” he said. “Is there a part of the city that still has open spaces?”

  “Everything close to downtown is packed in. If you want space, you should look on the north or south side.”

  “Thank you, sonny.”

  He had no intention of checking into any hotel. After the cabbie dropped him off, he would take the bus to the nearest hardware store to buy supplies. Then he would rent an RV and drive it to the outskirts of town to prepare it for his needs. The old man getting off the plane at the airport would morph into someone else, and he would come back into the city tonight to start hunting.

  His pulse quickened at the thought. Everyone in the country was looking for him. He’d given them the perfect distraction. As he’d done so often in his cage fights, he feinted left and jabbed right.

  And no one would see his next punch coming.

  Chapter 33

  One of the cryptanalysts bumped Nina as he scurried past, jolting her coffee from its Styrofoam cup onto Kent’s sleeve.

  She used the tiny napkin from under her cup to dab at his forearm and gave him a sheepish grin. “Everyone’s running around like crazy in here.”

  “No worries,” Kent said, flashing her a smile. “I’m just pleased we all have something to work with for a change. A little chaos is a price I don’t mind paying.”

  The moment Buxton ended the meeting, every team had rushed to separate areas in the task force room to chase down various aspects of the fresh leads they’d just received. The cavernous workspace had been sectioned into areas of specialty. Agents and analysts clustered around tables, charts, and computers as they delved into their respective investigative assignments. The FBI’s substantial resources were being brought to bear on each of the individuals named in the document Fanning had sent them. By the end of the day, they would know everything about each of their backgrounds, down to the names of their kindergarten teachers, their SAT scores, and every place they’d ever lived or held a job.

  In a station set up in a corner of the room, the cryptanalysts were poring over the Cipher’s poem, determined to solve its meaning before he posted it for one of the Scoobies to figure out and snatch the clue before they could. Nina had read the rhyme several times but couldn’t make any headway. Finally, she decided she’d rather spend her time proactively hunting the Cipher instead of playing his games. She walked toward the opposite corner, where a group of agents were running through Breck’s chart with the names of MMA fighters from Sorrentino’s list. Wade and Kent stood with them, using their profiling skills to help whittle the list down to a manageable number for follow-up.

  Of course, once they interviewed the Cipher’s siblings and learned the name of the fertility clinic where they had been conceived, none of this would be necessary. Everything would be in the clinic’s database.

  Breck motioned Nina over to her table. “Come look at this.” She pointed at her monitor. “I took the image we got from Fanning and tweaked it to include some of the facial data points we got from surveillance footage.”

  Nina stepped closer, anxious to finally put a face to the monster from her past. Breck had insisted Nina wait until she fiddled with it, wanting her first impression to be as accurate as possible.

  “Most of his face was covered in every still shot we were able to grab,” Breck said. “I did manage to capture a bit of his jawline in one frame and an idea of cheekbone height in another. Put it all together with the predicted characteristics, and voilà.” She clicked her mouse with a flourish, and a close-up of a man’s face materialized.

  Nina bent to examine the screen closely. A muscular blond man with eyes an indeterminate shade of blue and a chiseled face stared back at her. Her blood chilled. Had she imagined the flatness in his expression, or was that an artifact
of the computer generated–imaging process? Either way, the effect was an accurate depiction of the soulless eyes that had gazed down at her through the holes in the mask.

  For the span of a moment that lasted an eternity, she fell into the depths of those pitiless eyes. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Cracks spiderwebbed across her carefully constructed inner walls as she struggled to hide her reaction. Transfixed, she stared at the Cipher. Her monster. The man who had nearly destroyed her. The beast who had wrenched her apart and exposed her torment to the world.

  Kent rested a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

  She whirled to face him. “Fine.”

  She took a step back, creating emotional and physical distance. His piercing cobalt gaze penetrated her. Kent had a vast amount of experience in the field. He knew how to read body language. She could not afford to have him psychoanalyze her. If he suspected how much seeing the Cipher’s face had disturbed her, he might say something to Buxton or—worse yet—try to comfort her. Throughout her life, she had contended with abuse, neglect, and rejection. These she could handle, but warmth and compassion would undo her.

  She deliberately turned away from Kent to address Breck. “From the little I saw of him, that looks right.”

  Nina felt the weight of Kent’s scrutiny as he kept his attention on her, but he made no further comment.

  Breck bent closer to the monitor and studied the image of the Cipher. “It’s hard to capture evil in a picture, but this guy comes as close as anybody I’ve ever seen. You can tell he’s mean as a snake just by looking at him.”

  Nina didn’t want to spend another moment staring into those cold, cruel eyes. “I’m getting restless. He’s out there planning his next move. We need to make ours first.”

  “I just read the report on the sister.” Wade had strolled over to join them. “Her name’s Anna Grable, and she’s a bit of an enigma. Received a doctorate in physics and another in astronomy, both from Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore.”

  Unexpected. A psycho killer’s sister had a passion for studying outer space. “Where does Anna work?”

  “That’s part of the mystery. She hasn’t held a job for fifteen years. She’s never been married or had kids, and she lives alone on a ten-acre parcel in the suburbs of Baltimore that she inherited from her parents.”

  “What did you find out about the parents?”

  “From what we can gather, the mother has no record of having given birth to any children. It’s possible that the sister is a result of an in vitro fertilization of a surrogate mother, but we can’t be sure at this point.”

  Nina was perplexed. “A legal adoption?”

  “None that we can access so far. Buxton’s prepped local field agents in every city where there’s a subject with a familial DNA match to conduct interviews,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll find out more once they finish speaking to Anna.”

  Nina chafed at the idea of someone besides her interviewing the Cipher’s only known full sibling. It would be a hard sell for her to go instead of the local field agents, but every cop instinct she possessed told her this was the fastest path to the truth about her quarry. “I want to interview Anna Grable in person. If I see her, something about her might trigger a memory. Baltimore’s about a two-hour drive from here, so it will cost us the rest of the day, but I think it’s worth it to put eyeballs on her.”

  “I want to go with,” Breck said. “I can take pictures of her head from every angle. Since she’s a full-blooded sister, her underlying facial structure might help refine the imaging process.”

  “She’s the best lead we’ve got.” Nina leveled Wade with a determined stare. “I’m going to ask Buxton to let us conduct the interview.” She emphasized the word us. “I’ll request an FBIP driver and one of our fleet vans so we can keep working on the road. Will you back me up?”

  The FBI Police unit stationed at Quantico was normally tasked with facility protection but could be detailed for other assignments as needed. She was asking Wade to trust her instincts. Asking him as a partner rather than an adjunct to his investigation. His response would tell her more about the working relationship they had forged than anything else he’d said up to this point.

  He regarded her for a long moment, then turned toward Buxton’s office as he responded to her question over his shoulder. “Grab your briefcase.”

  Chapter 34

  Nina had vacillated between edgy anticipation and utter boredom during the two-hour ride to Towson, Maryland. Buxton, opting to hold down the fort at Quantico, had arranged for the team to travel in a Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van outfitted with enough technical gadgetry to bring a smile to Breck’s lips. Their driver, an FBI police officer Nina recognized from ID checks at the entry gate to the grounds at Quantico, was ensconced in the partitioned driver’s compartment up front. He eased the van to a halt in front of a midcentury rambler on a spacious chunk of land, waiting with the vehicle as the team traversed the gravel driveway to the front porch.

  Nina lifted her hand to knock when the door flew open. A slender woman with pale eyes and stringy blonde hair stood on the threshold. She wore a floppy knit cap, an oversize cotton top that fell to her knees, and Birkenstocks on her brightly stockinged feet.

  Nina held up her creds. “Special Agent Nina Guerrera, FBI.” She gestured to the group standing behind her. “Special Agents Wade, Kent, and Breck. Are you Anna Grable?”

  The team had agreed that Nina would initiate contact this time. Judging by the woman’s fearful reaction, it had been a good call. The sight of Kent standing directly in front of her might have made her faint.

  Her wide, anxious eyes darted to each of them in turn. “I’m Anna, and I know why you’re here.” She stood aside and motioned them in.

  After exchanging bewildered glances, they trooped through the foyer into the living room. A mustard-yellow sofa with the backrest covered in a crocheted throw and two mismatched armchairs surrounded a burled wood coffee table that was the height of stylish good taste. In 1967.

  Nina sandwiched herself between Kent and Wade on the sofa while Breck perched on one of the wingbacks.

  “You say you know why we’re here?” Nina asked. If an interviewee volunteered information, she made it a practice to let them talk.

  Anna took the remaining armchair. “You don’t have to pretend. I’ve been expecting you.” She gave them each another perusal, this time much slower. “I have to admit you all have done a good job. The dark suits give you away, though, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  “Suits?” Wade asked.

  Anna gave him a knowing wink. “You should try blue jeans and a button-down shirt next time. Maybe plaid or paisley. You’d blend right in.”

  Nina had the feeling they were speaking at cross purposes. “Ms. Grable, exactly who do you believe we are?”

  “You might as well call me Anna. No sense in pretending you don’t know everything about me.”

  “Anna,” Nina tried again, “why don’t you go ahead and spell it out for us? Pretend like we really don’t know what you mean.”

  Anna blew out a long sigh. “I get it. This is some sort of test. You want to know if I’ve figured it out.” She leaned forward, carefully enunciating her words. “You are from the Pleiades. We have met before on at least twelve occasions, but this is the first time you’ve visited while I’m awake.” She sat back in her chair and gave each of them a satisfied smile.

  Nina shot Wade a look. He and Kent were the headshrinkers, not her.

  Wade took the hint, adopting a patient tone. “Anna, we are FBI agents. We do not come from the Pleiades, we are from Earth. We need to ask you some important questions.”

  Anna frowned. “There’s only one way to be sure.” She stood. “Follow me into the kitchen. I can sterilize a knife and—”

  “No,” Wade said firmly. “You cannot cut us. We need your cooperation for an investigation.”

  “An investigation,” Anna said, sitting back down. “Is that what you’
re calling it these days?” She let out a huff. “I won’t believe you unless I can perform a few experiments of my own. Let’s see how you like being probed.”

  Anna had managed to obtain two doctorates but had come loose from her moorings and gone adrift somewhere along the way. Nina wondered about the Cipher. Did crazy run in the family?

  Wade tried again. “Anna, we need to know about your background. Were you adopted?”

  Anna’s cackle was derisive. “As if you didn’t know.”

  Kent, who was sitting closest, leaned toward her. “Please, Anna, this is very important. Tell us what you know about your parents and where you were born.”

  She turned to him with a conspiratorial smile. “You’re here because you’re in my bloodline. I’m descended from the Nordics, you know.” She clasped her hands neatly in her lap. “The Grays had nothing to do with it.”

  Nina was lost. “Anna, what are you talking about?”

  She pointed to Kent. “He can tell you.”

  If Anna thought that would clear things up, she was badly mistaken. Nina had been excited to interview the Cipher’s only known full-blooded relative, certain she would garner exactly what she needed to track him down. Instead, she was listening to a crazy woman babble while the clock ticked down. She shot Kent a questioning glance.

  He appeared to be stifling a massive eye roll. “I’ve run across this before due to my . . . appearance.” He pinched the bridge of his nose under the thick black frames of his glasses. “There are people who believe in a race of humanoid extraterrestrials from the Pleiades star cluster who resemble Scandinavians. They are referred to by UFOlogists as ‘Nordics.’” He grimaced. “This is as opposed to the ‘Grays,’ who are small and gray skinned, with large dark eyes.”