Last Word

by Robin Mahle

  “Just having a drink, same as you. I came in a little while ago, actually, and only just spotted you. You here alone?”

  “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend, but she’s late.”

  “Ah.”

  The bartender arrived with her drink. “Nineteen even.”

  Tasha set her credit card on the bar top. “You mind starting a tab?”

  “Sure thing.”

  The man in the shirt and tie took in the scene. “I haven’t been here in a while. This place is packed.”

  “I know. It’s crazy. Took me ten minutes to get my drink. So, anyway, how you been? Where are you at now?”

  “Communications Director for Senator Vaughn.”

  “No. Vaughn, really?”

  “Yep. What about you? Last I heard, you were working on a re-election campaign.”

  “Good memory. I’m actually over at Strattman and Pew now. Better hours and much better pay.”

  “Lobbying? That’s a step up. Good for you.”

  “Thanks. It’s good work if you can get it.” Her attention was diverted when her friend finally arrived. “There you are. I thought you were going to ditch me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tash. I got held up at the office.” She looked at the suit. “Who’s this?”

  “Todd Kemper. We knew each other back at school. Todd, this is my friend, Layla.”

  “Layla? Beautiful name.” He offered his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Can I get you a drink?”

  She looked at Tasha as though asking for permission. Tasha shrugged her reply.

  “Sure. I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

  Tasha began to get the impression that her friends had every intention of leaving together and that time could well be at any moment. She didn’t mind. Todd wasn’t her type and she wasn’t in the market right now anyway. So, after feeling like a third wheel for the better part of an hour, she made the call. “Hey, guys, I’m going to head home. I’ve got an early meeting in the morning.”

  “You want me to walk with you?” Layla asked.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’m only a few blocks away. You two stay and enjoy yourselves.”

  Layla stood and embraced Tasha. “Okay, hon, I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Have fun.”

  “Oh, I intend to.” Layla returned to her seat and to Todd Kemper.

  It didn’t seem possible, but the tiny metro bar was even more crowded and it was almost midnight. It was no wonder nothing ever got done in Washington. Everyone was too busy staying out all night, drinking and partying. But not Tasha. She stayed on the straight and narrow because she had plans. Big plans that meant there wasn’t much time for socializing. She’d made the exception tonight for the simple fact that Layla had begged her to go out.

  Tasha let her mind drift into thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting and how she would have to present and it was kind of a big deal. In fact, she hardly noticed when she nearly walked into a man only minutes from her home. “Excuse me. Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” The man had dropped his phone and reached down to pick it up. “I shouldn’t have been texting and walking. Dangerous habit.” He smiled and tendered his hand. “Jonah, Jonah Jenkins.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Jonah Jenkins. I’m Tasha, Tasha Brenner.”

  “Well, Tasha, Tasha Brenner, you feel like a drink?”

  “I was actually on my way home. I live just there.” She pointed behind him.

  “Oh. It’s entirely too early for bed, isn’t it?”

  She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. His full lips and sparkling smile. Now this was a man she could do with right now. “Yeah, I guess it is. You live nearby?”

  “Just up the road.”

  “Listen, um, my house is literally fifty feet behind you. I’ve got wine, might have some beer.”

  “I could use a beer.”

  The night was shaping out better than she had expected. And while this wasn’t how things usually turned out for her, Tasha wasn’t going to let this one go and she didn’t care what people would call her. He took her breath away. “It’s this one here.” She ascended the steps with her keys in hand and unlocked the door. And as she entered, she turned to him. “I just realized you must’ve been heading back home. What brought you out tonight?”

  “Just going for a walk. I was on my way home, but there’s nothing waiting for me there but an empty room.”

  “Oh.” She smiled and closed the door behind him. “Let me get you that beer.”

  “Thanks.” Jonah examined the home while she walked into the kitchen. “Great place you got here. Lived here long?”

  On her return with two bottles of beer in her hands, she began. “Not too long. Less than a year. I work in D.C. and the commute’s not bad. Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  When he swallowed it down in a single gulp, he set the bottle on the table and reached around her waist. “How lucky am I to have found you tonight.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Oh, I’d say I was the lucky one.” She took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

  The patrol car rolled to a stop in front of the townhouse in the up and coming suburb of Baltimore, Waltham Heights. Its proximity to D.C. and moderately affordable housing made it attractive to commuters, Tasha Brenner being one of them.

  The officers stepped out of their car and approached the home where a frightened woman waited.

  “Did you make the call, ma’am?”

  “Yes. She’s inside. She’s dead.” The woman broke down.

  “Can you show us where she is, ma’am?”

  “Yes. Follow me.”

  “How do you know the victim?”

  “I come and clean her house once a week. I wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, but I tried to call her and ask if I could reschedule.” The woman continued inside toward Tasha’s bedroom. “She didn’t answer and so I was just going to leave her a note. Her door was unlocked and that’s when I knew something was wrong.”

  “Okay, ma’am. Just stay here, please.” The officer entered the bedroom with his partner close behind. “Oh, geez.”

  Tasha lay on the blood-soaked bed, arms and legs spread wide.

  “For God’s sake.” He moved closer, careful not to touch anything, and leaned over her. “GSW to the head. And, there’s something in her mouth.”

  “What is it?” His partner moved in. “Looks like a cloth or piece of fabric. Don’t touch it. We’d better call it in to Homicide.”

  As the elevator doors parted, Agent Vasquez stepped out into the 5th floor common area of the WFO offices. Carrier bag in hand and on a call, she approached her desk while Kate looked on, anxious to get her up to speed on yesterday’s meeting with the BAU profiler. And even more anxious to tell her it was Noah Quinn.

  “I’ll get back with you soon.” Vasquez ended the call and looked at Kate. “Morning.”

  “Morning. Everything all right?”

  “Not sure yet. Jameson in?”

  “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  “That was the Baltimore Field Office. PD found a body and the detective on the case ran markers through ViCAP and got a match to another victim found in D.C. only a few days ago. Anyway, I’m pretty tight with one of the agents in Baltimore and got a call about it.”

  “They want us to take a look?”

  “Two victims, similar signatures, one here and one in Baltimore. They think there could be more coming. That’s why I wanted to talk to Jameson. You got time? We should go see him together.”

  “Let’s go.” Kate followed her toward Dwight’s office. Whatever she’d wanted to say about the Quantico meeting didn’t matter right now. Something else was going on, and she wanted to know what it was.

  “Jameson, you got a second?” Alicia Vasquez was a no-nonsense woman and rarely minced words.

  “Come in.” Dwight’s brow knitted as it seemed he sensed the importance of the request. “What have you got?�
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  She proceeded to update him on her conversation with the agent in Baltimore. Kate listened and waited to see how Dwight would reply. Metro PD hadn’t come to them yet, which was a point of concern. Were they aware of Baltimore’s findings? If so, why the hesitation?

  “Why don’t you put in a call to Metro Police and talk to the detective running the investigation? See if he knows what’s going on in Baltimore and if he wants to request a consult. There’s no denying a link between the two victims and the unique nature of the marker suggests the unsub is fulfilling some sort of vendetta. And based on what you just told me, I doubt the unsub is finished,” Dwight added.

  “Agreed. If I can get an okay from Metro, Reid and I should head over there as soon as possible and get the download on the status of the investigation.”

  “Sounds good. Keep me posted and let me know what they want our role to be. I’ll run it by Campbell.”

  The agents began to leave, but it seemed Dwight wasn’t finished with one of them. “Reid, can you hang back a minute?”

  “I’ll make the call.” Vasquez continued, leaving the two of them alone.

  “I suppose you want to know how yesterday went?”

  Dwight peered at the time. “I’ve waited over an hour and you haven’t said a word. Don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  Kate sat back down. “I can’t really say. I mean, it went well enough. Quinn’s in the early stages of interviewing, so it’s going to be a lengthy process, I believe.”

  “What’s your take? You get any feeling at all how he’s going to lean?”

  “No. None whatsoever. I do know he’s considering candidates with a lot more investigative experience than me.”

  “I’m not surprised. Still, don’t count yourself out. You have certain things working in your favor.”

  “You mean like Scarborough being his boss?”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Dwight. You know that’s got to play on his mind a little. I think regardless of my qualifications, he has little choice but to reject my application. People would talk. And I’ve already been down that road.” She inhaled a slow, deep breath. “I’d hoped to be past that now. I wanted to train based on my own merits, not Nick’s.”

  “It will be, Kate.”

  “I just wish I’d approached him before Nick got the position. Then I’d know for sure. Now, even if I get it, I’ll always wonder if he played a part, and I swear to you, that was the last thing I wanted to happen.”

  “Give this Quinn guy some credit, okay? Whether you get the position or not will be based on your qualifications and recommendations. He has no choice but to display complete transparency or risk the legitimacy of his own career coming into question. Besides, you think you and Nick are the first agents who’ve ever dated? Please. Happens all the time. In fact, I’d venture to say the Bureau encourages it. Leaves less room for outside influences in an agent’s life. Both parties understanding one another’s careers. So, anyway, don’t discount it yet. This is just the first phase, and by all accounts, it sounds like it went well.”

  “I hope so.” She pushed up from the chair. “I’ll check in with Vasquez and let you know if we’re heading out to Metro PD.”

  Detective Phelps had been summoned to the front desk and arrived to find the two FBI agents who’d contacted him earlier this morning. “Agent Vasquez?”

  “Yes. And you must be Detective Phelps. Pleasure.” She gestured to Kate. “This is Agent Reid. We appreciate you clearing your schedule.”

  “No problem. Why don’t you two come back and we’ll talk?” He led the way to his office. “Please, have a seat.” Upon closing his door, Phelps returned to his desk. “After you and I spoke this morning, Agent Vasquez, I did reach out to the detective in Baltimore. Apparently, he wasn’t aware the FBI was watching.”

  “Watching?” Kate asked.

  “Well, Agent Vasquez mentioned she received a call from the Baltimore office of the Bureau, and apparently, the detective hadn’t made any calls to the Feds.”

  “Which is exactly the reason why I made contact,” Vasquez began. “I got the call from the Baltimore field office after they received a report indicating a hit on two separate investigations with similar markers. He reached out to us because the other investigation was here in D.C.”

  “So, you come down to see me and those guys over at the other office, they talk to the Baltimore PD? And then what? You all come in and take over my investigation?”

  “Not at all, detective.” Kate eyed Vasquez noting the man’s sensitivity to the issue at hand. “We’re here to discuss the markers you input into ViCAP, discuss the similarities with the Baltimore investigation, and then work to come up with a conclusive profile of your unsub so you all can continue to work to find the culprit. This is what we do, detective.”

  “While your people sit on the sidelines?”

  “Something like that. We’re here to help. Not to take over.” Vasquez offered reassurances and it seemed Phelps might be falling into line now. “That’s the great thing about the database. We aren’t wearing blinders. We see what’s happening elsewhere and that opens up a lot of resources to spread out and catch the person responsible.”

  “Okay. I can understand that perspective.” Phelps appeared to shed the chip on his shoulder. “I had entered the markers into ViCAP and when nothing turned up, I continued on my own path. Now that something else has, then I am more than willing to share information with you and Baltimore to find the killer. Because I’ll tell you one thing, this person is dangerous. And whoever it is, is hunting people he or she already knows or knows through an acquaintance. These are not random killings.”

  “We couldn’t agree more. Not with that message,” Vasquez said. “So, why don’t you fill us in on the specifics and we’ll do what we can to help complete the picture.”

  Phelps leaned back and puffed his chest a little. “Well, I’ll tell you, I’ve been doing my best to keep this out of the line of sight of the press.”

  “That’s the way we prefer it,” Kate added. “Only causes more problems.”

  “Yes, it does. However, this is due to the nature of the investigation and the fact that the victim was acquainted with a congressman.”

  “How so?”

  “Most people in this city are acquainted in one way or another with a politician. I know she was a member of a congressman’s staff, but not the entirety of her role or how close she was to the head honcho. So, tell me, any idea if the Baltimore victim is connected to politics?”

  Grant Copeland stared through his car’s windshield while he sat on the driveway of his home. The stone exterior was lit by pathway lights leading to the front door. A door he hesitated to pass through. The questions would come, and soon. He would have to tell them how he knew Janine and his wife would learn of his intimate connection to a woman who had been murdered. The fact that this was still a matter of when was largely due to his trusted chief of staff, Phil Vega. He’d been the one to field the questions as Janine was under his charge and Copeland, as far as the police were concerned, had maintained several degrees of separation from her.

  He exited his car and walked along the path toward the front door, opening it to reveal his teen son and daughter slouched on the sofa, headphones on and eyes glued to their phones. His wife was nowhere to be seen, but he suspected she was in the kitchen, given the delicious aroma of food wafting through the home. He hadn’t told her of Janine’s death, and perhaps the best thing to do was to lay the groundwork. Prepare her for the time that was hurtling toward them like a run away freight train.

  The kitchen was just ahead on his right and he continued through, past the staircase, and pushed open the swing door that led into their recently remodeled kitchen. Sue was exactly where he expected her to be, standing in front of the cooktop over boiling pots and sizzling skillets.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  She turned. “I didn’t hear you come in.” Sue approached him and offe
red a tender kiss on the cheek. “Glad you could make it home for dinner. What’s the occasion?”

  “I didn’t feel up to staying late tonight. I wanted to be home with you and the kids.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Not really. Ah, Suzy Q.” With hesitation, he continued. “Over this last weekend, a member of my staff, a woman who worked in media relations—Phil knew her well—she was killed on the side of the road.”

  “Oh my God. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She embraced him. “My God. And you just found out?”

  “Yeah. Just found out today.”

  5

  The key slid into the lock and turned with ease as Kate entered the place she couldn’t really call home but was currently the closest thing to it. Inside, she noticed Nick wearing a broad smile and standing in front of the dining table, arms open wide.

  “What’s this? I didn’t expect you to be home.”

  “I am and I brought dinner.”

  She continued toward him and offered a warm embrace and gentle kiss. “Thank you, but what’s the occasion?”

  “Do I have to have a reason to bring you dinner?”

  “Well, no, it’s just that you don’t often…”

  “I know. But before you moved in, I didn’t have much reason to. Now you’re here and while I didn’t cook the meal, the sentiment is the same. Come on; sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

  “Okay.” Kate sat down and was somewhat confused by this new side of Nick. The man who never cleaned his house, always had a housekeeper, ate from take-out cartons or went to a restaurant. This was not the man she’d known for the better part of five years and had been dating for the past six months. “I’ve never seen you so domesticated before.”

  He sat down and joined her. “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I appreciate the effort. I do. But I also want you to be yourself, Nick. Grand gestures are nice, but we’ve known each other long enough to understand one another. You don’t need to change anything for me.”