by Robin Mahle
“Some time apart, though, is that right?”
“Yes. Roughly five months or so apart. Atherton was brought on just before Copeland won re-election. What remains unclear was whether Brenner terminated her consulting agreement or had it simply come to an end when the election was over and she went on her own to pursue a career as a lobbyist.”
“That’s what we should be looking into, wouldn’t you agree?” Kate continued.
“Look, Agent Reid, the last thing I want to do is start dragging Representative Copeland into two murder investigations. I don’t want the media circus and I’m betting you don’t either. I say we leave Brenner to Baltimore PD and the rest of your team. The best thing for us to do right now is to keep the investigations separate until we can absolutely and without a doubt connect them to Copeland in a way that would confirm illicit involvement in no uncertain terms.”
“I’ve had my share of run-ins with the media, detective. We know how to handle them.”
“I’m sure you do, but not when it comes to politics and not in this town. Trust me when I say you don’t want that kind of attention.”
“Then what do you propose we do? How do we find Janine’s killer?”
“I need your help to get a handle on the nature of the suspect we’re looking for. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“Yes.”
Phelps joined her at the table. “Good. The roommate gave a statement indicating Atherton had been at a fundraiser Copeland also attended. I reached out again to his chief of staff, a man by the name of Phillip Vega, and he confirmed his attendance as well. He also confirmed he left before she did.”
“And have you spoken to Copeland at all regarding any of this?”
“I’ve asked Vega to verify with the congressman what time he left and whether Atherton was still there. I’m waiting to hear back.”
“What about a boyfriend? Was she alone at this event?”
“She was alone. Roommate says she didn’t have a boyfriend, which for an attractive young woman, I find hard to believe.”
“I’m sure her job must’ve kept her too busy to enjoy a flourishing personal life. It happens.” Kate had begun to sour on this detective. Wanting to protect, at perhaps the cost of the investigation, a congressman, then throwing out antiquated ideas that a woman should of course have a boyfriend or husband, regardless of her career status.
Phelps glossed over her comment and continued, “Anyway, I was about to follow up with Vega.”
“And if you don’t get an answer?”
“Then I’ll talk to others who attended the event. Find out who talked to Atherton and when and if anyone saw her leave. But what I’d like from you, Agent Reid, as your primary reason for being here is to help formulate a profile on the killer, is to get a history on the men in Atherton’s life. I think the more we know about who she dated, her personal record with men, we’ll learn if any of them had a proclivity for violence.”
“And where would that leave us with Tasha Brenner?”
“I’m not running that investigation, but I would suggest getting word to your cohort and have her run on the same thing. We might find an overlap. D.C. is a small town. You’ll find that out real quick.”
Phil Vega approached the congressman’s office and stood in the doorway. “Excuse me, Grant?”
Copeland peered over his glasses and pulled them from his face. “Phil, come in.”
“I wanted to discuss some developments in Janine’s investigation.”
“Close the door, then, would you?”
He shut the door behind him and headed toward a chair, sitting down as though weighed by a tremendous burden.
“Before you begin, I’d like to apologize for my behavior the other day. You didn’t deserve the harsh words. It’s just, well, it still doesn’t seem real to me that she’s gone. And looking at you now, I feel as though more troubling news is on the horizon.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Spit it out.”
“There’s been another murder. A woman who worked on your last campaign.”
“What? Who was she and when did this happen?”
“Tasha Brenner. Her body was found the day before yesterday in her home.”
“For God’s sake. What the hell is going on here?” Masked in bewilderment, he continued, “How do they know this is related to Janine or to me, for that matter?”
“There’s something I haven’t told you. With both of them gone, I have to say that the reason they believe the murders are linked is because, well, they both worked for you.”
Copeland’s mouth hung open. “I didn’t kill them.”
“Since Tasha Brenner was found in her home in Baltimore, the local authorities are working the investigation there, but from what I understand, after receiving an update from Detective Phelps, the FBI has now been brought in.”
“Why is that? How is this an FBI matter?”
“The manner of their deaths. The connection between the two women could well mean it’s the same killer and the murders crossed state lines, meaning the Feds are coordinating with Metro Police and Baltimore Police. Grant, I don’t think I can hold them off. They’re going to start asking questions.”
“Because they both worked for me.”
“Yes. Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything at all that would help me get out in front of whatever concerns they throw our way.”
He considered the question but couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth. “No. Nothing I can think of off-hand.”
Phil looked at him, appearing uncertain of how to gauge this ambiguous response. “I’ll do my best to continue to field their calls, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold them off. As soon as they sign the registration books for an appointment to meet with you, the press will find out. They’re public record. And the last thing we want is for them to start asking questions too.” He stood.
“Thank you, Phil. Your loyalty means everything to me.”
“I don’t know if loyalty will be enough this time.”
Copeland watched as he left without another word. This latest news dealt a devastating blow. And this was much more than a mere coincidence. Phil knew it. It was written all over his face. Someone was coming after him. And now the FBI was involved? This was turning into a nightmare and he didn’t know how to wake up.
How long would it be before the authorities discovered he’d had affairs with both of those women? The affair with Tasha had been fleeting and meant little to him, but it appeared to have cost her her life—the same for Janine, a woman he might have left his wife for—maybe. Now he would never know because she was gone too.
But the real question remained: who else knew about these affairs? And if this person knew about both of them, what about the others?
In the quiet space of Nick’s apartment, Kate curled her legs beneath her and continued to study the files on her laptop. It was the one thing she missed living alone; being alone. The solitude and the quiet gave her a chance to think and she was taking full advantage of the fact that Nick hadn’t arrived home yet. Apparently, something had come up on an investigation his team had been working on and so he stayed with them.
She continued to peruse the Atherton file in search of who might have taken the woman’s life. It seemed unlikely to her that it was a former boyfriend, though the detective appeared to be leaning that way. Kate had been involved in enough BAU investigations to understand when they were dealing with a vengeful boyfriend or a cold, calculating serial killer. To her, this one fell in the latter category. But she was there to help and if the detective wanted the boyfriends vetted, then she would do so. What she really wanted to know was who was watching Janine that night at the fundraiser, because without a doubt, someone had been. And letting the congressman off the hook at this stage of the game wasn’t the right thing to do, and this perhaps weighed the most on her mind.
According to Vasquez, Tasha Brenner had had sexual relations with someone prio
r to her death who had yet to be identified, though they were uncertain this person was the killer. It appeared no DNA had been left behind, suggesting protection had been used. The forensics team was still pulling prints from her house and searching for fibers. No signs of assault were evident on the body, with the major exception of the bullet to the head. So Vasquez was working to discover who was last seen with Brenner while Kate ran on who Atherton had been with in the past. She didn’t expect to find a connection. Neither woman suffered more than the gunshot, which would’ve killed them almost instantly. This suggested to Kate that the killer wasn’t motivated by hatred. Disgust, perhaps, considering the note, but hatred would have been evident in the form of physical abuse. She’d seen it plenty times before. So that lead her to another question. If the killer wasn’t motivated by hate, could it have been money and the note was simply meant as a distraction—a red herring? That seemed more likely.
She’d begun drafting her notes, creating a profile of the killer that would help point them in the right direction. The courses she’d taken at Quantico over the past few months taught her how to organize her thoughts. Make a list of personal attributes gathered from the unsub’s behavior at the scenes.
Not only that, but draw conclusions based upon social demographics they knew thus far. Locations of the crime scenes—both in the vicinity of Metro D.C. While there were a high number of homicides in D.C., the targeting of these individuals suggested the killer could also be involved in the political world, as the victims had been. Most likely, a male, twenties to thirties, given the age of the victims, although it was still a bit of a leap to assume the man Tasha had sex with before she died was the killer. CSI should determine if there was DNA left from other previous visitors. But for now, the assumption had to be that the unsub was a male.
They were still in the process of constructing the sequence of events for each homicide, meaning a full assessment was still unattainable. However, that information would become the cornerstone on which Kate could build and complete her profile. And she would continue to pursue the angle of personal contacts, boyfriends, friends. At the very least, this could establish Janine’s own pattern of behavior, and if that could be done, it was entirely possible the killer saw that pattern and used it against her.
Keys rattling in the door lock diverted her attention. She turned to see Nick enter. “You’re home.”
“Hey.” Nick appeared relieved, as though he’d just seen water after trudging through the desert. “Sorry it’s so late.” He made his way to the sofa and kissed her on the cheek. “I see you’re still up and working away.”
“I met with the Metro PD detective in charge of the Atherton investigation. I’m trying to develop a profile.”
“Oh yeah? Anything new?”
“Not really. Alicia is working with Baltimore and she’s come up with a few things to help round out the profile, but nothing of great significance. Not yet. Hey, did you eat?”
“Had some pizza at the office. Late night working on a serial rapist investigation.”
“I remember you were talking about that one.”
“It’s picking up steam and we’re trying our damnedest to find the person responsible. I’d venture to say Quinn’s the best in his field. Developed a comprehensive profile the likes I’ve never seen. You’d do well under him.”
Nick was her biggest advocate and never failed to slip in a word or two about her future internship, as it were. “I’m glad you’re getting along well with your new team.”
“It’d be better if you were there, but we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Yes, we will.” She stood from the couch. “I could use a break. You want to grab a drink and sit outside for a while? It’s a clear night and the moon’s shining on the water. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” He headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab the wine and glasses. You go on out.”
Kate pulled open the sliding glass door and felt the breeze on her skin. She’d finally acclimated to the weather and a sixty-degree summer night no longer felt cold. Which was about what it was tonight. She stretched out on the lounge chair and closed her eyes.
Moments later, Nick’s fingertips slid along her arms and her eyes flicked open again. It had been an adjustment, not seeing him at work every day, but it made moments like these all the more precious and meaningful. His eyes conveyed his love for her and she loved him in the same way, never truly believing that was possible. But there was no denying it.
Nick was far from perfect. He still drank too much, was pigheaded as hell, and put more pressure on himself than anyone she knew, except maybe for her.
“Here.” He handed her the glass and made a spot for himself on her lounger. “I missed you today. I miss you every day, but especially today. The way we could read one another and play off each other’s instincts. The way you can find the minutia in a case. As talented as my team is—and they are without a doubt—it wasn’t the same as having you there. It’s like a rush of adrenaline when we get a break, you know? I guess I was more addicted to that feeling than I thought I was.”
“We do make a good team. That was never in question.”
“Then what was?”
“My capacity for doing it without you. I needed to know for myself—for my own sanity—that I didn’t need you at my side every day. And that I didn’t need you to pull the strings.”
“You know I had an interesting conversation with Quinn earlier today.”
“Oh yeah?” She sipped on her wine.
“I can see he’s hesitant to bring you onboard, no matter how much he might want to.”
Kate cast her gaze toward the bay. “Because we’re seeing each other.”
“He doesn’t want to be perceived as favoring you over another due to our relationship.”
“So I’m being punished because we’re together.”
“Maybe.” Nick tossed back half his glass in one fell swoop. “And I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. It’s entirely his call.”
“I’m going to be held to a different standard than all the other candidates because you’re his boss and I’m your girlfriend. Goddam it.” She swung her legs over the edge of the lounger and pulled herself up. “I think I’ll go to bed.”
As she began to walk away, Nick followed. “Wait a second—please.” He reached for her arm to stop her. “I wanted to be honest with you and how I see that this could play out. Doesn’t mean it will. I’d like to give Quinn enough credit to see past our relationship and see that you are the most qualified to do the job.”
“But I’m not, Nick. And you know it. The other candidates likely have far more field experience than me. In fact, I’d undoubtedly be one of the youngest members they’ve ever recruited.”
“Quinn’s not much older than you and I’ll bet he faced a similar scenario. Age has nothing to do with it. And it doesn’t mean you’re any less qualified. You can’t tell me any of those in the running have been through the shit you have. Come on. That’s just not possible. And you know as well as I do that gives you an edge. It was horrific and terrible and I wouldn’t wish what happened to you to happen to my worst enemy, but it has made you different than the rest. Better. Whether you want to admit it or not, it has.”
“I can’t keep using that card.”
“It’s not a card. It’s your past, it’s your future. It’s who you are, Kate. And Quinn will see that. Look, I’m not saying he’s already decided. He hasn’t. But he did talk to me and made his point quite clear. Now you’ll just have to make your point clearer. Get him to see what you can do. He’ll soon discover that you don’t need me and, in fact, it’s probably the other way around.” Nick held her gaze. “You know I’m right.”
At this, she cracked the smallest of grins. “You might be.”
He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “See?”
Their lips touched and the heat between them rose as they pressed against one another
. Kate wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her fingers through the back of his hair. Their grip tightened and Nick lowered her back onto the lounger, raising the tank top that formed to her figure above her breasts, and unhooked her bra.
All was forgotten in the heat of their passion, but how long would that last?
7
An assistant to Representative Copeland stood in Phil Vega’s doorway, purse hung over her shoulder and laptop bag in hand. “I’m taking off for the night. You sticking around?”
“For a while longer. Have a good night and I’ll see you in the morning.” He watched the woman leave and noted the silence in the halls. The time had passed 7pm and it appeared he was alone.
A cursory glance into the corridor confirmed his solitude. Lights in offices were off, and in the distance, he heard the low hum of a vacuum. The cleaners had arrived. He returned to his desk and could now get to work on his reason for staying late tonight.
Phil headed into the hall and toward Copeland’s office. It was locked, but he had a key and was the only person Copeland trusted with one. In fact, he was the only person his boss trusted at all.
The flip of a switch lit up the congressman’s office and he closed the door behind him, securing it again as a matter of precaution. The office revealed telling personality traits that underscored Copeland’s agenda. An innovative man, his tastes reflected a forward progression, similar to his political ideology. He also had the advantage of being a younger man, the youngest Virginia’s Fifth District had ever elected to congress. The people wanted fresh ideas and a fresh face. Now that he’d won a second term, he could push his agenda through more easily.
Phil had worked for the man a considerable length of time, going back to his run for state office. Now there was a clear trajectory to his political career that Phil had single-handedly molded from scratch. However, in light of recent events, it was only a matter of time before the authorities would circle back to Copeland and risk all he had accomplished.
