Last Word

by Robin Mahle

  “I’ll tell you what, Phelps, do your job and I won’t have to hold off the press. As far as the rest of you go, I’ll keep you informed of any new developments and I suspect we’ll have more once Atherton’s phone records are received. I’m sure Detective Phelps will be more than happy to share that information with us all. I’ll let you all get back to it. Thank you for coming together on this. We’ll continue to make progress.”

  The call ended on an abrupt note. The fact that there were multiple agencies working this case meant that toes were being stepped on and no one was happy about that. Kate had been here before and it was difficult to keep from ruffling feathers. Still, the conversation left her with the continuing feeling that Detective Phelps had an agenda, that he was being less than a team player. The reason for this behavior was baffling, but raised her hackles nonetheless. The first thing for her to do now was to review Janine Atherton’s phone records, for which she’d already put in a request, circumventing the detective. The investigation was being stalled and that was unacceptable. Upon receipt of those records, she would have to decide if sharing them with the detective was in the best interest of the investigation. Right now, that did not seem like the case. So she would let him retrieve the records on his own and keep quiet the fact that she was already working on them.

  Kate headed into the corridor in search of advice and the best person for the job was Dwight. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure, come in. What’s going on?” Dwight pulled his attention from the trance-inducing glow of his monitor and rubbed his eyes.

  “I just got off a conference call initiated by Agent Pearson in the Baltimore Field Office. Both detectives were on the line as well.”

  “Any new developments on the investigation?”

  “I think it was more of a coming-up-to-speed conversation than anything else. Pearson got Brenner’s phone records and noted some unusual activity, but what really drew my attention was the reaction of Detective Phelps with Metro Police.”

  “Is he not cooperating?”

  “He is, but not in a manner I would expect. I’m starting to feel like he’s either not invested or maybe wants to shove this under the rug.”

  “I’m sure his case load is heavy. Not that that’s an excuse,” Dwight continued.

  “No. It’s not that. He’s busy, but so are we all. It’s more like he’s casting a blind eye to the obvious.”

  “And what do you want to do about it?”

  “Honestly? I’d like to go around him, over him, or whatever it takes to get what I need to work on identifying the unsub.” She held off mentioning the records request in anticipation he might make that suggestion himself, thereby letting her off the hook, so to speak.

  “You can’t do that, Kate. That’s not how this works. You know that.”

  “I do.” This wasn’t the answer she wanted, so she would keep her mouth shut on that particular issue. “What can I do then?”

  “Play to his ego. That’s what I think this is. He wants control and between us, the Baltimore Field Office, and Baltimore Police, he doesn’t have it. Go visit him. Ask what you can do to offer assistance. You might be surprised. He might just pull you into his inner circle, let you run on things.”

  “Someone’s out there murdering young women and we don’t know if that person is done yet and I have to play to some local cop’s ego? That’s bullshit.”

  “That’s the game.”

  There was no arguing with him because he was right. While she hadn’t come across Phelps’ type before, she’d heard stories from her colleagues. “Okay. I’ll play the game. I’ll kiss his ass and do whatever he wants. But when I get a solid profile, I’m done with him.”

  “Fair enough. Though I doubt that’s a statement you’ll follow through with. It’s not who you are.”

  She finally stood. “Yeah, well, cops like that? They tend to change your perspective.”

  “Hey, before you leave, what’s going on with the second round? You hear anything yet?”

  “No. Should be in the next day or two. I’ll let you know.”

  With his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, Noah Quinn keyed the command and waited for his email to open. “Here it is. I see it. Thank you, Agent Jameson. I appreciate your help.” He ended the call and placed his phone on his desk, never taking his eyes off the monitor, which now displayed the much-anticipated email. He’d requested additional information regarding one of his most promising candidates, and her boss had just delivered. With only days left in which he’d agreed to further narrow the field, he wanted to know what she was working on at the moment and it seemed a fairly interesting, if not slightly convoluted, case. His goal was to gain greater insight into her approach to field work. With a stunning letter of recommendation from her current supervisor, SSA Jameson, he needed more, so he began to dig into the Janine Atherton investigation based on Reid’s latest report handed off to Jameson yesterday.

  According to the report, Reid had been compiling data to develop a profile on a killer who’d shot two women in two different states in the head, then proceeded to shove a piece of fabric into their mouths with the word “Whore” written on it. This was interesting to Quinn because the markers clearly indicated it was the same unsub, however, the means by which this individual took the lives of these women were markedly different. One in her home and one on the side of a road. The former suggested intimate knowledge of the victim, whereas the latter suggested a random act, were it not for the note.

  Of particular interest to him were the notes from Reid herself, indicating because the victims both worked for the same person, albeit several months apart, that this person could either be a target of revenge or an active participant in the murders. This was interesting because these assumptions were so polar opposite to one another that it showed him her willingness to consider every possible scenario. Not to mention that the person with whom those women worked was a congressman. And to suggest his involvement opened up a whole new can of worms that it appeared she cared little about.

  He leaned back in his chair. “It appears there may be more to you than I originally believed, Agent Reid.”

  Representative Copeland sat behind his desk, studying the phone records he’d just received from Detective Phelps. It seemed Phelps might turn out to be an ally after all. One who wanted a reward, but it would be well worth the price.

  Janine Atherton’s phone history for the past sixty days made it to his inbox about an hour ago, after what Phelps described as a confrontational call between the law enforcement participants. While there was little Copeland could do to alter the records, he could at least be prepared to answer questions regarding them. His number appeared multiple times, too many times, and at hours well outside of business. How would he address this when the time came, because it would come—and soon. He considered that it was time to bring Phil in to discuss his options without revealing more than he should, although Vega had known about the affair—at least, this one—and he was a loyal man who had kept his mouth shut.

  With the press of a button, he rang the line. “Phil, can you come in here, please?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The profound sigh that followed suggested he knew this would not be an easy conversation, but Copeland was in deep this time and couldn’t afford to take this on alone.

  Within minutes, Phil knocked on his door.

  “It’s open.” He waited for him to enter. “I’m not taking you away from anything, am I?”

  “No, sir. It’s fine. What can I do for you?”

  “We’re going to need to consider damage control on this Janine situation, as you previously stated.” While he was still shaken by the event and had cared for her a great deal, he couldn’t allow Phil to pick up on that fact, even if it made him appear heartless.

  “I’d say it’s a good idea to pull our story together. Both with regard to Janine and to the latest victim, Tasha Brenner.”

  “Of
course. And Tasha as well.”

  “If we’re going to do this, then I need to know the whole story, Grant. No half-truths, no falsehoods. I have to be prepared for any question that may arise. Having said that, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what your relationship was with each of these women?”

  Copeland was prepared and began to relay what he believed Phil should know. However, he left out a few minor details that, were they ever revealed, would certainly label him a deviant, and he realized with both women gone, there was no chance of that ever getting out. A small measure of comfort in this appalling scenario.

  And as he continued to uncover the depths of his relationships, he watched as Phil’s expression changed from a man who had once admired him to a man who appeared repulsed by him. Perhaps he had made the wrong call. “So? How do you think we should approach this?”

  “And it’s just been those two? Grant, I need to be sure there aren’t any more out there. First of all, because there’s a killer on the loose and we have no idea if this is just coincidence or if someone is looking to get revenge on you. If it’s the latter, we need to let the police know there could be another potential victim.”

  “We can’t go to the police, Phil. You know that as well as I do. There aren’t any others, okay? It was just them. I made mistakes, I’ll admit that. But I never wanted any harm to come to those poor girls. They deserved better. But they’re gone and I can’t help them. All we can do is protect the seat. I have to keep my seat.”

  “Of course. You say you called Janine on the night she was killed?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can spin that. She was at the event. She helped organize it and got you there. It shouldn’t come as a surprise the two of you spoke during the day.”

  “And later that night?”

  “Right. But that only takes care of the one time. You’re telling me there were several instances you called and/or texted her over the past few months, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think the first thing we need to do is establish your alibi. I’ve spoken with the detective and he didn’t seem interested in talking to you—just yet. But you need to give me a clear picture of what you were doing that night. And I know you weren’t in Baltimore when Tasha was murdered. So we can easily establish that.”

  Copeland knew the detective wasn’t going to request an interview for as long as he could possibly hold it off, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to come clean to Phil. “I appreciate you keeping the detective at bay and handling this. I suspect there will come a time when that won’t be the case, but for now, I’ll tell you that I was with Janine after the charity event. We met at a hotel and she stayed with me until about 3am. I didn’t hear from her after that.”

  “Is there anyone at the hotel I need to talk to, then? I’ll have to nip this in the bud and make sure we can get the story straight.”

  “I checked in under another name.” Copeland noted his exasperation. “What else could I do? I paid cash too. There’s no way I’d use my real name.”

  “Then we have no official alibi. Unless of course whoever checked you in happened to remember your face.”

  “You know where I was and when. Isn’t that good enough for now? Aren’t we just trying to establish a timeline here? No one else is asking and we’ll have to take that for what it’s worth right now.”

  “Look, I’ll be honest with you, Grant. I’ve been with you for a long time. I consider you a friend. But I’ll tell you, I didn’t expect this.”

  “I know I let you down.”

  “Not just me. Your wife and your kids. You know what’ll happen if this gets out and, frankly, I’d be shocked if it didn’t.”

  “I do know. I’ll lose everything. In a split second, everything will be gone. So what can you do to help me prevent that?”

  “I’ll do the best I can to placate the detective, but the FBI is involved too. They won’t be as easily persuaded.”

  9

  Diversionary tactics only worked for so long before suspicions were raised. And Kate was a woman in whom a certain level of cynicism existed in permanence. So when she’d begun to feel that Detective Phelps was operating under a different agenda than the rest of them, her skepticism kicked into overdrive. This was especially true today, when he’d promised to send her Janine Atherton’s phone records and had again come up with an excuse as to why he hadn’t. She’d put in the same request under the FBI’s authority but wanted to understand if Phelps would cooperate, and she’d just received her answer.

  Rather than accept this, Kate, as usual, took matters into her own hands. If this detective thought he could out maneuver her, he was sorely mistaken. She had more resources and greater means by which to obtain the required information. Having made more than a few friends at the Bureau, she called upon one of them who willingly gathered the records that she was now reviewing. After all, her team was officially part of the investigation whether Phelps agreed with it or not.

  “Those calls that Pearson was talking about on Brenner’s phone; you have those numbers?” Kate leaned back in her chair to get Vasquez’s attention.

  “I thought you had these already. Hang on. Let me forward this to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  ‘You finally get Atherton’s records?” she continued.

  “I did. With no help from the detective. I’m telling you, something’s up with that guy. Like he’s working really hard to keep this case close to his chest.”

  “Sometimes these local cops are that way. I just sent you the file.”

  “Thanks. I understand that, to a point, but come on. This is on the verge of obstruction, if you ask me.”

  “Recommend he be taken off the investigation.”

  “No. Not yet. The last thing I need right now is for the whole of Metro PD to boycott me because I crossed one of their own.”

  “You’re probably right about that. Like this job isn’t hard enough. Then you get some prick who refuses to share information. We’re all after the same thing here.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I seem to be wrong. I just got the file. Thanks.” Kate opened Brenner’s records and began to cross-reference the numbers with Atherton’s. According to Pearson and the conversation they had yesterday, several unknown numbers appeared over a course of about seven days and at the same time. These were the numbers she had hoped to find on Atherton’s records. However, the only ones she’d been able to identify were Copeland’s calls. While Atherton had worked for him, it seemed out of the ordinary for him to have called her so frequently and at such odd hours. For the type of job she had, it appeared unusual and fueled Kate’s already growing suspicion of the direction this case was headed, which was straight into the abyss.

  She continued to study the calls and created a list of numbers on which she would follow up. Uncertain of who Janine Atherton was seeing at the time, any boyfriends, past or present, still needed to be vetted and ruled out as possible suspects. Something she doubted Phelps had completed as of yet, regardless of his insistence he was working on the matter.

  Another number had appeared almost as frequently as Copeland’s. “Hey, Alicia, have you identified this number on Brenner’s records?” Kate wrote it down on a sticky note and handed it to her. “This shows up on Atherton’s phone fairly frequently. It’s possible it belongs to a family member, which would explain it, but I want to rule out Brenner’s records first.”

  “Sure. Let me take a quick look here.” She began typing her search parameters. “Okay, let’s see what she’s got.” The search was running and within seconds, they had their answer. “Yep. This number does appear, and these records only go back six months, but it’s on here about ten times. I’d say that’s a fair amount.”

  “When was the last time it showed up?” Kate asked.

  “Looks like last month.” She turned to Kate. “You want me to run a check on the number?”

  “Yeah. I think we need to know who this person is.
We might have something here.”

  “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Thanks. Listen, I need to run downstairs to CID. I won’t be long.”

  “What have you got going on with those guys?”

  “Just need to talk to Agent Fraser.” Kate was already walking away. “Let me know when you’ve got information on that number.”

  The third floor of the WFO housed the Criminal Investigation Division, or CID, and a colleague who had recently been involved in the exposure of a massive cover up of a domestic terror attack some seven months ago. He was the one who she could ask to complete this very sensitive task with little in the way of prying eyes. Not that he’d been given carte blanche, but he was given a whole lot of extra rope as of late, thanks to his work on that investigation.

  It also brought back to mind the surprising reunion with Will Caison, a man she had not seen since her training at the Academy. He’d been there for a meeting with SSA Fraser, and the two had run into one another in the lobby. The surreal moment was still fresh in her mind, though several months had passed.

  In hindsight, she wished things hadn’t gone down the way they had with him. He deserved better, but she wasn’t in the right place then. It had been too much, too soon and he paid the price for it. Still, she was happy to have seen him that day and knew he was back in Washington, working at FBI Headquarters. It was unlikely their paths would cross again, at least as far as their work was concerned. However, the intelligence community was tight and hung out in a lot of the same places. So maybe someday she would take him up on his offer to meet again.

  The elevator doors parted and Kate entered the CID. This division was by far the largest in the Bureau with the most field agents and far exceeded the number of BAU agents. She supposed that made sense, though, considering it encompassed far more crimes than her division did. And that was something for which she was glad because if there were more people out there like the killers she had tracked down during her short tenure at the Bureau, it was unlikely she’d still be here. There was a high potential for burnout at the BAU. The human eyes can only witness so much pain, devastation, and horror.