by Robin Mahle
“Be my guest.” Phelps blew smoke near her face as she walked past him.
She waved the others over and Vasquez and Quinn caught up to her.
“What are you going to say to them?” Vasquez asked.
“I’m going to ask them what happened. I need to hear it directly from them. I don’t trust anything Phelps has to say.” She noticed Quinn’s disappointment. Like she should take the detective at face value and accept that it was over. And the killer was dead. But this wasn’t over. Not for her.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Copeland? We met earlier in the week at the police station. Agent Reid.”
Sue was draped in a blanket, even though it was a warm summer night, and held a bottle of water in her hands. “Yes?”
“I’m so sorry about what’s happened. I can’t imagine what you and your husband have just gone through.” She could but was really trying to play up the empathy card. What was even more concerning was that Vasquez peered at her as though trying to figure out what game Kate was playing. This wasn’t a game, but perhaps because of Phelps, she’d suspected everyone of lying and covering things up.
“Thank you.”
“This is Agent Vasquez and Agent Quinn. As you know, we’ve been assisting the Metro Police and Detective Phelps on this investigation. In fact, it was only a short time ago, we discovered your husband owned an apartment in this building. It seems the man who brought you here was very smart.”
“He was a family friend.” Sue began to cry.
“Please. If you need to get statements from us, can it just wait? My wife and I need to go to the hospital.”
“Of course, Mr. Copeland. My sincerest apologies.” Kate nodded and stepped away from the ambulance.
“What is going on, Kate?” Vasquez asked.
“Something’s not right. I mean, I figured they’d be here. We all did, but…”
“But what? That woman saved her and her husband’s life. The man who killed those women is dead. You should be relieved. I know I am.”
“What is it, Reid?” Quinn began. “What’s got you bothered about this?”
Kate peered back at the couple, who were now being escorted inside the truck. “Did you happen to notice any signs of a struggle on her or the congressman?”
“They were wrapped in blankets,” Quinn replied.
“Yes. But she was very calm.”
“What are you getting at?” Vasquez continued.
“No agitation, no visible signs of a struggle to get the gun.” Kate appeared dismayed by the theory developing in her mind. “So Vega just handed it to her? Said, here you go, shoot me?”
“After the brutal attacks on the women, the note; it doesn’t seem to fit the profile.” Quinn cast a brief glance at the ambulance that began to pull away.
“No. It doesn’t,” Kate replied.
“You’re forgetting that he was a family friend. He must’ve felt guilty and pained by what had happened. He must’ve regretted what he’d done,” Vasquez said.
“We can sit here and postulate all night, but what we need to do is get inside and take a look at the apartment. Talk to the CSI team about their theories as to what happened. Talk to Jameson. We can talk to the Copelands later. Hopefully, before the media gets to them,” Kate said.
The elevator doors parted on the eighth floor of the high-rise building in downtown D.C., an exclusive area that housed many government officials and wealthy lobbyists.
“That looks like the place.” Kate gestured toward the unit with the opened door and several officers standing in the hall. She took the lead and made her way toward one of the men in blue standing in the doorway. “Special Agent Kate Reid.” She flashed her badge. “We’re working with Detective Phelps on this investigation.”
“Who you here to see?”
“The lead CSI investigator.”
The officer pointed toward the living room. “He’s over there.”
“Thanks.” Kate walked inside.
“Don’t touch anything.”
She peered back at the officer as though she wasn’t already well aware of that fact. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Cut him some slack. He’s just a kid,” Vasquez said.
“Can I help you?” The lead investigator eyed the federal agents.
“FBI. Reid, Vasquez, and Quinn. Can we ask you a few questions?”
“The Feds, huh? We’ve already got one of you here, somewhere. Anyway, shoot.”
“We’ve actually been working with Detective Phelps. So that’s him? That’s Phillip Vega?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’ll be loading him onto the truck soon.”
“What can you tell us about the incident itself?” she continued.
“You mean, how’d he get shot?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t seen a statement from the victims yet, but we can glean at this point that she took a shot at his face, hit his cheek. Blew off damn near half of it. Realized he wasn’t dead, then managed to get one off in his skull. That did the trick.”
She looked around the room. “Nothing damaged. No signs the victim struggled to gain control of the weapon?”
“None that I can see just yet. According to the detective, the guy was a family friend. Mrs. Copeland must’ve convinced him to give up his weapon. Until we talk to them, it’s just conjecture.”
“Yeah. Listen, thanks for…” Kate spotted the laptop on the table. “Any idea who that belongs to?”
“Nope. We need to bag it and tag it, though.”
“Agent Reid, I think we’re at a standstill until we can speak with the Copelands.” Dwight approached from the hall. “We should let these guys do their jobs.”
“Of course. Thank you for your time.”
“No problem.”
They headed toward the front door and made their way outside.
“What are the odds we can get our hands on that laptop?” Kate stopped on a dime. “What about getting a subpoena for the Copelands’ computers?”
“Why do you want to subpoena the victims’ computers? Especially considering one of them in a United States congressman,” Dwight asked.
“Part of the investigation. Like you said, Vega was a family friend who, I’m sure, was in constant communication with the family and Mr. Copeland, considering his position. We need to know if Vega left any indications of what he was planning or if the communications seemed disturbing in any way.”
“I’d say that would be a reasonable request,” Quinn began. “Problem is getting around Phelps to do it.”
“See, I don’t think so. I think he’d be more than happy to close out this investigation. They got their man. Let Copeland deal with the political fallout, if any. I mean, he’s the victim, right? There were only a few people who knew of the affairs. And most of them are dead.”
“Except Mrs. Copeland. We assume she knew, right?” Vasquez appeared to understand what Kate was getting at. “And there’s the congressman, but I imagine he’ll take as much of that to the grave as he can.”
“That’s where I think he’ll get help from Phelps. Which leaves us to get to the bottom of Sue’s motivations and whether or not she knew of the transgressions or if Vega told her. She certainly knew about Janine Atherton. I can’t speak to the rest.” Kate turned to Quinn. “You’re from headquarters. Can you pull this off? Can you get us a subpoena for that laptop and whatever is in the Copeland residence? It has to happen soon, especially if Phelps has anything to say about it.”
“Jameson will have the same pull as I do.”
“I’d venture to say, given the confrontations of members of my team and Metro’s lead investigator, Reid might be right on this one,” Dwight replied.
Kate held his gaze. “Can you help us or not?”
“Why don’t you get Scarborough to step in? He’s the senior unit agent. I work for him, in case you don’t remember.”
Kate didn’t want to have to rely on Nick for anything and certainly not to grant favors for her, even if it meant s
he could get to the truth. If there was a truth to reveal. And this had begun to feel as though Quinn was testing her again. He was being far too reluctant. “I’d prefer not to involve him.”
He eyed the people standing before him. “Fine. I’ll make the call now. See what I can do. No guarantees.”
The hour was approaching midnight, but the warrant finally came through. Kate stood outside the Copeland residence with her phone against her ear. “We’re here. Quinn pulled it off. We’re getting ready to go inside now.”
“Don’t forget, this is your deal. You own it, no matter the outcome.”
“I know. I don’t know when I’ll be home. We’re going to take the computers, but that’s all. I’ll have to go back to WFO after that.”
“Don’t worry. Do what you have to do. I would.”
“I know that too. I’ll call you later. Bye.” Kate ended the call as Quinn approached.
“You ready to do this?”
“Any word from the Copelands?”
“Their attorney is on his way. Copeland made sure his ass was covered.”
“I’ll bet he did.” She turned toward the headlights that shone in her eyes. “Speak of the devil. Unless you’re expecting someone else?”
“No. That must be the attorney. He’s got the key to let us in.”
“Nice change of pace not to have to break down someone’s door,” Kate said, laughing.
“That takes me back.”
“Oh yeah? Where were you assigned after the Academy?”
“New Mexico, if you can believe that.”
“Really? I hail from San Diego, outside Eureka, originally.”
“I know. I reviewed your file, remember? I know a lot about you, Agent Reid.” Quinn stopped talking as the Copelands’ lawyer approached. “Thank you for coming down, sir. I’m sure you can understand the urgency.”
“No, not really, but I’ll have a chance to argue it in court. You have a lot of nerve doing this, especially when the congressman and his wife are in the hospital. Bet that won’t look good for the Bureau.”
“This is for the Copelands’ protection. Nothing more.”
The lawyer headed toward the front door, key in hand. “Uh huh. I’m sure. There you go. Uh, one thing, though. Nothing leaves this house without my approval.”
“We are authorized to remove computers and laptops.”
“That’s right. And that’s all you’re going to take.”
Kate brushed past the man and into the home that was pitch black. She found a switch in the foyer and a chandelier illuminated. “You guys ready?” She turned back to see Quinn and Vasquez trailing while the lawyer stood firmly in front of the door. “I’ll go upstairs.” She made her way to the second floor and began searching the rooms. “Found one,” she shouted below and unplugged the laptop.
Two more rooms would complete the sweep of the upstairs. Kate headed back down. “Only got the one.”
“I found one in the den. Probably Copeland’s,” Vasquez replied.
Quinn emerged from the living room. “Nothing on my end. These must be the only two here. Unless there’s a secret hiding place.”
“What about the congressman’s office?” Vasquez asked.
“That’s off limits. Government secrets and stuff. No way we’ll get anything there.” Quinn returned to the foyer. “If that’s it, we should go and see what we’ve got.” He headed toward the door. “See? That didn’t take long. The Bureau appreciates your time.”
The attorney stepped aside to let them pass and locked up the home. “Anything you find will also have to be submitted to me and my team for review. You understand that?”
“Yes, sir. Good night.” Kate stepped into her car and keyed the ignition. “I sure as hell hope there’s something here. I have a feeling my ass is on the line.”
Quinn caught her gaze in the rear view as he sat in the back seat. “It is.”
24
A few stragglers lingered at the WFO upon their return, among them, Dwight and ASAC Campbell, both of whom were conversing in the dimly lit bullpen when the elevator doors opened.
“We’re not alone.” Kate looked to Vasquez. “I have a feeling this is now a high priority for the Bureau.”
Campbell spotted their arrival and a notable look of concern shrouded his face. “I hope you all know what you’re doing. I thought you were one to toe the line, Reid, but it appears I might have been wrong in that assumption. You realize the pressure you’ve just put on this department?”
“I’m simply doing my job, sir. Covering all the bases and I didn’t think that would be a point of contention.”
“Oh, it isn’t for me, but it is for Headquarters. You’ve stirred the pot getting a warrant to retrieve the personal files of a member of congress.”
Kate carried on toward her desk as Quinn and Vasquez followed and remained silent in her defense. She’d already made it clear this was her call and they would not be held liable for anything that came of it. But knowing Vasquez, that was never going to happen.
“With respect, sir, we found some items of concern in the suspect’s home and we’re merely following up on their origins,” Vasquez said.
“Such as?”
“Phillip Vega kept photos of Mrs. Copeland in his home, signifying their relationship was more than what it seemed.”
“Or perhaps was a one-sided attraction,” Quinn added.
“That’s it? You got a warrant based on that?” Campbell looked at Dwight. “This could blow up on us, Jameson. I need you to keep a lid on this because if it does, I’ll have not only the director on my ass, but we’ll both be testifying before a congressional committee and we know how that will turn out.” He headed into the corridor. “Keep me updated on your progress. I don’t care what time it is—just do it.”
Quinn watched him leave. “Seems a likeable guy.”
“Actually, he is, but he has a right to be concerned. We all do. Let’s go set this up in the conference room and see what we can find,” Kate replied.
In the early morning hours, the team and welcomed consultant, Quinn, huddled around the Copelands’ laptops and Vega’s home computer, which was confiscated by Phelps and finally turned over at the insistence of ASAC Campbell. Despite his warnings, he wasn’t a man to leave his team flapping in the wind.
Nick flipped through the television stations, unable to settle on anything. His mind raced as he waited to hear from Kate. It was approaching 3am and still no word. Not since she texted him that they’d returned to WFO. But this was not his investigation, although one of his own team was assisting. The last thing he wanted to do was step on Kate’s toes, or Dwight’s.
The past several weeks, he’d worked hard at separating himself from the WFO—from Kate and Dwight. And it hadn’t been easy. All in the name of getting Kate to Quantico where he could again work with her. Something he missed so very much. But sitting here, away from the action, an administrator, of sorts. It was a difficult concept for him to wrap his head around. He enjoyed his new position; the prestige that came along with it and, of course, the money. Retirement was well within his sights now and a good retirement at that. He’d already given fifteen years to the Bureau. What was another five or more? Now he didn’t have to confront, on a regular basis, the evils, the demons, and monsters that had so often haunted his dreams. The monsters he didn’t catch and the demons who died in his presence and sometimes as a direct result of his actions. That was the reason he desired change. But now that he had it, was it enough?
Nick walked into the kitchen and opened the cupboard above the stove and peered at the bottle of Jack Daniels that was still half-full. Perhaps he would find sleep if he could quiet the thoughts that spun in his head. Would it permit him to stop thinking of her and what she was doing? Why couldn’t he let her be who she needed to be?
The answer stared back at him as plainly as the label on the bottle. Kate was becoming someone who didn’t need him anymore. Not in the way she had in the past. The ten
uous beginnings of their romantic relationship had strengthened since she moved in, but Nick was ever fearful of her pulling away, though he so often championed her departure and independence. Now in the face of it, he wanted to be by her side again, just as Quinn was now; a man who had been attracted to her, not knowing perhaps who she was. And to his credit, it seemed it was not a factor anymore, but Nick had developed a minor jealous streak in his time with Kate. Something he had never experienced before in past relationships, not even when Georgia slept with another man.
He reached for the bottle and gripped it as though it might slip through his fingers and despair would settle around him. He grabbed a glass and walked to the balcony, slipping out through the sliding door and into the cool breeze that drifted in from the bay. Would it get better when he truly accepted Kate deserved autonomy and deserved to grow and become whoever she was meant to become at the Bureau? That was the entire premise of their friendship. From the very beginning, that was what he had wanted for her. And no matter how different he thought he was from Marshall Avery, the true love of her life, and someone with whom he could never really compete, it was turning out that he might be more like him than he ever thought possible. This was something that was not in Kate’s best interest.
Nick poured the whiskey into the old-fashioned glass until it was half-full. That was where things usually started. And by the end of it, there would be no glass, only the bottle until there was nothing left.
Turned out, what they were looking for wasn’t as hard to find as they’d expected, which drew even greater concern.
“He just left these emails here? Didn’t try to delete them?” Kate looked at Dwight. “This doesn’t seem right.”
