Chapter Twenty-One
Ten minutes later Mac sat at the front of the room and scanned the crowd to see who was still missing. A couple of the analysts who worked fixed shifts. Ross, Atherton and Dunbar. Yesterday they’d started talking to the families about threats the victims had received and today they were chasing down more leads.
Mac started with Elijah Carter who sat on his left with the hate crimes duo. “Any connection between vics?”
“We have some basic crossover, like they all subscribed to the Washington Post online, shared the same cell service provider and occasionally shopped for groceries in some of the same stores, used the same metro line, etc., but nothing startling considering they all lived on the northwest side of the city. No indications they were ever in the same place at the same time. No record of any communication between them, but I’m still looking at their social media posts and credit card histories to see if they attended any of the same events. Ms. Shiraz was all over blogs and social media with her personal opinion, the others barely had Facebook profiles—except the judge’s wife. She posted a lot of pictures of their grandkids.” Carter scratched between his eyes, making the hate crimes lady lean away from him like he was contagious. “I started to add Trettorri into the mix and I’m coming up with the same kind of general things. I’m going to look for other commonalities next, determine if they were friends with any of the same people. I have a couple of analysts working on it.”
Ross, Atherton and Dunbar entered the room with a muted apology for being late. The female detective was wearing skintight leather pants today and Agent Ross had trouble keeping his eyes off her ass. Nice to see Mac wasn’t the only one with women issues.
His ex. Not Tess, he assured himself. He was going to have to deal with Heather as soon as he had an hour to himself. She was beginning to piss him off and interfere with his job. Tess, he was just going to have to let go. It wasn’t like he hadn’t walked away before.
Yeah, when she was ten.
Asshole.
Hell, he was really starting to hate himself when it came to his dealings with Tess Fallon.
“What did you find out?” he asked the latecomers.
Dunbar took the lead which seemed to annoy her colleagues but she grinned at Ross while she did it. Mac suspected they were both competitive individuals and that worked as long as they got results. “The rabbi and DJ both reported some threats to the police and the FBI. About a year ago someone painted a swastika on the synagogue where the rabbi worked and he filed a report. Sonja Shiraz had literally thousands of vicious emails and hand-mailed letters all promising to do vile things to her for switching sides. The judge never reported any threats and I spoke to some of his colleagues on the Federal Circuit and they weren’t aware of the Thomases having any issues with haters. He was a well-liked, well-respected guy who didn’t suffer fools. Then we spoke to Trettorri’s husband.”
Ross crossed his arms and seemed resigned to playing second string to Annabel Dunbar’s fiddle.
“The husband promised to have an aide locate all their hate mail and deliver it to us ASAP.” She stuck her hands on her hips. “Way he spoke suggested they had lots of it, but the congressman kept it at work so as to not sully—his word, not mine—their home. That’s all we have so far.” She gave an exaggerated shrug and went and leaned against the wall off to one side. Aside from the tight pants and hot bod she reminded Mac a lot of himself. Hungry to prove herself. Confident she could do the job. Determined never to show weakness. It hadn’t taken her long to settle into SIOC. Mac figured give it a week and she’d be ready to take over.
“Miki?” Mac prompted Agent Makimi.
The agent delicately rubbed her brow. Only a fool would underestimate the woman or the agent. “I searched ViCAP for similar crimes.” Her cheeks bunched as she pressed her lips together. “Lots of potential connections, but nothing solid. None using the same weapon Agent Harm identified, which would have been flagged by NIBIN.”
“How similar are the crimes?” Mac asked.
“Potential hate targets as determined by race, religion or sexuality. Shot in quiet locations with no real fanfare. No witnesses. The casings weren’t always picked up, but there were a couple of incidents where the brass was removed. One double homicide suggests the killer did not want any witnesses. Looks as if a young guy stumbled upon the shooting of an Arab male and got a bullet in the head for his trouble.”
“Any vics in DC?”
She smiled. “That would be too easy. Memphis. Phoenix. Seattle. New Haven.”
“Check with the local FBI or police stations. Find out if they can tell you anything about the crimes that might provide linkage. Any clue, specifically DNA or witness statements not listed on ViCAP.”
“It’s unusual to have a lone offender who doesn’t want to revel in the glory of what they’ve done,” the hate crimes lady said.
Mac agreed. “Usually they are so vainglorious they turn themselves in if the police don’t catch them fast enough, but this killer doesn’t look like he or she is going to stop. They’re on a mission.” He locked eyes with the woman, for once not in dispute. “Any other hate groups pop up on the radar?”
She and her partner exchanged a look. “Everything is pointing to this being related to David Hines’s Pioneers group formerly out of Kodiak Compound, Idaho. We are looking deeper at people who were there or suspected of being affiliated or sympathetic to them.”
“Could someone be deliberately misleading us to make us think it’s the Pioneers?” Mac asked. And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping he could spare Tess the scrutiny this would get her when the press made the connection, which would be any minute now.
Hate crimes lady smiled. “You’re the one who was at the compound yesterday with David Hines’s daughter. What do you think?”
That reminded him. He dug in his jacket pocket, tossed Walsh the recording from the meeting between Tess and Eddie. “Tess Fallon hadn’t visited her brother in twenty years but agreed to talk to him and wear a wire once I informed her that her sister, Ellie, was four months pregnant at the time of her death.” So what if he was being a little ambiguous about the timeline to make Tess look better? Tess was not the killer. “The pregnancy meant someone in the compound was having sex with Ellie Hines.”
“Duh,” said Walsh.
“And,” he sent a quelling look to the peanut gallery, “as she was David Hines’s daughter, and the Pioneers revered the guy and were even more terrified of his wife, I was pretty sure back then that Ellie was a victim of incest. I asked the ME to run tests during the autopsy and they confirmed a sibling fathered Ellie’s baby. That information was never released to the media or the courts. DA didn’t press charges. Walt was dead. Eddie was already doing a long stretch.”
“The younger sister didn’t know the older one was being sexually abused?” Hate crimes guy pushed.
Mac remembered the pain he’d seen in Tess’s eyes when she’d figured it out. “No, she didn’t. Eddie went for her at the end of visiting. She was lucky to escape relatively unscathed.” His mouth went dry again at the reminder of how close she’d come to dying.
“You sure she’s not playing you, boss?” Walsh said.
Mac forced a shrug. Knew if Walsh voiced it, others must be thinking it. “I’m just telling you what I know from my undercover days at the compound and what I saw at the prison yesterday. I believe her, but we’ll do this by the book. I want someone investigating her activities so everything is on record. You,” he pointed at Walsh because he trusted the guy. Tess would hate him if she knew. He thought of the books on her ereader. Her desire for privacy. “Listen to that recording of the prison interview carefully. I’m pretty sure there are clues on it, but I got distracted when Eddie attacked her. Also,” he pointed to Carter. “Tess thinks both Eddie and her father had a girlfriend. Eddie’s girlfriend was a girl called Brandy who I suspect he’s been in touch with. Agents from Coeur d’Alene are trying to track her down. I want you and Walsh going through my old case notes for possible suspect names. Also search for clues regarding any potential females in David Hines’s life.”
“You think our killer could be a woman?” Carter asked.
“Why not?” Agent Makimi said angrily. “Any idiot can fire a handgun.”
Miki was a firm believer in equality.
“That’s cold,” Carter responded, not dropping her gaze.
“It’s cold no matter who pulls the trigger,” Mac agreed.
Mac thought back to Tess’s meeting with Eddie and what she might have said to the guy that had given her away. “Listen to the interview. Tell me what you think. And see how the marshals are doing catching that asshole.” Mac remembered something else. “Eddie suggested he was nailing one of the prison guards during his chat with Tess, but that might have been bravado. Make sure you give that info to the marshals, too. He also threatened to track Tess down and kill her.” His gut clenched at the exact phrasing. “Probably jailhouse bragging, but you never know with psychopaths, especially stupid ones.” Especially when they then escaped from prison.
Walsh made a note of it. “Want protection on her?”
Mac nodded. “Get a patrol car on her street.” He wanted Tess safe and although he didn’t believe Eddie would make it this far he couldn’t afford to discount the danger she faced. Tess would hate the extra attention a security detail would bring her, but she probably already hated him anyway. So be it.
“For the record, I don’t think Tess Fallon is involved in the murders but she is connected somehow. We appear to have a conspiracy going with the involvement of Henry Jessop and links to the Pioneers. Computer consultant at BAU examined Tess’s online activity and didn’t find anything suspicious. Same consultant put some wunderkind on identifying the users of the One-Drop-2-Many chatroom on the dark web.”
Hernandez dropped her pen on her notepad with a flourish. “Impossible.”
Mac allowed himself a small smile. “Apparently, the kid is a genius and we have nothing to lose by giving it a go. I want someone here doing in-depth background on the younger brother, Cole. Tess claims he doesn’t know who his parents are, but someone else might have told him without her knowledge. Atherton.” The agent looked up from perusing his notes. “You go interview his college professors. I want warrants for his phones, email and all internet activity. Let’s keep it on the down low. These people deserve to be treated with respect until we find evidence that suggests they are involved. Cole was just an infant at the time of his parents’ death, but Tess definitely suffered enough when she was growing up.” He forced the image of her running out of that damn barn from his mind. His knuckles throbbed in memory. Walt hadn’t accepted his education lightly. Mac had enjoyed every fucking moment of teaching the guy to keep his hands off his own kid sister.
“Next. Henry Jessop. Who’s working on him?”
A row of hands went up. An agent confirmed the calls to the burner Parker had mentioned. “I want you tracking the purchase of those two cell phones and figure out if the same buyer bought more. Maybe we can track SIM cards. Where, when, who and how did they pay for them, these people must have messed up somehow.”
Right now, they were making law enforcement run in circles pecking at crumbs.
The agents provided more background on Jessop, but the guy had never been in trouble with the law and unlike most antigovernment types always paid his taxes on time.
“What about his family?” Mac asked.
Hernandez answered. “Wife died five years ago. Daughter was killed in a car accident almost twenty years ago.”
Mac frowned and shook his head. “Jessop made it sound like she was alive and well. What about the grandson?”
She blinked. “What grandson?”
Mac paced. This didn’t add up. “At dinner last night, he mentioned a daughter who lived out east. He had a photograph stuck to his fridge of a little boy holding a woman’s hand.”
“Maybe their deaths pushed him over the edge into delusion?” the analyst suggested.
Mac frowned. “It’s possible he lost his mind. He did set fire to his house twenty minutes after serving the best beef stew I’ve ever tasted.” He smoothed his tie as he pictured the inside of that house and all the things bothering him. “The downstairs bedroom, where I found the computer belonged to a teen. I’d say a male from the color scheme and bedding. I saw razors in the bathroom and Jessop had a beard older and uglier than I am.”
“Could the razors have belonged to the wife when she was alive?”
“Nah, they were guy razors.”
“Not wimpy girl razors,” Miki grouched under her breath.
He hid his grin. Making Makimi mad was one of the many things he liked about working with her. The woman had come over from Japan as a child and totally embraced the feminist movement.
“Exactly. Now I’m not saying male razors are better than female razors, they’re just different.”
She leveled him with a glare.
“It’s hinky.” He pointed a finger at Hernandez. “I want you digging deeper into Jessop’s background, much deeper. Check local school enrollment, ask the local cops and Feds for information. Ask if the agent out of Pocatello will interview the ranch hands about the rest of Jessop’s family members. Find out what the Feds managed to salvage from the house after the fire. I don’t believe his daughter and grandson died twenty years ago. They could be involved in these murders. I want them found.”
“What made you go to the compound?” hate crimes guy asked.
“I was literally driving within ten miles of the place and figured it couldn’t hurt. I assumed it would have been torn down. Some of the buildings were gone, but the main cabin and barn are still there. Jessop told us he’d fixed up the cabin and rented it out—without the owner’s permission. Jessop said he hoped Eddie would move in after he was released.” Which would now be a long time coming, assuming they ever recaptured the guy.
Why escape now, near the end of his prison term?
Mac didn’t believe seeing Tess had driven him over the edge. But maybe seeing Kenny Travers had… The guy knew something about what was going on and Mac wanted to know what it was. “See if there are any records for the people who stayed at Kodiak Compound. Seems to me it would be a nice va-cay destination for your average white supremacist family.”
One side of Walsh’s mouth curved up. At least someone besides Tess got his sense of humor.
“Cross check with Eddie’s visitors.”
“Who owns the land now?” asked Walsh.
Mac took a sip of cold coffee, feeling as if he was about to hammer nails into an innocent woman’s coffin. “Tess and Cole Fallon still own the land. Their adoptive mother, who in an interesting twist was a wealthy woman of color, bought it and paid the taxes until she died. Again, Tess says Cole doesn’t know about owning the land. I got the impression she doesn’t want to sell the land until she’s told him about their family history, but she’s not ready to tell him about their past, so she’s still got the land.” A conundrum.
“Something tells me he’s gonna discover the truth in the very near future,” Walsh commented dryly.
Mac nodded. Either when the FBI questioned him, or when a member of the press figured it out. His stomach grumbled with hunger. He’d kill for a slice of pizza. “Okay, people, let’s move on this. I want this murderer identified before he, or she, hurts anyone else.”
He was itching to head back out into the field, but made himself walk into his office and start going through reports. Time to let others do the legwork. Time to delegate the good stuff.
* * *
A noise had Tess cracking open a heavy eyelid. It was dark and it took a few seconds to figure out why it shouldn’t be.
She froze, listening intently for whatever it was that had woken her. She grabbed her weapon from the nightstand, moving the covers aside as stealthily as possible then sliding her feet onto the floor.
She cocked her head.
Someone was in her house, in her kitchen. They were being quiet but the sound of a zipper and then Velcro fastenings tearing apart were loud in the silence of the night.
What were they doing?
She picked up her cell, dialed 911 but immediately hung up. No way could she speak to an operator without alerting whoever was downstairs. And if it was Eddie, she didn’t want him to run. She wanted him back in prison paying for the things he’d done.
She used her cell phone flashlight to see Mac’s business card and dialed his number. She heard him pick up and she whispered softly, “Send help.”
She slipped the phone into her pocket without listening to his response. She braced herself to do what needed to be done and hoped Mac trusted her enough to stay on the line. After a few moments, the creak of wood beneath stealthy footsteps made the hair on her nape rise.
Someone was creeping up her stairs.
She moved tentatively over the carpeted floor of her bedroom until she reached the open doorway. Below her, a shadow moved in the darkness.
Her heart pounded as she ducked back behind the wall. There was no lock on her bedroom door. No chair she could wedge under the handle if she wanted to barricade herself inside. Her grip tightened on her Ruger. It felt heavy in her hands, the idea of using it even heavier in her heart.
She steadied her heartbeat, stretched her neck to one side and calmly breathed out. This asshole was about to receive the fright of his life.
She stepped into the hallway and switched on the light. The figure on the stairs froze in shock as she aimed the weapon at him. Eyes glittered from behind a black woolen balaclava, too far away to make out their color. The guy was lean but fit looking in black pants and a plain dark hoodie. Eddie? She couldn’t tell. He eyed the gun in her hand as if weighing the chance of her using it.
“Take off your mask and move down the stairs. Lie on the living room floor with your hands stretched out over your head. Do as I tell you and I might not pull the trigger.”
Her intruder sniffed loudly and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jersey. Then he slipped his hand in his hoodie pocket.
“Stop! Put your hands up where I can see them!”
But it was too late. He pulled a gun and got off a shot which hit the wall only a few inches from her face. Dammit. She jerked back behind the wall, heart pounding like a panicked jackrabbit.
The sound of his footsteps told her he was running away. Too late to return fire.
Damn.
She didn’t want to live in constant fear. She wanted this over. She took a quick glance around the doorway and then moved fast across to the top of the banister, easing to look over into the hall below. Empty.
She heard him open the back door and it slam against the counter as he fled. Damn. She needed him caught. She needed this over. She ran quickly downstairs and noted the open kitchen door and the sound of trashcans being knocked over as the guy escaped.
The intruder had gone through her laptop case and purse. Her wallet was on the floor.
Another sound registered, a weird tinny sound like music through earbuds. She suddenly realized what it was and lowered her gun. She fished her cell out of her pocket and put it to her ear. Mac was yelling her name over and over.
“I’m all right.”
He blew out a big breath. “Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me? First responders are on the way. I’m twenty minutes out. What the hell happened?”
“An intruder was in my house.” Her teeth chattered in reaction. So much for being brave.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He wore a balaclava. I didn’t see his face.”
“It was definitely a guy?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Eddie?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I really don’t know.” Who else would it have been? She went to the front door and opened it wide. Sat heavily on the front step when her knees gave out. “Y-you don’t need to come. Cops are on their way. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“I’ll be there shortly.” The words were curt.
She nodded and hung up when a fire truck arrived and a man from across the street started jogging toward her to make sure she was okay. Realizing she still had her gun in her hand, she released the clip and then emptied the chamber. Laid the bullets and the weapon at her side so the cops could do their thing. Covered her face to combat the overwhelming sense of stress and relief that wanted to pound her into the ground.
She’d thought she’d left the danger behind in Idaho. Instead it had followed her home.