“Anything of use?” he asked.
“The forensics came back as expected. Not a single usable fingerprint on the car, other than those belonging to the boys or Jason’s family members. The same can be said for the duct tape, the most popular brand on the market. There was a black fiber trapped in the weave of it, however. It might have come from a knit glove.”
And how many of those could there be in the northern hemisphere?
“The metal folding chair was a brand distributed through a couple of big-box retailers all over the country.”
The hits just kept coming.
“So what’s the deal with the phone?” Taggert asked.
Wyatt pushed the forensic report back into the folder. “Someone used it for more than three minutes last night. Ryan Smith’s father has been checking his son’s account every night, and he noticed a call took place around nine p.m. The phone company has the account flagged, and they would have noticed it this morning… Thanks to Mr. Smith, we knew twelve hours in advance.”
Smart man. Or simply a grieving father who felt powerless and wanted to do something to help solve his son’s murder.
“The cell phone provider should be calling at any time with the information on the tower, and the approximate location of the caller.”
Meaning, if the Professor had used the phone himself, they would know where he had been less than half a day ago. Where he had really been, not just what Internet sites he had cruised. Alec forced himself not to even think of that issue, not wanting his head clouded today by his concern for Sam.
As if Wyatt had willed it to happen, the office phone rang. The dour receptionist, whose name Alec couldn’t even remember, hadn’t arrived yet, so the boss answered the call himself from the phone in here. They all quieted when he started speaking, but every person actually fell silent as soon as they realized he was not talking to the cellular provider.
“Yes, Detective, we are assisting the Wilmington police.”
Something about the boys.
It was impossible to glean anything from merely the words Wyatt uttered on his side of the conversation. It was not, however, difficult to spot the way their boss shook his head and covered his eyes at some bit of particularly bad news. “Yes, of course.” He reached for a pen and paper, jotting something down, then continued. “Morning traffic will tangle us up a bit, but we should be able to get there by nine or shortly thereafter. You will still be working the scene?”
Oh, damn. Another crime scene?
Every other person in the room realized the same thing. Jackie groaned in disgust. Lily’s pale face lost what little color it had. Kyle and Dean both muttered expletives, and Brandon flipped open his laptop, ready to dive in with whatever information Wyatt gave them.
Their leader hung up, rising and stuffing the forensics pages back into their files. “It appears we don’t have to wait for the phone company. Ryan Smith’s cell phone was discovered at a crime scene. Lily and Brandon, please remain here to provide us with off-site support, as well as monitoring Mrs. Dalton’s Web site.”
“And the rest of us?” Jackie asked.
“We’re going to Baltimore. A woman’s body was found this morning.”
Alec jerked to his feet. “Not Sam…”
Wyatt immediately shook his head. “No, no. Of course not.”
Thank you, God. His conscience was already heavy over what had happened to Ferguson. One death-another agent’s-was all the guilt he could carry. A civilian’s could break him.
Samantha’s? Well, that could crush him for good.
No one commented on Alec’s response, probably because they’d all seen him sit in this room with her for nine or ten hours yesterday. They knew he felt responsible for his plan not working, and would feel even more responsible if Sam was hurt because of it. They couldn’t know he had gotten personally interested in the woman, though Jackie did eye him speculatively.
He didn’t care. Those few brief seconds thinking something had happened to Sam had thrust the reality of his feelings toward her home with the power of a blade. There was no maybe about it. When this case was over, he would be knocking on her door for that shot of tequila, that poker game. That kiss. And whatever came after it.
“Let’s go,” Wyatt said.
Everyone rose quickly. Grabbing coats and keys, they hurried out, Blackstone shooting details over his shoulder. “Baltimore police were called by a construction foreman before dawn. A woman’s naked body was spotted on the grounds of a waterfront site. She was a thirty-eight-year-old operator, unmarried, living with a female roommate in the city. Judging by the body temperature, it appears she’s been there all night.”
Alec didn’t have to think long before he caught the vision. “Blindfolded too, right? Then left alone to stagger around helpless and fall to her death.”
The others simply stared. They hadn’t been after the Professor as long as Alec had. God willing, they would never know him as intimately as he did.
“Very likely,” Blackstone said. Inside the elevator, he added, “They found her clothes and ID on the top level of the building, along with a cell phone that they quickly discovered had belonged to a murder victim. The Wilmington police directed them to us.”
“Ryan Smith’s,” Alec confirmed.
Wyatt nodded.
“So I guess we know why Darwin wasn’t hanging around online last night,” Jackie said, shaking her head in disgust.
“Yeah,” Kyle said, ever the blunt one. “He was busy tossing an operator off a building.”
But he probably wasn’t busy now. In fact, the unsub was likely relaxed, sated for the time being. Perhaps he had some time on his hands. Maybe even enough to do a little Web surfing.
Wyatt seemed to read his mind, not the first time his boss had exhibited some pretty amazing intuition. “Brandon and Lily will notify us the moment he shows up on her site.”
Alec eyed the other man warily, wondering if his reaction in the conference room had revealed more than he’d intended to about his relationship with their witness. “I know,” he said, wanting to place a quick call to Sam to give her a heads-up that Darwin might be back online this morning.
But it would have to be from the road. They were all anxious to get to the crime scene before too many people had gone through it. Alec needed to look at every inch if he wanted to try to imagine what the Professor had been thinking and feeling.
Thinking, yes. Feeling? The Professor? Probably not so much. He suspected the unsub didn’t have feelings, that he was completely detached from what he was doing. One step removed from the human race, as if they were his subjects, or his guinea pigs, free to be played with and disposed of at will.
He only wished they had stopped him before he’d had a chance to play his deadly game with the poor woman lying cold and dead on the ground in Baltimore.
Considering Sam had spent the last couple of days wrapped up in a murder investigation, mourning the loss of a nice kid, and wondering whether she had attracted the attention of a serial killer, she probably shouldn’t have been so surprised to forget an important date. In most cases, such a lapse in memory could probably be expected.
Except, of course, if the date was her own birthday.
It wasn’t today. The official anniversary would occur tomorrow. However, this was the day her mother had decided to celebrate. Why? Because the older woman had a Saturday-night date and needed all of tomorrow to prepare. Who said mothers weren’t sentimental?
If it’s with someone she met online, I’m going to lock her up and throw away the key.
“So you will be there for lunch?” the older woman asked. “Eleven forty-five a.m. at Raphael’s, that lovely café I like on Charles Street?”
She shouldn’t have answered the phone this morning when it startled her awake a few minutes ago. Actually, she wished she hadn’t turned the ringer back on last night. She had thought, however implausibly, that Alec might decide to call her and fill her in on what that mysterious phone call from his boss had been about. But no, the only call had been this reminder from her mother. Which effectively removed any chance of Sam using the legitimate excuse that she had forgotten about today’s lunch.