Blackwaters: A Kate Reid Novel (The Kate Reid Series Book 4) (9 page)

“Never mind. I’ll go talk to Jameson.”

Only a moment after Kate left Nick’s office, his cell phone vibrated on his waist. Sliding it out of its holster, he answered, “Scarborough here.”

“Agent Scarborough, this is Agent Lyons in the Atlanta office.”

“Yes, sir. Hello. It’s been a very long time, Agent Lyons. I don’t think we’ve seen each other since I left Atlanta. How are you? What can I do for you?” Nick switched on his computer.

“It’s good to hear your voice, Scarborough. I was informed that you would be back from leave today.”

“That is correct.” The FBI emblem appeared on his screen along with logon fields to type in his credentials.

“Great. Listen, about the Blackwater investigation….”

Nick cut him short. “I’m sorry, Lyons, but it appears as though Agents Jameson and Reid will be handling that investigation.”

“Oh. I was under the impression that on your return, you would be taking things over?”

“No, sir. Jameson will be lead on this one. He’s a hell of an agent; don’t worry. I have full confidence in his abilities and Agent Reid’s.”

“Well, okay. I suppose I ought to get in touch with Jameson, then. I have some information I need to pass along. Agent Myers has come up with a very compelling profile on the unsub and he should take a look.”

Nick was quiet for a moment. “Right, of course. Jameson mentioned he’d asked Myers to take a look at the file last week. So, I understand that you’re already familiar with Agent Myers’ work. How do you know her?” He had no idea if Lyons was aware that he and Georgia had been seeing each other and so was trying to disguise any suggestion of the fact.

“I worked with her on a case several months back.”

Nick tried to think of when she might have been working a case in Atlanta.

“Just a consult, but we hit it off pretty well and so I was, of course, happy to have her draft something up for me on this deal. I heard she was instrumental in profiling the Highway Hunter investigation you worked on last year?”

“She was, yes. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’m sure Jameson will be anxious to hear of any new information you have on Blackwater. It was good talking to you again, Agent Lyons.”

“You too, Scarborough.”

Nick set his phone on his desk and began to replay the conversation he’d had with Georgia just the other night when he mentioned Lyons. Not one word from her that she knew him and had worked with him.

He unlocked the screen on his phone again and began flicking through the photos until he came upon his most recent one of Georgia. They’d been out on his boat, only one of the two times, but it had been a great day, that he recalled. Her windblown hair, wrapped in a sweater because it was chilly on the water. She was smiling and she looked beautiful as always.

Maybe it had slipped her mind—working with Lyons before. After all, she worked on several cases—some were more involved than others—but she was one of the best profilers they had and so was called upon many times. Yes, that must be it. He’d been sitting at home for too long, and with the conversation with Campbell fresh in his mind, it was just his paranoia. Georgia wouldn’t keep anything from him. They didn’t have that sort of relationship.

He pressed Georgia’s contact and raised the phone to his ear. She was out of town again, although couldn’t remember where this time. Philadelphia? Even he was prone to forgetting things and that was all this was.

“Hey, you at work?” Georgia asked immediately upon answering.

“Yes, I am. I just wanted to ask you a quick question…”

Georgia cut him off. “I’m sorry, I’m knee-deep in something right now. Can I call you back?”

“Of course, no problem. I’ll talk to you later.”

Georgia ended the call and walked out of the hotel bathroom, a towel wrapped around her chest, still dripping from the shower.

“So, I just got off the phone with Scarborough.” Lyons was puffing on a cigarette, still lying naked in bed. “He was asking how you and I knew each other.”

NINE

T
he news Agent
Lyons wanted to share with Scarborough, and now Agent Jameson, was that his office was able to confirm the identities of the two victims. Jameson was now waiting for copies of the forensics reports. “Kate, you have a minute?” He approached her as she sat at her desk.

“Sure. What’s going on?” She turned for a moment and pointed at the screen. “I’ve been able to rule out the schools whose logos and mascots don’t correspond with that on the second victim’s shirt, but I’m still going through the list.”

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” On their arrival, Dwight closed the door while Kate took a seat. “I just got off the phone with Agent Lyons. He’s sending the labs over to us now, but it appears as though they’ve been able to identify both victims.” Dwight sat down at his desk.

“Why don’t you seem happy about this?” Kate noticed his demeanor. “Oh, you talked to Nick, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Me too. But you know, this is a good thing for you. You deserve to be the front man on this, Dwight.” She almost never called him by his first name and especially not at the office. However, over the past couple of months, since they’d been working more closely together, she finally began to feel more comfortable and he always insisted she address him in such a manner.

“It’s not that. Not really. Lyons also mentioned that Agent Myers had compiled a profile for our review.”

“Great. Where is it?”

“He’s sending it over with the forensics.” He looked away for a moment.

“What is it, then? I mean, it sounds like we’re making progress here, right?”

“We are. I don’t know. It was something Nick said earlier. And after talking to Lyons, well…” He turned back to Kate. “Doesn’t matter. When I get the information, I’ll let you know. If we can find out where they lived, where they went missing, it’ll narrow things down for us quite a bit.”

“I agree. Okay, I’ll keep working on my list in the meantime.” Kate stood up to leave.

“Hey, um—if you need a few days off—I’m sure that won’t be problem,” Dwight said.

“Nick told you, did he?” Kate returned a doleful smile.

“Yes, but he didn’t need to. I was there too, remember? It’s not something that could ever be forgotten.”

“I’d rather not leave in the middle of an investigation and, besides, I’m better off keeping my mind on work.” She headed toward the door. “Thank you, Dwight.”

» » »

Arlen pushed the comb through his thick, black hair and slapped some aftershave on his beard as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. His shift was due to start in less than two hours. That didn’t allow for much time to prepare his guest. Perhaps that would have to wait until tonight. He preferred not to rush these things.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Arlen walked back along the hall and into the living room where Lizbeth waited. “I’m going to have to leave for work soon, so I’m going to need you to keep quiet while I’m gone.”

He approached her. “But that shouldn’t be a problem, now should it, Lizbeth?” He squatted down. “I’ll get you all dolled up after I get home, I promise.”

The ponytail she wore was now hanging half in and half out, so Arlen placed his hand on her head to smooth it back. Leaning in to kiss her forehead, he closed his eyes and let his lips take in the salty smooth skin that had already grown cold. As he pulled back, he looked into her lifeless, bloodshot eyes. “Yep. We’ll finish what we started when I get back tonight.” His hand slid down to her crotch and he squeezed as hard as he could.

Arlen got back on his feet and walked toward the front door, grabbing his keys on the way out. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Last night’s storm was a distant memory now, save for the mud and silt that covered what little asphalt remained on the neglected street. Turned out not to have been as big of a deal as the weather guy predicted. By the time it hit land, the hurricane diminished substantially and the more inland it traveled, the weaker it became. Just a few inches of rain was all it dropped by the time it reached Arlen’s home. Guess the old woman didn’t need to board up her windows after all.
Opportunity.

Arlen surveyed the area and felt like a god. What few houses comprised this burnt down community were his. No one knew he was here, no one cared. And he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was that euphoric feeling that he craved so much. Unfortunately, it didn’t ever last long enough and, in fact, seemed to fade much quicker with each victim.

His truck sat in the driveway and Arlen knew it was time to leave. Sure it was risky showing up for work, but it would have been riskier not to. Even if Mrs. Hansby had reported Lizbeth missing, he’d left nothing behind to draw the police to him. As far as they knew, he went back to work after the install with Pete and left for home at the end of his shift. Arlen parted his lips in a wide grin as he stepped inside his pickup. He was smarter than all those sons of bitches.

The reception on his radio was shoddy this far out, but as he neared town, the music came in clear as he sang along. He began to prepare himself in the event questions were raised regarding the disappearance of the young and beautiful Lizbeth Hansby. As far as he was concerned, the police were much too incompetent to make any sort of connection. Sure, they’d find DNA evidence, fingerprints and such, that he’d been at the old woman’s house, but he was on an install, so no further explanation needed.

By the time he arrived to work, he’d been confident of his story should the need arise to tell one. And, in the event the heat became too much, he’d simply take up roots, but his arrogance denied any such possibility.

» » »

It was the last school on her list and still—nothing. The search would need to be widened, but just how wide? Kate wondered if Dwight had received the information on the victims yet. Perhaps understanding where they were from would help—where they went missing. They needed something more to go on before another body turned up in the river.

The river
. Kate began to type on her keyboard with determined speed thanks to an idea that sparked. She opened the case files and pulled up the sheriff’s report from Baker County where the first victim had been discovered. Leaning closer to the screen, she read the scanned-in documents. The report indicated the victim had been in the river for a length of time yet to be determined by the coroner’s office, but estimated to have been twelve days. It was also assumed that the victim traveled downstream and that the origination of her point of entry was in the Okefenokee Swamp. Indicators such as flora attached to the victim’s body suggested this was fact.

That was why the case had been turned over to the Atlanta office. Charlton County, Georgia and Baker County, Florida agreed that as it appeared the victim was killed in Georgia and that Atlanta should handle the investigation. But what if they were wrong? Kate needed to see the forensics to be sure.

She took to her feet and walked back to Dwight’s office, noticing Nick’s door was closed. Hesitating for a moment, Kate considered knocking, but thought better of it and headed again on the path to her intended destination. “Agent Jameson?” she asked, standing in his doorway.

“Come in, please.”

Kate blew out a heavy, exasperated breath as she lowered herself into the chair. “I went through this list. Nothing. Not one of them matches our second victim’s shirt.”

“Okay.” It seemed Dwight sensed there was more coming.

“But what if we aren’t looking in the right place? Did you get the forensics and Myers’ report yet?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I was just beginning to review everything now. So this is good timing. Pull your chair over here and let’s take a look.” Dwight patted the corner of his desk.

“Do we know where the victims lived?” Kate squeezed in next to Dwight.

“According to Lyons, victim number one, who has now been identified as nineteen-year-old Sydney Hawthorne, lived in Valdosta. She was reported missing after she didn’t show up for work. That’s a fair distance from the swamp, assuming that was where her body was dumped.”

“Right. And what about the other victim?” Kate leaned in to get a better view of the monitor while Dwight retrieved the other file.

“Okay, looks like the other victim was a twenty-two-year-old named Ariel Nadal. She’s a native Puerto Rican, moved to Georgia with her family back in 2000. Reported missing three weeks ago by her family. They live in Hinesville.” Dwight looked at Kate. “That’s even further from the swamp.”

“Can you pull up Agent Myers’ profile of the unsub?” Kate asked.

Dwight typed in a few more commands. “She prefaced this with the fact that it was developed prior to her viewing the forensics report and only having utilized the sheriff’s and coroner’s information.”

“So does that mean this won’t do us any good?”

“No. It means she’ll go back and modify as needed once she has an opportunity to review the new findings. But for now, this is what she wrote.” Dwight zoomed in the document.

“The first and perhaps most obvious similarity is the age of the two victims. Both being in early adulthood. In addition to that would be the geographic locations in which the victims were discovered. Following along those lines, as well as considering two crucial elements to ascertain whether or not we can label such incidents as serial killings, one must consider that the killings involved similar sexual mutilation, and a significant “cooling off” period occurred between the deaths. Although each victim was discovered within less than two weeks of each other, it appears as though their deaths actually occurred within in a larger timespan – approximately six weeks of one another. And given the nature of the mutilations, there is clear intent to draw focus on the killer’s message. It suggests the killer suffered previous sexual abuse that likely bordered on the extreme. These are prime indicators that these deaths can be labeled serial killings and that it would not be outside the realm of possibilities to consider that this killer, or perhaps killers is/are not finished killing.”

Kate leaned back and shook her head. “We know who these girls are now, but as far as you know, there was no foreign DNA found on either victim?”

“No, although I’d like to talk to the coroner and send whatever samples they have to the BAU lab,” Dwight began. “But my guess is, because they were in the water for so long, and from what I understand, that particular river—a black water river—contains high levels of acidity, there may not be any DNA to find. Which leaves us with few leads except to talk to the people who were the last to see our victims.”

“Do you think Agent Lyons’ team has already reached out to them?” Kate asked.

“Possibly. I’ll find out. I’d prefer if they just turn things over for us to handle. This is our gig and while we need to coordinate our efforts, we’re the ones who should be talking to the families.”

“Of course.” Kate paused for a moment. “What do you think about this whole thing with Nick? Him not being involved in this. He’s the resident agent.”

“I know.” Dwight shook his head. “It’s a crock of shit, if you ask me, but if we need him on an advisory basis, and according to Campbell, that’s all he’ll be available for, then we’ll consult with him.” He turned back to the monitor and closed the file. “In the meantime, why don’t you set something up so we can talk to the victims’ families? Maybe someone else saw this guy. It’s about all we’ve got to go on right now.”

“Sure thing.” Kate took to her feet. “I was thinking maybe we should take Nick to lunch today, since it’s his first day back. What do you think?” It was a meager gesture, but one she hoped would lift Nick’s mood a little. She understood that it was going to be very hard for him to take a back seat to this. If she was in his shoes, she wouldn’t handle it well either.

“I think he’s got some other things he’s working on today. Probably best to leave him to settle back in.”

“Okay. I’ll get to work on organizing a trip back to Atlanta. Should we plan on heading out in the morning?”

“Yes. Thanks, Kate.”

» » »

No one raised a single eyebrow, just as Arlen predicted. He knew he was smarter than all of them and this time was no exception. He’d gone about his day, working diligently as always, keeping his nose to the grindstone. Now it was time to head home and finish what he’d started. He could take his time because there would be no pleas for mercy, no screams, nothing to distract him from the precision he needed to do it right.

“I’m punching out,” he said to the two co-workers stacking lumber. “I’ll see y’all in two days.”

A canopy of purple and orange draped over the skies as Arlen walked out of the building and into the parking lot. He shoved a hand into his pants’ pocket to retrieve the keys and noticed a squad car pulling up to the front. Careful not to appear alarmed, he continued to his truck, nodding to the officers who stepped out. In that moment, he was grateful to not be wearing his apron because he now looked like a customer and nothing more. The officers returned the gesture and walked inside the store.