Deadly Sins (40 page)

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Authors: Kylie Brant

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #General

BOOK: Deadly Sins
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It was another three hours before they finished searching the house and outbuildings, and headed back toward their vehicles. Jaid’s cell had been emitting pings all morning, signaling incoming texts. Since all of them were from Bolton, and read only,
URGENT! CALL ME IMMEDIATELY!
she figured they could be ignored. She hadn’t come up with a fail-safe plan to shake the man loose yet, so she was toying with simply going with violence. It was a ballsy move to try and threaten an FBI agent in any case. Maybe she should just tell him she was turning him into the bureau for extortion. If nothing else, the threat would buy her time.
Shepherd was carrying the rifle case tucked under one arm. He caught her sleeve with his free hand and drew her aside as Adam continued toward the car. “I was working all night,” he said in undertones. “There are things about Adam’s priest friend, that Benton, that bear a closer look.”
“I’ve got some things to catch you up on, too . . .”
“I don’t want you mentioning anything to Adam about this.” A note in the man’s tone had her looking at him more carefully. “I owe the guy, more than you know. If not for him, I’d still be freezing my ass off in Bismarck. But these things I’m discovering about the priest . . . they have to be looked into. And I don’t want Raiker maybe saying something to the man that will warn him off.”
She gave a half laugh, but there was no answering amusement in the other man’s expression. “Seriously? You think a priest shot Justice Reinbeck, stabbed Patterson in the heart, oh, and garroted Cardinal Cote? I’m pretty sure all those would rank pretty high on the mortal-sin list.”
“He had a relationship with Patterson. I don’t know all of it yet, but there’s a connection.” The agent sent a quick glance in Adam’s direction. “And Reinbeck was at a fund-raiser Benton and Raiker attended not long ago. Then there’s the animosity he admitted to regarding the cardinal. Hell, maybe he didn’t do it himself. Adam thinks there’s a professional actually doing the work, right? Or maybe he thought he could copycat the other killings as a cover to get rid of Cote. I don’t know. But I do know there’s more there than he’s admitting to.”
She stared at the man, disbelieving. “Shepherd, he’s a
priest
.”
The agent looked grim. “Yeah, well, some pretty horrible things have been done over the centuries in the name of religion. And guess what he does every month? Visiting chaplain at the Alexandria Detention Center, just in case you were wondering where he might meet someone to do the wet work for him.”
Her phone sounded again. She clenched her teeth. She wasn’t sure she could deal with Bolton and this ridiculous line from Shepherd at the same time. “All right. I’ve met the man twice, and I think you’re way off base, but you and I will find some time this afternoon to sit down alone and go over everything you’ve got, okay?”
He took a step back, looking a bit relieved. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Her phone was ringing now. Taking it out of her pocket, she recognized Bolton’s number. “I have to get this. We’ll talk later.”
Shepherd nodded and headed toward his vehicle. Jaid remained in place. She waited until the agent was out of hearing distance before answering, her voice hard. “I have to warn you, Bolton, I’m seriously considering just shooting you and putting an end to this harassment.”
“Jaid. My God, what does it take to get you to answer a fucking message?” Lost were the smug tones that usually had her wanting to smack him within a few minutes. The man’s voice was as agitated as she’d ever heard it. “This is big. This is the fucking story of the century.”
“You know what’s going to be a big story, Bolton? The one where a hotshot prize-winning journalist ends up in prison bunking with a toothless hillbilly named Sweetums. Extortion. Attempted blackmail of a federal agent. Tough sentencing, Bolton. You’ll be inside long enough for you and Sweetums to get real friendly.”
“What are you talking about? Never mind, just listen. I was contacted today by the DC killer.”
Her heart stopped for an instant. When it renewed beating, its hammering filled her ears. “What are you talking about? Why would he contact you?”
“Give me a little credit, Jaid. I’m sort of a big deal in the news world. He wants me to tell his story. He sent along a clue to who his next victim will be. He wants me to get it to the bureau.”
She shook her head. Nothing about this story was making sense. “I swear, Bolton, if this is some sort of elaborate ruse to get me to meet with you, I’ll break more than your nose.”
A bit of his usual smarm entered his voice. “Violence again. I’m beginning to get turned on.”
“It still doesn’t make sense. Why you? And why me?”
“We’ve already covered my part. As far as you, I was told to get it to the bureau. You’re an agent.” A shrug sounded in his voice. “If you want me to contact someone else, I know lots of agents.”
“No, I’ll come.” The words left her mouth before she could consider them. But she saw no other choice. If this was a trick by the reporter, she’d make him regret it. “What sort of proof did he send you?”
“No more information until the actual meet. How soon can you get here?”
A measure of cynicism returned. She wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t some huge hoax perpetuated by Bolton just to get her roped into a meet. But he’d be the one surprised when she slapped a pair of cuffs on him if he tried the blackmail number again.
“Depends on where we’re meeting.” She saw Adam get out of the vehicle again, leaning a hand on the driver’s door, a questioning look on his face. Belatedly, she started walking in his direction again, noting that Shepherd had already pulled out of the drive.
“I can’t get away long. How about right outside the
Gazette
, at noon?”
It seemed an innocuous enough place. The building for the newspaper giant ate up an entire city block in downtown DC, but it wasn’t all that far away from the Hoover Building. “Better make it one. I’m a ways out of the city.”
“One, then.” The quiver of excitement was back in his voice. “You won’t be sorry.” The call disconnected.
“I’m already sorry,” she muttered, slipping the cell back in her pocket and hurrying toward the vehicle. She opened the door and got in, sinking a little into the plush leather seats. She had a feeling it would be all too easy to get used to little luxuries like this.
“Everything all right at home?” Adam started the ignition.
“That was Bolton.” She filled him in on the short conversation as he backed out of the drive, ending with, “He’s probably blowing smoke, right? Has to be. But I figure I’ll check it out. If nothing else, it will give me the chance to put the fear of God in him, so he’ll back off on his threats to drag Royce into this.” Another thought occurred. The reporter had mentioned writing up a sample chapter of innuendoes about her son. Maybe he was going to present her with it.
Her spine stiffened. If that were the case, she’d use the writing as proof of his harassment. But whatever the man was up to, it ended today. “The
Gazette
isn’t all that far from headquarters. You can drop me off, and I’ll pick up some sandwiches on my way back. It’s only a few blocks on foot.”
“That’s one option.”
She shot him a narrowed look. “And that’s Adamspeak for no way in hell. I know your lingo, buddy.”
“Obviously, you do.” He didn’t take his attention off the road. “But if you knew me as well as you thought, you would never have considered seeing him alone.”
“We went over this last night.”
“Yes, I recall. I promise not to ride in on my white horse. But if the outcome of your meeting is not to your liking, we do things my way.”
She considered his words. Figured she wasn’t going to get a better deal. But one way or the other, within the hour she was going to get a few more answers.
Cody Tweed pulled the black panel van into the parking garage and waited for his ticket. The garage would be fairly full, despite its size. Parking in DC was always at a premium. Any slots left would likely be on top, several stories up, out in the elements. But that wouldn’t be the special spot he’d be looking for.
He cruised around, saw several areas that would work on the second level. Away from the prying eyes of parking attendants. Of course all of the spaces were filled. He’d expected no less.
It took two trips around for him to settle on the perfect spot. An older model Nissan Pathfinder was parked there. Pathfinders were easy marks. They may as well come with a neon arrow.
Pick me. Here I am.
Cody wasn’t one to ignore signs.
Checking for cars behind him, he waited for one white Cadillac to move by before getting out of the van with his tools and approaching the driver’s door of the Pathfinder. Ten seconds to slide the small wedge of plastic into the seam where the door met the body of the vehicle. Pry it open slightly, slip in the larger plastic wedge to act as a doorstop. He sent one quick look over his shoulder. Another car was passing slowly by, but he’d appear to be just another guy fumbling for his keys. Cody waited until the vehicle went past before sliding the long, thick wire wrapped with a rubber band at the top into the opening provided by the wedge. Two tries. Three before he reached the unlock button and slid it back. Less than a minute and the door was open. Another ten seconds to find and memorize the ignition key-code number, and he headed back to the van. It took a little over five minutes to make a duplicate key with the portable key maker, during which time he received a couple more irritated looks as people drove by.
He grinned. They didn’t know irritated.
The key ready, he backed his van up a ways and got in the Pathfinder, reversed out of the space, and pulled ahead several yards before getting out again to back the van into the prime spot he’d chosen. He locked up and then got back in the Nissan, started trolling for a new spot somewhere near the top of the garage. He didn’t give a shit where. The clock on the dash said he had an hour to set up his shot. Plenty of time, because he had it timed to the minute.
That’s what professionals did.
“The offer’s still open.”
Adam had double-parked at the end of the street. Noted that Bolton was already pacing nervously outside the
Gazette
building, a manila envelope in his hand. Jaid paused, one hand on the door handle. “I’ll let you know if I need reinforcements.”
He nodded. She had the odd sense that she had disappointed him. Or maybe he was just let down that he was missing the upcoming scene. “Maybe I’ll drive around the block a few times until you’re done.”
“Don’t bother.” Although the sun was shining brightly today, the temps had settled into the forties. That might seem balmy in Minnesota, but it was about twenty degrees cooler than her personal comfort zone. “One way or another, this isn’t going to take long. If a traffic cop comes along, flash him your ID.”
“I look forward to it.”
Smiling at his unenthusiastic tone, she got out of the car and rounded the hood, waiting for a break in traffic before she darted across the street.
The reporter noticed her when she hit the sidewalk. But he let her come to him. “Marlowe. You’re looking as delicious as ever. Ready for me to rock your world?”
She managed, barely, to avoid rolling her eyes. “I have a feeling I’m just one in a long line of women who will wait in vain for that to happen, Bolton.”
He sent a suspicious look across the street, where Adam waited in the car. “Is that Shepherd? I told you to come alone.”
“As a matter of fact, you didn’t, but here I am. Alone. What do you have?”
The excitement was back in his tone. And its appearance made her wonder if she’d misjudged the man’s intentions about the purpose of this meeting. “Okay, last night about three A.M. someone was pounding on my door. But no one’s there. Just this”—he held up the envelope—“in the mailbox. I didn’t bring it in right away. I mean, I’m thinking bomb, anthrax, right? Gotta be careful these days. But after about fifteen minutes the package starts to
ring
. So yeah, there’s a phone in there. I finally figure what the hell and go out and answer it.”

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