“A pilot?” Drew asked, needing to confirm what he’d just heard Lonnie say regarding her nephew, Corben. A pounding began in Drew’s head that competed with the sound of traffic from the nearby Seattle freeway echoing off the outside walls of Virginia Mason Hospital and swirling through the courtyard where they stood.
Lonnie nodded. “He joined the air force when he graduated from high school. He missed the Gulf War and was out before the Iraq war. But he served his country and was able to move right into a job with the airline,” Lonnie said with obvious pride in her voice.
“Which hub city does he fly out of?” Sami asked. Her voice, though modulated, couldn’t hide the vibration of anticipation.
“Here at Sea-Tac.”
“You said he also flies planes for a private company?”
“Yes. The Smithen Group. Several businessmen banded together and bought a jet. They have six pilots on retainer. They rotate as they are available. Corben says they pay well.” Lonnie frowned. “Please don’t go dredging up Becca’s murder. Corben has been doing so good.”
“You mentioned he was in therapy,” Sami said. “Can you tell us the name of the doctor?”
“Dr. Cantwell. She has an office in the administration center across the freeway,” Lonnie said. “Through art therapy she was able to coax Corben out of his shell. She worked wonders with him.”
They needed to talk to Dr. Cantwell. “You said Corben is based here in Seattle. Does he live with you?” Drew asked.
“No, he shares a house with coworkers in Renton. A nearby suburb.”
“Do you have a picture of your nephew?” Sami asked.
She shook her head. “Not on me.”
“What can you tell us about Corben’s father?” Drew asked.
Lonnie’s mouth twisted. “Becca wouldn’t talk about him. I half suspect she didn’t know who he was. She wasn’t very discriminating in her love life.” Lonnie looked at her watch. “I really need to get back on the floor.”
“We understand,” Drew said. “One last question. Why did your sister take Corben to Victoria?”
Lonnie sighed. “I have no idea. We hadn’t spoken to each other in years. She moved to the Midwest after our parents passed on. I assume they were there on vacation. That’s what the police told me. Now, I really must go.” She hurried back inside the hospital.
“I’m texting Jordon now,” Sami said. “He’ll track down Corben’s address in Renton and pull his DMV records and pilot’s credentials.”
Drew checked the passenger manifest for Corben’s name. It wasn’t on the list. Though as wily as Birdman appeared to be, Drew figured that if Corben was their guy, he most likely had a fake ID to use when committing his crimes.
They walked back into the hospital and stopped at the admitting desk. The helpful volunteer manning the desk gave them directions to the building where they would find Dr. Cantwell. Agent Talbot drove them the short half mile to the Virginia Mason Seattle Administration Center. Sami led the way up the stairs to Dr. Cantwell’s office on the fifth floor.
They quickly found the correct office and entered into a calming blue-and-brown-toned waiting area with comfortable faux-leather chairs and couches. A woman sat behind a partition with a sliding Plexiglas window. A closed door to the right of the reception desk was closed and a sign on the door read In Session.
There were two people waiting. An older man who appeared to be sleeping and a middle-aged woman reading a magazine.
The receptionist smiled as they approached. “Can I help you?”
Drew showed his badge.
Sami did the same. “We need a moment with the doctor.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “She’s in session. I can’t disturb her unless it’s an emergency.”
“How long until she’s available?” Drew asked.
“This client’s time will be up in ten minutes, but Dr. Cantwell has a full schedule and doesn’t like to get behind.”
“Too bad. We’ll wait ten minutes and no more,” Sami stated. “And for the record, this is an urgent matter.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll send the doctor a quick note.” Her fingers went to the keyboard of the computer at her side.
Drew sat while Sami paced. He could see the jumble of thoughts playing through her mind. Her face was easy to read. Obviously, she was excited at the prospect of finding Corben and pinning the murders on him. Drew didn’t begrudge her the need for closure on her friend’s brutal death.
Yet Sami was a good investigator and knew they didn’t have enough facts to support their theory that Corben Kraft was indeed Birdman. They needed more than a hunch that Birdman managed to cross the international border as an airline pilot.
Exactly ten minutes later the doctor’s office door opened. A teenage girl walked out, her eyes downcast. The woman in the waiting area set aside the magazine, rose and put an arm around the girl. Together they left. Drew wondered what trauma had made the girl seek therapy.
“You may go in,” the receptionist said.
Sami didn’t waste any time; she stalked toward the door. Drew followed, putting his hand at the small of her back as they entered the office. They found the good doctor seated behind a large mahogany desk fronted by two leather chairs. Drew gauged the doctor’s age to be early sixties. Streaks of gray had invaded her dark hair, which was held back by a clip. She had cool green eyes and a polite smile.
She rose but kept her fingers clasped together in front of her. “I’m Dr. Cantwell. Jenny tells me you have an urgent matter you wish to discuss.”
Sami showed her badge. “I’m Special Agent Bennett, and this is RCMP Inspector Kelley.”
Dr. Cantwell inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Please, have a seat.” She sat and indicated the two chairs.
“We have some questions regarding one of your patients. Corben Kraft,” Sami said.
The doctor’s brows puckered ever so slightly. “You do know that doctor-patient privilege precludes me from discussing any patient without the patient’s written consent. HIPAA and all that.”
“We understand,” Drew said. The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act provided privacy protection to US citizens just as the Health Information Protection Act protected Canadian citizens. “We just need some general questions answered, nothing that would violate any laws.”
Dr. Cantwell gave him a small smile. “I’m sure you believe that and maybe in Canada things work differently, but here there is very little I can say.”
“Can you confirm that Corben Kraft is your patient?” Sami pressed.
Steepling her hands, Dr. Cantwell regarded Sami with evident curiosity. “What do the FBI and—” she turned her gaze to Drew “—the Royal Canadian Mounted Police want with Corben?”
“We’re reopening the murder of his mother,” Sami said.
Drew slanted her a glance and kept the surprise from his expression. He wasn’t sure he’d have played that card just yet. But he’d come to trust Sami’s judgment. He turned his focus on the doctor to assess her reaction.
Surprise crossed Dr. Cantwell’s face. “Really?” She sat back. “Well, that is interesting.”
“How so?” Drew asked.
Again she sent him that small smile as if he were an errant child who needed schooling. “I’m sure the police report stated that Corben was deeply traumatized by the violent nature of his mother’s death.”
“Yes,” Sami confirmed. “We spoke with his aunt, who became his guardian.”
“Lonnie,” Dr. Cantwell said. “Such a nice woman.”
“When did you stop seeing Corben?” Sami asked.
Dr. Cantwell’s eyebrows rose. “What makes you think he stopped coming to see me?”
Slick. Though the doctor didn’t answer the question directly, she revealed that Corben was still under her care. Did she know something about Corben that she wanted to tell them but was prevented from saying by the law and her Hippocratic oath?
“Lonnie said that art therapy helped Corben. What exactly is art therapy?” Sami asked.
“Art therapy combines psychotherapeutic practices with creativity and artistic methods to improve mental health and well-being.” She gestured to the corner of the office at a table cluttered with art material—paints, brushes, drawing pencils and pads of various sizes. Even modeling clay.
“I use a variety of art media to help children and adults process a wide spectrum of mental and physical issues. The purpose is to have the patient express their internal images, feelings, thoughts and ideas,” Dr. Cantwell explained.
“What sort of images did Corben express?” Sami asked. She sat on the edge of her seat, nearly bouncing with pent-up energy.
Dr. Cantwell reached for a large leather-bound book on the shelf behind her. “I keep a portfolio of my patients’ work. With their permission, of course. It helps demonstrate the type of therapy I do for new clients.” She flipped open the book and turned several pages before landing on one. She spun the book so they could look at the open page from the correct perspective.
Drew heard Sami’s sharp intake of breath. His own breath stalled as he stared at the crude drawing of a bird. A bird like the ones Birdman used as his signature at the crime scenes of the women he’d murdered.
“Do you know the significance of the bird?” Drew asked.
Dr. Cantwell shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
Sami took the book to look closer at the drawing. “Corben never told you why he drew this bird?”
“Draws birds,” the doctor said softly.
Drew took her words to mean Corben was still drawing birds. Did the doctor know what Corben had been up to recently? If he’d confided in her, that he intended to kill, she’d be criminally remiss in not reporting it. But if he hadn’t revealed his intent, then she had to keep his sessions with her confidential.
Dr. Cantwell sat back and regarded them with interest in her expression. “There’s more going on than reopening a thirty-year-old cold case, isn’t there?”
Sami lifted her gaze to Drew. He could read the question in her blue eyes. Did they confide in the doctor in hopes she’d cooperate and give them information that could help bring Corben to justice?
He nodded at Sami’s unspoken question. Corben already knew they were onto him. He’d tried to kill Sami three times. They needed a break in this case, and if the doctor could provide some help, then they had to tell her what was at stake.
Sami turned to the doctor. “Corben Kraft is a person of interest in a string of murders.”
Drew watched Dr. Cantwell closely for some sign of surprise. The woman’s face went completely blank. She blinked several times as if processing the information Sami had just divulged. She did know something.
“Do you have proof?” Dr. Cantwell asked.
Sami held up the drawing in the book. “The killer leaves bird drawings exactly like this one at the crime scenes.”
The doctor sat up. “Really? That is curious.” Her gaze narrowed. “You will need a judge’s order for me to hand over the files you want to see.”
The subtle meaning behind her words wasn’t lost on Drew. The doctor wanted them to see Corben’s file, but she also had to protect the integrity of her practice.
“We’ll get one,” Sami said.
“Please come back when you do.” Dr. Cantwell rose, her expression troubled. “Now, my other patients are waiting. Good day, officers.”
Sami set the book on the desk.
As they left, Drew cast a glance over his shoulder. The crude bird depicted on the page seemed to mock them.
* * *
“A judge’s order will take a couple of hours,” Sami said after hanging up with her boss. “Until then let’s concentrate on Corben.”
They were seated in the black SUV with Agent Talbot at the wheel. He started the engine. “Do you have an address?”
Sami checked her phone. Sure enough, Jordon had found Corben Kraft’s Renton address. Agent Talbot plugged it into the SUV’s navigation system and then they were off, weaving through Seattle’s congested freeways.
Jordon had also sent Corben’s driver’s license photo. The man in the picture bore a resemblance to her attacker but she couldn’t be sure until they picked Corben up. Though height and weight were close to what she remembered, the DMV listed his hair color as blond, his eyes as gray.
They arrived at a white two-story single-family home in a residential neighborhood bordered by a park and a middle school. The front lawn was brown and the shrubs overgrown. Sami was sure the neighbors weren’t too happy with the lack of yard care.
Talbot brought the vehicle to a halt. They got out and filed up the walkway to the front door with Drew leading the trio. Once they were on the porch, Sami stepped next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Well, almost. She liked that he was taller than her. She also liked how well they worked together, as if they’d been partnered forever rather than a few days.
Talbot took up a rear position to watch their backs as Drew rang the bell. A few seconds later the door opened and a tall man wearing a pilot’s uniform greeted them.
“Hello. Can I help you?” He had dark graying hair and a mustache, both of which looked very real. He was not the man who’d attacked her on the ferry.
“We need to speak with Corben Kraft,” she said briskly as she held up her identification.
Surprise widened the man’s hazel eyes. “He’s not here. I haven’t seen Corben in months.”
“Do you have ID?” Drew asked, beating Sami to the question.
She glanced at him, pleased that their thoughts were so in sync. A good thing in a partner. Would they be so compatible if they weren’t in the middle of an investigation?
She mentally pushed that question aside. Letting herself go down that particular path wouldn’t lead to some rosy romance. Better to remember he was her partner on a case, not a potential life mate.
The man reached into his back pocket and produced a leather wallet. He flipped it open to show his Washington State driver’s license, which gave his name as Alec Delany.
“Corben doesn’t live here?” Drew asked, returning to their reason for the visit.
Sami watched Alec closely to determine if the man was a liar or not.
“Oh, he does, when he’s in town,” Alec said.
Deciding Alec was telling the truth, she asked, “May we come in?” She wanted to see Corben’s domain. Hopefully, they’d find something to lead them to him.
“Sure.” The man stepped aside to allow them to enter. “What is this about?”
The inside of the house was better maintained than the outside, though the living room was sparsely furnished with only a couch, coffee table and a television. No pictures on the walls, no books on the table. Not even a throw pillow. Not very homey.
“We need to find Corben, Mr. Delany.” Sami looked at the man expectantly. “Do you know where he goes when he’s not working?”
Alec shook his head. “I barely know him.”
“But you work with Corben?” Drew asked.
“You could say that, I guess.” Alec frowned. “We work for the same airline, but we don’t pull the same shifts. And he has a second job that often takes him out of town.”
Noticing different sizes of shoes on a rack inside the entryway, Sami asked, “How many people live in the house?”
Alec gave her a half smile. “Well, that depends on the day. Several pilots use the house as a crash pad between flights. Corben owns the house, so he has the master bedroom, which is off-limits to the rest of us. I rent one of the upstairs bedrooms. The other two bedrooms have a revolving door.”
“Interesting.” And weird. Sami didn’t like the idea of people coming and going. “Is there anyone else on the premises?”
“Nope, just me today. I have a twenty-four-hour layover before I fly back out.”
“So where does Corben stay when he’s not here?” Drew asked.
Alec shrugged. “Beats me. Like I said, I don’t know him very well.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Drew asked.
Alec thought for a moment. “Around Mother’s Day. Has he done something wrong?”
“We have some questions for him,” Sami hedged, not willing to reveal what they suspected. Who knew, maybe this Alec character was in on the murders. Maybe Birdman did have accomplices. She made a mental note to have Jordon dig into Alec Delany’s background. “You wouldn’t happen to have a picture of Corben, would you?”
Shaking his head, Alec replied, “No. He’s kind of funny about cameras. Gets really upset if anyone tries to take his picture. He’s a bit of an odd duck.”
“How so?” Drew asked.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Alec said. “Keeps to himself when he’s here. And from what I’ve heard the others say, he’s not a joy to work with. No personality, you know. If you’re copiloting with him, be prepared to work in silence.”
“Can you show us his room?” Sami asked.
“Uh, sure, I guess.” Uncertainty crossed Alec’s face. “Don’t you need a search warrant or something?”
Sami ground her teeth but she fought to keep her frustration out of her tone. “Are you refusing? Makes me think you have something to hide.”
Alec tucked in his chin. “Me? No, nothing to hide. Though I should contact Corben and get his permission before letting you into his room.”
“You have a way of contacting him?” Drew asked, his voice sharp. “We need that information.”
“I have his cell phone number.” Alec fished his phone out of a briefcase on the dining room table. He scrolled through and found the number.
Sami placed her hand over Alec’s, stopping him before he could push the dial button. “We need that number.”
Alec relinquished the phone. She handed it off to Agent Talbot. “Find out if Kraft’s phone is on and get a location on him.”
Talbot nodded and took the phone outside.
“Hey, I need that,” Alec protested.
“You’ll get it back,” Sami promised. “Look, we’re up against a ticking clock. A man’s life is at stake.” At least she hoped James Clark was still alive but she wasn’t holding her breath with hope. “It would be so much better for you if you cooperate and let us peek into Corben’s room. You wouldn’t want to obstruct justice, would you?”
“Of course not.” Alec pointed toward the kitchen. “His suite is on the other side of the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” she said, and slipped past him with Drew on her heels.
They passed through the clean though outdated kitchen with worn linoleum and chipped pea-green laminate countertops. A short hallway led to a closed door. She paused outside the door. Alec said he hadn’t seen Corben in months but that didn’t mean their suspect couldn’t be inside that room.
If it had indeed been Corben who’d tried to push her over the ferry railing, then he could very well have come home and could be waiting for them.
With her hand on the butt of her holstered weapon, Sami turned the knob and swung the door open. The large master bedroom was crowded with boxes stacked in every corner. A queen-size bed was topped with books and art supplies. Clothes were strewn across the floor, making Sami think of what her bedroom had looked like when she was a teenager.
Drew checked the adjacent bathroom. “Clear.”
Pulling on a pair of gloves, Sami walked to the bed and inspected the paints, brushes and colored pencils. She found a box marked Stamps. She opened the lid to reveal several ink pads and a collection of rubber stamps in various sizes. All of the stamps had the same exact bird image. A label on the lid of one ink pad gave the name of a company.
Obviously, Corben had uploaded his crude drawing and had custom stamps made of it. Another box had custom-made stickers with the same bird image. There was a stack of drawing pads, as well.
Sami knew what she’d find even as she opened the top pad. More images of the same bird.
Why this bird? Why did Corben draw only the same bird over and over again?
The edge of an envelope peeked out from between the stacks of drawing books. Gingerly, she slid the letter-sized plain white envelope out and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper. Carefully, she opened the sheet.
The words scrawled across the page in red pencil screamed at her.
“Special Agent Samantha Bennett, how clever are you?”
She gasped as the implications ran through her mind. Corben had known she’d find him and this place eventually.
How long ago had he written it? Had he followed them to his aunt’s workplace? To his doctor’s?
Or was this a trap? She needed to warn Drew and Talbot. “Drew!”
“Sami, you need to see this,” Drew called from inside the walk-in closet.
Holding the sheet of paper by the edge, Sami hurried to the closet and halted abruptly.
There were no clothes hanging from the rods, no shoes lined up along the floor. Instead the closet was some sort of shrine to Birdman’s madness. The sides of the walls in the small tight space were covered with more bird images and photos.
Corben had documented his killing spree.
Though she stood on solid ground, her stomach roiled as if the world had suddenly shifted.
Drew faced her and stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath.”
She stared at his concerned face, focusing on him rather than the panic creeping over her, and did as he instructed. Then slowly, he turned her around while still holding on to her shoulders.
Her gaze landed on a collage of photos on the back wall of the closet.
Photos of her.