Two
Zach lingered over the case file, stretching out the time it would normally take him and defying his genius IQ and speed-reading abilities. Today his emotions, rather than his brain, were taking the lead. His mind was on his fiancée, Sheri, and a vow he’d made regarding his future family, the one he’d almost lost hope of realizing. He’d told himself that if the day ever came that he had a wife and children, he’d leave the BAU. Now the promise—spoken many years ago and only to himself—sank in his chest like a heavy weight, sucking air from his lungs, haunting him. He had a feeling the day of reckoning was finally here.
But these people—Jack, Paige, and Brandon—were also family. It hurt to think of leaving them. Brandon’s lips were moving slightly as he read. Paige was leaned back in her seat, her legs up, knees to chest as she studied the file. Jack was looking back at him.
“Did you want to give everyone an overview?” he asked.
Paige and Brandon set their files on the table. Paige put her legs down.
“The missing woman is Jenna Kelter, niece of Miami’s mayor, Walter Conklin,” Zach began, willing his mind to focus on the case. “Apparently, he’s Kelter’s only living blood relative, but she was reported missing at two o’clock this morning by her husband, Gordon Kelter. It’s believed that her disappearance is connected with two prior murder cases given the similarities in victimology.”
“They must be quite apparent to jump on this so quickly,” Brandon said and looked at Jack.
Jack nodded his head toward Zach.
Zach went on. “Now Jenna Kelter was charged with DUI vehicular homicide four years ago. The other two murder victims—Kent West and Marie Sullivan—shared the same charge. Eighteen years ago, West drove off the road and into a building, killing three of his college friends who were in the car with him. Within that year he was charged for three counts and sentenced to twelve years, which he served. Sullivan’s accident was seven years ago. She killed a husband and father and served four years.”
“And Kelter?” Paige asked.
Zach heard her question, but his mind drifted to Sheri again and the surprise she’d had for him the night he’d proposed. It was a secret he’d been keeping from his colleagues these last couple of months, a secret that would change his and Sheri’s lives.
“Zach?” Paige pressed and glanced at the others.
“Uh, yeah.” He snapped out of it and refocused. “Her accident was five years ago, took about a year to go to trial. She was given and served four years in prison. She was just released this past Thursday. West and Sullivan were abducted three days after release from prison, and their heads showed up three days later.” He listened to himself recap the case so robotically, so matter-of-factly. Since when did macabre crimes become so mundane, spoken about as if reciting something of no importance? These were people’s lives he was talking about, and yet, he’d become calloused to that fact over the years. What would another eight years with the BAU do to him? Do to his future family?
Brandon cleared his throat, and Zach turned to him. “You said they were abducted three days after release? Kelter was reported missing on Monday morning, but her husband last saw her on Sunday,” Brandon said, pulling from the file. “Exactly three days after her release.”
“That’s right,” Zach confirmed.
“Is there any indication where West, Sullivan, and now possibly Kelter were abducted?” Paige asked.
“Unfortunately, not,” Zach started. “I would say that it seems our unsub may have an interest in the number three. It’s present in the timing of the abductions, when the heads are found, and the occurrence of the murders. West was killed six years ago, Sullivan three years ago, and now, there’s Kelter.”
“I agree,” Jack said.
Zach swallowed roughly, knowing already that this unidentified subject would be one for the books. The case would likely only get darker from here, and far uglier. It was the ugly that Zach had become stained with while working for the BAU, and he feared it might never wash off. But he’d have to learn to bury it if he was going to make a fresh start.
“It’s believed the decapitations were the cause of death,” Zach continued, “and the rest of the victims’ bodies were never found. The medical examiners working the West and Sullivan cases both described the cuts to their necks as being smooth and clean. Neither wagered a hypothesis on what was used to sever the heads.” He found himself falling into a rhythm. “Their heads showed very few signs of decomp, but there was some insect activity. The presence of blowfly eggs indicated that West’s head was decapitated within twenty-four hours of discovery. Same for Sullivan. But neither’s time of death could be pinpointed further than that.”
“That’s discouraging,” Paige lamented.
“That’s what we’re dealing with,” Zach said, sounding cooler than he’d intended. He was still battling with the reality of his personal life. It had all happened so quickly; he’d gone from being single, to engaged, to an expectant father. He’d known for a couple months, but it still struck him as surreal most of the time.
But he was at work now. He had to get a grip and focus on this case. Kelter’s life depended on it. He took the photos of West’s and Sullivan’s heads from the file. “As you can see from the pictures, both were wrapped in plastic bags, surrounded by tissue paper, and placed in boxes.”
Paige pointed out a paragraph from one of the case documents. “West’s head was left on the steps of Miami-Dade County Courthouse?” Her gaze met Zach’s. “Rather brazen.”
“Well, if you keep reading, you’ll see that video captured the box being dropped off at three thirty in the morning. It wasn’t discovered until start of business by a young defense attorney named Brianna King.”
“We’ve got this picture.” Jack held up a black-and-white photo of a person in a hoodie, but the quality made it hard to make out if it was a man or a woman. “It was taken from the video that Zach just mentioned.”
“But obviously it hasn’t gotten the locals anywhere,” Brandon said.
“Obviously,” Jack said drily, and Brandon’s cheeks flushed red.
Brandon jutted out his chin. “And the other head was dropped off…” He consulted the file, seeming eager to discover the answer himself.
What he was looking for was buried much deeper than where he was looking. “Sullivan’s head was delivered to her attorney’s office—Hanover & Smith, LLP,” Zach said. “It was signed for by the woman at the front desk.”
“Brazen again,” Brandon said, and he and Paige nodded to each other. “No lead there, either, I take it.”
Jack shook his head. “No video either. Now, Sullivan’s head was delivered by Miami Messenger, a local delivery service, but Miami PD found nothing there. The law office often used the service, but they didn’t have any record of a delivery scheduled for the time and date in question. The delivery people were interviewed at length; their backgrounds checked out, and they were cleared. All we have is the description of a nice-looking man with brown hair.”
Brandon drank some of his coffee. “Do we think that the killer is delivering the heads themself? Then again, it could be someone they are working with or someone they pay to drop them off.”
“Far too early to answer that question,” Zach started. “But it’s possible that our unsub could like to see the reactions to their work firsthand.”
Brandon winced. “Very risky.”
“Did anything stand out about the delivery boxes?” Paige asked.
Zach shook his head. “No. They were just standard white boxes with lids. Similar to the kind used in bakeries for cakes. They could have been purchased from any office supply store or postal outlet.” He paused a moment. “You also might have noticed from the photographs that the victims’ eyes were shut. They were glued—standard adhesive, nothing traceable. Again, no lead there.”
“The unsub could’ve felt remorse or judged with their eyes on him,” Paige wagered.
“Or the unsub wanted to be the last thing their victims saw,” Brandon offered.
Zach’s mind wandered again, his thoughts going to all the death encased within one investigation. Beyond the murders, there was the loss of life caused by the various car accidents. The world of the BAU was drenched in bloodshed. How could he possibly turn off the job as he played with his pure, innocent child? The images, the massacre, would always be there, burned into his brain. But if he was being honest, that was the least of his concerns. One day the job could claim far more than his sanity.