When Logan, Alex, and Kaely arrived at the Montgomery County police station, they were led to a conference room toward the back of a busy squad room. Although this would be a joint task force, the police chief wasn’t setting up a command post in a separate location. At this time, no other special units would join them. The BAU was just there to provide a profile to help the police track down their unknown subject.
Most of the looks they got as they passed through were friendly, but Logan noticed that a few officers didn’t seem too pleased to see them. They had no reason for resentment. Their chief had asked for the FBI’s help. In a high-profile case like this, the FBI had to be invited to assist. Only when it was a matter of national security, involved interstate travel or interstate communication, or was some other kind of federal case would the FBI step in. Only those circumstances made the situation their purview.
Most law enforcement officers tracking a violent unknown subject actually wanted their help. But there were always some who didn’t like the implication that they couldn’t find the UNSUB without the FBI’s help. In Logan’s mind, finding criminals before they hurt innocent people was the only important motivation. Of course, it worked both ways. He had little respect for agents who looked down on local law enforcement. Those agents didn’t seem to last long.
After escorting them to the conference room, the officer who’d shown them the way closed the door and left. They were alone. Logan glanced at his watch.
“Are you wondering about Monty?” Alex asked.
“Yeah.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After selecting Monty’s number, he listened to the phone ring over and over. When Monty’s voice mail finally kicked in, Logan left a quick message. “Hey, where are you? I know you’re afraid of your grandmother, but maybe you should be a little more concerned about Jeff.” He disconnected the call and shook his head. “Hope everything’s okay.”
“He’ll be here,” Alex said as they all sat down at a large table. “He’s been late before.”
Logan was certain Monty had taken his personal car instead of the vehicle supplied by the Bureau. He often drove the unreliable 1999 Volvo his grandmother had given him. Logan had advised him more than once to get rid of it, but Monty refused. He didn’t want to hurt his grandmother’s feelings. Maybe today he’d finally face reality.
The door to the room swung open, and three people walked in. They sat down at the table before saying anything. The man at the head was obviously the Montgomery County police chief. A tall, thin man with a hawk-like nose, he carried himself as if he expected deference. Logan was pretty sure he got it.
The man on his left was short and stocky and looked to be in his thirties. He seemed tense. The woman who sat on the chief’s right was also tall. Almost as tall as Logan. Her blond hair was pulled back and worn in a bun. She was older. Maybe early forties. She had a friendly face, and her hazel eyes had an intense quality. She wore black slacks with a white blouse and matching black jacket. She was also the only one who smiled at the group.
“Thanks for coming,” the police chief said. “I’m Chief Joshua Gorman.” He looked to his left. “This is Detective Ben Cooper.” Then he looked to his right. “And this is Detective Julie Palmer. She’s the lead detective assigned to this case.”
“Please call me Julie,” she said.
Cooper stayed silent. Detective Cooper it was.
Logan, Alex, and Kaely introduced themselves. Then Kaely said, “You’re concerned that you might have a serial?”
Chief Gorman shrugged. “Not sure. But whoever gave Davis that envelope wrote a number one on the back of a page from his book. Is he trying to tell us there’s a number two and three? I don’t know, but I think we need to make that assumption just in case, don’t you?”
Logan wasn’t so sure this was a serial killer, but he agreed with the chief. They didn’t want to wait around for a second death to find out.
“We’re looking at people who might have had a problem with Mr. Davis,” Gorman said. “With all the books he’s written about his cases, the list seems long. He helped put away a lot of criminals.”
“I’m not sure that will prove helpful,” Alex said.
Gorman frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the people he profiled are either dead or in prison,” Kaely interjected. “These were very violent criminals. Not the kind to be paroled.”
“That’s true,” Logan added. “It doesn’t hurt to check, though. I also recommend you look into Davis’s personal life. We can provide you with a copy of our Victimology Checklist. It will help you when interviewing friends, family, neighbors, and people he’s worked with down through the years. I’d offer the list to the police in Houston too, so they can assist from that end. If you work together, you can gather information faster.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“But Davis retired years ago, right?” Kaely said, looking at Logan.
“How long ago?” Julie added. “Isn’t retirement from the FBI mandatory at fifty-five?”
“It’s fifty-seven now, or after twenty years of service,” Logan said. “Davis was seventy-six when he died. He retired at fifty-five. It would be unusual for someone to wait more than twenty years to seek revenge, but all this time he’s kept his hand in by writing quite a few books and speaking at events around the country. He may have even consulted privately. Probably need to check for files at his residence or an office if he has one. Who knows who he may have angered over the years?”
“We thought of that,” Gorman said. “His wife says no to consulting. Just writing and speaking.”
“We’re already investigating,” Julie said, “but where do you think we should concentrate our efforts?”
“Look at Davis’s life in the last couple of years,” Logan said. “Ask those same family members, friends, neighbors, and associates if he’s had run-ins with anyone.”
Julie was writing notes in a small spiral notebook while Cooper used his phone. Logan liked Julie’s style. He was old school too. With a notebook, he could quickly flip through pages of notes. He’d tried using a program on his phone but eventually stopped for two reasons. First, invariably someone would call, throwing him off. The second reason should be clear to everyone in the room. Phones could be hacked, but anyone wanting his notebook would have to go through him first. He had faith he could defend himself—and his notes.
“We need to figure out what the number one on the back of the page means,” Alex said.
“I agree,” Logan said. “Maybe it doesn’t indicate other victims. But at this point, I think we should assume it has significance to our UNSUB or it wouldn’t be there.”
“As terrible as this sounds,” Alex said, “another death would help us figure out what’s going on. But right now our job is to help you find a way to get out in front of this guy. A second death just isn’t acceptable.”
“If you want information about the early days, you could contact Evan Bayne,” Kaely said. “He worked with John Davis in the beginning, when the BAU began. Of course, back then it was called the Behavioral Science Unit. Davis was the one who coined the term serial killer.”
“I understand the two had a falling out in the early nineties—thirty years ago,” Alex said. “Davis stayed with the FBI, but Bayne left after only ten years of service as an analyst. He started writing books before Davis, although Davis’s books were more popular. Sold a lot more than Bayne’s.”
“Do you know what happened between them?” Gorman asked.
Logan shook his head. “They never talked about what their disagreement was about publicly. Eventually, they appeared to put the past behind them. Both showed up at some of the same crime conventions, like the one Davis was attending here. I don’t think they were ever friends again, though.”
He frowned and looked over at Alex. “Wait. Wasn’t there some kind of lawsuit a few years ago?”
“Yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” Alex said. “Davis said Bayne wrote about a case in one of his books, giving himself credit for helping find an UNSUB because his profile was so accurate. But the case was really Davis’s. If I remember right, the suit was settled out of court.”
“Actually, Bayne would make a good suspect,” Kaely said with a smile. “But he’s in his seventies too, and he has his own life. I’m sure his books were profitable enough to make the lawsuit not much more than a bump in the road.”
“You could talk to some people who worked with Bayne,” Logan said. “We’ll give you a list. Again, not sure you’ll find anything helpful there, but it won’t hurt to rule him out. I just think your UNSUB will be someone more contemporary.”
“So we should look for someone in his past or someone in his life now?” Julie said. “You’re casting a pretty wide net.” There wasn’t any irritation in her tone. She was simply stating a fact.
“You’re right,” Logan said. “We can’t tell you much yet. Let us go over the information you’ve compiled. We’ll work the profile and do the best we can to narrow your search.”
“If you dig up anything else that might help us, please let us know,” Kaely said. “Is the Davis autopsy completed?”
“Yes,” Gorman said. “We’re expecting the report this afternoon.”
“We need that,” Logan said, “along with all your crime-scene notes. What you’ve gathered from witnesses. From family . . . Basically, everything you know, we want to know.”
“Of course. We’re at your disposal, and so are our resources,” Gorman said. “We appreciate you being available to help us. I thought because of Mr. Davis’s profession, you would be the best people to give us what we need to find this guy.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume it’s a guy?”
“Probably,” Alex said. “But again, we need time to work the profile.”
“Can you send a copy of that video to our Cyber Crimes Unit?” Logan asked. “I’d like to see if they can remove the voice distortion. Maybe they can produce the actual voice. You may need to match it against any suspects.”
“Sure,” the chief said.
“One thing to keep in mind,” Logan added, “is that the numeral one on the back of the page might not mean anything. The UNSUB may have put it there just to elicit a response. To frighten you.”
“Trust me,” Gorman said. “If this is the perp’s only victim, no one will be happier than me. But that number bothers me. A lot.”
“We may have figured out how our UNSUB was able to watch Mr. Davis,” Julie said.
Everyone waited expectantly. Thinking that Davis wasn’t actually being watched had made his death seem even more tragic and unnecessary.
“Someone at the convention noticed a drone outside the hotel the night Mr. Davis died. We’re wondering if it was there to surveil him.”
“I don’t know,” Cooper said. Logan had been wondering why he hadn’t spoken yet. He was happy to know the man could talk. “Drones are getting pretty popular. Everyone and their dog has one. It might have had nothing to do with Davis.”
“Drone or not, since the video of Mrs. Davis was prerecorded in Houston, the perp could have been in Bethesda Saturday night,” Gorman said. “The phone is at your lab in Quantico. Maybe they can also figure out when the video was recorded.”
“That won’t be hard,” Logan said. “My guess is it wasn’t too old. It had to look recent enough to fool Davis.”
The door to the room opened slowly, and Monty stepped inside. When everyone at the table looked his way, he gave them a sheepish grin. “I’m really sorry. I stopped off to see my grandmother, but when I got ready to leave, my car wouldn’t start. She called a friend of hers, who came over and got it going. Cleaned the contacts on my battery. It’s running like a charm now.”
“We’ve barely started,” Julie said with a welcoming smile.
That was hardly true, but Logan appreciated the grace extended toward Monty. It was obvious he was babbling a bit out of nervousness. Although the three law enforcement officers didn’t seem offended, Logan was still a little perturbed with him. Being a member of the BAU was a privilege. Showing up on time to important meetings seemed like a small thing to expect. He’d said something about it more than once, but here Monty was, late again. Logan worried about his friend. He didn’t want him to risk his job with the BAU.
As Monty slid into a chair next to Kaely, Chief Gorman took his cell phone from his pocket and called someone, asking them to bring everything they had on the John Davis case so far.
“What can we get you?” he asked as he put his phone back into his pocket. “I assume you’ve already had lunch?”
The three of them nodded.
“What about coffee? Or something cold?”
All four of them asked for coffee. Again the chief took out his phone. He told someone on the other end to bring coffee, along with cream and sugar. “Do you need anything else?”
Logan looked at the other agents, who all shook their heads. “We’re good,” he said.
Gorman stood, and Julie and Cooper followed suit.
“If you need me, just ask anyone in the squad room to locate me. And like I said, whatever resources we have are at your disposal.” He started toward the door but then stopped and turned around. “Thanks for coming. It’s not that we couldn’t handle this alone, but I strongly feel we have to cover every base. I don’t get this feeling very often, but when I do, I’m always right.”
“What kind of feeling do you mean?” Alex asked.
He shook his head. “It’s an instinct in my gut. I’m sure you’ve had it. Comes from spending time in law enforcement. My gut’s telling me this case won’t be easy. In spades.”
Without another word, he opened the door and walked out. His detectives followed.