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Thirty-One

Arlington, Virginia

Friday, October 25th, 1:15 PM Eastern Standard Time

Kelly glanced over at Jack behind the wheel of the SUV. They’d just left the Reids’ house and were driving down the street. She assumed they were headed back to Quantico to log the photos into evidence, but she wasn’t positive what their next step would be after that. She was about to ask Jack when his phone rang. He answered, and the caller’s voice came over the car’s speakers.

“Captain Herrera here. Forensics got a hit on fingerprints lifted from a wineglass in Pryce’s condo. We now know who our mystery woman is. Sending a picture now.”

The message icon showed on the vehicle’s display. Jack pulled to the curb, brought up the image on his phone, and held it for Kelly to see.

She’d seen that picture before—in the photos with Darrell Reid. “She’s a familiar face.”

“You think so, too?” Herrera sounded surprised, which piqued Kelly’s curiosity.

The captain wouldn’t have seen the compromising pictures yet and might not even know about them. “Where did you see her before?”

“I was going to ask the same of you.”

“Arlene Reid received some photographs of her husband with this woman,” Jack said. “Your turn.”

There was a smoldering silence on the other end.

“Captain?” Jack prompted.

A few more seconds passed before Herrera spoke. It was evident the captain wasn’t too impressed with Jack’s failure to communicate again. “Remember I mentioned a woman with chest pains yesterday, the one taken to the hospital? Well, that’s her.”

“They’d probably just left Pryce’s condo,” Jack reasoned.

Kelly wondered why she hadn’t come forward about knowing and being with Reid. Surely, she had to have heard he’d been the one killed unless— “She okay? Did something serious happen to her?” A heart attack, Kelly was screaming in her mind, remembering the horror when her grandfather had his.

“No, she was checked at the hospital and released within an hour.”

“Did she mention Reid in her statement to your officers?” Jack asked.

“Like I said, there wasn’t much conversation.”

Jack looked over at Kelly, and if there was one face that said unimpressed, she was seeing it: brow furrowed, eyes darkened, mouth set in a scowl.

“What’s her name?” Jack prompted.

“Jane Powell, thirty-five,” Herrera said. “Police brought her in for solicitation a couple years ago.”

“What was Powell’s sentence?” Kelly asked.

“Nothing. The prosecution—a.k.a. Darrell Reid—was assigned the case and had the charges dropped. Good for us, her prints weren’t removed from the system.” Herrera took a pause, then added, “You might also care to know that Powell is a self-made millionaire. She started up some jewelry line called Pixie Jewels six months after the charges were dropped. The company’s worth three million today.”

“Quite the change in luck,” Kelly said, suspicious of whether Powell’s success was at all related to Darrell Reid and what—if anything—that could mean.

“I’d say. I’ll shoot her info over now. You might want to pay her a visit.”

“No question there,” Jack replied drily. “Any updates on the missing maid?”

“As you know, we were waiting for the building manager to return. He just got back, so I have officers headed there now, and I plan to meet up with them. I’ll keep you posted on what we find.” There seemed to be an enclosed request that Jack start doing the same for the captain.

“Thanks.” Jack ended the call and selected Nadia from the favorites list. She answered on the second ring, and he got right into the reason he called. “We need you to dig a bit into a woman by the name of Jane Powell. She was Reid’s mistress. See if she has any connection to the previous victims.”

“You got it, Jack.”

“Thanks.” He clicked off and looked over at Kelly. “We just want to cover all—” Then his phone rang, and caller ID showed it was Brandon.

“Whatcha got?” Jack answered.

“We really think we’re looking for a serial killer acting of her own accord,” Paige said, and went on to explain how they’d concluded this because of the compromising photos sent to the widows and not proof of death. “Wise’s widow received pictures, too. Making three out of four, including Arlene Reid. Now, we figured our sniper has a military background, but Brandon and I think she might have been discharged, say, in the last year.”

“I see we’re going with a female sniper now?” Jack said.

“Not yet decided,” Paige said.

“You said discharged—for what?” Jack turned up the speaker volume.

“Mental instabilities, PTSD, that type of thing.” Paige’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Oh.” Kelly’s skin on the back of her neck tightened, and the hairs rose on her arms. “If we’re looking at someone with health issues, what about veteran hospitals? There have to be some in the vicinities of the crime scenes.”

The line fell silent.

“Did we lose you?” Jack asked.

“No,” Paige replied. “Hope you don’t mind, Jack, but we went ahead and spoke to Nadia. We’re seeing if she can narrow down snipers discharged in the last year with mental and emotional issues. We also asked about VA hospitals.”

Kelly felt her heart sink. Every time she thought she’d made a great suggestion, it either went bust or someone else beat her to it.

“Anyway,” Paige went on, “Nadia informed us that there’s a VA hospital right here in Albuquerque, super close to our current location.”

“We can just talk to the person in charge, see if we can get anywhere or if they’d have any names,” Brandon added.

“Let’s have Nadia do her thing first,” Jack said firmly. “We’ll make sure to have her check to see if there are any VA hospitals within close proximity of the other shooting sites. It’s possible the sniper was treated at different locations. It might help in whittling things down to a name. Unless she’s on that already?”

The ensuing silence would have given him the affirmative answer.

“With all these calls to Nadia, did you have time to track down Wise’s mistress?”

“Not yet, but Brandon and I were thinking we’d visit the hotel room where the sniper had set up their nest. We could get a feel for the place ourselves and, if we’re lucky, turn up a clue that might help us ID the sniper.”

“Probably six months too late, but keep me posted.”

“We’ve got an ID on Reid’s mistress,” Kelly shared.

“We’re headed over to see her now.” Jack ended the call.

“I knew it, Jack,” she squeezed out, though her throat felt stitched together.

“Knew what?” Displeasure seeped into his voice, and she hated that it was directed at her.

She squared her shoulders, trying to find courage to stand up to Jack.

“Knew what, Agent?”

“Fine, I guess there’s no time like the present.” It was a phrase her grandfather had said often. “I stopped suspecting we were looking at a hired gun a bit ago.”

“Why not voice your opinion before now?”

She clenched her hands, digging fingernails into palms. She had never held back saying her thoughts out loud until she’d joined Jack’s team. Hypothesizing and talking out theories were often how cases got solved: ideas sparked, epiphanies realized, and boom. It also worked the other way, knocking down rubbish and clearing the way to revelations. Really, how much longer could she just keep quiet, mind her tongue, bide herself?

Her chest pinched; her heart rate sped up. “Every time I suggest something, you knock me down. It’s met with ‘there’s not enough to go on’ or ‘it’s too early to jump to a conclusion.’ But sometimes you just need to talk out loud, see what sticks.” Jack’s scowl deepened as she spoke, but she was already in too far. “I say this respectfully, but I’m used to speaking my mind, my thoughts, suspicions, even my feelings—I know emotions are taboo to you. But it seems the rest of your team can say what they’re thinking, and you don’t jump down their throats.” Her shoulders were heaving as she watched Jack and waited for a response. He was no longer scowling. He was just watching her, his eyes scanning hers. She wished he would say something, anything. Scratch that, not anything, not that he wanted her to pack her bags and head back to the Miami PD. Maybe she could rescue herself, backpedal. “Jack, my grandfather greatly respected you. I do, too.” Her admission came as a shock to her, considering. There was a subtle flicker in his eyes—one she couldn’t read. “I didn’t mean to upset—”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” She gulped. Tears burned her eyes, thinking of losing this job. Maybe she’d spoken too bluntly, but it was freeing to get out how she was feeling. At the same time, had she been too open, too aggressive?

“Now, tell me why you don’t think it was a hired gun, Agent Marsh.”

“The evidence in front of us, including no proof that money exchanged hands.”

“We just might not have found that trail yet. It doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.”

“The fact the murders are so spread out.”

“The hit man is paid well and has the means to travel.”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “The missing maid. And, yeah, she could just be missing, but if she isn’t…” Kelly would leave alive unsaid. “She doesn’t fit the previous victimology, which could mean the sniper’s emotions are involved, and that could create a whole other mess.” Not that she had to tell him.

“The maid could have just run off, all of this a coincidence.”

She knew Jack was playing devil’s advocate, but it was trying her patience. “But the maid could be dead.” There, it was out! “And if she is, hired guns don’t typically kill people for free,” she added confidently.

Jack smirked.

Anger curdled in her stomach. “Am I missing something?”

“I was wondering how long it would take.” He pulled out a cigarette.

“How long would what take?”

“For you to stand your ground.” He lit up his cigarette and exhaled out the window. “A good agent knows when they have something, Marsh. They don’t let anyone, not even their superior, talk them out of it.”

My boss is a psychopath!

“All this—the way you’ve been indifferent with me, even rude—was a lesson?”

“It was.” He took another drag.

Kelly wasn’t sure if Jack’s confession made her more angry or relieved.

“Now that we have that out of the way, is there anything else you want to tell me?” He was grinning, lopsided, with the right side of his mouth higher than the left.

“No, I think that’s all for now.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but if he weren’t her boss, she would have punched him in the face.