-
Thursday, October 24th, 7:05 AM Local Time
“A sniping took place in Arlington, Virginia, in the Clarendon District about an hour ago, at oh-six-hundred hours, outside of a condo building called Wilson Place.”
FBI Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Jack Harper started his briefing with one heck of a punch. Jack was my boss and the leader of a team with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, which consisted of myself Brandon Fisher, Paige Dawson, and a new member, Kelly Marsh. Kelly was a former homicide detective with the Miami Police Department and had recently replaced Zach Miles, who took a desk job as an FBI analyst because he was starting a family and wanted to increase his chances of returning home at night. Risk was minimal behind a monitor versus staring down the barrel of a gun held by a psychopath—which we did far more often then I’d like.
The team was in a conference room at the FBI office in Quantico, Virginia, and I was seated directly across the table from Jack. Arlington was essentially our neighbor, but I wasn’t overly familiar with the city’s segments. “Clarendon? What kind of neighborhood is that?”
“Clarendon is in the downtown area, near the Courthouse District. Lots of condo buildings, upper-class.” Jack responded without enthusiasm, proof he wasn’t too thrilled that I’d cut in with questions before he’d finished laying out the situation. He continued. “Several civilians have been taken to the hospital for stress-induced illnesses. Panic attacks and the like, but there is only one reported casualty. A prosecuting attorney by the name of Darrell Reid.”
I’d keep my thoughts to myself for now, but prosecutors, by the very nature of their jobs, attracted enemies—though revenge usually took the form of a bullet from a handgun or a stabbing, maybe strangulation. So why had he been taken out so dramatically?
“We’ve been asked to look at the evidence, establish a profile on the sniper, and conduct a threat analysis,” Jack said. “We need to know what we’re dealing with here. Was this an isolated incident, or are more attacks planned?”
I looked at Kelly, her shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, and…neon-green nail polish? To each her own, but I also couldn’t help but think that for her first case with the BAU, she’d netted an anomaly. Our team was normally assigned to profile and track down serial killers, but a shooting like the one in Arlington, given its vicinity to Washington, DC, needed to be handled swiftly.
“My guess is the area’s busy this time of day,” Paige started. “The fact there was only one death makes it seem like Reid was targeted.”
“I thought the same,” I admitted, “but why such a drastic means for taking him out? Regardless, we’re looking for a skilled sniper. Someone who is former military or law enforcement? Someone who still is?”
Jack looked at me with a serious expression.
“The sniper might be skilled, but not necessarily intelligent.” Kelly tossed out, and we all looked at her.
“We’re listening,” I said, challenging her to continue. When Kelly and I had first met during an investigation this past spring, we hadn’t exactly hit it off: we butted heads repeatedly. It had taken facing down a serial killer together to morph the dynamics of our relationship into something congenial.
“Let’s say Reid was the target.” She gestured, her arm shooting out emphatically, her green polish grabbing my attention again. “Why not shoot several people to throw off the investigation? We wouldn’t know who the intended victim was, and it would take longer to hunt down motive.”
“We’re just getting started. Motive is likely still a long way off,” I peacocked. “Besides, it’s also possible the sniper could have missed the intended target and hit Reid by mistake.”
“Not based on what’s come in to us,” Jack stated sourly. “Reid was hit directly in the chest. Now each of you has a folder.” He laid a hand on his and gestured to the ones in front of each of us on the table. “Nadia prepared them, but there’s very little there.”
Nadia Webber was our assigned analyst who worked out of Quantico along with us. But while our work mostly took us into the field, she remained holed up in a windowless office.
The three of us opened our folders. As Jack had said, there wasn’t much. Only Reid’s driver’s license photo blown up to letter size, his basic background, and contact information for the building’s management.
“Nadia’s in communication with officers on the ground and is gathering as much intel as she can,” Jack added.
Kelly held Reid’s background in one hand and pressed a fingertip to the full-page photo of Reid. “What do we know about him besides he was a prosecutor?”
“Nothing much. Everything we know is in there.” Jack nudged his head toward the file. “Keep in mind that the first rule of profiling is never jump to a motive. We do that, and we might as well hand in our badges. Our priority right now is whether or not we can rule out terrorism.”
Kelly slid her bottom lip through her teeth, clearly uncomfortable by Jack’s mini lecture. But she’d appeared frazzled from the moment she came in the door this morning, as if she were running behind and trying to catch up. She’d come to realize soon enough that this job usually felt like that. After all, we were usually steps behind the unsubs, the unidentified subjects.
Kelly scanned the file. “You mentioned terrorism, Jack, but on the surface, Reid doesn’t seem your typical terrorist’s target. And don’t terrorists like to make a bigger splash? The more blood spilled, the better?”
“It’s far too early to rule out Reid’s attractiveness to a terrorist. We don’t know enough about him,” Jack replied and studied his new agent as if he were just getting to know her. But part of why I hadn’t liked Kelly at first was because she and Jack seemed to know each other too well. As it turned out, Jack had served in the military with her grandfather and had known Kelly from her days at the FBI Academy.
Kelly’s eyes pinched with concentration. “As a prosecutor, sure, he’d make enemies, but given how he was killed, maybe we’re looking at a hired gun.”
“Which would also imply he was targeted, but it’s too soon.” Jack’s tone was cool, correcting, and one I recognized well from my days as a rookie agent—days that were only two years behind me. Any concern I had that Kelly would receive special treatment due to her past connection with Jack was eroding with his rebukes.
“Let’s move.” Jack stood, and the rest of us followed and headed toward the door. “Brandon, you’ll be with Paige, and Kelly, you’ll come with me. We’ll meet at ground zero. When you get there, ask for Captain Anthony Herrera from the Homeland Security Division of the Arlington Police Department.”
My heart paused in dread: I am paired with Paige. Guess I should have seen it coming. Jack had mentored me as a new agent, and now it was Kelly’s turn. I put on a smile for Paige’s benefit, and she returned it, but her expression faded as quickly as mine. Let’s just say we had a past, which held no place in the present.
I’d been a student at the FBI Academy, and she, a teacher. In a moment of weakness, I’d ignored the fact I was married, and we fell into bed together—more than once. Big mistake, and nothing to be proud of. That might have happened four years ago, but our efforts to bury the past were thwarted when we’d both ended up on Jack’s team. And it didn’t help that a lingering attraction and unexplored feelings were still there.
“That’s not a problem, is it?” Jack had his gaze set on me. He had found out about Paige and me, but he let us sort things out, making it clear it wasn’t an option for us to fraternize romantically and remain on his team.
“No, not at all. It’s fine.” That’s what I said, even as sirens were sounding in my head.
I was divorced now, not because of my affair with Paige, but rather just irreconcilable differences. My ex couldn’t stand my job with the FBI. Again, nothing to do with Paige being my colleague. Anyway, Paige and I were making the best of it, and I was currently in a relationship with Becky, an officer from a neighboring county.
“Just keep your mind about you out there,” Jack cautioned all of us. “The sniper’s probably long gone, but there’s the chance they’ve stuck around to peck off some law enforcement. Vests are mandatory.”
Before the four of us made it to the door, Nadia entered the room.
“I haven’t been able to uncover any other shootings in the DC/Virginia area that are similar to this one,” she informed us.
“Expand the geography and keep looking.” Jack brushed past her.
The one thing that Kelly would quickly learn about Jack was that he liked answers, not updates for the sake of updates. Sometimes even those of us who had worked with him for years failed to remember that if we weren’t providing new information, we were a hindrance.