34

As soon as I arrive at the field office I go straight to the interview room and call Darren out.

“Anything?”

“He’s not talking. At all.”

“Shit. We need to find that bunker. And Ling.” I twist the ring on my little finger. “How much have you told him?”

“I’ve been bombarding him with the evidence we have against him. The laptop, Jonathan’s ID of him, the Web site, the name of the club, everything. I even told him that Brooke had rolled on him and said she’d testify against him.”

“And still nothing?”

“No.” Darren rubs his face. “I don’t think we’re going to get anything from him.”

“Okay,” I say, but it’s not what I want to hear. I bite my lip. “Let’s leave him in there for a bit and see what the computer geeks have found on his office and home computers.”

We make our way downstairs and are just about to enter the computer lab when my cell rings. I flip the phone open and look at the number.

“It’s Gerard,” I say to Darren before pressing the call button. “Agent Gerard, tell me you’ve got something.”

“I’ve got something.”

I smile and grab Darren’s arm. “Yes?” I say.

“I’ve managed to get the location of the Australian girl’s Webcam.”

“What? That’s fantastic news!” I think about Ling’s parents, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific now. What parent could sit in another country knowing that their child was missing?

Gerard’s voice is full of confidence and excitement. “She’s close, too.”

“To you or us?”

“You.”

“Where is she?” This time I’m going to make it in time, in time to save Ling. It’s not going to be like Brigitte and the others.

“She’s on a property just outside of Red Bluff, California.”

“Red Bluff?” I ask Darren, having no idea where it is myself.

He nods. “North. Not far.”

“Go on,” I say to Gerard.

“I’ve been able to triangulate the signal to within about fifty yards. I checked out the property on one of our birds, and she’s on a horse ranch. You got a pen?”

“Hold on.” I think about the dust I saw on DialM’s boots in my vision. It was dust from his ranch. I pat down my pockets and then look around until I find a pen and paper on a nearby desk. “Shoot.” I take down the address. “This is fantastic, Gerard. You’re a genius!”

“That, I know. Do you want some more good news?”

“Sure.” The location of Ling was enough, but I’m certainly not going to complain about more leads.

“Jonathan’s getting closer with the Web server location. And that should mean the bunker location.”

“Thanks, Gerard. Call me when you’ve got something new.”

I hang up and fill Darren in on the details. I go back upstairs to put in place all the arrangements for the bust, while Darren covers our original plan and checks in with the San Fran IT guys. I also get Dusk on a background search of the property and its owner.

Twenty minutes later we meet up.

“Well?” Darren says. He’s got a cheeky smile on his face, like he’s holding a royal flush against my pair of nines.

“What?”

He shrugs. “How’d it go?”

“I’ve got the warrant, and the SWAT team is assembled and waiting downstairs. We should be able to make DialM’s place in about an hour. You?”

He grins again.

“Spit it out!”

“Heath Jordan is AmericanPsycho.”

“What?”

“Log records on his laptop indicate access to www. murderersclub. com using the ID of AmericanPsycho, and the computer also has that Roke Manor software installed. We’ve got the president.”

I give him a hard punch in the arm. “You bastard. I bet you’ve known that for nearly all of the last twenty minutes.”

“Pretty much. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help grinning. “We’ve got the president.” But even as I say it, I feel uncertain. Could it be this easy? Could we really have the mastermind behind bars?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I shake the feeling away. Evidence doesn’t lie—we’ve got Psycho. And soon we’ll have DialM. I look at my watch. “That leaves us with only NeverCaught to find, and getting the girls out of the bunker.” I turn around and we make our way to Dusk’s desk. “How’d you do?” I ask Dusk.

“A title search found the owner—one Victor Petrov. I’ve looked him up on the system. No criminal record, but we do have some info on him.” Dusk shuffles some papers. “Russian heritage but born here. He’s semiretired. He used to train racehorses and now he uses his fifty-acre property as a small breeding ranch. He’s also extremely wealthy according to his IRS records.”

“A prerequisite of the club,” Darren says.

* * *

A couple of miles before the turnoff to Petrov’s ranch, the SWAT van and the Bureau contingent pull in. The SWAT team is led by Rhode, a young man who looks like a stereotypical marine. Dusk, Darren and I join Rhode and his men inside the van for the final review of the plans. I’ve given Rhode the lead on the bust—he’s certainly more prepared for this kind of a takedown than I am.

“Okay. Our latest satellite picture confirms two heat signatures. This one is weaker.” He points to the map. “And we’re assuming this is our hostage. She’s in the barn, possibly underground, which would account for the lower heat-source reading.”

The other option is that Ling is ill, maybe dying, but to my relief he doesn’t even mention that possibility.

“She’s being held in a barn. Here.” Rhode points to an aerial photograph of the ranch house and surrounding buildings. “I’ve just had confirmation that the other heat signature is still in the main house. Here.” He points to the front of the ranch house. “So, our plan remains the same. Anderson, Dusk and Carter will drive up to the house and distract the suspect, while we come into the property from this back road here.” He runs his finger along a line on the photograph, a dirt road. “We’ll go straight for the barn and the hostage, and on our signal you—” he nods his head in our direction “—can make the formal arrest.”

While the SWAT team is decked out in their usual gear, Carter, Dusk and I wear casual clothes with vests underneath. This way, Petrov will have no warning that a team is taking over his property. If we really do have the president behind bars, there’s no way he could have warned DialM or any of the other members. He wouldn’t have had time before our grand entrance. Which means as far as DialM and NeverCaught are concerned, the game is still on.

“Okay, let’s go.” Rhode rolls up the maps and photos and gets back into the front of the van. We pull away and they stay put to give us a couple of minutes’ lead.

Five minutes later Dusk, Carter and I are turning into the dirt driveway of Petrov’s property. The place is well kept, with high wooden fences splitting the front area into several large paddocks. A statuesque black horse with a small white patch on its nose watches our approach and then starts running next to the car, stopping only when the paddock ends.

The driveway takes a sharp left and snakes its way up to the house. The residence is quite simple, especially considering Petrov’s earnings for the past twenty years. The wooden house looks like it’s been recently painted, and a wide veranda extends across the front and the left-hand side. A wind chime hangs over the two steps up to the veranda and sways in the breeze. It’s the perfect image of a peaceful ranch. Before we bring the car to a halt, a man steps outside onto the veranda.

It’s the man from my vision and as soon as I see him my body reacts, my heart racing and anger swelling inside of me. A slim build, Petrov wears black pants and a long-sleeved shirt, and it strikes me as rather dressed up for sitting around watching television or whatever else he was doing inside. Just like in my vision and on the sketch Powers and Jonathan drafted, he wears small, wire-framed glasses. We pull the car to a stop and approach him.

“Can I help you?” His voice is friendly, welcoming, and, like Heath, he shows no sign of concern or guilt. I wonder if my FBI badge will change that.

I go through the practiced routine of showing my credentials and announcing myself as FBI, keeping my voice flat and neutral. He doesn’t seem surprised or perturbed by our presence.

“So, in what way can I service the Bureau?” He smiles.

I pull the warrant out of my pocket. “We have a search warrant. For your house and all the associated buildings.”

“What?” Now he seems surprised, but still not concerned. “What for?”

“We have evidence that indicates you’ve been holding an Australian woman by the name of Ling Gianolo hostage.”

“What?” he repeats, then he laughs slightly. “Why, that’s prepos-terous!”

“Really?” With one hand behind my back to hide a clenched fist, I move toward the house. “If you’d like to step inside, Mr. Petrov.”

“Certainly, anything I can do to help you, or this poor young woman.” He looks around, showing me the first chink in his armor. “What did you say her name was?” He forces a casual tone into his voice.

He’s trying my patience. “Ling.”

“Yes, Ling.”

“If you’d like to help, you can show us to your computer.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very computer literate. I did purchase a laptop recently, but I think I may have broken it.” He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m not into computers at all.”

“Do you like movies, Mr. Petrov?”

“That’s a curious question, my dear.”

“It’s Agent Anderson, Mr. Petrov. The question relates to this investigation, and you know it.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, but in answer to your question, yes, I like some movies.”

“How about an Alfred Hitchcock one called Dial M for Murder?”

“That’s a classic. Of course I know the film.” He smiles. “I’m glad you know of the original, not that remake. Especially given your youth.”

I smile. “It’s a good movie, but I quite like the Noir films that include a femme fatale.” I widen my smile and keep eye contact, ready to observe his reaction. “Where the woman is a bit of a Black Widow.” I pause. “You’ve heard of the spider, yes?”

He keeps the smile plastered on his face, but I can tell it takes more effort now. “Yes, I know of the spider.” He retreats into the house and we follow.

Inside, the place is pristine and old-fashioned. The walls are painted white, with photographs of horses scattered around the place and the furniture looks mostly antique, old-world English. He takes us through to a back room and unlocks the top drawer of a large wooden desk. He pulls out the laptop, but as he hands it to us, a small stream of smoke comes from the back of it. We back away from the hissing sound.

“What the…?” Darren stares at the computer.

Petrov smiles, a more genuine smile now. “Like I said, I think I broke it.”

Booby trapped it is more like. Heath must have installed a fail-safe on the computer, something Petrov triggered—maybe a button somewhere? The good news is Petrov is definitely surprised to see us, which means Heath didn’t have time to log on and warn him.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Our computer forensics team will still be able to read the hard drive.” I don’t know if I’m bluffing or not, but either way I don’t like the look on Petrov’s face. By now his feathers should be more ruffled. Unless he has a plan…at the moment he thinks he’s only against the three of us. He doesn’t know that the SWAT team is currently searching the barn, presumably about to discover and rescue Ling. Once they’ve got Ling out, we can formally arrest Petrov for her abduction.

I focus on Petrov again, not Ling. What would I do if I were him? I put myself in the perp’s shoes, just like I do whenever I draft a profile.

Petrov moves toward his desk and I bring my right hand closer to my gun. I know what I’d do if I thought I was facing three people who knew way too much.

I decide it’s time to let him know that we’re not alone. “Mr. Petrov, we’ve—”

But it’s too late. In one swift movement he lunges and reaches into his desk. Everything goes into slow motion.

Petrov pulls a gun out, but my hand is already close to my Smith & Wesson. I pull it out of the holster.

Darren and Dusk are both pulling out their weapons, but Petrov’s got the jump on them. He aims his gun at me, the person who can take a shot at him now, right now.

“Stop!” I cry. But he’s not going to stop.

The sights of my gun are lined up, aiming for his chest. I hesitate for a millisecond, wanting to somehow confirm that my instincts are right—that if I don’t fire right now, he will. But there’s no time—

I squeeze the trigger and drop down so I’m on bended knee, ready to take another shot.

My first bullet hits him in the chest, but not right in the heart. The bullet would have blown a lung, but probably isn’t fatal.

His eyes widen from pain and shock and his gun lowers, but he doesn’t drop it. He brings his weapon upward again…

Shit!

Now Dusk and Darren are both aiming their guns at Petrov. He must know he hasn’t got a chance. If he’d got his shot off first, got me, then maybe he’d be able to shoot fast enough to get Darren and Dusk, but now he’s got three guns trained on him.

It doesn’t stop him. The gun keeps coming back up, and he readjusts his aim, targeting me again.

I start to squeeze the trigger, ready to release my second shot, when the gun to my right goes off—Darren.

It’s almost as if I can see the bullet streaking its way across the room and toward Petrov’s heart.

Bingo. Petrov drops the gun and falls to his knees. He hangs in limbo for a second and then falls forward. His eyes are still wide open and he stares past us to the door.

I hear footsteps, running, and I swing around. Two SWAT team members enter the room, guns held high, ready to take a shot.

Darren and I look at each other in shock, and relief. We’re the ones standing and Petrov’s the one on the floor.

Dusk knocks the gun away from Petrov so it’s no longer within his reach and the SWAT guys lower their weapons.

“The girl?” I look at the SWAT guys, hoping one of them will have an answer for me.

“Rhode sent us up here as soon as we heard the shot. The team was just about to enter the barn.”

I run…past the SWAT guys, out the front door, down the veranda steps, and then do the three-hundred-feet dash to the barn. I push the door open and seven guns swing around in my direction.

“Sorry.” It sounds lame; I should know better than to run into an area the SWAT’s in charge of, but now all I can think of is Ling. Maybe if we’ve saved her, if we’ve got here in time, it will make up for me failing Brigitte and the others.

The guns go back to their original position, covering the entire barn even though heat signatures indicated only one person in this area. You can never be too sure.

Rhode gives me a look, and then drops to his knees. He uses one hand to clear away dirt from a trapdoor. I move in closer. Ling’s down there.

Rhode motions to his nearest team member and nods at the door. The guy raises his rifle and points it at the trapdoor. Rhode lies on his stomach and slowly, gently opens it a couple of inches. He’s checking for booby traps, but my guess is the door is safe. Petrov never thought it would come to this, never thought he’d be suspected, let alone caught.

My patience wears thin in the next few minutes, as Rhode checks the trapdoor from every angle, and even looks around it for trip wires. I consider telling him that Petrov isn’t the type to set up a trip wire, but I hold my tongue out of respect for Rhode and what he does. This is his specialty and I wouldn’t like anyone telling me how to profile, so why should I tell him how to secure a room?

Eventually, Rhode is satisfied and pulls the trapdoor all the way open, while his SWAT team continues to cover the barn. I move closer, keeping my gun drawn, just in case.

The trapdoor leads to a steep wooden staircase. Rhode goes down the stairs, gun first, hunched over so he doesn’t hit his head. One other SWAT guy follows him, and I’m hot on their heels. I can barely see past the bulk of the two heavyset men, but within a few steps Ling comes into view. She’s cowering in the corner of the old-style bed, her hands covering her face. She’s heard us on the stairs and assumed it’s him. God knows what he’s done to her.

“Ling,” I say, knowing a female voice will reassure her.

She instantly looks up and her crumpled face relaxes ever so slightly. Her shoulders drop, but she can’t manage a smile—I don’t blame her. She moves toward us, but is restricted by the chains. Even this doesn’t dampen her obvious relief. Two men with guns and a woman.

“I’m FBI, Ling. Is this room safe for us as far as you know?” Safe… what a bad word to choose on my part. It certainly hasn’t been safe for her.

Ling seems confused by the question.

“Did Petrov booby trap the room?”

She shakes her head but points up the stairs, and directly above my head. I look up warily—the Webcam.

Shit! How did I forget about the video stream? I see a switch and flick it. There’s only one member of the club who could be watching, NeverCaught, and now we’ve announced our presence to him.