When they got back to the office, Kaely and Noah headed straight for the conference room. They passed a smaller room on the way where several agents were gathered for some kind of meeting. Noah noticed a couple of dirty looks cast their way. He imagined some of the agents weren’t happy about being kicked out of the larger conference room. The new command center would be ready by Monday, but for now, they needed the huge table for all the files and notes they had. Grace had moved in a large dry-erase board for them, and Kaely immediately went to it and began to make notes. She wrote out the details of the first two murders, including who they were patterned after. Then she turned toward Noah.
“Read the third verse of the poem,” she said. He tried not to be offended by the way she asked. More of a command than a request.
He sifted through the papers on the table until he found the poem. “Five little elephants playing on the swings,” he read. “One grabbed a rope and ended up choked. Four little elephants called it a day. They packed up their trunks and they all ran away.” As he read, his stomach churned, and he felt a little light-headed.
Kaely frowned. “Swings? Oh, wow.”
“We should have noticed this right away,” Noah said softly. “I didn’t realize.”
“You’re thinking this is Oliver Burgess.”
Noah frowned. “Wait a minute. That wasn’t a murder though. It was a suicide, wasn’t it?”
“Actually, a lot of people believed he was murdered,” Kaely said. “The FBI investigated, but there simply wasn’t any evidence to support the claim. The ME was certain it was suicide. There weren’t any defensive wounds. Nothing to indicate a struggle.”
“Does this mean he really was killed? And that our guy knows something about it?”
Kaely sat down and opened her laptop. “That happened in . . . was it Georgia? Three years ago, right?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Our UNSUB just recently went off the rails. His killings are a way to get at me. I don’t think he’s killed before. I could be wrong, but it just doesn’t fit his profile.”
Noah sat down next to her. “So are we missing something?”
Kaely scrolled through an old story about Oliver Burgess, then she accessed FBI files for the case. Noah moved closer so he could read along with her. The investigation was pretty straightforward. As Kaely had said, there wasn’t any evidence whatsoever that Oliver had been killed. The FBI had no choice when it came to its conclusion. Oliver’s parents weren’t happy about the outcome. They were convinced their son was murdered, but evidence was evidence.
The family went to the media, and the FBI was accused of bungling the case. It was a black eye for the Bureau even though the murder aspect was never proved.
“How are you connected to this case?” Noah asked.
Kaely shook her head. “I’m not. I had nothing to do with it.”
“I don’t see how this fits, then.”
“Wait a minute,” Kaely said. “Our poem mentions a rope. Burgess used the metal chain holding up the swing to strangle himself.” She paused. “Maybe that doesn’t matter, but why did our UNSUB use the word rope?”
Noah pushed his chair back. Being so close to Kaely was starting to bother him, and right now he needed to focus on stopping a killer. “Maybe we have the wrong case.”
“Maybe.”
Kaely typed in something and waited. When the new page came up, she leaned forward. “Yeah, here’s something.” She gasped softly. “Surely not.”
“What is it?”
Kaely leaned back and turned the laptop so Noah could see the screen. As soon as he began to peruse the information online, he remembered the situation. Four years ago, an FBI agent in Iowa committed suicide on his daughter’s swing set after she was kidnapped and killed by a man who blamed the agent for his own child’s death during a shootout in a drug house.
“I remember reading about this,” Kaely said. “The agent, Phillip Reagan, shot Andrew Barker during a drug raid. Reagan did the right thing and took the guy down, but later he found out Barker was only sixteen years old. The gun he’d pulled was a toy.”
“Reagan had no way to know that,” Noah said.
“Of course not, but he was overcome with guilt. Then his daughter was kidnapped, and they found her body three days later in a field. Barker’s father was behind it. A revenge killing.”
“So Reagan took his own life,” Noah said. “He blamed himself for what happened. It’s terrible, but what does this have to do with serial killers?”
“Who said our UNSUB was only using serial killers?” Kaely asked.
“I . . . I don’t know. I just assumed . . .”
“We can’t assume anything with this guy.” She paused a moment. “So which case is it? Oliver Burgess or Phillip Reagan?”
“Both cases connect to the FBI,” Noah mused. He stood up and walked over to the dry-erase board. He picked up the marker and wrote Oliver Burgess and then Phillip Reagan. “You think it’s one of these?”
Kaely nodded. “They’re the only two cases I can find with direct ties to the FBI. I guess this time I’m not directly connected, but the Bureau is.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the names Noah had written on the board. “You should send this to CIRG. Have them search ViCAP using swings or swing set as a search parameter. They might find something we’re missing. Oh, and add the word rope.”
“Good idea,” Noah said.
“Let’s look at the message he’s sending. If it’s the Oliver Burgess case, then he’s going to kill a teenager.”
The uneasy feeling returned to Noah’s stomach. Their UNSUB was thinking about killing a kid? Really?
“Or he wants me to hang myself,” Kaely said softly. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to do that.”
“That can’t be it. Look at the last stanza of the poem. One last elephant facing final judgment. She was found guilty and given no pity. Jessica Oliphant called it a day. She picked up a gun and blew herself away. Sounds like his exact plans are for you to shoot yourself, not end up on the end of a rope.”
Was that truly the end game? Kaely Quinn’s suicide? What kind of power did this killer think he had over her? Was it strong enough to actually make her blow her brains out?
Kaely frowned at him. “I would never do that,” she said as if she knew what he was thinking. “Never. No one who knows me would think I was capable of it. I’m too . . .”
Kaely snorted. “No.”
She was silent for several seconds, and Noah felt he needed to be quiet. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head.
Finally, she took a deep breath. “After we found out who my father really was, I thought about ending my life. Everything changed. Family friends deserted us. Our neighbors avoided us. I couldn’t go to school. Had to be home-schooled. It was awful.” She turned her dark eyes toward him. “But in the end, it made me strong. Determined.” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Okay, stubborn. But nothing—and I mean nothing—could make me put a gun to my head. I have God in my life now, and I’ve learned that He can get me through anything, that I never have to give up. What I’m saying is that someone who knew me would know that. So our UNSUB can’t be close to me.”
“You thought it might be someone in your life?”
“My friend Richard brought up my brother’s name. Jason’s very angry about what happened to our family. Supposedly, he blames me and my mother for not exposing my father.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“I was going to. Richard just told me about it this morning. It might be wise to track Jason down. Find out where he is. But my point is that Jason knows I would never commit suicide. Even after all this time surely he would be convinced of that. So it can’t be him.”
He noticed the look of relief on her face. “I agree that we need more information before we rule him out, but I understand what you’re saying. So we’re back to someone connected to a case but possibly not closely connected to you. What does that leave us?”
“The person who died,” Kaely said softly.
Noah looked at her, confused by her comment. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, a child died. First Oliver Burgess, then Reagan’s daughter. Isn’t that the connection?”
“But you don’t have a child.”
“No, I don’t.” Kaely stood and walked over to the dry-erase board. “It’s here. I’m just not seeing it. And we’ve got to figure it out. Quickly.”
Someone knocked on the door to the conference room, and Noah jumped. He hadn’t realized he was so tense. Grace came in, carrying some papers.
“They ID’d the young woman found at the park in Illinois,” she said. “Thought you’d want to see this.”
“Thanks,” Noah said.
Kaely didn’t turn around to acknowledge Grace. She continued to stare at the board.
“Sorry,” Noah said in a low voice. “We’re trying to figure out where this guy will strike next.”
“I understand,” Grace said. “Not a problem.” She smiled at Noah. “I ordered pizza. It should be here soon.” She left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Noah looked through the reports from the police in Illinois. The woman found in the water was Eleanor Duncan, a waitress who worked in Highland. The police located her original clothes in the trees, not far from where she was dumped. The dress she wore was similar to what Barton Kennedy’s second victim was wearing when her body was discovered. The killer was doing everything he could to copy the original murders. Once again, the victim seemed to be picked because the UNSUB could get to her easily and she matched the description of Barton Kennedy’s victims. There didn’t appear to be any other connection to Kaely.
He looked up when he heard Kaely gasp. She turned around, her eyebrows knit together in a deep frown. “It’s not the Burgess case. It’s Reagan.”
“So it’s a threat toward you?”
“I don’t think so, Noah. I think he’s trying to tell me he’s going after someone close to me. That’s the connection this time.” She bit her lip and stared at him without saying anything for several seconds. “I think you’re his next target.”