01 A Cold Dark Place (18 page)

“
You really think the person killing these women is the same person who took Payton?” she asked again. This was a hell of a way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

“
The MO has changed,” Barton conceded.

“
He’s been inactive for eighteen years.”

“
Not necessarily.” SSA Frazer raised a finger at her and she wanted to raise one back, a different one.

“
There’s a gap in what we know about him, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t killing.”

A chill moved through her body but Mal refused to acknowledge it. She needed to be professional enough to discuss this.

Frazer continued. “For some reason about a year ago something happened to trigger a rash of murders in this area, all with the same signature. And now I think they are related to the Payton Rooney case.”

“
Who’s probably been dead for eighteen years,” Henderson put in.

Most children who were abducted were killed in the first couple of hours.

Mallory crossed her arms over her chest, wanting to hide what she was thinking because it would sound so out there, but she couldn’t. “I think he kept her alive.”

Frazer stared hard.
“Why do you think that?”

She pursed her lips but these guys already though
t she was an idiot so who cared. “Because I could
feel
her.”

“
Are you telling us you’re psychic now?” Henderson’s skeptical brows disappeared under her frumpy bangs.

“
Not psychic. It’s a twin thing. I can’t really explain it,” Mallory surveyed the faces of her colleagues. Outside, snow had started to fall. Alex was in the car waiting for her. It gave her the impetus to go on. To get this over with. “Our whole childhood we shared a connection. I knew where she was in the house, I knew when she was hungry and even what she was hungry for. I knew when she was sad and when she was hiding a secret.” She dug her nails hard into the palms of her hands. “I can’t explain it, but it was like
we
were hungry and
we
had a secret. I didn’t even know that wasn’t normal until I was older.” She licked her lips. “When she disappeared I still felt her even years afterward though it wasn’t as strong. That connection ended sometime around last October. I woke up one morning and she was just...gone.”

Henderson leaned forward across the desk and jabbed her pen toward Frazer.
“This is why she shouldn’t be here. She’s going to affect how we view the case.”

“
She might be the reason we finally crack it,” Frazer argued. He stared at her for another long moment then looked away. “This is the first year you didn’t appear on TV talking about your sister’s abduction, correct?”

She nodded.

“I think the killer was pissed and wanted to get your attention.” Frazer spoke to his team but never took his eyes off hers. “That’s why he sent you those clothes and the media that ring. He wants you to know he’s out there. He wants you to know he took Payton and killed those other women so you don’t forget him.”

“
The cases are so different though—”

“
Maybe.” He pressed his lips together. “But not necessarily.
If
you’re right and your sister was alive all these years, then maybe he had whatever it was he needed to curb that killing urge.”

The idea her sister might have been alive all this time made her stomach spasm. And if her theory about Payton being alive was correct should she have told the FBI about it years ago? Should she have explored it more? Pushed the authorities even though she knew they
’d already exhausted every lead?

Mallory
’s hands were shaking so she hid them under the table. So much for being in control. Barton watched her with a hint of pity but Henderson looked like she was getting ready to deliver a killing blow.

Mallory lifted her gaze to Frazer
’s. “Each of the women he kills is his attempt to fill the void created by Payton’s death?”

Frazer looked uncomfortable. “It’s a theory.”

“He’s looking for a replacement,” Barton stated.

“
In that case, there’s an obvious factor you aren’t stating out loud, SSA Frazer.” Henderson’s voice was sharp.

He flicked a scowl in her direction but Mallory spoke up.
“It’s okay. I think I’ve already figured that the perfect replacement for my identical twin sister would be—in theory—me.”

“
Why only in theory?” Frazer asked intently.

“
Because we have—had—very different personalities. Pay was a rule follower. Always polite, never argued. She was really sweet.” She caught Henderson’s eye. “I’m not that way.”

“
I suggest that if this person ever gets hold of you, you play along with being exactly what he’s looking for,” Henderson said. “Otherwise he’s gonna beat the crap out of you and then strangle you with his bare hands, the way he killed those other girls.”

“
I can take care of myself.” She thought of Alex, so determined to look after her that he was camped out in his car in the parking lot. She was going to have to figure out a way to persuade him she didn’t need a 24/7 bodyguard, except...she liked being with him. But she needed to stand up for herself and do her job. This person had taken enough from her already.

“
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Frazer cleared his throat. “It’s possible he’s already inserted himself into your life at some point. Is there anyone you’ve become close to recently?”

Her throat closed.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“
I’ll take that as a yes. Name?”

She glared at him.
“It isn’t him.”

“
Then it will do no harm to run a background check. Name?”

She gathered her papers and tablet into her bag.
“Alex Parker.”

Barton
’s eyes widened a fraction as if she recognized the name.

“
He’s a security consultant. He consults for the government, including the FBI.”

Frazer gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“Handy. We should have a file on him then. Any other things happening in your life lately that might be considered suspicious?”

Damn
, what wasn’t suspect about her life right now? “There was a break-in at my house in Charlotte just before I transferred—I assumed it was just a normal attempted robbery.” Her skin went cold. “But there were two men involved so it was probably just a coincidence.”

“Unless there are two killers working together?”
Barton suggested.

Frazer swore and made some notes. “
I’ll talk to the detective on the case. Anything else?”

She frowned as she thought about the flat tires in the parking lot. But Henderson would no more admit to that prank than the UNSUB would give himself up. It would probably be a massive waste of time.
“Nothing.” Disgusted, she pushed her chair back.

“
One last thing,” Frazer pointed the pen at her. “We discussed it on the way to West Virginia.”

Before or after I
puked?

“
I want you to submit to hypnosis.” She flinched. “There’s a wealth of information untapped in your brain. I want it.”

She rose to her feet.
“Fine. Whatever,” she snapped. She’d stopped caring about making a good impression with these people. The idea she’d figure out who—if anyone—was in league with a vigilante was becoming more and more ridiculous. “When?”

Frazer smiled and she felt like she
’d fallen into a trap. “How about right now?”

***

Alex sat in the passenger side of his Audi working on his laptop. He was figuring out the most efficient way to run searches on cell tower information near where each of the PR-killer’s victims were believed to have been snatched, and comparing them to cell phone data from near where the bodies were found. He also wanted to access information about the victims’ phones too. Positional data. It sounded easier than it was because first he needed to hack into all the major phone companies involved and cross-reference. If he found a pattern or a connection with a specific person he’d suggest the FBI gain warrants so they could use it in court if it ever came to that.

He didn
’t need court-worthy evidence. Just enough to convince The Gateway Project he’d found the right person. Trouble was, he was finding it harder and harder to believe The Gateway Project had a better way of dealing with criminals than the traditional justice system.

D
o what Uncle Sam tells you. Obey orders and your conscience is clean, like any good soldier.
But being a soldier on US soil, taking up arms against fellow Americans wasn’t legal. In a court
he’d
be the one convicted of murder—hell, he was
guilty
of murder. The legitimacy of the shadowy organization was starting to bother him. Not just because he knew who’d pay the price should their activities come to light, he didn’t like the realization he might not be any better than the monsters he hunted.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman approaching his car. He closed the laptop, rolled down the window.

“Alex Parker?”

“
Yes, ma’am.”

From the
sharp lines at the side of her eyes when she smiled she was probably early forties. Black hair, black eyes. Trim. Compact. Was she the one who’d let down Mallory’s tires? He’d done a little digging but he hadn’t had much time to run thorough background checks yet. “I’m Special Agent Felicia Barton. Agent Rooney is going to be longer than expected—”

“
She all right?” he interrupted.

Her
smile tightened and he could see he’d given himself away.

“
She’s fine, Mr. Parker. She mentioned you were out here. I thought you might want to come inside. I see you have some security clearance so it’s not a problem,” she added.

“
That’s real nice of you.” He kept his expression blank. A good old American boy believing in altruism. He placed the laptop in its case and opened the door as she stood back. He was in jeans, a black sweater and combat boots. He could hear marines being drilled in the distance. The sound reminded him of his days in uniform. The good old days.

He closed the door, locked the car with the fob.

“Nice car.” The fed admired with a low whistle. “Public service doesn’t pay quite so well.”

“
But we appreciate you all the same.” He gave her a smile.

“
As I appreciate your service as a veteran.” They started walking back to the main building. Doing the dance. Each knowing what to say. What not to say. “You served in Afghanistan?”

“
And Iraq.”

“
You were awarded a Distinguished Service Cross. That’s pretty impressive stuff.”

“
You seem to know a lot about me, Agent Barton.”

A quick smile flashed over her features.
“It’s my job, Mr. Parker. Don’t take it personally.”

“
My ego isn’t that inflated, ma’am.”

He followed her through the building, up
in the elevator. When they got off he looked for Mallory but didn’t see her. Barton brought him into a large space filled with cubicles and desks. There was an empty desk by a window beside a photocopier. “It’s not much but it beats sitting in a car all day.”

“
Thanks.”

She hesitated, clearly nowhere near done with him yet and looking for an angle
to wheedle out more information. “I lost a brother in Operation Desert Storm.”

He couldn
’t tell from her eyes whether or not she was telling the truth. Maybe he was losing his touch. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“
I have another brother who joined up after Phil died.” She swallowed and looked uncomfortably close to tears. “The whole time he was over there I was terrified he was going to get himself killed because of some misplaced survivor’s guilt.”

His mouth went dry.
“Survivor’s guilt is a strong motivator.”

“
Did you ever suffer from it? When the men in your unit died?”

“
That was sloppy, Agent Barton. I’d expect a better segue from an agent of your caliber.” He straightened to his full height so he was staring down at her. Not that she appeared intimidated. “If you want to interrogate me why don’t we do it the old-fashioned way,” he suggested.

“
Rubber hoses?” she grinned.

“
I was thinking a room with a tape recorder.”

“
Oh, you’re no fun.” She laughed and crooked her finger. “Follow me. I’m going to take you up on your offer, because when Agent Rooney finds out I’m questioning her boyfriend, she’ll probably find a way to get me fired—”