Psychobyte (19 page)

“Four to eight milligrams of Lorazepam would be enough to knock an adult out for about six hours,” Kurt said.

“How fast does it work?” Sam asked.

“The victim would become sleepy after about fifteen to thirty minutes. So not long.” Kurt looked at me. “Conway suspected the coffee as a delivery system for drugs.”

“Yes, I did. That’s why I suspect he was in their homes the night before which is when he would have doctored the coffee.” I took another sip of water. “He may or may not leave. We could have a freak who is spending the night in the homes with the clueless victims.” I set the water bottle on my desk.

I checked my watch, gave it a minute for my stomach to settle, and then stood up.

“Conway?” Kurt questioned.

“Going to meet Mallory Stevens at the Firehook for a chat,” I said.

Kurt rose to his feet. “Could do with a coffee.”

I don’t recall asking for company.

“It’s not necessary. I can bring coffee back,” I said, sliding my holster inside my waistband.

“I’ll come for the drive.”

I knew I wouldn’t get out of the building without him. I sighed. “Okay, let’s go.” At the office door, I paused. “You two let me know if you find anything we can use.”

“Will do,” Sam replied. “You bringing back coffee?”

“Yep.”

Because that’s the nice thing to do.

Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

Kurt and I ordered. He wanted coffee and I decided on hot chocolate. I checked the DMV image of Mallory Stevens on my phone to refresh my memory. Mallory Stevens was ten minutes late. I saw a woman who fitted the image walk in and waved her over.

“Ms. Stevens?” I said as the woman stood awkwardly at the end of the table.

She nodded. “Agent Conway?”

“Yes. Have a seat.”

Kurt introduced himself. “I’m SSA Henderson.”

She didn’t say anything to him.

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

“Have you heard from Phoebe since you met her at her house on Thursday night?”

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t expect to. We had an argument. She needs time to cool off.”

She’s pretty fucking cold now.

I smothered the smirk that tweaked the edges of my mouth and reminded myself that Phoebe, cold or not, was a friend.

“You argued about what?”

Mallory frowned and adjusted her jacket. “We just argued. It’s personal.”

My phone rang. Lee’s name flashed across the screen. I excused myself from the table and walked outside before answering the call. “What’s up?”

“Charles Locke junior. What’d you like him for?”

“Beating the crap out of Phoebe’s sister, Christine.”

“That’s right. His name just surfaced while as I dug around looking at the Mallory Stevens chick’s background,” Lee said.

“Now that’s something we should look into.”

“I thought so.”

“You’re sure it’s junior not the old man?”

“Junior.”

“Anything recent?”

“Yeah. Thursday night. They had a Facebook messenger conversation.”

Not dead then. So Lette didn’t kill Locke. Would’ve been a public service if he had.

“Before or after Stevens met Phoebe?”

“The conversation happened early in the evening and over by five-thirty.”

Good to know.

“Anything I need to know?”

“Yeah, she told Locke about meeting Phoebe at seven at her place. He replied that he’d see her afterward.”

A cold foaming waterfall crashed over me, pooling at my feet.

“Anything about Phoebe’s sister?”

Part of me hoped that this was what it was about. That he wanted information about Christine and used his friendship with Mallory to that end.

“No. No mention of her at all. He mentioned his father. Said he hadn’t seen him or spoken to him since the incident.”

“Incident?”

“Not sure, could be referring to his arrest for domestic violence.”

Could be.

“Great work, Lee. I’ll see what I can find from this end.”

I hung up and rejoined the table.

Mallory Stevens knowing Charles Locke felt all kinds of hinky. That Lette didn’t kill him felt wrong on a few levels too. If not dead, why did no one seem to know where Charles lives? No more being nice. I wanted answers.

“Ms. Stevens what time did you meet Phoebe on Thursday night?”

“It was after dinner. Seven, I think.”

“Who knew you were meeting her?”

She clasped her hands together while resting her elbows on the table. “No one. We weren’t public about our relationship.”

Mental note to bring the conversation back to the relationship as soon as I’d dropped Charles Locke’s name and watched the reaction. Kurt caught my eye. I smiled with all the sweetness I could muster. It wasn’t much.

“And you met with Charles Locke when?”

Stevens froze.

She actually froze.

“Breathe,” I said.

Her body shuddered.

Kurt spoke softly, “What time did you meet Locke?”

“I didn’t meet him,” she said, her voice wavering. “I didn’t meet him …”

Kurt’s eyes flashed at me. I raised an eyebrow.

He tried again. “What time did
he
meet you?”

“After ten …”

“Where?” I asked as Kurt shifted back into his seat again.

“On the street.”

“What street?” I asked.

She fidgeted with a napkin. Folding the corners then unfolding them again. I reached my hand out and removed the napkin. Balling it up in my hand, I watched her. The fingers of her right hand covered her mouth for a split second.

“I don’t remember.”

“Ah, but you do,” I said. “I think we’ll take this conversation back to our office. I’ve got a plane to meet and I’m not a fan of liars.” I looked at Kurt. “Sam and Lee can continue with Stevens, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they’ll enjoy it.”

“I don’t know the name of the street …”

Incredulity filled the space between us as I said, “You know Phoebe’s address.”

Her eyes widened.

Kurt and I stood up. I let him do the honors.

“Mallory Stevens, you are accompanying us for further questioning regarding the death of Phoebe Childs.”

Bam
! Just like that all the air left her body and she fell forward; with a sickening thud, her face hit the table.

Kurt placed two fingers on her neck. “Alive,” he said.

I saw a moving red line spread from under her face and called for paramedics. We had a plane to meet; I didn’t want Kurt doing his doctor thing this time.

“Broken nose, maybe,” Kurt said, watching the blood pool grow.

“Face planting on a table will do that,” I replied, pushing my phone back into my pocket. The smell of the fresh blood tweaked a few barf strings and had me looking for an escape. “I’ll order take-out coffee for Sam and Lee then wait outside for the paramedics. Can you pick up the coffee when it’s ready?”

Kurt nodded as he looked at me. I saw him jump into doctor mode.

“Fresh air, Conway, go.”

The paramedics arrived a few minutes later; I pointed them in the right direction and waited for Kurt to join me.

He emerged with a smile on his face carrying two coffees on a tray. “Didn’t expect that reaction from Stevens. How long have we got before we meet the plane?”

“Two hours,” I said. “Just enough time for me to do something.”

“You want company?”

I glanced at the coffees Kurt carried. They would get cold.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where are we going?” Kurt asked as we walked back to the car.

“Navy Yard.”

“This is to do with Gerrard?”

“Yep.” That and I needed to get away from the crazy case for a bit. Noel Gerrard disappearing bothered the hell out of me. He’d taken being a private person to a whole new level. Fifteen minutes later we were at the Navy Yard.

My phone rang. Owen.

Damn.

“How can I help?” I said, trying to maintain some civility in my voice.

“Have you made any headway with the case, Conway?”

“Progress is being made.”

“Have you made any arrests?”

“Not yet. We have someone helping us with our inquiries.”

“The woman in the hospital?”

For a split second, I wondered how she’d heard about that so fast. Maybe the walls have ears or her flying monkeys are telling tales. My money was on flying monkeys.

“Yes.”

I drummed my fingers on the console.

“The case files mentioned male Unsubs. What about Charles Locke?”

“Is there something you want?” The temptation to hang up was high.

“What are you doing in the Navy Yard?”

Someone must’ve told her how to access the car GPS tracking maps. Idiot.

Instead of drumming my fingers, I fiddled with a pen I’d found. “Conducting an avenue of inquiry.”

“Your time would be better spent talking to Matthew Collins and Charles Locke Snr.”

Holy shitballs, Batman, she’s stabbing my last nerve with her stilettos.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me how to do my job.”

I hung up. Backlash would be forthcoming. The Evil Troll Queen would make sure of it.

Kurt never said a word.

We headed into the NCIS building.

“What are you two doing up here?” Jules’ good-natured voice flowed as I walked across the floor toward her desk while clipping a visitor’s pass to my pocket.

“In the neighborhood. Thought we’d check out the rebuild,” Kurt replied.

“Fancy up here now,” she said with an easy smile directed at Kurt.

If it weren’t for an understated memorial plaque and hunks of a bomb called Big Boy embedded in the concrete, you’d never know what’d happened here.

Last time I stood in the NCIS bullpen, the world rocked, cars crashed from the sky, and terror gripped Washington. Pushing screams and carnage aside I dragged myself back to the present and Jules.

“It’s an impressive workspace,” I said, looking around. High tech, open, but comfortable feeling.

Jules nodded in agreement. “Now, what are you really doing up here in the Navy Yard?”

I perched on her desk. “Have you heard from Noel Gerrard?”

He was her boss until he retired eighteen months earlier.

“Not since the explosion,” she replied.

“Do you know where he is?”

“No. Guess he’s fishing or playing golf somewhere.”

Fishing maybe, golf no.

“So nothing since the explosion. Really? Nothing?”

“Not a dickey bird,” Jules regarded me with interest, or that’s what I thought it was. “I take it you haven’t heard from him either?”

“No. Had a phone call after the Hoover building explosion. Nothing since.”

“Tried calling?” She grinned at me.

“Disconnected.”

“Been over to his house?”

“A mutual friend paid him a visit. The house is empty and sold.”

“How about his parents?”

“Only his Mom, she hasn’t seen him or heard from him in six weeks.”

Hence, I’m here. I’m picking she didn’t know he’d sold his house either.

“He’s probably somewhere hot enjoying a vacation.”

“She didn’t think so.”

“Okay, what’s this about?” She looked up at me then glanced at Kurt. “Do we need coffee?”

There were still two coffees in the car.

“You might, I’ll settle for water thanks.”

I knew it was a red flag statement but I just left it there and ignored her interrogative eyebrow and the heavy silence from Kurt. Jules stood up and motioned for us to follow her.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, heading for the door.

We walked along the waterfront past the USS Barry.

“Why the sudden interest in Gerrard?” Jules asked, stopping at a coffee stand.

“People don’t generally disappear the way he has.”

“It’s Gerrard. He’s a reserved person.”

That’s true.

“His mom asked me to look into his disappearance.”

“What do you have so far?”

“Not much. He doesn’t have a credit card. His bank accounts haven’t been touched in six weeks. Before that, he withdrew five thousand dollars in cash.”

“You sure it was him?”

“No, not confirmed. I’ve got someone working on that,” I said.

“State of mind?”

“I spoke to a friend of his and he said he sounded okay a few months ago.” I had nothing to go on but Sean’s word. Last time I heard from Gerrard, he was angry. “Pretty angry when he arrested the Director of NCIS, so much so he resigned. Think that shook his faith in people a bit.” Understandably. Shook mine too. “How was he when you last spoke to him?”

“He seemed a bit preoccupied. Hard to tell. It was chaos. We lost a lot of people and he knew all of them.” She sipped her coffee. Even the smell of it made me feel ill. “How was he when he called you?”

“Concerned. Jut a short phone call. He established I was all right, Delta intact and that was it.”

Jules considered what I’d said for a few moments. Kurt listened to our conversation but added nothing. I could see the cogs in his brain turning.

“I saw him at funerals. But he didn’t join us. He hovered in the background.”

“Unusual. Didn’t think anything would keep him away from you and Liz,” Kurt said.

Kurt was right: that was unusual. Gerrard was all about his team. They were family.

“You know him as well as I do, Ellie. He felt guilty. You could see it.”

“Yeah, he would’ve. He left. Bad shit happened. He would’ve felt that he should’ve been there to protect his team.” I get it. I know exactly how it would’ve affected him. “I better get back to work.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Of course.” I turned away then turned back to Jules. “If you think of anything, or hear anything, let me or Kurt know.”

She nodded.

We took a shortcut back to the car. Something in the distance glinted. I tried to see behind the glint and followed it to a window on the far side of the parking lot. The angle changed, causing the glint to disappear then came back.

Binoculars? A rifle scope?

“Kurt, what do you think that is?” I asked, trying not to be too obvious with my pointing.

“A reason not to be here,” he replied. “At worst a rifle scope, at best binoculars.”

I lost sight of it once in the car.