‘Thank you.’ Clay pointed to Alec. ‘Alec Vaughn, from Chicago.’
Ciccotelli’s dark brows shot up. ‘Really? I’ve heard stories about you, too, but you’re always twelve years old in them.’
‘Twelve was a pretty action-packed year,’ Alec said lightly. ‘I’ve led a relatively uneventful life since then.’
Ciccotelli shook Alec’s hand. ‘I think you’ve broken your streak of uneventful, son.’ He gestured them into his office. ‘Come have a seat.’
Ciccotelli’s office was tidy, his desk cleared of paper, every book neatly arranged on the shelves. It might have been stark, except for a toddler’s artwork taped to his office door. In the bottom right corner of each drawing an adult had written ‘Anna.’
And, of course, there was the photo on his desk – a blonde with a radiant smile. She sat astride a motorcycle, her helmet tucked under her arm.
‘Your wife?’ Clay asked.
‘Better be,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘If Sophie found me with the picture of another woman on my desk, she’d . . . well, let’s just say she’s very skilled with sharp objects. Add to that she’s eight months pregnant and very cranky, and I toe the line.’ He checked the time. ‘The others should be back soon.’
‘Who are the others?’ Clay asked.
‘The detectives I’ve assigned to this case, plus Agent Novak.’
‘You’ve assigned to the case? You’re homicide.’
‘So it says on my badge.’
Oh no. Dread pooled in Clay’s gut. ‘But Pamela MacGregor is a missing person case. Have you found her?’ Please let it not be too late.
‘No, we haven’t found her. But this afternoon we were able to link her disappearance to a homicide that occurred yesterday afternoon.’
Clay closed his eyes. ‘Who?’
‘Elmarie Stodart, a young au pair from South Africa. She’d taken her two charges, a toddler and a five-year-old, to the mall to see Santa. From what we’ve been able to piece together from the older child’s testimony, Elmarie saw that the toddler had dropped a toy on the floor of the parking garage, locked the kids in the van, and went to get it. We think she discovered Pamela being forced into a vehicle, tried to help, but was stabbed in the process. By the time she was found, she’d bled out.’
‘And the children?’ Clay asked, afraid to hear the answer.
‘The baby had fallen asleep, but the five-year-old saw everything. She’s in shock.’
‘Security tapes?’ Alec asked.
‘The cameras don’t see between vehicles. Elmarie’s killer stabbed her between two vans, then pushed her body under a car. None of that action was captured. We know her killer left in a black van. We ran the plates – they were stolen off another vehicle. We put it on the wire as soon as we knew, but I imagine they’ve already been changed.’
Clay dragged his hands over his face. ‘Was the child able to describe the killer?’
‘No. She was too hysterical. My sketch artist is going to try tonight. At the moment, we have nothing. That’s why my detectives want to talk to you. Linking Kimberly MacGregor to this Doug person is the first real lead we’ve had.’
‘You need to be in contact with Agent Carter in Baltimore. I have his number.’
‘Already talked to him. And he already knew about the black van. We’ll conference with them at 8.15. Before then, I’d appreciate any information your PIs have dug up.’
‘I want to sit in on the meeting,’ Clay said baldly.
Ciccotelli went still. ‘And if I refuse?’
‘I’ll still tell you everything I know. I want this Doug stopped.’
For several seconds Ciccotelli said nothing. Then he lifted his brows. ‘How do you feel about being an unpaid consultant?’
It was an invitation, and far more than Clay had expected. ‘Favorably. Thanks.’
There was a knock on the door and Wiznewski stuck his head in. ‘Maynard, you have a call. Your partner has been trying to reach you on your cell for a half hour.’
Heart hammering, Clay took the receiver Ciccotelli offered, checking his cell phone at the same time. ‘No bars in here,’ he said to Paige. ‘I wasn’t avoiding you.’
‘Clay, it wasn’t Ford in that basement! We don’t know who it was, but it wasn’t Ford’s blood type. We aren’t too late.’ She sobered suddenly. ‘At least, not yet.’
Relief had him light-headed. Thank you. ‘Have you heard from Stevie’s folks?’
Her voice softened sadly. ‘No change.’
Clay cleared his throat. ‘What about Tuzak? Have you heard from the ME?’
‘He’s supposed to be at Joseph’s 8.15 meeting. Says he should have preliminary tox results.’
‘Tell Carter that Kim’s father is a veterinarian. Ask the ME if any of the drugs he finds in Tuzak’s tox screen could be found in a vet’s supply closet. MacGregor treats horses. Those meds should be stronger and Kim may have had access.’
‘Nice, Clay,’ Paige said. ‘I’ll let him know. Listen, you didn’t ask, but Daphne tried to make this call. She couldn’t because she had to go to her office to pull trial records to see if she ever prosecuted Doug. She told me to keep at it until I found you.’
A little warmth curled around his belly. ‘Thanks. I wanted to ask, but was afraid to. Tell her . . . tell her I won’t rest until we know where he is. I’ll talk to you later.’ Clay handed the receiver back to Ciccotelli. ‘We got a brief reprieve. That wasn’t Ford Elkhart’s blood in the basement.’
‘Thank God,’ Alec breathed. ‘Whose is it?’
‘Damn good question, kid.’
‘Damn good observation about MacGregor being a vet,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘Who’s Tuzak?’ Clay started to answer, but Ciccotelli held up his hand. ‘Wait. Sign this.’ He pulled the page he’d been typing from the printer and slid it across the table.
Clay had to laugh. ‘My contract saying I’m an “unpaid consultant.” So formal.’
‘I learned the hard way to get everything in writing, Mr Maynard. My first consultant was Sophie there.’ Ciccotelli pointed to her photo, laughter in his eyes. ‘I didn’t have a signed agreement with her and ended up marrying her.’
Clay smiled as he signed the contract then drew a breath, sobering. ‘Tuzak is Isaac Zacharias. This is what’s happened so far.’
Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 8.15 P.M.
Joseph went straight from his debriefing with Bo Lamar and the brass to the conference room where his team waited for their call with Philly PD.
‘Everyone ready?’ he asked as he took the seat at the head of the table. He did a quick head count. Grayson and JD were here as were Kate and Hector. Brodie was representing CSU and Quartermaine had texted that he’d be late.
Daphne sat at the end of the table looking composed. Until she met his eyes and he saw the strain. He wished he could make all of this go away. Wished that they were just two people who had nothing but time to explore an attraction that, thank God, was mutual. But they weren’t two normal people.
Her son was still missing. And I won’t rest until he’s found.
The side conversations ceased as Joseph dialed Philly PD on the speaker phone. When the phone began to ring, everyone got quiet.
‘This is Ciccotelli.’ The man had a smooth voice. ‘Agent Carter?’
‘Yes,’ Joseph said. ‘I’ll tell you who I have here, then you can introduce your crew.’ He introduced his team, providing rank and role. ‘Our ME will be here soon. You have one of ours up there. Is Special Agent Novak with you?’
‘He is,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘I’ve also got private investigator Clay Maynard here, acting as a special consultant.’
‘We’re glad for any help we can get,’ Joseph said, surprised at Clay’s inclusion until he remembered that the PI was connected to the Ciccotellis through friends and family.
Joseph knew all about consulting with family. Grayson pulled him in on cases from time to time and both of them consulted with their younger sister Zoe. A
police shrink, her perspective had helped Joseph understand – and catch – several suspects over the years. He made a mental note to call her later about Doug. Because we need any help we can get.
‘We’re happy to help however we can,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘In addition to your two, I’ve got Yelton from IT, and McFain, CSU.’
The door opened and Quartermaine slipped in, taking the seat beside Daphne.
‘And we’ve just been joined by Dr Neil Quartermaine,’ Joseph said, ‘our new ME. I’ve briefed my team on the murder of the au pair,’ Joseph said. ‘Elmarie Stodart. Any luck with the sketch artist talking to the five-year-old witness?’
‘Not yet,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘But if anyone can coax it out of her mind, it’s our guy.’
‘He knows how to do that correctly, right?’ Daphne asked. ‘You push too hard, you can make it worse. You can break the child.’ This she knew from personal experience.
‘He understands that. He’s good with kids. I’d trust him with my own daughter.’
‘I hope he’s successful,’ Joseph said, looking annoyed. ‘We thought we had Doug’s face on video at a local drugstore, but their system tapes over itself every two weeks. We missed it by a day. We’ve got a sketch artist meeting with the one witness who saw him. We’ll compare sketches, but a photo would have been really nice.’
‘What about the house you mentioned?’ Ciccotelli asked. ‘Any prints there?’
‘Tons of prints,’ Joseph said. ‘None that match any of our databases yet. Latent is still processing the scene. What about mall security tapes? Any possible face shots?’
‘No. Pamela was walking through the parking garage with a man, five-nine, one-eighty-five, but a hoodie hid his face. They walked between two cars right about the time the au pair got out of her van. Neither Elmarie nor Pamela reappears on the tape. A black van pulls away, driven by what appears to be a woman.’
‘But was really hoodie-guy wearing a wig,’ Novak told them. ‘I’ve studied the tapes. This guy’s build is slight enough that he passed for a woman.’
‘How did Pamela get to the mall?’ JD asked. ‘Was she with anyone?’
‘Pamela told her parents she was going to a friend’s house,’ Wiznewski said. ‘We pulled her cell LUDs and she got a text from 443-555-2320. Pre-paid.’
‘Mr Maynard told us about the call Kimberly made from Laurel Gargano’s birthday party,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘We’ve requested Kimberly’s back phone records.’
‘We have them,’ JD said, thumbing through the printout. ‘We requested them when we discovered Kimberly’s arrest record. And . . . yeah. The 2320 number is the same one Kimberly called the night of Laurel Gargano’s birthday party.’
‘So we’re one step closer to Doug,’ Joseph said. ‘Those pre-paids are traceable, but we’d have to lure him into making a few phone calls so we can triangulate.’
‘How about Richard Odum?’ Hector asked. ‘He’s Bill Millhouse’s second in command. Odum might be able to persuade Doug to call a few times.’
Joseph shook his head. ‘He’s dead. One of the SWAT teams found his body in one of the houses he bought with Reggie Millhouse’s defense fund. His throat was slit. As was his wife’s.’
‘The CSU team I sent to that house typed the blood,’ Brodie said. ‘Odum’s type matches what we found in the basement with Ford’s watch. Unfortunately, we’ll have to find someone else Doug trusts enough to call from his cell phone.’
‘We might be able to trace him another way,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘Yelton from IT is working on tracing the webcam he put in the ceiling of Trooper Gargano’s house to his own server which must have downloaded the images.’
‘How long will that take?’ Joseph asked.
‘Depends on how clever he is,’ Yelton said. ‘An hour or a day or never. The webcam was no longer connected to its host server. It had run out of battery. We’ll know if it’s still transmitting within a minute after hooking it back up. We’ll let you know.’
‘Good,’ Joseph said. ‘Anything else from your end, Lieutenant?’
‘We thought Dr MacGregor was going to let us search his medical cabinet without a warrant, since, you know, both his daughters are missing. But his attorney was there when we arrived and advised the father not to allow it.’ Ciccotelli sounded extremely annoyed. ‘He told the father that if Kim had stolen any of the drugs she could be found complicit in the death of Officer Zacharias. So we started a warrant app for Dr MacGregor’s supply cabinet.’
‘Dr Quartermaine?’ Joseph asked. ‘Did you get my message about one of the abductees’ fathers being a vet?’
‘I did,’ Quartermaine said. ‘I was late because I was waiting for the results of Officer Zacharias’s tox screen. Short answer is that you shouldn’t have any trouble getting a judge to sign the warrant. The victim had high levels of fentanyl and ketamine in his system, both of which would be found in a vet’s drug supply – especially a large animal vet. I’m happy to fax a copy of the autopsy report with the tox screen results to your office, Lieutenant Ciccotelli.’
‘Excellent,’ Ciccotelli said with satisfaction. ‘Thank you.’
‘What was Zacharias’s cause of death?’ Joseph asked.
‘Official cause of death was asphyxiation,’ Quartermaine said.
‘What?’ Clay sounded stunned. ‘He was strangled?’
‘Yes, but chemically, not manually. As I said, he was given a cocktail of fentanyl and ketamine, after being tased. The taser jolt incapacitates for thirty seconds at the most. Fentanyl is a fast acting narcotic – within thirty seconds, but it doesn’t last that long. Ketamine kicks in before the fentanyl wears off and lasts thirty to ninety minutes, depending on the dose. He was tased twice, then injected with the fentanyl into a vein. The ketamine was given intra-muscularly.’ He said the last sentence with a frown.
‘So how did he asphyxiate?’ Clay asked through the speaker.
‘Laryngospasm. It’s a side effect of the ketamine. The vocal cords spasm and slam shut, blocking the airway. It’s seen in operating rooms where ketamine is used as an anesthetic, but not often. Because the patient is monitored in the OR, his head would be repositioned, opening the airway. But this victim wasn’t repositioned because he wasn’t monitored. In more than two-thirds of the cases the ketamine is given intramuscularly, which was the case with this victim. It was a perfect storm – everything went exactly wrong. The victim would have been dead within seven to ten minutes.’ Quartermaine paused to stare at Daphne. ‘Miss? Are you all right?’
Daphne was white as chalk and for the second time that night Joseph wanted to kick his own ass. You just let her sit there, listening to what happened to Zacharias, knowing the same drugs were given to her son. And what was Quartermaine thinking?
He wasn’t, Joseph realized. Quartermaine had come in at the end of the introductions. He didn’t know he’d been talking to the abductee’s mother.
He opened his mouth to explain when Daphne managed a strained smile.
‘I’m okay. You came in after introductions and this is a very special situation. I’m Daphne Montgomery, State’s Attorney’s office. Ford Elkhart is my son.’
Quartermaine’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh my God. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right,’ Daphne said, her persona having changed before their eyes. Her voice had dropped a few notes and smoothed. Her posture changed, her body becoming more . . . zen. ‘How could you have known?’
She’d become the woman he’d met in Grayson’s house nine months ago, cool, composed, collected. His Daphne was bold and inviting. This woman . . . wasn’t. He glanced at Grayson, saw that his brother was staring at her too. With the exception of Quartermaine, everyone around the table had noticed.
Hector Rivera scribbled a note and passed it down to Joseph. She spoke with this same voice when she told her ex that Ford was missing and again when she talked about her cousin’s abduction. Does she even know she does it?
Damn good question, Joseph thought. Then,
it was like a switch flipped in his brain. Would she change like that during sex? He shifted in his chair, suddenly erect. Oh for God’s sake, he thought, disgusted with himself. Not now. With an effort, he pushed the mental image to the side and focused.
‘Still, I’m sorry,’ Quartermaine was saying to her. ‘Now you’re wondering if the same thing happened to Ford. And the answer is, no.’
Her brows lifted, elegantly. ‘No, definitely? Or no, in your opinion?’
He hesitated, a little rattled. ‘Both. Look, Mrs Montgomery—’
‘Miss,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s “Miss”.’
Quartermaine drew a deep breath. ‘Okay. Miss Montgomery. First, Ford fought him. We found his blood in the alley, but only enough to indicate he’d have a nasty bump. He couldn’t have fought if he’d had the same reaction as Officer Zacharias.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Dr Quartermaine.’
‘Neil,’ he said, still flustered. ‘Please.’
‘If you call me Daphne,’ she said. She made no mention of the way she’d just changed, but her cheeks flushed and Joseph knew she was very aware.
The speaker phone crackled. ‘Excuse me. This is Clay Maynard. Officer Zacharias was working in an off-duty capacity for me.’
‘Hell,’ Quartermaine muttered, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Maynard. I didn’t know you were acquainted with the victim.’
‘It’s okay,’ Clay said in a flat voice. ‘I can deal. I just wanted to know, was he wearing any body armor at all?’
‘No. He had his badge on a chain, under his sweatshirt, but no vest. His holster was also empty and no weapons were found on or around the body. I am sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ Clay repeated. ‘Thank you for taking care of him. We appreciate it.’
Joseph turned his attention to Brodie. ‘Have you figured out how he got Ford and Kimberly out of the alley?’
‘We did,’ Brodie said. ‘I went back to the alley after the techs had moved a lot of the trash. The garbage on the street had been mixed around, erasing his tracks, but the techs found oil mixed with hydraulic fluid on the pavement at the end of the alley and on some of the debris in the area where Ford would have fallen.’