“And two dead.”
Stucky, however, was still alive. He was now handcuffed, on a gurney and inside another ambulance along with police guards.
Maggie waved off a paramedic when he tried to look at her wounds. She wasn’t bleeding, and right now she didn’t feel any pain.
“I’ll wait for the next ambulance,” she told him.
She managed to call Rita. She told her where they were taking Carly, and she tried to reassure her that the girl didn’t seem to be injured, other than being drugged.
Maggie was surprised that Stucky hadn’t bothered to take her cell phone though she had no idea where her weapon was.
A CSU van arrived. Another police cruiser, too, adding more blinking red and blue lights just as the sun disappeared. She heard more sirens in the distance. There was a lot to process, and they’d probably be here most of the night. No one even noticed as Maggie slipped away. She followed the railroad tracks and crossed the highway under the overpass. She found her car where she’d left it, slid in behind the wheel and locked the doors.
There would be dozens of questions, but they could wait until tomorrow.
She was tired, so tremendously tired. She put her arms on the steering wheel and rested her head on top of them. She could still hear sirens. Finally, she sat back. She grabbed a bottle of water from her cooler. She twisted the cap off and gulped it down. Then she pulled out her cell phone again.
All she wanted right now was to talk to someone who wouldn’t ask a lot of questions. Who wouldn’t give her a lecture or ask why she had shut her phone off. Someone who’d only want to know how she was doing. That she was okay.
Maggie found the number and dialed. It took only two rings.
“This is Gwen Patterson.”
“Gwen, it’s Maggie.”
“Oh my God, we were so worried about you? Are you okay?”
Maggie closed her eyes, leaned her head against the backrest and said, “I got him. I stopped the bastard.”
Silence. Long enough for Maggie to second-guess her decision of calling. She braced herself for the barrage of questions along with a stern lecture.
But then Gwen said, “Tell me where you are. I’m going to come get you.”
Four days later
87
Monday
Quantico
Maggie waited. The hardback chair in front of Cunningham’s desk felt incredibly uncomfortable. Anita had told her to go ahead and wait for him inside his office. He’d only be a few minutes.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Anita said. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Maggie shook her head.
“You sure? Maybe some water?”
Maggie shook her head a second time then wondered if the assistant knew something she didn’t know. Would having a glass of water make this summons more comfortable?
No, she doubted anything would.
Now Maggie wondered how much Gwen had told Cunningham. Did her allegiance to him override her promise to Maggie? She suspected that she was about to find out.
Maggie was still surprised that Gwen had even shown up. So much of what happened after the warehouse remained a blur. She knew it was partly because of the Ketamine and the Valium. Ketamine could cause blackouts and memory loss as well as hallucinations. At times Maggie questioned how much of what she remembered was real and how much was simply the side effect of the drug.
Did she really beat Albert Stucky with a baseball bat?
In the nightmares that already haunted her sleep, she could see him cutting her as she watched from somewhere up above. But that was real. The wound still oozed a bit.
When Gwen had arrived, Maggie forgot to tell her about it.
No, that wasn’t true.
She hadn’t forgotten. She never intended to tell Gwen.
But five or six hours into their trip home to Virginia, Gwen noticed before Maggie did. The wound was seeping through her T-shirt.
“You’re bleeding!”
The detour to an emergency room was even a blur. Was it Daytona Beach? Jacksonville? She wasn’t sure. But she did remember how concerned Gwen looked. Concern that didn’t come with a lecture or a scolding. That was a new concept for Maggie.
But she suspected she was in for lecture now from Cunningham. A lecture and a reprimand.
“Agent O’Dell.”
He startled her from behind, coming into his office. She turned but tried not to stare. She hadn’t seen him yet with his cane. The temporary limp wasn’t pronounced, but it was enough to make him look more vulnerable than she was prepared for.
“I see you made it home safely.”
“Yes, sir.”
She focused on her hands in her lap and how much effort it took to keep them from balling up into fists. She didn’t want to watch Cunningham get settled into his desk chair and how much effort that was taking.
He opened a drawer and brought out several files.
Was one of them her file, again?
She had no idea what to expect. Nor did she know what exactly happened to an agent when she was insubordinate. Although insubordinate would mean that she had simply disobeyed orders. This wasn’t as simple that.
No one knew she had followed Stucky down to Florida. She hadn’t reported the container he’d left in her refrigerator, let alone tell anyone about the note. Cunningham had still been in the hospital. Had she waited for approval, Carly Burke might be dead.
But that wasn’t the point, and she knew it. It was more than disobeying orders. Despite being a novice in fieldwork, she knew the rules. She knew protocol. Going rogue wasn’t acceptable.
“Paige Barnett’s sister was one of the victims,” Cunningham said as he sorted through a file folder. “Lydia Barnett. The other woman was a friend she’d brought along. I’m guessing Stucky pretended to have information about her sister and lured her to the warehouse.”
“The bodies in the SUV?” Maggie asked.
Cunningham nodded.
“I saw the vehicle when it was outside the warehouse. They must have just gotten there. If I'd just been a little sooner, I could have—”
“Stop.” He said it with his hand up as if physically stopping her, and the gesture made her sit up straight. “You risked your life and your career to save this young girl. I understand that. I get that. But that’s where it stops. You can’t get into the mindset that you could have saved them. We can’t save them all.”
He stared at her. Maggie had no idea what response he expected, so she stayed silent.
“Because of those two murders, he’ll remain in Florida. For now. He’s being charged with kidnapping as well. They’ll need your testimony when the time comes. In the meantime, you and Ganza will need to work together on these other victims. Have you talked to Keith yet?”
“No, sir.”
“He and Wagner have the body count up to five just from that ravine.”
Five and still counting. That didn’t include the Boston councilwoman. Maggie knew there were others.
She noticed that Cunningham had sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He shifted his weight in the chair, and she realized his wound was making him a whole lot more uncomfortable than she was.
“According to Rita Burke, he was a bartender at Gibson’s Restaurant and Pub. Started a few months ago. Said he was going to culinary school.”
“Culinary school?”
“She said that he was smart and charming. And attractive.”
Maggie nodded. That didn’t surprise her. Ted Bundy had been described as handsome and charming. Although culinary school was something she would have never guessed.
“He went by Drew but on his application he used Dennis Andrew Nilsen. Do you recognize that name?”
It took her a few seconds and she nodded. “Handsome, charming and clever”
.
Dennis Andrew Nilsen was a notorious serial killer who murdered at least a dozen young men in London between 1978 and 1983.
“Albert Stucky made millions of dollars over a decade ago,” Cunningham told her, “before he walked away from his computer business. As far as I can tell, he just disappeared one day.”
“And became someone else.”
“I think once you start digging in, you’ll find he has several aliases. And I’m afraid we’ll find even more victims.”
He looked at her again, studying her. She didn’t flinch under his scrutiny.
“I understand you did what you believed was right. You have good instincts, Agent O’Dell, but instinct is not enough in this job. You could have gotten yourself killed. That’s unacceptable. Is that clear?”
She nodded and was waiting for the reprimand when he reached to another desk drawer. This time he pulled out a revolver and placed it in the middle of his desk. It was her Smith & Wesson service revolver.
“Miami officers found this in the warehouse. Traced the serial number. They were curious because they said there wasn’t an FBI agent on the scene. Two deceased victims. Two alive. But no FBI agent.”
Here it was. She felt her back straighten as if preparing for the punishment. She had already decided that she wouldn’t argue with him.
Cunningham slid the revolver closer to her, giving it to her, as he said, “They told me the weapon hadn’t been fired. If it had, that would trigger an internal disciplinary investigation. But in fact, they said there was no gunfire. No gunshot wounds. I have their full report.” And he tapped the file folder but his eyes never left Maggie’s. He paused as if giving her a chance to explain. Maggie kept quiet.
“I’ll expect to see your report by the end of the week. Is that clear?”
But she wasn’t too clear at all. Was he really giving her weapon back instead of taking it away?
“Agent O’Dell?”
He waited for her eyes to meet his then said, “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, sir.”
“Then get back to work.”
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, a huge thank you to Deb Carlin who made it possible to create, publish and get this book out to you. She and her team at Prairie Wind Publishing did an amazing job. And I think she would agree that we couldn’t have done it without our pack: Duncan, Boomer, Maggie and Huck. Once again, you guys are my heart and soul.
Thanks to my friends and family who put up with my long absences and help keep me grounded: Sharon Car, Marlene Haney, Sandy Rock-wood, Dr. Enita Larson, Amee Rief, Sharon Kator, Dan Macke, Erica Spindler, Linda and Doug Buck, Leigh Ann Retelsdorf and Pat Heng, Patti and Martin Bremmer.
To my publishing teams at Little Brown Sphere in the UK and Harper Collins in Poland and to my agent, Scott Miller at Trident Media Group.
Special thanks to Lee Child for an awesome quote, and I do believe Jack Reacher and Maggie O’Dell would be great friends, if not long-lost twins.
As always, a thank you to all the booksellers, librarians, book clubs and book bloggers for mentioning and recommending my novels.
And thank you all of my VIR Club members, Facebook friends, faith-ful readers. With so many wonderful novels available, I’m honored that you continue to choose mine. Without you, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to share my twisted tales.
Last, this book is dedicated to an amazing and wonderful friend of mine, Patti El-Kachouti. Despite chronic pain and a battle with cancer, she was one of the most positive people I know. Over twenty years ago, she was one of the few people I shared my dream to be a novelist. She inspired and encouraged and always celebrated every step of the way, even when struggling in her own life. She lost her battle with cancer November 13, 2016.
I can’t imagine what the opening Huskers football game will be like without you, my friend. We all miss you dearly.
MEET ALEX KAVA
Photo Credit: Deborah Groh Carlin
ALEX KAVA is the New York Times bestselling author of the critically acclaimed Maggie O’Dell series and a new series featuring former Marine, Ryder Creed and his K-9 dogs
Her stand-alone novel, One False Move, was chosen for the 2006 One Book One Nebraska and her political thriller, Whitewash, was one of January Magazine’s best thrillers of the year. Her novel, Stranded was awarded both a Florida Book Award and the Nebraska Book Award.
Published in over thirty-three countries, Alex’s novels have made the bestseller lists in the UK, Australia, Germany, Japan, Italy and Poland. She is also a co-author of the novellas Slices of Night and Storm Season with Erica Spindler and J.T. Ellison
She is a member of the Nebraska Writers Guild and a founding member of International Thriller Writers.
To learn more about Alex Kava, Maggie O’Dell and Ryder Creed and his K-9 team, follow her on Facebook and become a V.I.R. member (Very Important Reader) at www.alexkava.com.
A Note From The Publisher
First of all I want to thank you for reading BEFORE EVIL.
If you have enjoyed it I would be grateful if you would write a review. It doesn’t have to be long—a few words would make a difference in helping readers discover new authors for the first time.
I also know that Alex would love to hear from you. Please find her on all the social media websites and get in on the conversations on her personal website. Currently she is working on future books for your enjoyment.
Sincerely,
Deb Carlin
Prairie Wind Publishing
Alex Kava, Before Evil
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