Deadly Sins (30 page)

“How do you figure?” But dread was pooling nastily in her gut. She had a feeling she already knew. In the next moment he proved that feeling right.

“’Cuz I’m guessing you have maternal instincts. Even cold, heartless bitches have ’em, right? So you’re not going to want the book to come out with all these questions ’bout your kid’s father. Don’t have the answers to those questions yet, because frankly, I don’t give a shit. But I can look into it. You want to keep the kid out of the book? Fine by me. All you have to do is give me the inside information I need to finish Raiker’s story.”

A vise was squeezing her chest, making it difficult to draw in oxygen. She had the impulse to go sprinting down the hallway, just to make sure Royce was asleep in his own bed. Safe. Secure. The way she’d promised she’d always keep him.

This man wasn’t going to change that. “You’ve made a very big mistake, Bolton.” Because there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she wouldn’t risk to keep her son safe.

But she wasn’t about to throw Adam under a bus to do it.

“You’ll come around. After I start sending you pages with your kid front and center. This book is going to make a big splash. How long will it be, y’think, before some kids start saying stuff to your son about it? Maybe you were screwing more than one guy at the time. D’you even know who the father is? Doesn’t matter. People will remember the questions raised in the book, not your answers.”

It took effort to think logically. To reach for reason. “I think you’re full of shit.”

“Figured you say that. So I’m just going to write up a sample chapter and send it over to you. Once that convinces you I mean business, I think you’ll agree that giving me a little information on the man is a fair trade-off. You sleep on it.” The smug satisfaction in his voice had her wanting to reach through the connection and strangle him. “I’m guessing you’ll come round. I’ll be talking to you.”

The call ended. But it was several moments before Jaid could unclench her fingers from the cell. Even more before she set it back on the table. Her mind racing, she sat motionless in bed for a long time.

Bolton was issuing an empty threat. She was almost certain of it. They didn’t issue Pulitzers to people for trashing others in tell-all exposés.

But what seemed like exploitative journalism to her may well have passed for investigative reporting to others. And the fact remained that she couldn’t be sure his publisher would have a problem with it. At any rate it wasn’t the book itself that scared her the most. It was arming Bolton with details that she’d much rather keep hidden.

Driven to move, she threw off the covers. Padded quietly in the dark down the hall to Royce’s room. Easing the door open, she saw the familiar outline of her son, lit by the dim glow that spilled from his Baltimore Ravens nightlight. He slept sprawled on his back, his uninjured arm flung out as if sleep had caught him mid motion.

Emotion clogged her throat. She’d spent years keeping him from harm. But in spite of her brave words to Bolton, the thought of the reporter looking into the details of his birth, his parentage, shot ice water into her veins.

Leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, her gaze fixed on the small form in the bed. And as one hour stretched into another, she mentally grappled for a way to extricate them both from a situation that could easily turn deadly.

Hedgelin looked at them from over the top of steepled fingers. “Due to the sensitive nature of this information, you won’t find it in the case file. Only a few are privy to it, but given your assistance with Harandi the other night, I thought you deserved to be apprised of the facts that have come to light in that matter.”

Assistance
. Adam cocked a brow, looked at Jaid. If not for them, Harandi would be back in his home country right now, so the descriptor seemed tepid. But he supposed this update was the only recognition of that fact they were likely to get from Hedgelin.

The assistant director consulted a sheet on his desk. “The case you found on the Supreme Court docket,
Paxton vs. the United States
, is indeed one that was of interest to Harandi. A couple of years ago another case with similarities made its way to the high court. At its heart was the question of whether an individual who had won damages against the Iranian government could tap the government’s frozen assets for payment. That part of the case went unanswered. The Paxton case is similar but will require a more clear-cut conclusion. Agents found volumes of literature on the subject in the professor’s home. Even more on his computers, both at home and school. DHS is reevaluating their original assessment of the doctor’s reason for being in this country.”

It was simple enough to read between the lines. “You mean they now think that Saeed Harandi might be an Iranian spy?”

Hedgelin didn’t flinch. “His intentions have come under renewed scrutiny. And that’s all I can say on the subject.”

Jaid sounded frustrated. “Will we be allowed to question him about this latest homicide? Just because he was in custody didn’t mean he couldn’t still be pulling the strings. It’s likely a professional is carrying out the actual kills anyway.”

The assistant director shifted his gaze to Adam. “The probability is high,” he conceded. “I’ve adjusted my original profile somewhat.” He reached down to take the revised profile from his briefcase and rose to hand copies to Hedgelin, Jaid, and Shepherd. “There’s evidence of a large degree of personal antipathy toward the victims. I doubt that they serve merely as symbols of each sin or that their selection is relatively random.”

“How much satisfaction can he get if he’s not getting the rush from the acts?”

“It’s still possible the one behind the crimes is in fact the killer,” Adam allowed in response to Shepherd’s question. “Keep in mind that scenario, however, effectively eliminates every person of interest we’ve spoken to in this case, all of whom have alibis for at least one of the dates.” Silence greeted his words. “If, indeed, the homicides are not hired out, you’re looking for someone with a personal vendetta against each victim, real or perceived. And our offender would have had to acquire a high degree of skill to kill three different ways.”

“Two of the murders were hands-on,” Jaid murmured. When she turned to look at him, he had a moment to observe the shadows under her eyes. “Reinbeck’s wasn’t, but given his position, he’d be difficult to get close to. The rifle might have been a necessity there.”

“Or else the offender harbored more anger toward Patterson and Cote than he did Reinbeck,” Shepherd added.

“At any rate he’d have to acquire his skill somewhere.” Adam addressed Hedgelin. “I imagine someone is already compiling a threat list for the cardinal.” He didn’t wait for the other man’s nod before going on. “I’d suggest you start examining each threat list for someone with former military training.” A black-ops soldier might have received the training necessary to carry out these murders. Or a professional who hired out to the highest bidder.

“There hasn’t been an intersection on Patterson’s and Reinbeck’s threat lists,” Hedgelin reminded Adam.

He shrugged. “This is a highly intelligent offender. He wouldn’t have made threats against every target.” Adam thought he’d be too careful to make any at all, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility. “All we need is one name on one list. Then we make connections with the two other victims on our own.”

“But if you had to make an educated guess,” the assistant director pressed him, “is this guy doing his own killings or hiring them out?”

Adam glowered at Hedgelin. Adam hated dealing in conjecture. “What good does guesswork do?” But when the other man didn’t look away, he moved his shoulders in frustration. “If Lambert is being honest, the way he was used points to an unknown subject who is quite adept at manipulating people to do his bidding. I think it’s a mistake to believe the UNSUB wouldn’t be completely satisfied without enacting the killings himself. It’s likely gratification comes from multiple levels. And remaining unexposed and able to continue this vendetta would be seen as a necessity as well.”

The assistant director pulled the laptop on the desk toward himself and opened it. They waited for several minutes while he typed in commands and scanned information. Then he looked up again. “Three names from Patterson’s and Reinbeck’s combined threat lists have military backgrounds. Only one with special-training experience. Donald Vale was dishonorably discharged from the U.S. Marines seven years ago for drug-related offenses. He sent a letter to Judge Reinbeck, before he was elevated to the Supreme Court, ranting about his views on gun control. He was checked out then, and a warning was delivered. But he wasn’t considered a serious threat.”

Hedgelin broke off to scroll down on the report again. “He was paid a visit the day after Reinbeck’s death by a team comprised of USMS, DHS, and FBI personnel. They never got farther than his porch. He was described as combative and uncooperative, but his wife vouched for the fact that they were dining in a local restaurant when they saw the news come on about the justice’s death.” Hedgelin looked up again, his expression grim. “This was verified by several diners at the establishment as was the fact that Vale cheered loudly at the news report.”

“Has anyone followed up on any possible connection he might have to Patterson?” Jaid asked.

“None was found. It’s too early to know if he had any link to Cote.”

Shepherd looked at Adam. “It wouldn’t hurt to find out if he admits to knowing the cardinal. And whether he has an alibi for the night of his death.”

Hedgelin wrote down the address. “He lives on a small farm outside Purcellville.” Shepherd got up to take the slip of paper from the assistant director. “He wasn’t exactly welcoming when the other team stopped out there. Be careful. I understand there is a large collection of weapons in the house. Because he’s prohibited from buying them, they were all purchased by the wife.”

“Great,” Jaid drawled.

But Adam’s mind was on something else. He rose when the other two agents did and headed for the door. But halfway there he turned, mentioned as casually as possible, “I know a priest in Cardinal Cote’s diocese. Maybe he can shed some light on whether any allegations ever surfaced regarding the cardinal.”

Just the reminder of the word scrawled on the note card left at the scene had Hedgelin scowling. “Lieutenant Griega has already looked into it. There is no record of a public complaint about Cote. I don’t want that topic even introduced in interviews. We’re not going to be responsible for a scandal breaking out after the man’s death.”

“Actually, Adam’s idea has merit,” Shepherd put in. He had slipped on a long dark wool overcoat. “The church has a reputation for covering things like that up.” He held up a hand in mock surrender. “I’m not saying that’s the case here. Just that someone in the church might have been in the position to have heard about an incident that was never reported to the police.”

“Fine.” Hedgelin bit off the word, his expression fierce. “You’re to use the most general of terms and not refer specifically to what was referenced on the note card. Or even mention its existence.”

“In other words, fish.” Jaid headed out the door. “Got it.”

Adam followed her silently. He was pleased enough with the parameters given. More so that they would be the team on record to speak to Jerry. If it became apparent in other interviews that his friend’s rocky relationship with the cardinal was widely known, or perhaps more venomous than Adam had been led to believe, there would likely be another visit. This time from a team far less friendly than theirs.

“How long have I known Cardinal Cote?” Jerry tipped his head back to consider Jaid’s question. “Three decades, I suppose, give or take. Knew him when he was a monsignor, long before he was made cardinal. He was a devout man. An inspiration to all in his diocese.”

“That’s a long time.” Jaid unbuttoned her coat and sent Jerry a smile. “Long enough to know if the man had any enemies.”