Pitch Black (3 page)

Blackstone confirmed as much, his tone matter-of-fact. “I don’t have copies of the reports yet, but the coroner says drowning is the cause of death.”

Exposure had obviously come in a close second. Alec honestly couldn’t decide which was worse.

“A farmer spotted the submerged car in a pond on his property two days ago, during a warm spell that melted off some of the ice. The bodies were pulled up yesterday.”

“Were they held elsewhere, then brought to the lake to be killed?” asked Stokes. The frown on her brow and the tightness of her lips indicated she wasn’t quite as dispassionate about what they were seeing as her boss.

“Judging by the evidence gathered so far, we believe the boys were killed the night they disappeared. We know they were lured to this particular spot. I think it’s safe to assume they were not brought here by someone else but arrived of their own volition.”

The program continued to flash thorough, detailed images, which everyone silently studied, looking down occasionally to take notes.

Alec never looked down. He kept his attention focused on the photos, waiting for something about them to click with him. He’d spent three years as a profile coordinator in the Richmond field office before transferring up to Quantico last year. And one thing he’d learned was that every murder scene had a story to tell. Once he’d spotted the right opening into that story, it often unfolded in his head with remarkable clarity.

In this one, it was the victims’ vehicle. It had been photographed as it was being removed from the lake, as well as once it was onshore. There was something about it, something unexpected.

“I’d say we’re looking at a single unsub, acting on his own,” Alec murmured, realizing what had been bothering him.

Six pairs of eyes shifted in his direction.

“Quite a leap, don’t you think, based on nothing but some crime scene photos?” Stokes said, one brow raised in skepticism.

“They were lured to the scene and killed almost right away.”

“So?”

“So the unsub wasn’t sure he could overpower and manage a pair of strong, lacrosse-playing teenage boys for any length of time.”

“We think he was expecting only one of the boys to be there, and the other might have been an unexpected complication,” Blackstone said. “But please continue, Alec. Jason Todd was, indeed, a big, strong young man, so your reasoning could still be correct.”

More certain now, Alec said, “That makes it even more likely. Our suspect caused an accident to surprise or incapacitate his intended victim, Jason, again suggesting he wasn’t sure he could handle a single boy for long, and he didn’t have assistance.”

“An accident?” Stokes wasn’t giving up. “How do you figure? You can see in the pictures of the car there was no air bag deployment. For all we know, the kids parked, got out, and walked into someone with a gun and he pushed the car in the lake.”

Alec shook his head. “Look at the damage. The car impacted something on the side.” He narrowed his eyes, studying the picture harder. “That’s a Riviera. They stopped making them in, oh, 1999, I think. No side air bags.”

“Now he’s a car expert?” the woman mumbled.

Alec ignored her, figuring he was getting a little new-kid treatment. “The suspect could have blocked the road, forcing the driver to swerve to avoid the obstacle. From there, the car probably spun sideways into one of those trees near the shoreline.”

“Maybe our suspect didn’t have anything to do with the crash,” offered Mulrooney. He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Coulda stumbled across it, pretended to be a bystander, then whammo.”

“Whammo? You’re saying some random psychopath stumbled across two helpless, injured crash victims and murdered them because he didn’t have anything better to do that night?” shot back Taggert, who rolled his eyes in irritation. “Who are we looking for here, Freddy Krueger? That shit only happens in teenage slasher movies and Girl Scouts campfire stories.”

Mulrooney chuckled, which was when Alec pegged their relationship. The older agent was blustery and obviously liked to taunt bears. The bear, in this case, being Dean Taggert. “If we could continue,” Blackstone interjected smoothly. Everyone quieted down, if not convinced of Alec’s assertion, at least no longer arguing about it. One thing Alec noted: Nobody questioned whether his point made a damn bit of difference. Because they all knew it did. Knowing whether they were dealing with one unsub or multiple ones could mean the difference between a weeklong investigation and a six-month-long one.

Surprisingly, it was the single-suspect situation that could drag things out. Accomplices tended to talk to somebody, so pairs or groups were usually easier to catch.

“I believe Special Agent Lambert could be correct,” the team leader said. “Judging by some residual paint discovered on a tree near the water, the car might have crashed into it.”

Though not surprised, Alec was relieved his instincts hadn’t dulled with the months of inactivity. He also couldn’t help wondering why Blackstone had let him theorize if he knew all along the car had crashed. But hell, the guy was whispered to be almost supernaturally perceptive. Maybe he just knew Alec needed to start believing he was any damn good at this job anymore.

“And yes, we are looking at one suspect, and he typically acts alone.”

The tension in the room rose, everyone realizing Blackstone had more to tell them.

“This is somebody we know?” asked Brandon Cole, who’d been silent until this point.

Nodding, Blackstone clicked a few keys again, changing the image on the screen to an enlarged shot of a single-spaced page of text. An e-mail. Alec read it quickly, wondering what some Internet scam that had landed in his in-box a hundred times had to do with their case.

Confirming everyone had finished, Blackstone typed again and the image flashed forward. Several e-mails appeared now, many of them signed, “Jason.” And a few, “Your friend, Dr. Waffi.” The doctor reminded his friend to come alone to their meeting.

Hence the unexpected complication—Ryan Smith.

It was the “your friend, Dr. Waffi” that got Alec’s instincts sizzling. He shifted in his chair, leaning forward to drop his forearms onto the surface of the broad, pitted oak table gouged with the shadows of decades’ worth of handwritten notes. He tried to catch the random thoughts winging through his head but was unable to do it right away.

“These e-mails were retrieved from Jason Todd’s computer during the days before the bodies were discovered. The local police had at first assumed they were dealing with a pair of teen runaways, which is why the media hasn’t been all over this.”

Two kidnapped teen boys would have made national news. Two runaways not even a blip on the radar.

“Once Jason’s parents discovered these messages, the police began to take things more seriously. You can follow the e-mails sequentially and see he was taken in by a get-rich-quick scheme.”

It appeared Jason Todd truly believed some foreign diplomat was going to give him millions of dollars to help him get to hidden bank accounts. God, it was hard to believe anyone, even a teenager, would fall for one of the oldest scams on the Net.

“So the e-mails are directly tied to the murders,” Lily said. “Which is why we’re in?”

Blackstone nodded. “Yes. They were used to lure Jason Todd and his friend Ryan Smith to their deaths. Exactly the kind of thing we’re supposed to be involved with. I’ve already been in touch with the local authorities, who would be grateful for the help.” Casting a level stare in Alec’s direction, he added, “These aren’t his first victims. I believe the same unsub lured a young woman to her death using an online help-wanted ad five weeks ago.”

Talk about a bombshell. The entire team, who obviously hadn’t known, reacted to the news, spewing questions and speculation.

“We aren’t officially part of that investigation yet,” Wyatt explained. “But I’ve talked to the lead detectives. I had a suspicion and have been keeping tabs on the case.” Those intense eyes gleamed. “Let’s just say the murders of Jason and Ryan have increased my suspicions.”

Everyone continued talking. Everyone except Alec, who still felt his boss’s attention solely on him. Those quick, random thoughts continued to click away in his head, connecting the pieces, adding one more.

It had been five weeks ago, before Alec was even medically cleared to go back to the job, when Blackstone had approached him to come work with his team full-time. Alec had been in touch with the man before that, having agreed to assist on the Reaper case, at least until a bullet got in the way. But it had been right around the time he’d heard about this help-wanted murder that Blackstone asked him to make it a permanent thing.

The team leader held one hand up, silencing the voices. “The national media hasn’t gotten hold of the discovery of the bodies yet, but the story did hit the Wilmington press yesterday evening. Last night another e-mail came into Jason’s account. Obviously the person writing it knew it would be intercepted, because it was addressed to Jason’s parents. And to the FBI.”

The whirring of the computer the only sound in the room, the picture changed again. The message on the screen was simple.
Such a stupid boy. You are quite welcome for the service I provided in giving him the chance to prove his worth. Unfortunately for him, he failed. Which, I must say, is perhaps not so unfortunate for the rest of us trapped in a world populated by utter fools. Signed, Your Friend.

And suddenly Alec got it. Why Blackstone had come to him, had plucked him up from certain termination and given him a place on his team. Why he hadn’t been kicked on his ass out of the bureau.

Why he was so badly needed.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered, every cell in his body going on high alert.

Blackstone had suspected whom he was dealing with at the time of the help-wanted murder and had started working to get Alec on board. Now, on his very first day, the man’s intuition had paid off.

Alec’s heart raced, his pulse spurting in his veins. Adrenaline coursed through him, as it always did when the chase was on. “It’s him.”

Blackstone nodded once, but Alec didn’t need the confirmation. He’d recognize the tone, the arrogance in the final e-mail, absolutely anywhere. The “your friend” signoff had been used in a note in the third murder. It was only because he’d been focused on the bogus “Dr. Waffi” name that he hadn’t realized it before.

He should have figured it out sooner for other reasons. The unusual crime scene was a dead giveaway, as was the intentional psychological torment of the victims. Jason and Ryan had been put on the ice conscious and aware, intentionally left to spend their last moments in utter terror, wondering when it would break beneath them.

The teens had been lured into a trap that had been well thought out and beyond cruel. Murdered without their killer ever lifting his own violent hand against them. That alone revealed a wealth of information about the psyche of the suspect they were dealing with. Oh, yes. It all fit.

“Who?” Stokes sounded annoyed at being out of the loop. “What’s he talking about?”

Still not quite believing that he was going to get another crack at the criminal who’d haunted his most vivid nightmares, Alec sprawled back in his chair.

“Well?” Taggert asked. Appearing equally agitated that the newcomer was the only other person in the know, he glanced back and forth between his boss and Alec.

“Alec?” Blackstone said.

Not even quite believing he was saying it, Alec smiled—a determined, dangerous smile holding absolutely no humor.

“We’re going after the Professor.”

“S
o tell me again
everything you know about this Professor guy. All the stuff you told us yesterday in the briefing and anything else you
didn’t
.”