Touching Evil (6 page)

With her hand in his, he returned her handshake.  “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you lose,” he informed her solemnly.  

For some reason his words made her feel lighter than she had in days.  “I know.  I’d expect nothing less.”

*  *  *  *

Sonny waited impatiently in the back of the rutted parking lot, with only a handful of aspirin to fight the waves of agony eddying from the wound in his leg.  Every once in a while a whimper of pain escaped his clenched jaw.  
It fucking hurt!  
He hoped he’d killed that cop in the woman’s condo.  And he wished he’d snapped that kid’s neck.  Then the cop who’d shot him would have been blamed for letting the situation go so wrong.  Sonny hadn’t wanted to deal with a hostage and like a dumbass, he’d dropped the kid too soon.  

He’d pulled off the headgear, hoodie and gloves then turned the sweatshirt inside out and tried to scrub Channing’s blood from his face.  Pain radiated from the wound in his leg.  He might have injured himself even further when he’d pulled into an alley after getting away to steal different plates for the vehicle.  But if the cop had gotten close enough to shoot him, he might have been near enough to see his license plates, too.  Sonny could switch the plates yet again when he got home, but first he had to get treatment.  He knew better than to go to a hospital with an unexplained gunshot wound.   Which was why he was sitting behind the peeling single story concrete block building waiting for a man he’d despised for most of the last twenty years.

The sun had been up for the better part of two hours before a mid-sized sedan pulled into the lot and parked near the back door of the building.  The car gleamed with polish but that didn’t hide the scratches and dings on the doors, or the rust forming over the back wheel well.  The man who slid out from behind the wheel was also showing his age.  His thin shoulders were beginning to droop and the bald spot on the back of his head was noticeable even from a distance.  Sonny waited for the man to let himself into the building before putting his vehicle in gear and backing up to pull in right next to the other car.

He slipped silently through the back door, every movement an agony.  The man was crouched in front of an aging computer, his gaze intent on the screen.

“Let me guess.  Kiddy porn?”

Jerking around, the man fumbled for the keyboard, finally finding the key to turn the screen black.  But not before Sonny had gotten the glimpse he needed to affirm his suspicions.  Disgusted, he snapped, “Still a pervert, Davis?  Still bringing little boys to your clinic to show them the animals and then proving that you’re the only real animal in the place?”

Davis rose and cast a quick look around as if in search of help.  “I told you before, I don’t want you to come here anymore.”

Painfully, Sonny moved further into the room before stopping and locking the door behind him.  “Way I recall it, you were the only one to
cum
in this room.”

The other man flushed.  “My employees will be arriving shortly.  What do you want?”

In answer, Sonny unwrapped the crumpled blood-soaked Kleenexes he had stuffed against the wound and turned to show the man.  “You have to get this bullet out of me.”

Davis gaped.  “Are you crazy?” he hissed.  “I’m not risking my license for you.  Go to a damn hospital.”

“They’d have to report gunshot wounds.”  Sonny limped carefully to the door that led to the front of the clinic.  Locked it, too.  “And you will operate because if you don’t I’ll go straight to your wife and tell her that her husband likes to fuck little boys.  I’m guessing she already suspects.  And then I’m going to tell the cops the same thing.  Losing your license is the least of your worries.”

The older man blanched.  “I stopped.”  The whine in his voice scraped down Sonny’s nerves.  “After just a few times, I stopped, you know I did.  And I made it up to you.  I gave you that drug you asked for a few months ago.  It’s not fair the way you keep coming back.”

The gun was in his hand so fast the man blinked, before staggering backward in an attempt to put distance between them.  “You don’t want to talk to me about fair.  Not after what you did to me.  Now get the tools you’ll need.  If you’re quick maybe I can be gone before your workers get here.”

Davis’s whole body jolted at the reminder.  “It wasn’t just me.  Your mother…”

A red wash of rage flooded Sonny’s vision.  Fogged his brain.  He was six again.  Cowering in the closet, trying to shit himself in the vain hopes of so disgusting the man who would come through his bedroom door that he’d be left alone. “Mommy is
dead
.  She was a monster and so are you.”  One-handed, Sonny fumbled to unfasten his pants, peel them down his legs.  “And you’re going to want to make sure I don’t feel a thing when you take that bullet out, or you’ll end up the same way she did.”

*  *  *  *

Winding down his summary of the events of last night for the team members present for the hastily arranged briefing, Cam ended with, “Agent Franks is certain he wounded the UNSUB as he fled, so Des Moines Police Department officers are checking the local hospitals and clinics for patients who came in with gunshot wounds in the last few hours.  The crime scene team found some small samples that might prove to be the UNSUB’s blood at the site where his vehicle was parked.”   Cam couldn’t help glancing toward the chair Franks usually commandeered.  It was an empty reminder of what the scene last night had cost them.  Boggs in the hospital.  Both he and Franks on paid administrative leave until the internal review board cleared them of wrongdoing in the shootout with the UNSUB.  Cam was going to do his damnedest to ensure that review was expedited.

“Franks got the license plate number so we’ve got a BOLO out on the offender’s car.”  

“There’s a short window of opportunity on the be-on-the-lookout alert,” Agent Alex Beachum observed.  “After kidnapping Van Wheton, he switched the plates sometime while transporting her to Iowa.”  

Cam nodded.  “And the van used in that crime was likely tinted navy before it was spotted in Channing’s neighborhood, then switched back to white later.  So this guy might have the skill to change more than just the plates on his vehicle.  DMPD officers are canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone can offer more details.  Patrick, you’ll go over the footage from the security cameras we installed in Dr. Channing’s apartment, but for now we’re operating under the assumption that the guy who went there to kill her is the same man who was seen assaulting a corpse a few hours earlier.”  The man had been wearing a hood and goggles when Boggs and Franks saw him, but maybe at some point during his time inside the condo he’d removed one or both.

He stopped for a moment to scan the group assembled before him, noting in a dim part of his brain that contrary to her stated intentions, Special Agent Gonzalez was not in the room.  “One of the witnesses at the river has positively identified the man he saw.  He ID’d him from the sketch Agent Turner drew of the man who kidnapped Van Wheton and was caught on camera transporting her from Edina to Iowa.  From there the accomplice apparently handed her over to Vance.  It goes to follow that the same man was doing Vance’s bidding when he attempted to kill Dr. Channing early this morning.”

And he’d pay dearly, Cam vowed silent, for his attempt on Sophie’s life.  He’d make sure of that.  

Looking down to consult his notes, he said,  “We’ve got one crime scene team finishing up at the Raccoon River site and another still dispatched at Channing’s condo.  It’ll be hours yet before they’re done there, but there will be plenty of ballistics evidence at the second scene.”

“What’s the latest on Corbin?”

Cam looked at Brody Robbins, the youngest agent on the team.  He’d transferred to the Major Crimes Unit only months ago, and with this investigation he was gaining experience fast.  “The couch slowed the velocity of the bullets, and Boggs was wearing a vest, so both of those facts worked in his favor.  One slug was buried in the couch, the vest stopped another, but he was hit in the arm by the third.  He won’t be released from the hospital until tomorrow, depending on the damage.” Cam could be thankful the man wasn’t hurt worse while remaining cognizant that Boggs’ medical leave was likely going to extend well beyond his administrative leave.

“Our best bet is the slugs the criminalists will retrieve from Channing’s spare bedroom, and the spent cartridges expelled from the offender’s weapon.  I’ve submitted a request to have the ballistics evidence fast-tracked, so we can expect a quick turnaround with the results.”  He saw a few of the agents straighten in their chairs, looking slightly less grim.  Although it was too soon for optimism, he was similarly anxious to see if the brass left behind from the offender’s gun would provide them with a lead.

“We’re due for some luck.”  God knows last night hadn’t brought any.  “The kids who found the body last night voluntarily surrendered their cell phones.  They claimed they hadn’t taken any pictures…”  There was an audible snort of disbelief from one of the agents.  “…but I left the phones with the cyber-crime unit to make sure.  Channing’s neighbor’s boy, Carter Hammel is at the hospital.  While he’s unharmed, we’re having swabs done to see if he has any of the offender’s DNA on his body.”  The chances of that were slim, but no avenue would be left unexplored.   “Turner is conducting formal interviews with the three witnesses from last night, and finishing up sketches of the UNSUB with two of them.”

“Any chance this offender will head to Vance’s house to lay low for a while?”  This from Agent Samuels.

Cam resisted the urge to look at his watch.  Gonzalez’s absence from this briefing, after her stated intention to attend was beginning to worry him.  He hoped like hell that whatever had kept her away wasn’t associated with this case.  But he suspected otherwise.  “Polk County Sheriff Jackson has had the house under surveillance since we arrested Vance and got proof he hadn’t been working alone.  If the UNSUB heads there, he’ll be picked up.”  

He wasn’t pinning his hopes on that.  It would be too easy.  And nothing about this case so far had been simple. “But you can head over to Alleman and talk to the townspeople.  Show Rhonda Klaussen’s picture around.  See if you can get a feel for whether she was seen in public, how freely she moved around.”  A thought struck him then.  “Take a copy of the first sketch Turner did of the UNSUB.  May as well see if any of Vance’s neighbors recognize him.”  

In addition to the events of last night, they were still faced with the task of building an airtight case against Vance.  Discovering the true nature of Klaussen’s involvement with Vance was a priority.  And Vance had to have met with the accomplice somewhere.  “Beachum, you’ll work the BOLO tip line.  Robbins, head back to Channing’s place.  Once the crime team is done, I want her condo kept under surveillance.”  Hopefully he’d be able to get the DMPD to take over that duty.  He needed every agent actively working this case.

A startled expression on his face, the younger agent questioned, “You think the offender will go back there?”

“Well the guy does seem to get lonely for his victims,” drawled Beachum, drawing a few laughs.  

The remark brought an answering tightness to Cam’s chest, but he tamped down the emotion.  “That he does.  We got a positive ID on the container by the river that the corpse was kept in.  It’s called a Ziegler Transfer Case, commonly used by funeral homes to transport dead bodies without a casket.”  He turned to the computer on the table next to him and brought up the photos of it.  “It’d also work to keep animals away.”

“Was this body doused with insecticide, too?” Beachum wanted to know.

“We’ll find out when the ME has time to examine the body.”  But if it had been, that would be another clear link to the other six victims they’d found.  Cam brought up another set of pictures.  “The case was mounted on this flat gurney so the UNSUB could move it in and out of the cave more easily.”  The next pictures were of the cave they’d found yards away from the clearing used for the assault.  It was directly below the rocky area the teenagers had watched the man from.  “This chamber is barely wide enough to house the cart, and about eight foot deep.”  He switched to close ups taken of the interior.   “One small bone was discovered near the back of the cave, near the river.  We’ll know soon if it’s animal or human.”   

The next picture showed a stack of stones next to the cave’s entrance.  “We think the UNSUB collected good-sized stones from the area to block the opening from view, and keep out wildlife.  Then he moved them whenever he wanted access.”

“You think he’s used this spot before?  For other victims?”

Agent Samuels had just nailed Cam’s worst fear.  He kept his reply neutral.  “Too soon to tell.  We don’t know enough about this offender to predict what he’s done or might do, outside of immediately seeking medical assistance for his GSW.  Given the fact that this body was embalmed, it might not have even been a victim.  Maybe the guy was practicing.  Maybe he was in between vics and snatched a body for his own twisted perversion.  We have to consider every possibility.  Keep me posted regarding your progress.  Unless something major comes up between now and then, we’ll meet here tomorrow, same time.”

Gathering up his things, he headed toward the door, his earlier agreement with Sophie ringing in his ears.  He needed to see SAC Gonzalez and do what he could to dissuade the woman from Sophie’s plan.  It behooved him to act first before she called the SAC.  He’d already lost the battle of keeping Sophie out of the investigation. Cam was going to do his best to ensure her involvement was limited to consulting from afar.

But his progress down the hallway was halted when he heard his name called from behind him.  Turning, he saw Mark Kohler shuffling toward him.  Cam had never seen the tall lanky cyber crime agent move at any pace above a slow amble.  His mind, in contrast, moved at Mach-1 speed.  “Hope your news is better than the luck you had at the races Saturday.”

The other man reached up to touch the back of his neck, which sported a wince-worthy sunburn acquired, he’d told Cam earlier, at the Newton racetrack the past weekend.  Although Cam wasn’t a race fan, he could easily imagine why it appealed to Kohler.  The cars’ speeds had to rival that of the man’s mind.