Allison Brennan - Stalked

There were photos taken from afar of a kid they presumed was Peter McMahon from the time he was fourteen until he was about twenty. There were some labels to help identify the places, and it fit with what little Sean Rogan had found on the guy. Then nothing until a series of photos printed from a cell phone camera. The quality was poor and they were all taken from a distance.

“This is more recent,” Joe said.

Suzanne assessed the photos. “That’s the Saint Patrick’s Day parade, but I can’t tell what year.”

“I think it was this year-I know this street; that closed storefront he’s standing in front of shut down end of December.”

“Here’s another recent photo of McMahon at a cemetery.” Suzanne frowned. “I don’t recognize this place.”

“Neither do I.”

“McMahon may have been off the grid for a few years, but it looks like he’s been found.”

“Was Todd stalking him? What was his endgame?”

“Hell if I know, I can’t see inside his head. Let’s box this up and take it to the Bureau. Noah and Lucy are on their way and she’s a criminal psychologist. She was instrumental in profiling the Cinderella Strangler, and without her that loony tune would have killed even more people.”

While Joe bagged the two scrapbooks, Suzanne tried Noah. His phone was off-he was probably still on the plane. She then called Sean Rogan.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Just landed at the Executive Airport.”

“You’re here in the city?”

“I know where Peter McMahon is.”

“Tell me.”

Sean hesitated. “I can’t.”

“This is a federal investigation, Rogan. Tell me where he is or you’re obstructing justice.”

“He’s now my client. Detective Charlie Mead retained RCK and I’m his bodyguard. That was the condition on which I got his location. I’m not telling anyone where he is until I have him in my custody.”

“Kip Todd has recent pictures of him. He probably knows where he lives. The FBI is perfectly capable of protecting him.”

Sean hung up.

Charlie Mead had talked to Peter McMahon, aka Gray Manning, and arranged for Sean to meet him at a neutral spot in Brooklyn.

Sean felt exposed, especially in light of the information Suzanne had shared and what Noah had sent to him about Alexis Sanchez. If she and Todd knew where Peter was, why wait to go after him? What was their game? Already Sean was on alert. He’d been trained in personal security, but it wasn’t his primary responsibility at RCK. He didn’t like going on a job with virtually no intel on his client or the people out to get him.

Peter McMahon had disappeared and reinvented himself because he had to, and Sean didn’t blame him. He deserved to be left alone. But if the Todds knew where to find him, he was in immediate danger, especially now that the Todds were on the run.

Sean had no idea why. It bothered him because it was illogical. If the Todds felt law enforcement had mishandled their sister’s case, Sean could see the logic in targeting those involved. But Peter had been nine when the events that tore apart the two families had occurred. There was no connection between the crimes; the only big difference, as far as Sean could see, was that Rachel McMahon’s murder got more attention in the media.

It was nearly eight and Lucy and Noah should be landing at LaGuardia any minute, if they weren’t already on the ground. Lucy would have a theory about it, and hopefully it would help them figure out Kip and Alexis’s next move.

Psychopaths, even if smart, didn’t always think logically. Maybe logically to them, but not to an average person. That Lucy could understand these people sometimes unnerved Sean, but then again there was nothing average about Lucy.

Peter had never been safe. If Suzanne was right, Todd had located him several months ago. Now that the Todds were exposed and the FBI and NYPD were on their tails, they would go directly to their endgame.

Sean spotted Peter walking down 3rd Avenue toward Sean’s rental. Peter was tall, an inch taller than Sean, and too thin. Though Peter was only twenty-four, his hair was dotted with gray.

Sean didn’t like having a car in New York-he wasn’t familiar with the streets, and traffic could be a problem. But he didn’t want to be without transportation. His sole task was to get Peter to safety, then contact Suzanne and Noah. He hadn’t been lying to Suzanne-he’d sworn to Charlie Mead that he could protect Peter, and he wasn’t going to fail either of them.

Peter had picked the meeting spot, but it was only four blocks from his residence and Sean didn’t like that. He had to assume that the Todd siblings knew where Peter lived. Sean had wanted to grab him at his apartment, but Peter was too nervous to give him the address. Sean had researched it while flying back to the city. Once he had Peter’s new name, it was easy to learn everything about him: his residence, his employer, where he liked to shop.

Peter glanced over his shoulder and Sean’s instincts buzzed. He surveyed the area but didn’t see anyone following Peter. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people on the street. This must be Brooklyn’s version of restaurant row.

Sean got out of his car and crossed the street to meet up with Peter.

“Charlie sent me,” he said.

Peter seemed both relieved and apprehensive.

Sean took his elbow and steered him toward his car. “Are you being followed?”

“I didn’t see anyone.”

“But?”

“I felt something.”

Sean didn’t dismiss Peter’s concerns. Lucy had the same sixth sense about being watched, born of violence, and Peter may have developed the same instinct.

“I have a place; I just need to get you there. Do exactly what I say.” Sean handed him a burner phone. “If we get separated for any reason, get to a safe place and call the last dialed number.”

Peter pocketed the phone. He glanced at Sean and said, “Thank-” then stopped. He stared over Sean’s shoulder. “Cami?”

Sean didn’t look; he acted. His job was to protect Peter, not confront the Todds. He pushed Peter into the first storefront. It was a delicatessen and the patrons all stared at Sean when he walked straight through to the back ushering Peter in front of him.

He glanced once over his shoulder and saw a woman walk into the shop and glance around. He hadn’t met Alexis Sanchez, aka Alexis Todd, when he’d visited Quantico the other day, but he had to assume that it was her-the same woman who’d passed herself off to Peter as Cami Jones for over a year.

The staff in the back yelled at Sean, “Get out! We’ll call the police!”

Sean ignored them and continued maneuvering Peter through the kitchen, then the crammed supply room to the back door. He glanced through the security screen before opening it and slipping out with Peter.

“I should talk to her.”

“No,” Sean said.

“There has to be a reason.”

She’s a nut job. “Let’s get you safe. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

Peter hesitated, and Sean grabbed his arm and pulled him along. It was like he was in a daze, unsure what was going on or who to trust.

“Do you trust Charlie?”

“He saved my life.”

“Then trust me.”

Sean didn’t know if both of the Todds were trailing them or if they had spotted him when he got out of the rental car. He couldn’t risk going back to 3rd Avenue, so he asked, “Where’s the closest subway station?”

“Ninety-fifth. It’s only two blocks away.”

“Let’s get moving.

Sean monitored their surroundings, assessing anyone who looked out of place. It was getting darker, which would help them disappear in the streets if necessary. But right now at dusk he felt too exposed.