Mariah Stewart - Dead End

Or had she? In the dense fog of confusion and pain she’d been trapped in for weeks after Dylan’s death, had someone mentioned this?

Maybe.

She doubted it, but then again, there was much from that time she couldn’t remember. She was hard-pressed to remember Dylan’s funeral, had little recollection of the viewing, and none whatsoever of the graveside services, though certainly she’d been there. Maybe someone had mentioned that Connor originally had been slated for this assignment, and the information had been lost in the midst of her grief. She couldn’t honestly say she hadn’t been told. On the other hand, she couldn’t say she had.

She drummed her fingers on the side of her laptop, trying to determine the importance of this new information.

She dialed Evan’s number and was grateful that he picked up on the second ring. She told him about the e-mail from Connor, then said, “I’m trying to decide how-or if-this changes things.”

“I guess the only way to answer that is to know what else Connor had been involved in back then.”

“You mean, if he’d been involved in something someone might have wanted to kill him for?” She laughed roughly. “That’s every assignment Connor’s ever been on.”

“Look, why not just ask him if there was anything going on back then that sticks in his memory.”

“Even if there was, he wouldn’t be able to tell me.”

“Maybe not, but maybe it’s something he can look into himself. You won’t know if you don’t ask.”

“True. Maybe I’ll just e-mail him…” She opened her laptop and debated on how best to put forth the question.

“Good idea. Bring it all with you this weekend and we’ll toss it around a little more.”

“How’s your case going?”

“Not well.” His voice dropped with something more than disappointment. “In the past week, we’ve had three victims. I was going to call and ask for your opinion on this. Have you ever known a serial killer to target different types the way this guy is? I mean, two distinctly different types of victims? This guy is going back and forth between the pampered and privileged to girls who haven’t even been reported missing a week after we’ve found their bodies. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It is odd. And no, to answer your question, I’ve never heard of a case like this one.” She pondered the facts he’d given her. “Maybe I should take a look at the files while I’m up there this weekend. Can you get me copies of all of them? It will give me something to do while you look over Dylan’s file.”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Something like that.” Annie smiled.

He laughed.

“We’re going to be all right, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“We are all right,” he told her.

He appeared to be about to say something else, but his thoughts were interrupted by a click on the line.

“Hold up, Annie, I have a call coming in.” He put her on hold.

Moments later, he was back.

“I have to go,” he said, and she knew by the tone of his voice he was wanted at a crime scene.

“I’ll see you Friday night, then,” Annie told him. “I’ll be flying up, then I’ll rent a car at the airport.”

“You sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

“You might be tied up. I’ll just go to your place, and you’ll get there when you get there.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said as he hung up. “I love you, Annie.”

“I love you too, Evan.”

Later that night, Annie opened her laptop and checked her e-mail. Amid several from the office, there was one from Connor.

To: AMMccall00913

From: CShields00721

Re: Missing Reports

Forgot to ask-what were the other missing reports?

Annie went in to the living room and opened the file, searching for the note she’d made, then returned to her laptop to respond.

To: CShields00721

From: AMMccall00913

Re: Missing Reports

One was written by SA Melissa Lowery. The other is a diagram of the crime scene drawn by SA Lou Raymond.

Connor’s reply was almost instantaneous.

To: AMMccall00913

From: CShields00721

Re: Missing Reports

Special Agent Raymond killed in car ax almost two years ago. Heard Missy Lowery quit the Bureau but don’t remember when.

Annie stared at the e-mail as it appeared on the screen, and a little chill sneaked up her spine.

Don’t look for something that isn’t there, she reminded herself. People die in car accidents every day. Agents quit the Bureau every day.

She began to type.

To: CShields00721

From: AMMccall00913

Re: Missing Reports

Thanks for the info. BTW, I noticed there’s no reflection in the file that you had been set for this assignment originally-other apparently than the report you wrote, which is missing. Seems odd to me. Just out of curiosity, was this widely known? That you were on this op? And called off at last minute?

– -

To: AMMccall00913

From: CShields00721

Re: Missing Reports

It was no secret that Aidan and I were running this-don’t know who knew that Dylan stepped in for me when I got called out. What are you thinking? That I was intended target?

– -

To: CShields00721

From: AMMccall00913

Re: Missing Reports

Well, it did cross my mind. Can you think of anything you might have been working on back then that could have made you unpopular in the wrong places?

– -

To: AMMccall00913

From: CShields00721

Re: Missing Reports

You’re kidding, right?

– -

To: CShields00721

From: AMMccall00913

Re: Missing Reports

That’s what I thought you’d say. Would you let me know if anything comes to mind, maybe something… odd or strange that happened that made you think twice? Sorry if I sound off-the-wall. I just don’t recall having heard that you were slated for that night. Strange no one else mentioned it.

She hit send, then waited. And waited. But there was no further reply from Connor that night. Nor was there e-mail from him waiting for her in the morning.

She’d touched a nerve, no doubt, and felt a stab of regret. If Connor started to question if the bullets that killed his brother had been intended for him, he’d have one hell of a time forgiving himself.

Then again, knowing Connor, there’d be no question that he’d put his own personal feelings aside to search for the truth.

Annie turned off her computer, content with that knowledge, for now. If the truth had been buried with Dylan, there was no one more likely to help her ferret it out than Connor.

Annie stepped out of her office and began the long walk to the elevator, made longer this afternoon by the heavy files she juggled in both arms. One had come just that morning from a police department in Michigan that had requested a profile on a killer who was targeting homeless men. The other was Dylan’s.

She turned the corner and stopped in her tracks. Thirty feet down the hall, near the conference room, a group of men in dark suits were gathered. All tall, dark haired, well built.

All Shieldses.

Andrew, Brendan, Grady, and Aidan.

From the back, they were nearly identical. Oh, some were a bit taller-Aidan and Grady were a few inches shorter than the other two-but even someone who knew them all as well as she did could have a tough time telling them apart from the back.

From this angle, any one of them could have been Dylan.

She had no idea how long she’d stood there, staring, before Aidan turned and saw her.

“Hey!” he called to her, his mouth curving into a wide smile. “My favorite sister-in-law! I was just on my way to see if you were in your office when I ran into this motley crew.”