Diane Burke - Hidden in Plain View

THREE

“There’s been another murder.”

Apprehension straightened Sam’s spine. “Another murder? Who? When?”

“Not here. Follow me.” Captain Rogers, Joe and Sam strode briskly to the conference room and took their seats. The tension in the room was almost palpable.

Sam stole a moment to study his superior’s face. The past seven days had made their mark. He noted his captain’s furrowed brow, the lines of strain etched on each side of his mouth, but what caught his attention the most was the bone-weary fatigue he saw in his eyes. The political pressure to find a quick solution to a complicated, ever-worsening scenario was taking its toll.

The captain folded his hands on the table. “There’s no sugarcoating this, so I’m just going to say it. Around 2:00 a.m. last night, Steven Miller was murdered.”

“Steven Miller?” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Isn’t that the name of the second diamond-heist robber?” He threw a hurried glance at both men. “Didn’t we have him in custody?”

“Yep. Same guy.” Joe’s expression was grim. “We had him under armed guard in a secluded room in a medical center in the Bronx.”

“Special Agent Lopez called me first thing this morning.” Captain Rogers wiped a hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. “The man was suffocated with one of his own pillows.”

“How could something like this happen? He was under armed guard. Did they at least catch the guy?”

“No. He did it on the graveyard shift, when there would be fewer people roaming the halls or in attendance. Once Miller’s heart stopped, the monitors went off at the nurse’s station. By the time the nurse and crash cart personnel arrived at the room, he had disappeared.”

“Any leads? Witnesses?” Sam tried to calm his racing thoughts. This shooter had walked into a hospital and murdered a man in police custody. The degree of difficulty to keep Sarah safe just rose several more notches.

“We believe it was the ring leader of the group,” Rogers said. “The same guy we’re expecting to show up here. We figure he left here right after the schoolhouse shootings and returned to New York. He spent the week tracking down the whereabouts of his partner in crime, did his surveillance of the medical center and set a plan in motion. He’s never left anyone alive who could identify him. He wasn’t about to leave one of his team in the hands of the enemy.”

“I don’t believe this guy.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. He could feel his blood throb in a rapid beat on each side of his temple. “You’re telling me that he just walked up to a guarded room, slipped inside, killed our witness and left? Why didn’t our guards stop him? What did they have to say when they were questioned?”

“Nothing.” Joe’s expression grew grimmer. “The perp slit the guard’s throat. Nobody knows whether it was coming or going, so we’re not sure if that’s how he gained access or how he covered his tracks when he left. But we think it was on the way out, because a nurse reported that she had stopped and asked the police officer if he’d like a cup of coffee only moments before. She’d just sat down at her desk when the monitor alarm went off.”

“What about the surveillance cameras?” The throbbing in Sam’s temples became a full-blown headache. He closed his eyes for a second or two and rubbed his fingers on the tender spots beside his eyes before locking his gaze on Rogers. “We’re not chasing a shadow. He’s a flesh-and-blood man just like the rest of us. Somebody had to see something.”

Captain Rogers frowned. “Lopez identified someone he believes is the perp on the tapes. The suspect shows up in multiple camera shots and hides his face every time. Lopez sent the digital images to the FBI labs for further enhancement.”

“How did he get into the room in the first place?” Sam shot a glance between his partner and Captain Rogers. “We discussed his security plan with Lopez before he left. It seemed solid.”

“It was solid.” Rogers sighed heavily. “There was a police presence visible at the elevator banks, both in the lobby and the floor in question. There was an officer at the door of the patient’s room as well. Matter of fact, Lopez had created a dummy room with an armed guard, so it wouldn’t be easy for someone off the street to easily identify the actual location of our prisoner.”

“Yeah, I thought that part of the plan was brilliant myself,” Joe said. “I guess the dog we’re chasing is smart, too.”

“I don’t get it.” Sam was finding it difficult to process this new information. When he spoke again, he addressed his captain.

“Lopez told me he had a dual checkpoint in place. Every person entering that room would have had to be cleared—not just the doctors and nurses, but housekeeping and

dietary would have had to follow the same protocol. They had to be wearing a photo identification badge, and as a fail-safe that photo ID had to match the image in the guard’s laptop.

“Even if this guy did manage to create a fake badge, are you telling me that he was able to hack into the hospital personnel files and upload his picture so he’d pass the guard’s scrutiny?”

A slow, steady burn formed in his gut and spread through his body. Sam leaned back and threw his arms in the air. “If the guy is that good, we need him running the FBI, not running from it.”

“He found a loophole,” Captain Rogers said.

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Ya think?”

Rogers ignored the sarcasm.

“Lopez set up a failsafe plan for hospital personnel. He even went one step further and insured that the same police personnel rotated shifts on the door so anyone would question a stranger in uniform, and the officers would recognize their replacements. The guard would also log the time in and out of the room for each visitor.”

Sam leaned forward, waiting for more.

“What Lopez didn’t consider was that the culprit would create a fake FBI identity. There wasn’t anything on the laptop for FBI because Lopez intended to be the only one accessing the room. Unfortunately, he failed to make sure the guards knew it. That’s how we figure he got past the guard. He pretended to be one of Lopez’s own.”

“I told you,” Joe said. “The guy’s smart.”

Sam jumped to his feet. “Sarah...”

Captain Rogers waved Sam back down.

“Sit down, King. We’re taking care of it.”

“We need to move her to another floor ASAP,” Sam urged.

“I already talked with her doctor,” Joe said. “She’s stable enough to be moved out of ICU, so they are making arrangements for a private room as we speak.”

“Our men will be handling security on the door—not FBI, not hospital security guards—us.” Rogers glared at both of them. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, is going to happen to that woman on our watch. Understood?”

Sam’s heart started to beat a normal rhythm for the first time since he’d heard of Steven Miller’s murder. He didn’t know how this guy could keep slipping through traps, avoiding surveillance cameras and sidestepping witnesses, but it didn’t matter. No matter what it took, Sam wasn’t going to let the jerk anywhere near Sarah or any of the people who loved her.

With renewed determination, he shoved back from the table and stood. “Captain, with all due respect, don’t you think we’ve talked enough? The ball is in our court now. We’d better get busy setting things in motion. The FBI botched this one, but we can’t afford to. If he shows up here, I intend to make sure he’s sorry he didn’t stay in New York—deadly sorry.”

“King.” The censoring tone in his superior’s voice cemented his feet to the floor. “Your Amish background gives you a leg up over my other officers. I picked you because I believe you can deal with the nuances of this case the best. But for that same reason, you need to be careful. You can’t let your emotions color your judgment and jeopardize this case. Everything by the book. Got it?”