Her grip tightened on her phone. She rubbed her eyes and let her fingers find the scar at her temple. She didn’t realize she’d taken too much time responding until Tully said, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
She smiled, told him she would. Then she clicked off just as Racine finished her conversation. She didn’t look happy. She avoided Maggie’s eyes the whole time she came back, glancing at the fire, the ambulances, everywhere—except at Maggie.
“They finally released the information on that breast implant,” she said, still not looking at Maggie. “The manufacturer has privacy rules. Said we needed to contact the surgeon.”
“Was that the manufacturer?”
“No. It was her surgeon. Our Jane Doe was Gloria Dobson, a breast cancer survivor. She’s a mother of three from Concordia, Missouri. She was supposed to be at a sales conference in Baltimore all this week.”
Maggie noticed Racine’s eyes were still preoccupied. She held her jaw like she had something that tasted bad in her mouth. She was trying to keep her tough-guy exterior from revealing that this piece of news didn’t sit well.
“Did you ever notice,” Racine said, “that it’s always women in Dumpsters? Men rarely end up in Dumpsters.”
Maggie stayed quiet when she could have reminded Racine that Gloria Dobson was actually found beside the Dumpster, not inside. It was a detail that didn’t matter when struggling with the brutality of a senseless murder.
“She survived cancer,” Racine continued, “just to end up in a fucking Dumpster.”
CHAPTER 46
Sam noticed him first on the other side of the crime scene tape. When he saw her, his grin—all dimples and white teeth—made her insides flutter like an annoying teenage girl.
What was wrong with her?
She shot a quick glance at Jeffery to see if he’d noticed. Thankfully he was too busy being Jeffery Cole to notice anyone else. Which always seemed a bit odd to Sam. Weren’t investigative reporters supposed to be observant? Ever since they had heard there were people trapped in the church basement Jeffery had been transfixed on the side door he expected them to come out of. They had rescued only one person so far. Jeffery made Sam hold the camera on the door, though she had sneaked a few sweeps of the crowd when he was preoccupied.
He wanted an interview with one of the fire personnel. Every one of them ignored his shouts. When Sam realized Patrick was coming over she wanted to wave him away. She caught his eyes and gave a slow, subtle shake of her head. He stopped in his tracks, his face completely changing as if he’d been caught doing something inappropriate. What was worse—he looked hurt.
It was too late anyway. Jeffery saw him and immediately shot a look back at Sam, with the question he left unsaid,
Before Patrick could turn around, Jeffery hurried over, microphone in one hand, the other hand straightening his tie. Sam knew to follow, though she didn’t want to, her feet almost dragging along. The camera suddenly felt heavy, making her arms ache. She noticed a slight tremor in her fingers.
“Jeffery Cole.” He introduced himself to Patrick. “Can you tell us how everything is going? Any news on the rest of the people trapped inside? Did this fire start like all the others?”
Sam winced. She couldn’t look Patrick in the eyes. For a split second her fingers found the camera’s OFF switch and she almost hit it. But the light would go off and Jeffery would know immediately. He’d just insist she turn it on again. Still, it might give Patrick a chance to escape.
“I’m not with this crew,” Patrick said, standing exactly where he’d stopped. Not retreating but no longer coming forward.
Sam felt his eyes searching her face. She focused on the viewfinder and avoided looking at him even through the camera.
“You’re all dressed up for a fire.” Jeffery’s voice took on a hard edge. “Who exactly are you with? You must have some idea of what’s going on.”
Sam cringed and her back went rigid and straight. She pulled in a deep breath, waiting for Jeffery’s combative persona. Light and dark, up and down—there was no in between for the man. She felt her senses preparing, standing guard. She let her hand slip down and with a sweep of her thumb she cut the live feed.
“I’m on standby,” Patrick said.
Sam saw Patrick go into defensive mode. His jaw went taut. His gloved hands balled up. His stare hardened and went wide, away from her, away from the camera, and away from Jeffery.
“On standby?” Jeffery laughed. “Seriously? You mean like a rent-a-cop? Only a rent-a-fireman? How interesting. Who exactly do you work for?”
“I’m not obliged to answer that. In fact, I need to get back to work.” But he didn’t turn to leave.
“Oh yes, of course, we wouldn’t want to keep you from standing by. So you know nothing about the fires? You’re just sort of here in case they need you?”
Then Jeffery must have realized he would lose his only opportunity, because Sam saw him switch back from antagonist to newscaster. “Certainly you must have heard something. I mean, you are on the inside of the perimeter. What’s the mood? They must be frantic to get those people out. Or do they already know it’s hopeless?”
Sam shifted the weight of the camera and in doing so adjusted her finger until the viewfinder went black. Her thumb found the mute button. The lights stayed on as if nothing had changed.
“I’m not authorized to give you any information.”
“What’s the harm in giving us a general sense of the mood? What it’s like to be behind the scenes?”
“I believe he already said he had nothing to tell you,” a woman’s voice said.
Jeffery’s head snapped to see the woman approaching them.
“Special Agent Maggie O’Dell. So pleased you can join us today.”
Sam moved the camera at his instinctive wave, but kept her finger in place. She was going to be in such trouble. Already her mind scrambled for an explanation. She had managed to get footage while sliding down a wall of mud during a hurricane. There would be no believable explanation for this blackout. And unless Jeffery heard the thumping of her heart, he seemed totally unaware of her secret.
“Mr. Murphy’s not authorized to give you a statement.”
In the back of her mind, Sam’s inner voice prayed,
“I was just leaving,” Patrick said. He looked over at her before turning and Sam saw Jeffery notice. If there was any doubt that he recognized they knew each other, his smile wiped that doubt away.
“So Agent O’Dell, perhaps you can tell us what’s going on? Are there any fatalities? We’ve been waiting for some word to let our viewers know if everyone in that basement is okay.”
“I have no idea.” And she started to turn to follow Patrick.
“Maybe you’d like to comment on the profile piece we aired about you last night.”
Sam could see the agent’s shoulders push back, but she continued to leave. Sam hoped O’Dell wouldn’t unleash her anger. Sam would never be able to compensate for not getting it on film. Jeffery would certainly fire her.
And now Jeffery, ever the performer, turned so the camera captured a better angle of him before he delivered his blow. “Perhaps you’ll offer some comment after the interview tonight with your mother.”
O’Dell stopped this time. “Excuse me?”
CHAPTER 47
The last time Maggie sat in Dr. James Kernan’s office she had been even more on edge. Her world had been turned upside down by a serial killer named Albert Stucky. Several years before, he’d gotten away, leaving her cut
