fought back tears. Fought for a moment as someone pulled on his shoulder, then dropped the jacket and stepped away, let the EMTs go to work. He knew it was too late. It was too late for them all.
Forty-Seven
T aylor was about to step out into the parking lot when she heard gunshots. She drew her Glock.
“Lieutenant, did you hear that?” Kris squeaked in alarm.
“I did. Go inside the main offices, shut the door behind you.”
Kris disappeared into the hallway. She’d be safe in there, you needed a key card to get through.
Taylor glanced out the front door and saw her two bodyguards standing over a man. Whatever was happening was over, the threat had obviously been neutralized. She holstered her gun and ran outside.
“What happened?” she yelled. “Who is this?”
Wells turned to her, eyes quiet and cold. “Pretty sure he’s one of the copycats. License plate matches. And he went for a gun. I had no choice.”
She looked at the man spread-eagle on his back, his face arranged in a soft smile, eyes forever focused on a sky only he could see. Felt nothing for him.
“Which one was he?”
Rogers tossed her the man’s wallet. “His license says William Reiser. I’d assume he’s the Zodiac copycat out of California.”
“What the hell is he doing here? Making a move on me?”
“We don’t know, ma’am. We saw him coming up the road, then stop for a minute in front of the TBI. Then he came up here, parked and took out his BlackBerry.”
He handed that to her as well. She pushed the home button and the screen came to life. He’d been composing an email, to someone named Troy.
She scrolled down and saw the message he’d been responding to, felt her skin crawl.
Come to Papa.
He was answering a direct communique from Copeland. Wells was right, this was one of the copycats.
“Well done,” she said to him, then grabbed her cell and got Commander Huston on the horn.
Before she could even say hello the commander launched in, fast and loud. “Jackson, what in the hell is going on? We’ve just had a homicide in the parking facilities. That woman you’ve had Detective Ross babysitting was killed a few minutes ago.”
All the breath went out of her in a rush. Oh, God. Colleen.
“How?” she managed to ask.
“We’re figuring all that out now. She left the building and was ambushed. Detective Ross shot and killed her attacker. You need to come down here, now.”
Lincoln killed a suspect. He must be devastated. He’d never taken a life before. All of her people were getting hurt. Taylor took a deep breath.
“Ma’am, I can’t do that just this minute. I need a crime scene tech at Forensic Medical. We’ve had a breach of security, one of the national copycats got into the parking lot of the building. He was taken down by two of Mitchell Price’s men, who I hired to watch my back.”
“Another shooting? Christ almighty, Lieutenant.”
“I know, ma’am.”
“You sit tight there then. I’ll handle things here. Be careful, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She hit End, then called Kris, who answered on the first ring.
“Kris, everything is fine out here. We need a death investigator. I need to leave. Can you arrange things, come out here and make sure nothing is messed with?”
“Yes. But, Lieutenant, shouldn’t you stay-”
“Kris, I have to find Sam. Please. Do this for me.”
“All right.”
She hung up and looked at Wells. “I need to move.”
“Yes, ma’am. What do you want us to do? Come with? There are more of these fools out there, right?”
“Stay here. Call Price and tell him what went down. Give your statement and tell the truth, Wells. You won’t be held accountable, he drew first. When you get clear, call me and we’ll meet back up.”
“Are you sure, ma’am? You’ll be exposed. These killers are getting close, too close for comfort, if you ask me.” He nudged Reiser with his foot.
“Stay, Wells. Give your statement. That’s an order.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And just like that, she was free. Her guards had served their purpose, for the first stage of the game.
Thank you for the setup, Copeland. Couldn’t have planned it better myself.
Forty-Eight
B aldwin’s cell rang as he was leaving his office. He was pleased to see the internal Quantico number, recognized it as Kevin Salt. Baldwin kept walking, answered the phone as he locked his office door.
“Hey, man. You have something for me?”
“I do. And don’t worry, we’ve already gone into overdrive to get this taken care of. Teams have been sent to each house. I’ve brought in some extra computer staff to start running their files. Charlaine’s off to talk to the doctor she told you about. We’ve got everything covered on the national scale, okay?”
Ah, the power of the office. He certainly missed being the one directing the show.
“Okay. How can I argue with that? Shoot.”
“California’s car was rented to a man named William Reiser, we’re assuming he’s the Zodiac copycat. Record is totally clean, he’s run below the radar for years. He’s a computer programmer out in Silicon Valley, got laid off last year. New York’s Son of Sam contestant was Preston Pylant of Long Island-that guy is a nut. He’s got a history of deviant behavior, he might be schizophrenic. He’s got a record, did some time about ten years ago-assault. His file lists a history of mental illness.
“The Boston Strangler’s car was rented by a Richard Cooper. All of the information for him leads back to a Richard Cooper who works for UPS, so there’s the connection. There’s just one problem with him.”
“What’s that?”
“Richard Cooper who works at UPS is at UPS now, in Florida. He’s been on the job all week, there’s no way it’s the same guy.”
“You’re right, the time doesn’t fit. Probably a case of stolen identity. That’s par for the course with Copeland. He probably just secured the guy new papers so he could work the delivery angle.”
“Maybe. But why wouldn’t he do that for all three?”
“It’s possible that he did, and we just haven’t seen it. Can you explore that further?”
“All right. I’ll go the stolen identity route and see who’s been accessing Richard Cooper’s accounts, plus look at the other two. You know, it’s possible that one of the killers is more sophisticated than the others and is covering his tracks better.”
Just what they needed, another smart killer.
“Make sure, either way.”
“All right. There was a double murder in D.C., in the park just off GW Parkway, just short of Reagan National Airport. You know the one I’m talking about?”
“Oh, the LBJ Memorial Grove? Yeah, I know the one. It’s a mecca for gay men to meet up, right?”
“That’s the one. They’ve cleaned it up, got the drugs out, at least the most visible ones, but the public sex is
