Powell agent as well as every agent’s wife, mother, sister, daughter, and niece could be at risk. How the hell can we narrow down the choices when we have no idea what criteria he’s using to make his decisions?”
“We can’t,” Derek said. “My educated guess is that he is following a specific plan and that he probably won’t deviate from it. He’s too methodical, too precise, as if he has a blueprint that leads him step by step.”
“The way a copycat killer would mimic the original killer’s MO,” Griff said.
Derek’s gaze met Griff’s and he understood that Griff and the others knew something that he and Maleah did not.
“Are you saying you think we’re dealing with a copycat killer?” Maleah asked.
“I believe it is a good possibility.” Griff picked up two file folders and handed them to Sanders. “Later, I want you both to read over this information.” He motioned to Sanders to distribute the folders, which he quickly did.
Derek glanced at the typed heading on the folder.
The name sounded vaguely familiar.
“Who’s Jerome Browning?” Maleah asked.
“He is a convicted serial killer serving half a dozen consecutive life terms at the Georgia State Prison.” Griff made direct eye contact with Maleah before he continued. “Browning became known as the Carver when he viciously murdered nine people by slitting their throats and carving triangular pieces of flesh from their upper arms and thighs. His first kill was twelve years ago and his killing spree lasted less than three years before he was caught, tried and convicted.”
The way everyone else in the room seemed focused on Maleah piqued Derek’s curiosity. He sensed that Griff was on the verge of revealing information that would in some way personally affect her. His protective instincts kicked in automatically, urging him to place himself between Maleah and whatever might harm her.
“I’m getting the distinct impression that I’m not going to like whatever else you have to say.” Maleah glanced around the room, taking note of how everyone was staring directly at her.
“Maleah, I’m so sorry . . .” Nic’s voice trailed off.
“Jerome Browning’s third victim was a young man living and working in the Atlanta area,” Griff said. “His name was Noah Laborde.”
Maleah gasped, the sound sharp and highly exaggerated in the hushed stillness. “He killed Noah?” She spoke the man’s name softly . . . sadly.
“Who was Noah Laborde?” Derek asked.
Nic walked over to Maleah and draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Maleah looked at Derek. “Noah was my college boyfriend. We . . . we were almost engaged. We broke up right after graduation. His sister called me a year later to tell me that Noah had been killed, but I . . . Oh, God, I never knew the details. I never asked.”
Of all the killers this person could have chosen to imitate, why had he picked the man who had murdered Maleah’s former boyfriend?
The answer was obvious, of course—because of the Powell Agency connection.
“So what do you think, Derek?” Griff asked.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Derek knew exactly what Griff was asking. “Our killer chose this man Browning because he had killed Noah Laborde, Maleah’s former boyfriend. Maleah is a Powell agent and therefore connected to the agency. He handpicked the Carver as the killer he would imitate for the same reason he has chosen his victims.”
“Because they are all, in one way or another, connected to the Powell Agency.” Griff pummeled the desktop with his huge fist. “God damn son of a bitch.”
“I can only surmise that his real target is the Powell Agency.” When Derek’s gaze met Griff’s, he saw the pain in his employer’s eyes. “I would assume that means his target is either you, Griff, or you, Nicole.” He glanced at Nic. “Or possibly both of you.”
“It’s not Nic. I’m his real target,” Griff said. “He’s striking out at me through my people.”
“That’s one possible scenario,” Derek agreed.
“I could be his target,” Nic said. “He could be someone from my past, someone connected to one of my cases when I was a federal agent. After all, he has chosen to copy a killer who has a direct connection to my best friend.”
“We can debate this all day and still won’t know for sure,” Maleah told them. “Once we find out who the killer is, we’ll have the answers to all the whys, won’t we? That has to be our first order of business—identifying our killer.”
“Maleah’s right,” Derek said. “Since it seems obvious that the new Carver murders are copycat killings, that means we need to start with some basic questions. Is our guy someone who has been in contact with Jerome Browning, maybe visited him in prison? Is he an admirer? A student of the Carver’s methods? Is he perhaps even a protege of Browning’s?”
“There is one person, other than the killer himself, who may be able to answer those questions,” Maleah said.
“Jerome Browning.” Derek’s voice filled the quiet room. All eyes turned to him.
“Browning is the reason y’all decided to pair me with Derek on this case.” Maleah stared right at Nic.
Nic simply stared back at Maleah.
“I think it’s obvious that our killer wants you involved,” Griff said.
Maleah gave Griff her undivided attention. “You think because of my connection to Noah, Browning’s third victim, the copycat is sending me an invitation to become personally involved.”
Griff nodded. “Don’t you agree, Derek?”
Reluctantly, Derek replied, “Yes, I agree. And it could be that by singling out Maleah this way, it’s the copycat killer’s way of getting as close to Nic as he possibly can without actually involving her. At least not yet.”
“See, I told you that this could be all about me and not you.” Nic glared at her husband.
Griff frowned, but didn’t verbally acknowledge Nic’s comment. Instead he spoke directly to Maleah. “Someone will have to interview Browning. Since the killer chose a specific connection between you and the killer he is imitating, it would seem logical that you should be the agent I send to Georgia to talk to Browning.”
“I’ll accompany her, of course.” No way in hell was Derek going to let Maleah confront Browning alone. She might project a tough as nails image, but he knew just how vulnerable she really was.
“Of course,” Griff agreed. “We’ll want you to study Browning while Maleah interviews him.”
“She needs to know the rest.” Nic glared at her husband. “No secrets. If Maleah is going into this, she needs to go into it armed with all the facts.”
Derek’s gut tightened.
Griff nodded. He stood, reached down behind his desk and lifted a small thermal cooler from the floor.
“We received a package sent via FedEx this morning,” Griff said. “There was a small plastic case inside an Arctic foil insulated package, the type used to ship perishables such as food and medical supplies.”
Griff flipped back the lid on the cooler, reached down inside and lifted out the plastic case. “The package was addressed to you, Maleah, in care of the Powell Agency. The sender was, supposedly, Winston Corbett.”
Derek sensed that Maleah was holding her breath as Griff removed the top from the plastic case. He inched in closer, placing himself directly behind her. Looking over her shoulder, he had a perfect view of the sectioned interior of the case and the first layer of its contents.
“Are those . . . ?” Maleah swallowed hard. “Are those what I think they are?”
“We’ve had our lab verify that those small triangular objects are human flesh,” Griff said. “I think we can be relatively certain that the pieces in the top section were cut from Winston Corbett’s body and those in the other three sections belong to the other victims.”
“And he sent them to me.” Maleah balled her hands into fists and pressed her fists against her upper thighs.
Derek reached out and clamped his hand over Maleah’s tense shoulder, conveying his support. “We’re in this together, Blondie. You and me. From here to the bitter end.”
