Headquarters in Albany. “We just landed,” Lucy told Sean. “I got your message about Weddle. I’m putting you on speaker so Noah can listen. What happened?”
“At first glance, it looked like he was attacked in the shower. But Patrick convinced Dillard to let him observe the on-scene investigation, and he’s been keeping me updated. There were no defensive cuts on his forearms. At one point, he was bound with duct tape to a chair in his bedroom. They have a potential witness. Weddle’s next- door neighbor saw a man and a woman walking away from Weddle’s house Friday evening. The only reason she noticed them was that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. She thought it was tacky.”
“No description?”
“No-it was almost dark. They walked two doors down from Weddle’s and got into a dark truck.”
Noah asked, “Do they have an estimated time of death?”
“The deputy coroner is the same idiot Lucy and I dealt with at the mine. He’s not making any speculations. Patrick said the water messes with the timeline, but Weddle arrived home at six last night; he could have been killed anytime after.”
“What water?” Lucy asked.
“After being tortured, the killers moved Weddle to the shower, where they slit his throat.”
“To destroy evidence,” Lucy said. “If the killers suspect their hair or blood or saliva might have gotten on the victim, the best way to contaminate it would be to drench it in bleach or water.”
“The body looked like it was exsanguinated. There was blood all over the bathroom-ceiling and walls. Some had been washed away by the water. The floor and hall were drenched.”
Sean continued, “Dillard is tied up at Weddle’s house, and Patrick and I are about to head to the prison to talk to Swain.”
Noah said, “Can you send me Dillard’s contact information? I’m going to want to talk to him.”
“Sending it to your phone.”
“Anything on Jimmy Benson?” Lucy asked. “Did they find his body?”
“No word yet,” Sean said. “Weddle’s murder is the big news, but I’ll remind Dillard to call when he hears back from the divers.”
Noah said, “Ask if he pulled Benson’s cell phone records yet.”
“Damn, I should have thought of it.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Noah said, making Sean laugh.
Lucy relaxed. She had hoped that Noah and Sean could become, if not best buddies, at least friendly. Sometimes she felt as though she was walking on eggshells between her boyfriend and her trainer.
“How’s my plane?” Sean asked.
“Still working. Keep me in the loop.”
“You do the same.” Sean hung up.
Noah drove into FBI Headquarters, showed the security guard his credentials, then parked. When they entered the building, they were greeted by ASAC Brian Candela himself.
Candela was in his midforties, with a conservative haircut and impeccable dark gray suit, even though it was Saturday. Lucy felt underdressed in her jeans and thin white sweater, even though she wore a blazer with it. Noah wasn’t in a suit and tie, though he still looked sharp in khakis and a button-down shirt.
“Noah Armstrong?” Candela extended his hand. “Good to finally meet you.”
“Finally?” Noah shook Candela’s hand.
“You’re Noah Armstrong, lieutenant, one of the original Ravens.”
“You did your homework.”
Candela shook his head. “My son is a Raven. Just finished training at Fort Dix. You’re a legend among the recruits.”
Noah laughed. Lucy glanced at him, startled. Had she heard Noah laugh before? She grinned.
“I doubt that, but I did write one of the manuals they’re forced to study.” He introduced Lucy. “Lucy Kincaid, agent-in-training. She’s working with me until she heads to Quantico in August.”
Candela sobered immediately. “Ms. Kincaid, thank you for coming. As I’m sure you know, learning Agent Sheffield is dead has been tough on all of us, even though we didn’t expect to find her alive.” He gestured for them to follow. “Everyone is in the conference room.”
Lucy hesitated. “Mr. Candela, I need to show you something first.” She handed him the photograph of Jon Callahan and the blonde who may in fact be Agent Sheffield.
“Where did you get this?”
“The uncle of Jon Callahan,” she gestured to the man in the picture, “gave it to Sean Rogan, the private investigator. We think the woman he’s with is Agent Sheffield, but since it’s only her in profile, we weren’t certain.”
“Who is this Callahan?”
Noah said, “He’s an attorney in Montreal who lives in Spruce Lake and owns a lot property in and around town. He may have been involved with Paul Swain’s criminal activity, though when I ran him, he came up clean.”
“Have you spoken to him about Victoria?”
“No,” Lucy said. “The situation in Spruce Lake is a bit difficult right now.”
Candela nodded. “I’ll let you tell the entire group. Wait here a second, I’m going to run this to the computer lab and get them started on facial recognition. I’m fairly certain it’s her, but I need to confirm it. Then I can get a warrant to interview Callahan.”
He walked down the hall. Noah said to Lucy, “Why are you nervous?”
She hadn’t realized her nerves were showing. “I haven’t briefed a room of FBI agents before. And the situation is tragic.”
“You’ve held your own many times in far tenser situations. You’re going to do fine.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She hoped he was right.
Candela returned. “We should have a confirmation shortly,” he said. “Follow me, please.” He led them down a long, gray corridor livened up by large posters of the scenic areas in the region.
Lucy had prepared herself for being questioned, but she wasn’t quite prepared for the dozen people sitting around the high-gloss wood table. Some had Starbucks coffee cups, others small Styrofoam cups or water bottles. A young agent sat in the back with an elaborate computer system that would make Sean salivate, and a man and woman stood in the back talking quietly. When Candela stepped in, the woman approached.
Candela said, “This is Elizabeth Hart, our SAC. Ms. Hart, Noah Armstrong and Lucy Kincaid from D.C.”
“Thank you both for coming. This is a highly sensitive situation, as you’re aware, and I’m hoping that you have information that will help us find out what happened to Agent Sheffield.” Hart motioned for Lucy and Noah to sit near the front of the conference room, where a projection screen had been pulled down in front of half a white board.
Lucy couldn’t help but look at the wall of fifty-seven fallen agents on the far side of the room. Every FBI office in the country had the same wall-it didn’t matter where the agent served, anyone who died in the line of duty had his or her picture put on the Wall of Heroes in all fifty-six regional FBI offices, Quantico, and FBI national headquarters.
Would Victoria Sheffield be the next agent to grace the wall? It was a sobering thought.
Hart stood in the back while Candela took charge of the meeting. He introduced everyone to Lucy and Noah, including Supervisory Special Agent Marty Strong, who’d been Sheffield’s boss, and Supervisory Special Agent Dale Martinelli, who’d been the liaison with the joint task force that had taken down Paul Swain six years ago.
Candela said, “Based on what Ms. Kincaid told me yesterday, we believe the body she found in the Kelley Mine was Agent Sheffield. I’ve brought you all up to speed with what I know. Ms. Kincaid, have there been new developments since yesterday afternoon?”
Lucy didn’t expect to be put on the spot so quickly. She said, “We learned only a few minutes before we arrived that the deputy we suspected of being on the take was tortured and murdered in his home.”
Her announcement was met with silence, then three people asked questions simultaneously. Candela cut them off.
“Chris, what’s the situation with local law enforcement in St. Lawrence County?” Candela asked one of the other agents.
