Murder 42 - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries Book 2) (6 page)

12

Sarah had never been on an airplane. The thought of being that high in the air both exhilarated and terrified her. Gio seemed loose and relaxed. As they were driven to the airport by what she guessed was another agent, Gio talked on his cell phone, tying up loose ends. He noticed her watching, hung up, and said, “Sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology.”

“It’s rude. I asked you along and then I’m not even paying attention.”

“You’re paying me two hundred dollars a day. You can not-pay-attention all you want.”

He grinned. “I never knew you cared about the money.”

“It’s nice. I make nine dollars an hour at the bookstore. I’m going to make more here in a week than I make in a month there.”

“You gonna be okay?” he said seriously.

“I think so.”

“This thing you have… I don’t know what it is or what it’s for, Sarah, but I’m willing to bet it wasn’t given to you to work in a bookstore.”

Once at the airport, Sarah had to wait as the flight was cleared. She was told they’d be flying first class and that if she needed, an agent could run to one of the Bureau’s physicians and get a Valium for her to soothe her nerves.

“No, thank you,” she told Gio. “Drugs don’t mix well with me.”

The plane was large. The aisles were huge, and a staircase actually went up to a different level of the plane. The rest of the passengers were behind a thick blue curtain. They even had a separate entrance so that the two groups didn’t mix.

They took their seats up front as the pilot described the flight. It would be a four-and-a-half-hour flight with no stops. Sarah tightened her seat belt and then wondered what they were really for. If the plane went down, what exactly was a seatbelt going to do for her?

The plane lurched forward, and she almost screamed. She slapped her hand over her mouth, and Gio chuckled.

“That’s right,” he said, “you’ve never been on a plane.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. A tube of steel ten thousand feet in the air and pushed forward by engines using highly flammable fuel. What could go wrong?”

He reached over and put his hand gently on hers. “You’re going to be fine.”

Sarah’s stomach fluttered, and she wasn’t certain whether it was the plane moving or Gio’s touch. Outside the window, she saw the maintenance crew back away, and the plane slowly pulled away from the terminal.

Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on good thoughts as the plane looped around the runway and gained speed, pressing her back into the seat, the roar of the engines deafening. And suddenly, the plane lifted into the air. Unbalanced at first, it tilted to the right slightly and then straightened out. She yelped audibly.

The plane rose steadily and finally leveled out. It was exhilarating, and her heart beat faster when she realized she was flying. Peering out over the city, she could see the checkered patterns of farms and ranches, the thick, green forests, and the cities of Virginia and DC. Everything looked so small, so meaningless. While walking through them, the cities seemed like behemoths that could never be toppled. Now, she could see that they were there only by the grace of nature. At any point, nature could reclaim what was hers.

“So?” Gio said. “What do you think?”

“It’s…
amazing
that the human mind could come up with something like this and we could be sitting up in the air.”

“You get used to it, like anything else, I guess. Eventually you won’t even notice it. It’ll be like driving a car.” He paused. “You know, I’m from Arizona.”

“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t been back in a while, have you?”

He shook his head. “Not since after the war. I spent a few months there, and all I could think about was being back in the deserts of Iraq. I felt like I was letting all my friends down. They were over there risking their lives, and I was sitting on my ass.”

She hesitated before asking him her next question, knowing it was painful for him to talk about himself. “How are you doing with everything?”

He shrugged. “Fine. I go to the VA sometimes for the PTSD meetings. The nightmares haven’t stopped, but they haven’t increased either.” He grinned. “So you have a cat now?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m allergic and my eyes and nose are burning. I can smell him on your clothes.”

“Yeah, he’s my new love.”

“Ouch. Replaced by a cat.”

Sarah felt panic rising in waves in her stomach. Then she told herself that there was nothing to fear; that, as Gio said, flying was safer than driving, and she would relax for a few more minutes before the panic would return. Finally, she decided to sleep. The vibrations of the engine and the sound of the wind outside the windows soothed her into a dreamless sleep.

When she woke, all she could see outside the window was endless desert and blue sky. Suddenly, she was happy for the change. And if it was hot, she would be happy for the heat—most of the year in Pennsylvania she had to wear a jacket.

Gio was asleep next to her. On the left side of his neck she could see a nick from shaving. He always did that. He shaved too fast, finding it annoying that he had to do it every day, and would inevitably cut himself.

The captain’s announcement that they would be landing in ten minutes woke Gio. Only when the plane had landed and Sarah rose from her seat did she get a view of the economy seats in the back. The seats were crammed together, people elbow to elbow, and she was grateful they had flown first class. The added stress of being surrounded by strangers might have been too much for her. She wondered if Gio had thought of that and paid extra for first class, or if FBI agents always flew that way.

Once off the plane, they entered the terminal, and a man in a dark suit smiled at them. Gio went up to him, and they shook hands and spoke for a bit. Gio said something and looked at her, and the man nodded and smiled.

“He’ll be giving us a lift,” Gio said.

As they hurried out of the airport, the dense heat struck Sarah like a wall. It was unrelenting, even in the shade. But she enjoyed it. It seeped down into her bones and warmed her from the inside out. As they waited for the other man to pull up the car, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, feeling the sun on her face.

“The air’s just different here,” Gio said. “Like… clean. It doesn’t smell like this in Washington. And the sky is more blue than brown.”

“You miss it here?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But they say you can never go home again.”

“Only people who don’t try to go home say that.”

The car, a black SUV, pulled up and Gio threw their bags in the back. He climbed into the passenger side, and Sarah sat in the backseat. The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“I’m Mike. Nice to meet you.”

“Sarah.”

“Gio tells me you’re a consultant but won’t tell me what kind.” The car pulled away from the terminal and looped around a road to the interstate.

“I guess you could say I have special insight into certain cases.”

“Profiler, huh? Psychologist?”

“Something like that.”

“I had to use a profiler once when that sort of thing was all the rage in the ’90s. Nobody really uses them anymore. Serial killing’s just not as popular, I guess. All the Bureau’s resources go into counterterrorism since 9/11.”

The man continued to talk about life in the Bureau, but Sarah wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glued to the window, watching the landscape outside. The city looked like any other: crowded with billboards that proclaimed one lie after another, but the people and environment were what caught her attention. The people in every city, she’d found, were unique.

“The field office is in Phoenix,” Gio finally said. “But Scottsdale isn’t far. I authorized two cars in case you wanted to drive around by yourself and explore. There are some cool Indian ruins not far from Scottsdale.” He paused and looked out the window. “Phoenix is nice, but there’s some parts you can’t go into by yourself.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“I know you can. But anyone can be caught by surprise. Just, if you don’t mind, let me know where you’re going before you go there. I asked you out here, and I’d feel responsible if something happened.”

The Bureau’s field office in Phoenix didn’t look like much. In fact, though the FBI had their own building, it was in a corporate center along with several other businesses. A large sign read PHOENIX FBI out front, and close to that were tall flagpoles with flags blowing in the wind. The SUV parked out front, and Gio hopped out. He retrieved the bags as Sarah thanked the driver and then waited in front of the building.

“I’ll get our cars, and then we can check in to the hotel. You can come inside with me if you like.”

“No, I’m enjoying the heat. I’ll wait.”

As Gio hurried inside, she sat on her suitcase and watched people rush in and out of the FBI building. They all looked so determined, as though what they were doing at that moment was the most important thing they could be doing. Sarah never, not once, ever felt like that. Each passing moment in life to her was part of a stream that kept flowing. She didn’t want to grab on to any one moment. It would slip through her fingers, and she might not notice the others.

“You need help?”

A man stood near her wearing a gray suit and red tie. He had the sculpted hair of a news anchor and a tanned face, one that she could tell had a real tan, not the fake stuff. Handsome and young, she got that jittery feeling that sometimes came when she met someone she might be interested in.

“No, thanks. I’m waiting for someone. You an agent?”

“I am indeed. At your service.”

She grinned. “Well, if only all FBI agents were so courteous. I’ve meet some real A-holes in my time.”

“Really? Well, on behalf of all agents, I apologize.”

“Thank you,” she said, with a slight bow of her head.

“I’m Stefan.”

“Sarah.”

“Who you waiting for?”

“Gio Adami. He just ran inside.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know Gio. You’re not the consultant he said he was bringing out, are you?”

“That’s me in the flesh.”

“Wow. Not what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

He grinned. “A seventy-year-old man with a serious stick up his ass. Some of these old-timers get cranky after they retire, but they still become consultants.”

“Well, I still might be cranky. I haven’t decided.”

“You know what? I think you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

She smiled just as Gio came back out. He and Stefan shook hands, and Gio gave her a set of keys.

“Silver Mustang in the back parking lot,” he said.

“Wow, Mustang. You feds have come a long way from brown sedans,” she said.

“It’s used for undercover operations. We got it for two weeks. I’ll take the brown sedan.” He looked at Stefan. “You two meet?”

“We did,” Stefan said. “Sarah was just telling me that she might decide to be cranky so as not to disappoint me. I was expecting one of those retirees.”

Gio shook his head. “No, this is something special. I think only Sarah can help with this.” He exhaled, glancing around. “Well, I’m gonna go check in to the hotel, and we’ll be back.”

“Sounds good.”

Sarah rose. “Nice to meet you, Stefan.”

“You, too. Try not to be too cranky. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and you get to work at the FBI without being an FBI employee. Doesn’t get better.”

13

The hotel sat just a mile and a half from the Bureau offices. Sarah and Gio each had their own rooms, though they were adjoining. The first thing Sarah did was collapse on the bed and kick off her boots. The air conditioning was on, but the air wasn’t too chilled. She caught herself dozing off and decided to push through it.

Even now, right before she was going to dig into an investigation—something she’d told herself she wouldn’t do again—she found herself wondering what had brought her here.

After the Blood Dahlia case, things between her and Gio went well for a while. It seemed as though they melded together seamlessly. She pictured marriage and children—something she had wanted since she was a child. And then things turned.

It was subtle at first, a small incongruence between them that turned into arguments about things that didn’t matter. Then it grew to yelling matches, and eventually they began spending longer periods of time apart. It had occurred so gradually that they hadn’t even realized it was over until well after.

The fact that she was here told her they had issues that needed to be resolved. She needed to know why the best relationship she had ever had had fallen apart.

And then she remembered the video. The images she had seen were etched in her mind now… The things people did to inflict pain on others, particularly completely innocent children, continued to surprise her.

She checked the mini-fridge in the hotel room and saw the stacks of small liquors. The temptation was always there, but she had to remind herself she didn’t need booze. It never added anything; it only took away. Instead, she bought a San Pellegrino and popped it, taking a sip as she approached the windows looking down to the parking lot. A knock came from her door, and she answered. Gio stood there, still in his suit.

“You ready?” he said.

“Sure.”

They headed out of the hotel and got into Gio’s sedan. Once they were on the road, Gio turned on a radio station, something pop, and a fifteen-year-old lamented melodically at them about lost love.

“So who is Stefan, exactly?”

“It’s his case. Well, it’s technically Scottsdale PD’s case, but we’re handling it. Haven’t told them yet, but Gillian authorized taking the case. She’s been doing this a long time, and she said this was the most disturbing thing she’d ever seen. That’s why I’m down here personally.” He glanced at her. “You doing okay with it?”

“Are you asking if I’ve gotten any impressions about it?”

“Have you?”

“No, nothing. Other than disgust.”

He hesitated. “You know, when we were together, I began researching this thing you have. Gift, or whatever. You know the Germans used psychics in World War Two to find enemy ships in the Atlantic?”

“I didn’t.”

“It’s just… I don’t know. It’s like my brain doesn’t believe it. But I’ve seen what you can do. It makes me…”

“Feel crazy.”

“Kind of, I guess. Like everything I know is wrong.”

“Maybe everything you know
is
wrong. But maybe everything
I
know is wrong, too. I think the universe is much more complex than anybody thinks it is. Maybe we’re not meant to understand how everything works.”

Once at the FBI building, Gio parked in someone else’s parking space and led her inside. Metal detectors and a police officer stood guard, and he flashed the badge and walked through with her so confidently that the officer didn’t say anything when the metal detectors went off because of her purse.

Stefan’s office wasn’t far from the main entrance, and the number of agents sitting in cubicles surprised Sarah. Many of them had their sleeves rolled up and sweat stains under their arms. She had always had this image of the FBI as the elite of the elite, and to some extent that was true, but it was also true that they were human beings—prone to corruption, degradation, and rage, like everyone else.

Stefan’s office walls were covered with photos, posters, comic strips, and even a neon sign for the Los Angeles Dodgers, while his desk was barely visible underneath the mountains of papers, files and books. Stefan looked up from his computer and smiled.

“Back so soon?”

“Eager to get to work,” Gio said.

Stefan leaned back in his chair. “Well, you’ve got the rank, where do you wanna start? Sir.”

It wasn’t lost on Sarah that the “Sir” came as an afterthought. In some way it seemed almost sarcastic, and she could tell by Gio’s face that he picked up on it, too.

“The video. What’ve the techs found?”

Stefan reached into one of his piles and came up with two sheets of paper stapled together. “Filmed on a cell phone. It looks too stable to me to be a second perp. He probably set it up on something. Date stamped exactly eight months and four days ago. No other information. One of the techs told me they can sometimes get the location the video was filmed at, but that information was removed.”

Gio sat down in one of the chairs and studied the two pages. “I’m interested in this adult store.”

“Me, too. But there’s nothing there. No one will talk.”

Gio tossed the report on the desk. “Well, let’s give them some encouragement.”