“We don’t have a holding cell. We have a room we use when we need to keep someone for a very limited time, but we aren’t set up to keep a murder suspect. I’m sure they’re going to go for bail, and that’s going to take a while. I’d feel better if Mickey was in a secure place.”
“Is Hal going to stay in Cameron?”
“No need to. Rich Meyer can handle the situation. Right now, Hal’s over talking to Christina.”
“I imagine she’ll have plenty to say.”
“She always does.”
“Did you tell Vanessa?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled loudly. “She had plenty to say, too.”
“Guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
“I shouldn’t be too much longer here. I expect to be back within the hour.” He paused, then said, “By the way, when was the last time you ate?”
“Last night. The break-in interrupted what had promised to be a great dinner.”
“If you can hold off until I get back there, I’ll buy.”
“You’re on,” she told him. “I’ll be here.”
Mia drained the last of the soda from the can, then took it into the kitchen and dropped it in the recycling bin. She poked around the snack tray, one of those cardboard displays that offered snacks on the honor system, and passed over the candy bars for a bag of peanuts. She searched her pockets for coins, came up with a dollar, which she fed into the slot. Once the dollar was in, there was no getting change, so she grabbed a bag of chips and took both back into the conference room. She’d just rounded the corner when Garland called her name.
“Duncan’s on the phone. He said he needed to talk to you or the chief right away,” he told her.
“Which line?”
“Two. But the connection is poor. I don’t know what it is with these cell phones this week…”
“Duncan? Mia Shields here. Where are you? The chief’s been looking for you all day.”
“He told me to check out all the abandoned buildings in St. Dennis, so that’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Why didn’t you call in sooner?”
“The reception over on this side of town isn’t too good.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m in the basement of the old bank building over on Locust,” he told her. “I think I’ve found the place where…”
The voice faded out.
“What? You found what? Duncan?”
“I said, I think…” The line went dead.
“Damn it.” She muttered as she swung her bag over her shoulder and hurried down the hall.
“Garland, do you know where there’s an old bank building? I think he said Locust Street?”
“Oh, Locust Lane, sure.” He nodded. “Right on Charles for a block, left onto Locust for two. It’s a red brick building, only property on that corner. Is that where Duncan was calling from?”
“Yes. He found something, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I’m going to run over there and see what’s what.”
“You want some backup?”
She looked around. “What backup? There’s no one else to go. I think he might have found the place where Mickey had been keeping his victims. If that’s the case, I’ll call the techs in from the other scene and have them start processing it.
She left the building and got into her car. She arrived at the old bank in less than three minutes. Duncan’s patrol car was parked across the street. Mia parked behind the cruiser, then got out of her SUV and stood on the sidewalk and looked around. The house on the opposite corner had a for sale sign on its over-grown lawn. Across the street was a park with the frame of a swing set but no swings. This must be one of the areas Beck was talking about when he said there were neighborhoods prime for renovation, she thought.
She crossed the street, assessing the old bank. At one time, it must have been an imposing structure. Even now, with the front windows boarded up, it was handsome, all brick with white pillars and faded black shutters. She walked up the front steps and tried the door, which was securely locked. She came back down the steps and followed a path worn into the grass that wound around to the back of the building, trying each door she came upon. As she searched for an opening, she dialed Beck’s phone, but the call failed. She tried again, but met with failure each time. Damn dead zones. Finally, she gave up and dropped the phone into her jeans pocket. As she rounded the back of the building, she found a door that stood ajar. She pushed it open, and went inside.
The door opened onto a landing, with steps going straight up, and steps to the left going down. She hesitated, listening for some sound, but the building was silent. He’d told her he was in the basement, so she took the steps leading down.
“Duncan?” she called out. “Duncan?”
The windows alongside of the building shed some bit of light in the room directly at the bottom of the steps, but the long hallway that stretched ahead of her grew darker as it fed into the heart of the building. She waited until her eyes adjusted, then followed the hall, her hand opening her bag and closing on her Sig.
Well, this is certainly creepy, she thought and wondered for a moment if she should have had backup.
I’m the backup, she chided herself. There was no one else. And the suspect is in custody. Jesus, if you can’t handle being in a dark building after nine years in the FBI, you should probably be selling real estate.
“Duncan?”
She ducked as something white flew at her, causing her heart to all but leap from her chest.
“Pigeons,” she grimaced as it flapped past her. “I really don’t like pigeons…”
Up ahead, at the end of the hall, was a closed door. A hint of light bled out from underneath, and she headed for it.
“Duncan?” she called as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
Hands grabbed her from behind and a voice whispered something unintelligible in her ear.
Searing pain, hot and white and sharp as a bolt of lightening, punched her squarely in the back between her shoulders. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Duncan’s body stretched out before her on a bed covered with a bloody sheet.
26
Mia forced her eyes open, then squinted against the blaze of light that blinded her from every direction. She twisted and tried to turn over, but found she could not move. It took several minutes for her foggy brain to figure out that she was flat on her back on a narrow bed against a wall in a small yellow room. Her mind felt like mush. She tried to raise her hands but could not move her arms, tried to pull her legs up but they, too, remained motionless.
Good Lord. Duncan. Had she really seen him…?
“Duncan…” she whispered.
“Ah, there you are. Welcome back.”
A man sat just a few feet from the side of the bed, but with the harsh light in her eyes, she could not make out his face.
“Duncan…” she repeated.
“Duncan had to go,” the man told her. “He got in the way.”
Her brain was still fogged from the charge she’d taken from the Taser. She wet her lips and attempted to sit up again. She struggled against the leather straps that bound her ankles and wrists to the metal bed frame.
“Feeling vulnerable, Agent Shields?” He leaned in close and traced a finger from her neck to her navel, and that was when she realized to her horror that she’d been stripped naked.
“I’ve had my eyes on you from the day you arrived in St. Dennis.” His mouth was close to her ear. “And now I have you.”
“Todd?” She blinked, still trying to focus.
“Ah, you remember me.” He pulled back from her. “I’m flattered.”
“Lisa’s husband…”
“Make that, the grieving widower.”
“You killed her? How could you have done that?”
“How could I not? After you came up with that profile the other night, she was watching me, I know she was.” He pulled his metal folding chair closer. “It fit me like a glove. I’m surprised no one else realized it. Trauma at an early age…my parents died in a car accident when I was three, did she tell you that?”