The Killing Place, page 9
It turned out they all got out at five. This office closed at the traditional closing time like clockwork. Stuart thought of his own hours and felt seriously jealous.
The problem was, getting off at five meant that any one of these people could drive up to Flagstaff in time to commit both late-night murders, and return to Phoenix for a few hours of sleep before having to go to work the next day.
“Where did you go for the evenings?”
“Home.”
“Do you live with anyone?”
“I’m divorced.”
“Do you live with anyone?” Stuart tried to control his impatience. Why can’t civilians just answer directly?
“Yes. I live alone.”
Stuart glanced across the room, where Alexa was questioning someone else, and looking equally frustrated.
“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts the past three nights?”
“I went to evening mass at Saint Catherine’s the night before last. I suppose some of the regulars saw me there. And I did shopping. I used an ATM. The cameras would have seen me.”
Stuart groaned inwardly. Another potential suspect that required a long follow up. Going around to the shops and checking their cameras was tiresome work, and he had the feeling that it would show the woman was telling the truth.
Stuart glanced at those employees who remained in the office. None showed signs of nervousness. Well, perhaps a bit, but that was understandable given the circumstances. Mostly they looked bored and irritated.
“Do you personally know anyone in the program?” Stuart asked, his interest in this particular suspect waning.
“No.”
“Have you ever been the victim of a crime?”
“Oh dear, yes. Identity theft. The year before last, someone got a hold of my credit card information and maxed it out. The bank paid me back. They never found the person, though.”
“Any other crimes?”
“No.”
“Do you use illegal drugs?”
“Of course not. And we get regular drug tests.” The woman looked at him like it was a stupid question, and it was, but it was also one they had to ask.
“Do you know anyone who might want to harm participants in the Witness Security Program?” He was asking the questions by rote now.
“Well, I suppose everyone they sent away.”
“I mean do you know anyone personally?”
“No. I don’t mix with those sorts of people.”
“All right, you can go.”
“It’s about time. I’ve been working twice as much these past few days and I don’t like being kept late.”
She stood and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
The woman looked back at him curiously. Something she had said had triggered a thought in Stuart’s head.
“Why are you doing twice the work lately?”
“The other accountant is on vacation.”
Stuart blinked. He’d been interviewing these people for nearly two hours and no one told him one of their colleagues was on vacation?
Although it should have been one of the first questions he had asked. Alexa hadn’t asked it either.
We’re both too damn distracted. By Annette. By Stacy. By each other.
Damn, we need to keep it together.
“What’s his or her name?”
“Geoff Brimhall. He went down to Puerto Vallarta.”
At least that’s what he told you.
“When is he due back?”
“Not for another four days.”
“Do you know what resort he’s staying at?”
“Um, no. Ask Marie, our office manager.”
That had been the first person they had questioned, and the only one they’d gotten through who hadn’t left. She sat to one side, more nervous than the others, watching the proceedings.
Stuart walked over to her. She smiled, the expression fading almost as soon as she made it.
“Do you know the whereabouts of your employee Geoff Brimhall?”
“Why yes, he’s on vacation down in Mexico.”
“Where?”
“A resort in Puerto Vallarta called Costa del Sol. He likes to go kite surfing.”
Kite surfing takes some strength.
“Could you show me his desk, please?”
Marie led him to a cubicle that was identical to all the others, personalized with a few photos as all the employees did. Stuart always felt that pathetic gesture emphasized rather than minimized the sameness of their work environment.
At least they don’t get shot at and punched on a regular basis.
Stuart made a quick survey of the photos. Several showed a healthy man in his early thirties kite surfing or standing on the beach. Another showed him at a slightly younger age with an older couple and a younger woman. The facial resemblance hinted they were his parents and sister.
Strong. Healthy. No sign of a girlfriend or anyone going on vacation with him.
Loner? Frustrated?
“Is he married?” Stuart asked.
“No. Geoff is a good worker but a bit quiet. He keeps himself to himself,” Marie replied, then she quickly added, “But we’ve never had any issues with him. None of the women have complained about harassment or anything like that.”
Stuart turned to her. “Why do you mention harassment?”
Marie looked flustered. “Well, when he first came here a couple of years ago, some of the women liked him. He’s handsome, as you can see. Athletic too. To be honest, I was a bit worried about that. It might have disrupted the office environment. Personal relationships of that nature have no place at work.”
“I see. Did he … encourage any of this interest?”
“No. He was very professional. One or two of the female employees tried to pursue him but he didn’t show any interest. Then the rumor went around that he was gay, but that’s not true either. Once in the break room I saw him using a dating app on his phone. A straight dating app.”
Stuart got on his phone. “So you say he went to the Costa del Sol resort down in Mexico?”
“Yes.”
Stuart looked up the number. If Geoff Brimhall really had gone down to Mexico, a phone trace would take ages, requiring permission from judges in two different countries. They didn’t have the time for that.
He found the number and dialed it.
“Costa del Sol resort,” a young woman with a Mexican accent said in English. “How may I help you?”
“Could you connect me to Geoffrey Brimhall? This is his work calling. It’s urgent.”
Pause. Stuart could hear her tapping on a keyboard. “I’m sorry sir, there’s no one here by that name.”
Stuart had Marie spell out the name.
“I’m sorry. No one here has a reservation under that name.”
Stuart and the office manager traded a look.
“Why would he lie?” Marie asked.
“Because he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be,” Stuart answered. “Any idea where?”
“No. He kept to himself, like I said.”
“Ask around, and tell my partner.” Stuart turned and got on the phone to the FBI. He needed to get a phone trace, and he needed it now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alexa could have punched herself for not asking about any missing employees right off. It should have been the very first thing she asked.
But no, she had been too distracted by Stacy and the drama with Stuart. Not to mention having Drake Logan reach out. Even indirect contact with that man got her all flustered.
She needed to get it together.
But at the moment, there was nothing to do about any of those things. Stuart had requested an urgent phone trace, and while they waited for that Alexa had called the Phoenix P.D. to send a patrol car around to Brimhall’s address to see if he was in. It was on the other side of town and they didn’t have time to go there themselves, not when he might be preparing his next hit. Word came back a quarter of an hour later that he wasn’t home, his car wasn’t in the driveway, and none of his neighbors had seen him for the past three days.
Ever since the start of his vacation. The vacation where he was supposed to go down to Mexico but didn’t.
So where the hell was he? They couldn’t know until they got the trace.
Until then, he was out there, doing whatever he was doing.
Until then, they were stuck here, interrogating all the employees on the off chance that Brimhall wasn’t their man.
And that questioning had come up with nothing. No one had any connections to the deceased or those they had fingered, no one had suddenly come into some money, and no one had a grudge against the system.
At least as far as they could tell.
One thing they did determine was that no one had been fired or left under a cloud in the past seven years since Marie had been office manager. She couldn’t vouch for anything before that. It didn’t matter. Helen Beachy and Jesse Running Wolf were more recent cases.
Most importantly, no one else was taking a “vacation.”
Alexa could feel the sweat trickling down her back, the exhaustion trying to pull her under. Damn it! What was taking the approval of the trace so long?
She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes after the last time she looked.
“Do you know anyone who might want to harm participants in the Witness Security Program?” she asked the portly older gentleman sitting in front of her. Some kind of social worker who consulted the witnesses on how to transition into their new life.
“No. You already asked me that.”
Focus, Alexa. For Christ’s sake.
“Do you use illegal drugs?”
“No. I’ve passed all my drug tests. You can look at the records.”
“OK. You can go.” Alexa turned to the next person on her list, a younger man who handled the databases.
“Mr. Goldstein. Come sit here, please.”
The programmer looked calm as he got up from his cubicle and walked over.
Just as he sat down, Stuart called from across the office.
“We got the trace!”
Alexa leapt out of her seat, and immediately regretted it. The knife wound twinged, and a deep bruise the assailant had given her when he gave her a nasty kidney punch roared with pain.
She gritted her teeth and tried to walk normally across the office, only managing an unsteady stagger.
Stuart’s face registered concern. “You OK?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go.”
“You’re not bleeding again, are you?”
“Come on.”
“All right,” Stuart said, heading for the door and looking at the map on his phone. He made it three steps before he stopped abruptly. “Wait. This is his home address.”
“What?”
“He left his phone at home, unless he was hiding inside when the local P.D. came to check. But then where’s his car?”
Alexa looked over his shoulder. “I’ll call the police and have them break in and check. Looks like he went somewhere without wanting to be traced.”
She pulled out her phone; just at that moment, it rang.
Marshal Hernandez.
“Damn,” she muttered, then answered. “Hello, sir.”
“Hello Deputy Marshal. How are the wounds holding up?”
“Fine, sir.”
“I feel bad about putting you on a case so soon, but we need you on this one.”
“I’m fine, sir,” she said.
“You sure?”
“Yes, sir.” Alexa gave Stuart an angry glance, but he had already moved across the room to speak to the office manager. Had he texted Hernandez with an exaggerated report of her health?
“How is the case progressing? I’m sorry to hear your leads up north didn’t work out.”
“Yes. We’re just downstairs, in the Witness Security Program offices. I’m afraid your initial theory was correct and that we have a leak. We’re currently trying to locate an employee here who went on vacation but didn’t go where he said he was going.”
“Good work, Deputy Marshal. Make all efforts to catch him tonight. He killed two nights in a row and he might be planning to kill again tonight. It feels to me like he’s going through a list.”
“We believe that too, sir.”
“And Deputy Marshal … ” Hernandez hesitated, as if unsure what to say next. Alexa cocked her head. Her boss never sounded unsure of himself. “ … it would be very good if you could solve this tonight.”
“We’ll try our best, sir,” Alexa said, confused as to why he would repeat himself.
“We, um, received a call from the head office in Washington this morning.”
That doesn’t sound good.
“Yes?”
“The program is under review. It seems some people higher up think that the new collaboration is redundant.”
“Redundant? But sir, it was the management of the FBI and U.S. Marshals themselves that suggested the collaboration.”
“I know, but both are large organizations with members who have a wide difference of opinion as to the best way to get the job done. Plus there are members of Congress and other officials who get input.”
“But sir, our batting average … ”
“Is a thousand. I know, and I’m proud of you. It’s just that, given the line of questioning I received, some people in Washington feel that our efforts might better be spent elsewhere.”
“Better spent elsewhere? We’ve been running ragged all over the southwest and into Mexico, hunting down the worst of the worst, and we’ve got them every time! What’s the matter with these people? What else do they want from us?”
Everyone in the office stared at her. Alexa realized she had been shouting. She frowned at them. Most turned away. When Stuart didn’t, she turned her own back.
Stuart. My God, if they cancel the project he’ll return to the East Coast.
Her heart felt like it had just plunged to her feet. She shoved that thought away. There were more important things to think about.
Hernandez went on.
“I understand your frustration, Deputy Marshal, and I certainly share it. A quick resolution of this case would probably go a long way to helping the long-term viability of this collaboration. So I’d better let you get back to it. Best of luck to you and Agent Barrett.”
He hung up. Alexa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, summoning the strength to face the office, her partner, and the whole messed-up case. She might have lost Stacy, and now she might lose Stuart if she hadn’t already, and she might lose the fight against the killers. It was getting to be too much.
Buck up. Get back to work.
She turned, and found Stuart and the Marie the office manager hunched over a computer.
“What do you have?” Alexa said, strolling over to them. She found that if she walked slowly it didn’t hurt so much. She’d save her running for when she really needed to.
“His car is missing,” Stuart said. “I’m thinking he’s using it to get to the next victim. All employee vehicles have to be registered with the U.S. Marshals Service, so I’ve looked up his car and I’m sending a request to the FBI to hook into his GPS and pinpoint his location. It’s just as accurate as pinpointing the phone. A bit more, actually.”
“We don’t have any privacy anymore,” Marie said, shaking her head.
Stuart looked at her. “In the case of your accountant, that’s a good thing.”
“When will we have an answer?” Alexa asked.
“I sent it priority, and the guy on duty owes me some favors. It will only be a few minutes.”
Alexa smiled. Whatever his failings, Stuart Barrett knew his job. Stuart gave her an uncertain smile back.
Alexa stiffened and looked away. Just then, her phone rang. An officer she knew from the Phoenix P.D.
She picked up. “You checked the Brimhall home?”
“Yes. We broke in on the suspicion of a crime in process. No time for a warrant.”
“Did you find the phone?”
“Yep. Sitting on the dining room table. He’s not there. His toiletries are missing, and it looks like some of his clothes are missing too.”
“So he’s gone on a trip, just not to Mexico, and worried that his phone would be traced,” Alexa murmured. Louder, she said, “Thanks. We’ll be in touch if we need more from you.”
“No problem, Deputy Marshal.”
She hung up. Stuart stood a few steps away, staring at his phone the way Stacy looked at hers when waiting for an important text. But the girl had never waited for a text this important. Maybe she should do a ride-along to gain some perspective.
If I ever see her again.
Focus.
“Bingo,” Stuart said. “They got him located just a few blocks away from here in some residential district.”
“Let me see.” She looked at the map on his phone. “High rent area. He’s not affording a place there on a government salary.”
“Marie already checked with the database. None of the witnesses in the program are living there.”
“Maybe it’s the woman’s address?”
“Only one way to find out.”
They took the elevator down, Alexa forcing herself to only walk quickly instead of run, got into Stuart’s car, and sped off into the darkening streets of downtown Phoenix. The tail end of rush hour slowed them, but Alexa didn’t dare turn on the siren. They didn’t want to spook Brimhall.
After an agonizing fifteen minutes, which to Alexa felt more like two hours, they finally made it to the street, a quiet community with wasteful green lawns, flowerbeds, and large houses.
They drove slowly past one of them. Stuart checked his phone.
“See that Honda parked behind the Mercedes? That’s his car. I’ll park just down the way here.”
He pulled the car over half a block away, close enough that they could see the house but far enough away that Brimhall and the other occupants would hopefully not get alerted to their presence. An unmarked car parking on a residential street went unnoticed by normal people, but was an advertisement of danger for the guilty at heart.
“OK. Let’s do it,” Alexa said, opening the door.
Stuart put a hand on her forearm, then quickly pulled it away.
“Let me take the lead on this. You’re in pretty rough shape.”
