Mindhunters 4 - Deadly Intent (11 page)

Swallowing hard, Cooper sat, but his expression didn’t alter. “The man’s a savage. And the warden won’t do a damn thing about it. I’m in constant danger.” A whine had entered his voice.

There were some who would consider Salvoy’s alleged rapes of Cooper to be the most fitting of endings. The follow-up investigations of the complaints showed inconclusive findings. Hard to tell if Cooper was lying to get a single cell or if the man was truly being assaulted by his cell mate.

Harder yet to care.

“The warden’s a friend. If you give me useful information, I might be able to get you a different cell assignment.”

Cooper watched him distrustfully. “What sort of information?”

“About that kiddie auction you were attending, for starters. I want you to write down all the names of people you expected to be there who weren’t. Names of every single contact from that man-girl love association that you shared photos of Ellie Mulder with.” He caught the flicker in the man’s eyes. “Yeah, we know you were video-streaming some of your times with the girl to other NAMGLA pervs. We seized your computer, remember? I want to know who else you might have shared photos or videos with, in person or through the mail. I’m looking for names you didn’t include in the interviews after your arrest.”

“I included every name I could think of.”

Adam leaned forward, shooting the man a grim smile. “You’d better hope that isn’t true, Cooper. Because if you don’t come up with more names for me . . . names that actually pan out . . . you can just count on spending the next twenty-seven years as Salvoy’s bunk buddy.” He watched the man gray without a flicker of sympathy. “That’s longer than some people are married. Stick with a guy that long and it’s sort of like a marriage, isn’t it?”

Cooper looked past Adam’s shoulder to the armed guard at the door of the room. Then he wet his lips. “Yeah, maybe there were a couple pals that I swapped photos with. Old history, right? Doubt they even still have them.”

“A pedophile who culls his photo library? Yeah, right.” Adam pushed a yellow tablet over to the man and pulled a pen out of his inside suit jacket pocket to lay atop it. “Make it good, Cooper. Search your memory like your future depends on it.”

With a hand that shook slightly, the man picked up the pen, and after a brief hesitation, began to write.

Watching him, Adam had a brief flash of déjà vu. There had been too many men just like this one. All guilty of horrific crimes. Hunting them for so many years had immersed him in a darkness that couldn’t help but cling to him, tingeing everything else in his world.

That darkness had ruined him for doing anything else.

Their footsteps rang hollowly on the nondescript beige scarred tile floor as the prison guard accompanied Adam back to the public waiting area.

“Adam.”

Turning, he saw Warden Joe Landry approaching. A genuine smile breaking out, he switched his cane to his left hand to take the man’s hand with his right. “Joe.” He returned the man’s enthusiastic handshake. “Thought you were tied up in a meeting.”

At the warden’s short nod, the guard fell back a discreet distance as they resumed walking. “Offered the suits prison food and the meeting broke up sooner than expected.” He gave a wink. “Works like a charm every time.”

“I’ll bet.” Landry had been his senior partner in the bureau, on his first assignment to the Baltimore field office. They hadn’t been together more than two years before Adam was handpicked for special training at Quantico’s Behavioral Science unit. The older man had retired early from the FBI over a decade ago but made a point to keep in touch with friends in the agency.

They halted at the first set of heavy automated doors. Landry punched in a code, and they walked through as they swung open.

“Damn shame about that little girl. After you called I did some research to refresh my memory. I recall the Mulder case from a couple years ago now. You finding the girl gave the feds working the investigation something of a black eye.”

Adam lifted a shoulder. He’d never cared much for the politics that came with his time in the bureau, which was only one of the reasons for leaving it. “I knew the lead agent. Tom Shepherd. He seemed grateful for the break.”

Joe tugged on his earlobe. “Grateful? Maybe. But the way I hear it, after the bad press from the trial, he got banished from his DC post and sent to Bismarck. His ‘gratitude’ is probably frozen solid by now. Along with everything else.”

Frowning slightly, Adam mentally sifted through the gossip for a germ of truth. Shepherd had been a good agent when he’d known him in DC. His rise in the ranks of the agency had been impressive. But the investigation of the first kidnapping of Ellie Mulder had been plagued by bad luck. The birthday party she’d been snatched from had been held at one of those playgrounds at a fast-food restaurant during the noon rush. Witness accounts had conflicted. And Cooper had shown rare shrewdness in choosing a child in a different state from his hometown. “Bismarck, huh? Maybe I’ll give him a call.” He just might think of someone or something associated with that first investigation that wasn’t in Adam’s own case file.

Pausing before a second set of automated doors, Landry asked, “Did you get anything useful out of Cooper? And if you did, what’s it going to cost me?”

“He seems disenchanted with his cell mate.”

The man nodded. “There was physical evidence supporting his claims of sexual assaults. Just nothing that points to the perpetrator. We’ve got him under a watch, but a place like this . . .” His mouth formed a thin hard line. “As fast as we put out fires, there’s something else flaring up.”

“I’ll let you know if his information pans out. He gave up some names he’d neglected to mention during the course of his arrest, people he swapped pictures of the Mulder girl with. Hard to tell if it will lead anywhere.”

Landry’s craggy face looked dubious. “These guys trade pics like baseball cards. It’s a needle in a haystack. But you’re going to shake that haystack, aren’t you?”

The doors opened as Adam gave him a quick feral smile. “I’m going to dismantle it, straw by straw.”

“Any results on the stains found in Hubbard’s bathroom yet?”

Whitman looked irritated at Kell’s question. His brown suit was either the same he’d worn yesterday, or its twin. It looked equally rumpled, its creases matching those in his face. “This isn’t Hollywood, Burke. In real life, lab results actually take time.”

Kell looked unruffled at the man’s withering tone. “I guess we have different definitions of expedited.” The man had claimed the priority of the case would ensure faster results from the state lab just yesterday. “If you’d agreed to a mobile lab, we’d already have the results. I’ll bet your lab hasn’t even started running the tests yet.”

Ignoring him, Whitman focused on CBI Agent Travis. “So who did you interview today?”

“Hubbard’s ex-wife and three of his former coworkers at the prison. The warden. Some friends the ex said he spent time with when he lived there. All speak highly of him. Claim he’s an up-front sort.”

Giving a grunt, Whitman said, “We probably need to focus on people he associated with since his move to Denver. You’ll find the list of phone numbers and their owners in the updated case file.” He skidded a green expandable folder across to each of them. “Type up the day’s notes and send them as an attachment to the secretary. Her e-mail is at the top of the folder.”

Macy observed the crestfallen expression on the agent’s face and recalled his dislike for typing.

“What about Hubbard’s bank records? Have you gotten the warrant for them yet?”

“Everything we know is in the file, Burke.” The assistant director was as snappish as she’d seen him. “Familiarize yourself with it and we’ll talk about assignments tomorrow. Now get out of here. Not all of our people are working the case on-site. I’m coordinating input from ten CBI agents and two other law enforcement agencies. I’d like to get to bed before midnight tonight.” He stopped then, his fierce glare encompassing both her and Kell. “Did you hear from Raiker today?”

“No.”

Her answer only turned his expression more dour. He waved them away dismissively. “Mrs. Mulder has arranged for a cook to be on duty around the clock. If you haven’t eaten, find the kitchen.”

At Kell’s insistence, they’d hit a drive-through on the way home, which was largely responsible for the queasiness Macy was feeling now. Still, she’d make a detour to the kitchen, if only to see if there was any fresh fruit. She wasn’t going to be able to exist for long on Burke’s penchant for greasy empty calories.

Outside the door, which Whitman called out for them to close behind them, Kell paused and looked at her. “You going to your room?”

“I’m going to check out the kitchen.” Without waiting for his response, she brushed by him and headed in what she hoped was the right direction. It was only nine P.M. Plenty of time to read through the file when she got back to her room. And she wasn’t even going to pretend not to be relieved at the thought of several uninterrupted hours without Kellan Burke attached to her side.

Balancing the bowl of fruit, her purse, and the file folder Whitman had given her, Macy paused outside her room and readjusted things to free up a few fingers. Managing to turn the knob, she nudged the door open with the toe of her shoe and sidled inside. Only to drop everything in shock when she saw the figure stretched out on her bed.

“Bloody hell!” Reflex had her reaching for the weapon she wore in a shoulder harness.

Kell looked up from the file he was reading, taking in the things strewn on the floor, and then observed, “You need some help there?”

She slapped a hand to her chest and waited for her heart to resume a normal beat. Bending over, she began picking up the fruit that had scattered. “What in God’s name are you doing in here?”

Despite the lack of an invitation, he got up and padded over, stocking-footed, to crouch down to help her. “Lower your voice,” he admonished, handing her an orange. “Travis isn’t
that
far away.”

The fruit safely replaced in the bowl, she grabbed at the other items she’d dropped. Rising, she snatched the purse that he’d picked up for her. “Get. Out. Of. My. Room.” The words were measured. “Now.”

Kell managed to look surprised. “But I have something to show you.”

Her smile was tight at the transparent euphemism. “I’ve seen it, thanks.”

Giving him a wide berth, she deposited the file on the dresser and set the bowl of fruit on the small table next to the Queen Anne’s wingback. Crossing to the closet, she yanked the door open with barely restrained force, slipped off her coat, and hung it up.

“A place for everything, and everything in its place,” he murmured, his tone amused.

“Exactly.” Whirling to face him, she went on caustically, “Except, that is, for you. I’m in no mood for your version of show and tell. Go find someone else to play with.” As soon as she saw the stunned expression on his face, Macy realized her mistake.

“You think I came in for a repeat of our one time together?” he said incredulously. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the thought hasn’t occurred, but we’re working here.”

She could feel the heat firing up her throat, spreading across her cheeks. Even her earlobes burned. The curse of fair skin. Time to beat a fast retreat and salvage what she could of her dignity. “I think you came in to badger me some more, and I’m not in the mood. I have work to do.”