Danger Close (John Taylor #7) - Chapter 11

“So, how do we go about catching both the thieves and your serial killer?” Whitaker asked as they pulled up to their temporary housing.

Walking in, Taylor dropped his go bag on his cot and turned back to Whitaker, answering her question.

“We start investigating them as two separate things. That’s one of the places where we’ve been making a mistake and why this has dragged out. Now that we aren’t trying to reconcile the crimes together, we should be able to make some headway.”

“Okay, but there’s still only the two of us. We can’t fully investigate both at the same time. Which one do you want to look at first?”

“The murders. One, because the army is still looking into the thefts on their own, since they think everything is linked. Let Chenier look into that on his own for now. I don’t think he’ll make any headway, but I’m not sure we’d make any headway either. That’s because, two, I think someone’s blocking the investigation into the black market ring. They’re into too many systems and they know about things before they happen. Plus, there was the murder of the realtor and the one suspect’s girlfriend. The MO fits the serial killer, but both directly helped the black market ring. Since the killer is using the ring as a smokescreen for his murders, he doesn’t want them getting caught. Which would explain why two of the murders directly benefited the black-market ring.”

“You think the murderer has a position that gives them an inside track on all the investigations?”

“Yes. There are still a lot of people that could cover, since a lot of people have been involved in the investigations to this point. Someone in the MPs, an aide in one of the departments that have been involved, something like that. I don’t know yet, but the thing is, they’ve managed to go overlooked because the only thing anyone has been looking for is the black-market ring. Even we assumed the murders had been caused by either an outside professional or a variety of people from inside the ring, and we looked at every murder for how it connects to the ring, not as a murder in of itself. I want to go back over all the murders to this point, looking at them by themselves, without considering any kind of connection to the black marketers.”

“Is there a chance that it’s someone not on the base? If we’re expanding it to look at the murders over the last three years that match the MO, then the base would have had a lot of turnover. There aren’t many people who would have been stationed here for all three years.”

“Maybe, but I still think it is someone on the base. They had enough access to know what they needed to do to keep their smokescreen in place. It’s possible that it was a civilian, but they’d still have a connection. The base turnover works for us. When we thought they were connected to the ring, how long someone had been stationed here didn’t matter, since different members of the origination could have been arranging it. Looking at it as a single perpetrator lets us narrow down our suspect pool.”

“Assuming you’re correct.”

“Yes, but I think I am. You had the same problems I had, so let’s not start second-guessing ourselves now. If you want, we can put together a list of investigative paths for the black market ring too, and work on both threads at once.”

“I’d prefer that. I want to look at who the corporal and the tech were in contact with prior to their deaths and find out more about this tech and his activities before he left this base, as well as see who else was off base at the time. Killing him off base was a mistake, and I think it could lead us to his killer.”

“Fine, but we do both.”

“Fine. I just …”

Whitaker was interrupted by a knock at the door. Outside the door stood the general’s aide, which wasn’t surprising. They’d left to look into the murder of a member of the general’s command and word of the sheriff’s murder would have reached the base by now. Taylor could only imagine how badly the general wanted an update.

“Let me guess, the general would like to see me in his office?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want me to go with you,” Whitaker said.

“No. He just wants an update and I’d like for us to have a game plan for tomorrow before we call it a night. You’re better at that than me, anyway. We only have four days until the president pulls us, so we need to make as good of use of our time as possible.”

Whitaker gave Taylor a look that let him know she wasn’t done discussing this yet. He knew she wasn’t sold on his idea, but she didn’t want to have that argument in front of the general’s aide. Taylor was happy for an excuse to give her some time on her own. He knew that, if he gave her the time, she’d come around to the same conclusion he had. She was a good investigator, but she liked to have data to back up her theories, not just go on gut instinct like Taylor did. Taylor knew the data was there, because this was the only thing that felt right since they started this whole investigation, but she needed to be the one to find it if she was going to believe it.

The aide escorted Taylor to the administration complex and directly into the general’s office. It was very late and his was the only room with the lights still on. Military bases didn’t really ever go to sleep, but most high-ranked generals and admin personnel worked normal daytime hours. It spoke to how badly the general wanted an update that he waited for them to return instead of just checking in the next morning.

“Sir,” Taylor said, coming to a casual parade rest in front of his desk.

“What the hell is going on out there, Sergeant? First, one of my men, and your only lead, gets murdered off base, and then the sheriff? I know I said you could stir up the hornet’s nest, but this is starting to become a problem. I told you I didn’t want your investigation to impact the efficiency of my command.”

“I understand that, General. I’d apologize, but what this means is we’re closing in on them. The two enlisted men were murdered specifically to keep us from getting too close, but they made a mistake.”

“That’s fine, but I need to get this under control. We have a unit about to transfer out and a new unit transferring in. Tell me what you’re going to do to end this thing.”

This was the one part Taylor was not looking forward to, when he saw the general’s aide. Like he’d told Whitaker, until he had actual evidence to back up his theory, telling Caldwell, the secretary or the general about it would be premature. Although the general had his back so far, Taylor didn’t want interference until he could prove his idea. The more people in the loop the more likely someone would derail things before they could get that proof.

“There are a lot of moving parts, General. We are working on some new ideas, but I think it’s preamtu…”

“I don’t want to hear what you think, Sergeant. I want to know what you’re going to do to fix this. I know your partner is a bureaucrat, but you were an enlisted man once, so I hope you understand that I don’t like to be handled. I want to know what’s going on and I don’t want you to sugarcoat it for me. Now, you say you have some new ideas, tell me about them.”

Taylor sighed. Lying about his plan wouldn’t work. He’d still need the general in his corner until this was done, and lies always had a way of coming to the surface.

“We believe the murders, except for that of Corporal Evans and the missing tech, were not directly connected to the thefts on base. We think that all of the murders in town were committed by one person, who’s been using the black market as a smokescreen to cover up his crimes.”

His reaction was worse than Taylor had hoped. At first, he just stared at Taylor, his face going white then red.

Slamming his fist on the desk the general said, “Are you kidding me? I’m hearing that you’re some kind of crack investigator and you’ve got all these high profile cases under your belt, and then you come at me with this nonsense. How could they not be connected? We’ve already determined that two of the murders off base WERE connected to the on-base thefts. Now you’re saying not only are they not, but you also want to have us take credit for a half dozen more murders on top of that? You were supposed to sort this situation out, not make everything worse. We are not taking responsibility for more bodies.”

“I’m not suggesting the army take responsibility for those bodies yet, but the theory is solid and it’s the only one that matches the evidence. The murder of the two people the army has taken credit for never made sense. We also have evidence that points to one person being behind all of the murders, save one, which we’re confident isn’t connected at all.”

“The bar fight thing?”

Taylor knew the general was keeping tabs on the investigation, but he didn’t realize he’d been following the murders in town that the army hadn’t taken official responsibility for.

“Yes, sir. That one is clearly a one-off, but the rest were almost certainly done by the same person, including the murder of the sheriff.”

“The town’s already up in arms about that. The deputy is threatening to call the justice department and ask for federal intervention to get around ‘army stonewalling.’ This is getting out of hand.”

“I spoke with the president earlier today and she gave us four days to get this cleared up. Our plan now is to change gears and investigate the murders and the thefts independently of each other. Give us a few days to see if we make any progress.”

The general looked at him, considering. Taylor stood silently, waiting to see what the general decided. He couldn’t stop their investigation, but he could make it more difficult. Taylor didn’t tell him that the four-day deadline would end with the base being temporarily mothballed and everyone shipped in different directions. While the general didn’t strike Taylor as someone who panics, news like that had a way of making people feel like they needed to ‘do something,’ even if they didn’t have the experience to know what the right thing to do was. He’d seen it often enough in junior officers when faced with time-critical challenges.

“Fine, I’ll let you do it your way for a few more days, but only if the bodies don’t keep piling up. Any more deaths and your free reign over my base comes to an end, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir, although I’m not sure I can guarantee what the killer will do once we start closing in on him.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind. So how do you plan on tracking this person down?”

“I’m pretty sure our guy is here on base, which means there’ll be a record of when he comes and goes. I might have figured out a way off base without going through the gate once or twice, but over three years? Not a chance. Besides, he’s been relying on no one knowing that there was a killer here, since everyone was looking for connections to the thefts on base or trying their best to deny any connection to the army. So we’ll start there, matching up people leaving and then returning around the time frame of each of the murders. Since we have such a big time span to work from, our pool of people to look for has already been reduced pretty completely. Now, there’s a good chance one person won’t match every single murder, since there are always variables, but we should narrow down our search pool to only a handful. Once we have that, it’s just a matter of time.”

“If your assumption of who committed the murders is correct.”

“Yes, if my theory is correct.”

“Fine. It’s late and I know you and your partner want to get some rest. Get on this first thing in the morning and keep me apprised on the situation.”

The general went back to whatever he’d been doing before Taylor showed up, which was the classic brass way of saying ‘I’m done with you now.’ Civilians might take offense to it, but Taylor had served long enough that it didn’t really bother him. Besides, it was getting really late and the general was probably trying to clear up whatever he’d started working on while waiting for Taylor and Whitaker to get back to base so he could call it a night, too.

Whitaker was already in her cot when Taylor got back. She half stirred when he came in, but once she realized who it was she was immediately back asleep again. On her desk, she already had a list of what she planned on focusing on the next day. Taylor always admired how methodical and organized she was, especially how that affected how she went about investigations.

Since he’d more or less stumbled into this career, he had developed the same habits. Taylor tended to go where the investigation led him, going where it felt right. It was one of the things that made them work so well together. She’d make the lists of who they needed to talk to, avenues they needed to investigate, ticking off each as they cleared it from their list, leaving him free to react as the investigation changed.

Her list seemed pretty thorough and was along the lines of what Taylor was thinking. MPs they needed to talk to, the various logs including patrol scheduled and gate guard logs, and checks on duty assignment rosters for everyone stationed at Fort Chilton continuously for the past three years all made the list. For as much as she still seemed to doubt his idea, she was at least going with it and being thorough.

Taylor left the list on the desk she’d been using and unclipped the gun belt, tossing it into one of the chairs. Taylor had enough of these crap cots fall apart on him over the years to know to lower himself into it, but it was still better than a lot of places he’d slept in the service. It had been a long and spectacularly shitty day and tomorrow wasn’t looking like it was going to be much better, so he would take what he could get. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the rumpled jacket he was using as a pillow.

Taylor had woken in a cold sweat more times than he could count, so at first, he wasn’t alarmed when he jolted upright several hours later. Experience doesn’t keep the jarring transition from deep sleep to fully awake from being any less disorienting, so it was several seconds before he noticed the differences from when he was usually thrown awake after a nightmare.

It had been almost six months since his last nightmare, shortly after the election, so at first he thought it was just disorientation from a long gap of no nightmares. After several seconds, he started noticing things were different than his nightmare. For one, he wasn’t covered in the cold sweat that always accompanied the dreams. He also didn’t feel a racing heartbeat or dry mouth that seemed to always happen.

Taylor was just starting to shake himself, trying to get his brain to kick in when he smelled it. A caustic burning smell of old wood and chemicals like those used by the army in construction that were never fully replaced after they were discovered to be harmful to humans. Taylor looked around the room and noticed a flickering light coming from under the front door.

“Whitaker,” Taylor shouted, throwing his legs over the cot. “Get up.”

He was still wearing his boots, partially an old habit from his days in the service and partially because he’d been too tired to take them off the night before. By the time he got to the door, flames were starting to lick underneath. He knew better than to try and reach for the knob, instead, placing his hand against the door and then snatching it back just as quick.

There were no windows in the small shack, so he couldn’t see outside, but the way the flames were starting to come under and around the frame of the door, Taylor could work out what happened. Someone had thrown an accelerant against the door, setting the front of the shack on fire. Considering the small building only had one entrance, that was bad.

“Whaa…” Whitaker said, slowly coming to.

“Get up. Building’s on fire and the front door’s already starting to burn.”

“What?” She said, snapping out of her sleepy fugue.

“The … building … is … on … fire. Get up!”

Taylor was already clipping his gun to his belt and grabbing hers off her desk as she started moving to get her shoes on. The door was now fully on fire, and the flames were working their way across the front wall. Smoke was starting to fill the small room, forcing Taylor to crouch low to keep from getting lungs full of acrid, and probably toxic, smoke.

“Let’s go,” Taylor said, shoving her gun into her hands and ignoring the rest of their stuff.

“Go where?”

“There was a weak panel over here,” Taylor said, moving the boxes that had been blocking the panel he’d noticed against the back wall when they first arrived.

He was able to move it in and out, but it hadn’t completely separated yet, and probably wasn’t noticeable from the outside of the shack. Laying on his back and placing his hands against the legs of the two cots, which were themselves pushed against the small partitioning wall that divided the front half of the shack from the back half, Taylor kicked out hard against the panel.

He could hear a snapping and cracking sound, but the wood didn’t give way much more than he’d managed just wiggling it with one hand. Taylor smashed his foot into it a second and then a third time. Smoke was starting to fill the room, forcing Whitaker to crouch almost to his level, flat against the floor. He could hear a popping sound that probably meant the computers and desks had started to go up in flames.

“It’s getting close,” Whitaker said, moving up against the back wall.

“I know,” Taylor said with a grunt as he kicked out again.

The panel seemed to jump out slightly as either the nails higher up popped out or the rotting wood snapped. Either way, it was a good sign. Two more kicks popped the panel out more, enough for Whitaker to get through. It was moving back enough with each kick now that Taylor wasn’t able to apply the same force to the upper sections kicking it anymore, and he couldn’t stand up enough to push at it without taking a lung full of smoke.

He could feel the heat of the flames, which had almost reached the cots when he finally looked back. Moving against the wall next to Whitaker, Taylor pushed out the panel as high as he could, enough to make room for Whitaker.

“Go.”

“You can’t fit through here.”

“We don’t have time to argue, just go through the damned hole.”

She looked torn but didn’t argue, wedging herself through the plank, letting out a yelp of pain as one of the large splinters dug into her back near her neck as she forced her way through the broken wood.

Taylor dug his heels in and pushed hard against the wood, trying to push it out enough to allow him through, when he felt the wood pull away from him. He could see Whitaker’s fingers gripping the sides, causing the wood to pull at an angle away from the small opening she went through. With him pushing and her pulling, they managed to break the panel just enough to allow him to push himself through.

He could feel the wood scratching the hell out of him as he forced his way through it, but he finally made it, though he was covered in an inky mixture of sweat and soot from the fire.

They both scrambled away from the building, more than half of which was fully engulfed in flames by this point. Coming around the building, Taylor realized they’d left the keys of the car they’d been assigned inside. It had been parked right up against the front of the building and was already starting to smoke as heat from the burning shack cooked the outer surface. Taylor thought it wouldn’t be long until the entire side of the car was engulfed in flame.

Soldiers and MPs were already starting to show up by the time they made their way around, and he could hear the sirens of the base’s emergency services kicking into action. The men did themselves proud and had the base’s fire engine pumping water less than two minutes later, but the shack was beyond saving by that point. They did manage to keep the car from going up, although all the water they pumped into it might make it unsalvageable still.

“What happened?” The MP Lieutenant they met several nights ago asked, coming up at a run. “How did the fire start?”

“It started on the outside, against the front door. It spread really fast, so I’d guess someone threw some kind of an accelerant on it.”

“What, like a Molotov cocktail?”

“Or just sprayed gas against the door and wall and tossed a match. Do any of you have arson investigation experience?”

“I don’t think so, but the captain took a training course last year that covered it, I think. I sent one of the boys to wake him up.”

“Okay.”

“All of our clothes and stuff is gone,” Whitaker said.

She was in the shorts and light t-shirt she slept in. Taylor had been so tired he’d passed out as he was, which meant he was at least still dressed. Her holster had been clipped around her badge, so she at least had those.

“Could you have someone get Agent Whitaker a set of BDUs?” Taylor asked.

The Lieutenant gave a nod and walked over to a pack of watching soldiers to send one off on the errand. The army never needed volunteers when there were privates to give orders to.

“So was it your serial killer or the black market ring?”

“Either one, although the killer got spooked enough to kill the sheriff, so he would have been paying attention to what we’ve been up to. He might have decided we were getting too close and he needed to do something about it.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to cut our throats like the others.”

“Well, there are two of us, we’re almost always together, and we’re both armed. Just because a guy has an MO doesn’t mean he can’t break it if he needs to.”

“Sure. Still, this is a significant escalation. He’s getting desperate.”

“Yeah, we need to find him, and fast, before things get worse.”