Blackwaters: A Kate Reid Novel (The Kate Reid Series Book 4) (12 page)

Why it mattered when Kate returned seemed an unnecessary concern anyway. Of course, her safe return was always a concern, but meaning that he had no intention of telling her what happened with Georgia. The primary reason was timing. Unloading this information would only burden Kate more and given that she was about to face an anniversary that no one would celebrate, it seemed almost cruel. Moreover, Georgia still worked in this office and while bad news always traveled fast within these walls, destroying her reputation was not something Nick had wanted. He couldn’t expose her misdeeds. He couldn’t humiliate her the way she humiliated him.

Exasperated, Nick knew he needed to shake out of this. What he needed was to work on Blackwater. Finally, he pushed up from his thick leather chair, deciding that something had to be done. ASAC Campbell couldn’t keep him behind his desk. He’d dry up and wither away if it continued, or drink himself to death—neither was a good option.

Nick marched out of his office and down the hall, catching a glimpse of Dwight, but refusing to stop. Instead, he pushed open ASAC Campbell’s door without so much as a knock. It was clear he’d taken Campbell by surprise when he noticed the man nearly jump out of his seat at the disruption.

“Scarborough, have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I’m sorry, but I need to talk to you. I need to be operating on the Blackwater investigation. You’re jeopardizing its success by leaving me out of the loop.”

Campbell laced his fingers together. “Are you telling me you don’t have confidence in your team, Scarborough? That you don’t believe Agent Jameson is capable of handling it?”

“Of course he is. But I’ve got more experience with these types of investigations and you damn well know that. No disrespect to Jameson, but you need me on this case and I can tell you that my team would stand behind me on this.”

“So if I call Jameson in here right now, he’d back you up?”

“One hundred percent.” Although stern in his reply, Nick momentarily second-guessed himself.

Campbell seemed to consider Nick’s demand, making no mistake that this was merely a request, and that alone appeared to agitate the man. “As I said before, Nick. You’re welcome to participate in Blackwater if needed as an advisor. It seems to me that Jameson has everything under control. He sent your protégé out on her own without any qualms whatsoever.”

Nick closed Campbell’s door and moved toward his desk, placing his hands on its edge. “You want me to apologize for going over your head. Is that it?”

“You don’t think I deserve an apology?” Campbell seemed to view the question as a personal affront. “How would you feel if one of your subordinates took it upon himself to go directly to me on a situation? Would you not feel the least bit slighted?”

And there it was—the reason behind all of Nick’s troubles.

“Do you think I haven’t
earned
my position here, Agent Scarborough? Do you think I haven’t been in the goddam trenches for years until it was finally my time to be recognized for
my
hard work, putting
my
life on the line as so many of us do?” His face began to soften. “I understand that you feel responsible for what happened to Agent Reid. The loss of her friend, the loss of her fiancé. And I admire that, I do, but you crossed a line.”

Nick softened his own stance, taking a seat in reply. “I did cross a line; you’re right about that. And I honestly can’t tell you why I did what I did. Maybe it was so I could keep Agent Reid under my wing—keep her safe. Maybe I needed her here because I saw the potential in her and I knew—I know what she is capable of accomplishing and I was in awe of her abilities.”

“She’s a lot like you, Scarborough.”

Nick nodded in reply. “I know. Probably better than me—given time and proper training. But you’re right. It was your call and I should have made my recommendation and left it at that. For that, I am sorry. I screwed up. But you know as well as I do that this Blackwater investigation won’t be a walk in the park. We’re dealing with a psychopath who carves his victims like goddam pumpkins at Halloween. It’s only a matter of time before this blows up and while I believe my team is more than capable, I have the expertise to guide them. That’s why I’m the senior resident agent.” Nick took in a deep breath. “Sir—please. I need to help them. We make a good team for a reason.”

Campbell looked through his window in silence, appearing to craft a response. He soon returned his attention to Nick. “I’ll tell you one thing, Scarborough. If and when it’s your time to occupy my shoes, I only hope one of your agents doesn’t try to undermine you.”

Nick cast his gaze down, sullied by his own behavior, however well-intentioned it had been.

“You can inform your team that you’ll be working on Blackwater with them. I’m not sure Jameson will be completely happy with this, but if he’s got your back, then I guess you don’t need to worry about that. Goodbye, Agent Scarborough.”

TWELVE

T
he weather had
promised a deluge and it now delivered. Kate and Deputy Burgess had arrived at Saint Marys Cove only a short time ago and were already on their way upstream to the site where Sydney Hawthorne’s body was discovered.

Within minutes, the ground sloshed under their feet. This was, after all, swampland that thrived on its damp surroundings.

“Do you want to head back, Agent Reid?” Burgess tugged on his hat to bring further protection from the rain.

“I’d like to continue unless you think we’ll get stuck back there.”

“We’ll be all right; just don’t want to hang out for too long.” Burgess stepped over fallen limbs and atop swollen soils. “We’re almost there anyway.”

Kate followed as closely as she could, fearing her sneakers would sink into the grounds. To minimize the risk, she tried to walk on top of the slippery rocks covered in moss. The thought that she might slide into the water crossed her mind more than once, but this needed to be done. She had to see for herself, for the investigation, where the body reemerged from the depths of the murky waters. Perhaps something had been left behind. A scrap of clothing, a clump of hair hung up on a branch that may not have belonged to the victim. She was assured Deputy Burgess and his team were more than competent, but she had to see for herself. Kate had developed an ability of sorts, although she hesitated to put a label on it. Whatever it was, she had a knack for picking up on clues that might have otherwise been overlooked. It was a phenomenon that had developed a while ago, although she’d only recently recognized it as a consistent occurrence. She hadn’t mentioned this to anyone and figured it would be something best kept to herself. If it helped to solve a case, then so be it. In the meantime, she’d just keep her mouth shut, not wanting to be labeled as a nut job.

“This is the place,” Burgess replied in a raised tone. The rains falling in the woods made for a noisy backdrop.

Kate was completely drenched now. Her hair had been pulled back as usual and its length had grown considerably over this summer. The ponytail now clung to her neck and down her collared shirt. She paid no attention to her appearance, though. Vanity wasn’t her first concern at the moment. A young woman was dead and Kate was here to find something—anything that might help find her killer.

“Has it rained here since her body was found?” It had been a few weeks and, given the nature of the location, Kate began to doubt that she would find anything, figuring all would have washed away.

“Yes. We got remnants from that hurricane last weekend. Not much, but a couple inches maybe.” Burgess squatted down to where Kate had stopped to observe. “You think we might have missed something? My team is pretty thorough.”

“This is just for my own piece of mind, Deputy Burgess. I don’t mean to imply any shortcomings of your team. Please understand that.” She stood upright once again. “Besides, I believe I may have just wasted your time coming out here. Even if there might have been a shred of evidence left behind, and I’m not saying there was, it would have most certainly washed away. I apologize for taking you away from your work, deputy.” Kate continued to peer across the river just beyond the shoreline until the bottom was no longer visible, which wasn’t a great distance in any event. The water’s depth must have increased fairly dramatically. She retrieved her cell phone from its protective case. Fortunately for her, it was waterproof, and began to take a few pictures for her files.

An osprey dove down only feet in front of her, nearly causing her to drop the phone and lose her balance. “Jesus. What the hell was that?” The bird had captured its prey, an unsuspecting mouse balanced on top of a stone just above the waterline. It extended its enormous wings and took flight just as quickly as it had scooped up its meal.

“An osprey.”

“Looks like an eagle.” She turned to Burgess. “It’s got a white head and everything.”

“I know. They share some similar features, but no, that was definitely an osprey.”

Kate began to consider for a moment the t-shirt Ariel Nadal was wearing. She’d assumed the mascot had been an eagle, but the shirt was faded and stretched. Perhaps it had been something else. “Are they pretty common in this area?”

“Oh yeah. They’re everywhere around here.” The rain was beginning to let up a little. “Looks like we might get a bit of a reprieve. We should probably head back before it picks up again, unless you need to see anything else.”

“No. No, this will do, thank you.” Kate followed Burgess back the way they came. The brief storm had relinquished some of its earlier strength, but still drizzled nonetheless.

Burgess opened the trunk of his patrol car and walked around to Kate. “Here’s a towel. I try to be prepared.” The deputy smiled.

“Thanks.” Kate pressed the towel against her face, careful not to smudge her makeup any more than it likely already was. Maybe she did care about her appearance a little, or was it because of her present company?

She placed the towel on the passenger seat and stepped back inside the car where Burgess returned behind the wheel. “Maybe I could get that list of schools from you before I head back?”

“Sure. You think you got something back there?”

“I don’t know. I think I was looking at something that may actually be something else.” Her response was vague, but until she could confirm her suspicions, she’d keep her thoughts to herself.”

The two hadn’t exchanged words on the short drive back to the sheriff’s office. Kate’s mind was operating on overdrive as she reviewed certain aspects of the case files in her head, working to find something, and simply stared through the passenger window at the still falling rain.

On arrival, Burgess pulled into the back lot, behind the building. “Listen, um, I don’t know when you’re due back in D.C., but if you’ve got time, maybe you want to grab an early dinner or a drink before you go? I mean, if you’re up for it. We’ve got a women’s locker room you could use to dry off or whatever.”

Kate turned her attention to the deputy, flattered by his invitation. She had time to come to terms with her mistakes of the past. Letting certain feelings get the better of her—loneliness, feeling wanted and desired. She understood that was all part of the healing process. Yes, she knew very well the approaching date and what it was going to do to her to have to relive that day. But maybe just for now, it would be okay to accept a kind man’s invitation to share his company. Maybe it was okay for now to remember that she was still a woman. “I’d love to, actually. Thank you. My flight doesn’t leave until nine o’clock, so I’ve got a few hours to kill.” She noted her drenched attire. “I wouldn’t mind using your facilities as well.”

“Great. That’s great. Okay. Well, let’s get back inside. I’ll work on the list while you’re getting cleaned up.” His wide smile complemented his slightly pink-hued cheeks in a most genuine manner.

“Okay.” Kate stepped out of the car and her heart felt lighter than it had in much too long a time. Her reluctance to recognize sincerity had nearly cost her what had become a good friendship with Will Caison. She would not dismiss that rare quality again, even if in her heart she knew this would not go further than friendship. That was something for which she was still ill-equipped to handle.

After a lengthy time in the women’s locker room, Kate succeeded in getting her clothes to the point of being only mildly damp. A hair dryer helped to both dry her clothes and put some sort of style back into her locks. She’d decided to forgo the ponytail and instead let her dark hair relax upon her shoulders. Makeup refreshed, Kate was ready to head back out and see what Burgess came up with.

She stood outside his office for a moment before he noticed her.

“Well, you don’t look at all like a drowned rat anymore. Come on in. Let’s go over this list.”

Kate appreciated his humor and found it a refreshing change. She sat down across from him.

“Take a look at this.” He pushed the paper in front of her. “I’ve pulled a list of middle schools from here to Jacksonville. So, as you can see, there are quite a few.”

“Yes.” She began perusing the names.

“So what are you thinking here, exactly?” Burgess asked.

“I can’t say for sure just yet and I don’t know if this list will help either, but my partner and I thought we’d see where it takes us. It seems our second victim lived in Florida for a while. My team thought that was enough to get me here to check things out.” She sat back for a moment. “The fact that the unsub, and for argument’s sake, let’s assume the unsub is male. The fact that he redresses the victim suggests he’s trying to make them appear to be someone they’re not. Someone who he had a connection with. A friend, a classmate, maybe even a family member. Not only that, but it seemed as though it was his intention to make sure the bodies were discovered further downstream, on your side of the river.”

“He couldn’t possibly predict where or when the bodies would turn up,” Burgess began. “Or if he anticipated their turning up at all.”

“That’s a valid point. However, I think if he wanted to ensure they would not be found, he’d have buried them somewhere. Because here’s the thing.” Kate leaned in once again to make her point clear. “Neither autopsy report showed any signs on the victims of being tied to something—something that would keep them at the bottom of the swamp like a boulder or cinderblock. No rope marks at all. It was like he wanted them to rise and be discovered.”

“Why? And how the hell could he know they’d end up this far south?”

“That part, we don’t know yet. But that’s the reason I’m here. We think the unsub has a connection to this place. It’s possible he knew Ariel Nadal, that maybe she went to school here and so did he. Same could be said for Sydney Hawthorne, although he didn’t leave such an obvious clue on her. And while it seems difficult to believe, it is possible that he chose to perform his act in one location and then take his victims to another.”

“Good Lord. How do you deal with stuff?” Burgess asked.

“Good question.”

» » »

Her arrival at Dulles airport and subsequent drive back home to Woodbridge found Kate preoccupied with thoughts of the investigation, thoughts of the last couple of hours she spent with Deputy Burgess, and how much she’d enjoyed those precious few hours of feeling normal.

The flight had been late to arrive and so there were no thoughts in her mind as to going back to the office. She needed to go home and go to bed. It had been a very long day, one that brought about some positive momentum on the investigation. Kate would delve into the list Burgess provided her with tomorrow morning and see if her theory might pan out. That maybe she’d been looking for an eagle mascot and not an osprey. She was no ornithologist, but it was certainly worth a closer look.

The sight of her home just ahead was a welcomed one. Ideas of climbing into her cool sheets soothed the darker ones that lurked in the recesses of her mind, waiting to appear in her dreams. Hazards of the job.

Once inside, Kate immediately shed her clothing that had been soaked through earlier, only to make her appear as though she had never heard of an iron before, trading them in for a pair of cut off sweat pants and an old UCSD t-shirt. A quick text to Dwight letting him know she’d arrived home safely and had some information to show him tomorrow, and Kate was already at the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. She’d forgone any alcoholic beverages at her early dinner with the deputy. Officially on duty, she could not make the department look bad. Kate chuckled and carried on into the living room. She put on the news for just ten minutes—then it would be off to bed.

Her cell buzzed with an incoming message. She reached for it as it rested next to her curled up legs on the sofa. It was from Dwight. “
Nick’s back with us. Talk tomorrow. Nite.”

“Oh my God.” Her eyes widened at the unexpected news. What did he mean exactly? Nick was already back at work, so it could only mean one thing, that he would be working the case with them. She’d wanted to reply, but his final word seemed to imply it was a discussion to be had tomorrow.

Taking in a large sip of wine, Kate was ready to call Nick, but what if he was with Georgia? It was almost midnight and she had made it clear in the past that contacting him at such an hour, and especially when he was with her, was generally a bad idea. She wanted to respect that. And, considering that it appeared as though they were on shaky ground, it was probably best to keep her urges at bay. It was good news nonetheless and she hoped Dwight saw it the same way. Nick wasn’t the type to push Dwight aside. If he wanted to run on something, Nick was the last person who would stand in his way. He was good like that. She could recall the same behavior from him long ago, shortly after meeting him. He’d let her do what she needed to do, and unless it put her directly in harm’s way, he wouldn’t try to stop her.

Whatever had transpired to make it possible for Nick to be back on the team, Kate was glad. The work was hard both physically and mentally and having him there to offer up his wisdom meant they might get that much closer to finding the killer.

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