“Great. Parker and Avery called. They are on their way in from the lab. We got a hair follicle DNA match.”
“So Marley definitely was there.” Another concrete detail. Now if the pieces would just start fitting together.
“Kate and Tanner are on their way over. Kate said she found some interesting stuff in Marley’s personal laptop browser history.”
Parker and Avery entered carrying donuts from the Fractured Prune and coffee from Café Euro.
“I’ve got a call in to the man responsible for Gettysburg reenactment—Bob Ward,” Parker said, biting into a chocolate-dipped donut. “Marley was asking Linda Jo a bunch of questions about him.”
“Okay,” Griffin said, “but I’m still not seeing how this all ties together—Perera, Gettysburg, reenactments, Marley’s aunt?”
“I think I may know,” Kate said, entering with the laptop under her arm and Tanner following behind, her face flushed with anger.
“What’s wrong?”
Kate looked back at Tanner. “She’s not thrilled with what I found.”
“It’s not that. I just think you’re searching for another answer when Perera is right in front of you. He’s a monster who wouldn’t hesitate to kill Marley.”
“And he admitted as much,” Finley said. “Admitted he planned to take her out, but someone beat him to it.”
“Likely excuse.”
“Why admit he intended to kill her at all?”
“Because you wouldn’t believe he was totally innocent. It admits guilt without holding him responsible for her death. You can’t charge him for wanting to kill her, and he knows it.”
“No, but with your evidence we can push to have her case against him reopened.”
“And then the cycle starts all over. Authorities bribed, pressure to drop the case, files disappearing. We have to get him
now
, pin him for this, or he will just slip away again.”
“I understand your frustration, Tanner, but our job is to find Marley’s killer, and that’s what we have to focus on,” Griffin
said. He wanted to get Perera too. The man had been in Finley’s car. He’d made her feel vulnerable, invaded. But their focus, for the time being, had to remain on Marley’s killer. And he wasn’t convinced that was Perera.
“I may be able to help,” Kate said.
All eyes were on her as Parker’s cell rang. “Hold that thought. It’s Bob Wade.”
“Who’s Bob Wade?” Kate asked as Parker stepped from the room.
“Mr. Wade, thanks for returning my call,” Parker said, finding a secluded place to talk.
“Linda Jo over at the Gettysburg Inn said you had some questions about a young lady I spoke to quite a ways back. Linda Jo said she was murdered.”
“Yes.”
“How awful.”
“It is, and we’re trying to find her killer.”
“That’s great, but I’m not sure what any of this has to do with me.”
“Not you precisely. We just need to know what you two discussed.”
“All right. Well, I remember I found her interest odd.”
“Odd how?”
“First off, I don’t usually get a lot of women interested in participating other than in auxiliary roles, of course, but Miss Douglas was particularly interested in sharpshooters.”
“Sharpshooters?”
“Yes. She asked me a lot about the men we have involved. I couldn’t tell if she was interested in watching or doing some sort
of article. I can’t recall what she said when I asked the source of her interest, but I gave her Kevin’s name and told her he’d be the one to ask about the history of sharpshooters.”
“Kevin?”
“Yes. Kevin Murphy. He’s one of our sharpshooter reenactors. Knows his military history.”
“Any chance he was military or former military?”
“I got that impression.”
“Did you ever ask?”
“Kevin wasn’t the sort for small talk. You try to get personal and he just changed the subject. A lot of our reenactors are pretty private, especially those who chose to fight on the South’s side. We’ve got a good contingent of former military, though. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was.”
“You have contact information for Kevin?”
“I got a phone number, but it is for an answering service. I leave a message about when we are meeting and he shows up.”
“Does he live in Gettysburg?”
“Not that I’m aware. It’s a small enough town; we have a good feel for most folks around. Many live in the surrounding area—cabins afford lots of anonymity.”
“Ever see Kevin with anyone? Did anyone attend the reenactments to watch him? A wife, girlfriend, buddy?”
“Not that I noticed.”
“Okay. Could we get that phone number from you?”
It was a start.
Parker jotted down the number, asked a few more questions, thanked Bob for his time, and returned to Declan’s room. “That was Bob, and you’re not going to believe what he just told me.”
“So do you think our sniper is a sharpshooter reenactor?” Finley asked.
“Could very possibly be,” Griffin said, the pieces starting to make a little more sense. “Former military tend to gravitate to a similar structure, and military reenactments provide a similar level of camaraderie and discipline.”
“Okay, so what do we know about Kevin Murphy?”
“I’ve got a number.” Parker handed it to Griffin. “Your area of expertise. Bob did mention it’s an answering service.”
“I’ll get a warrant to access their client list,” Declan said.
“I’ll give them a call and see if we can’t garner a little information in the meantime,” Griffin said, stepping from the room.
He placed the call, spoke with the woman working the service, and returned to Declan’s room, irritation sparking.
“That’s not the face of happiness,” Declan said.
“The woman at the agency said Murphy set up the service over the phone and pays by money order—always from a different location.”
“Great. That’s helpful. Sounds like a warrant won’t do us much good, but I’ll still follow through.” With a sigh, Declan looked at Kate. “You said you had something?”
“Marley’s browser history had been erased—or so the person who did it thought—but I was able to . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. You don’t need the details.”
They’d never understand them anyway. Kate was a hacker extraordinaire.
“I was able to retrieve what had been wiped off, and it was not what I expected.”
“What did you find?” Griffin asked.
“A lot of references to the Bosnian War. Marley was too young to have been involved working human rights stuff. She
would have been a kid. Perhaps she covered it as part of her dissertation in college or something, but it feels more personal than that.”
Griffin glanced at Finley. “I think we might know why.”
They went on to explain to Kate what they’d learned about Marley’s aunt Andrea and her work photographing the Bosnian war crimes.
“So how does Marley’s research into Bosnia tie in with Perera?”
“I have no idea. I also can’t figure out how a sharpshooter reenactor who is possibly our sniper would be tied to Perera.”
“Maybe he’s the sniper Perera hired to take Marley out?” Tanner said, a twinge of hope flickering in her voice. She wanted Perera bad.
“But,” Griffin said, “how would she know that, and what does any of that have to do with Marley’s sudden and intense fascination with her aunt’s tie to the Bosnian War?”
“I found a lot of articles on a . . .” Kate opened the browser and retrieved the information. “General Rativik.”
“Rativik,” Griffin said. “His name has been coming up a lot lately. He was responsible for the genocide Andrea witnessed in Sarajevo. One of Mladic’s right-hand men.”
“Ratko Mladic?” Finley asked.
“Yes.”
“They found him in hiding and tried him a few years ago,” Avery said.
“Hid for nearly a decade,” Finley said. Her beautiful eyes narrowed.
“What if this is a similar case?” Griffin asked. “What if Rativik has been in hiding?”
“Nope,” Kate said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Marley pulled up a string of articles on his death. He died in an explosion.”
“Was his body found?”
Kate shook her head. “Remains were too charred.”
“Anything in Marley’s research about a sniper?” Griffin asked.
“In a roundabout way.”
“Meaning?”
“There was this U.S. Marine Marley did a lot of digging on. Peter Kovac. I wasn’t able to find a whole lot on him after 1990, but he entered the Marines at age eighteen in ’86. Attended sniper school in ’88 and Marine Division Recon the next, and then he dropped off the records until he was killed in ’95 while serving in Bosnia.”
Griffin and Declan exchanged a look, and then Griffin asked, “Does it say how he died?”
“IED attack.”
Declan shrugged his good shoulder. “Makes a great cover story.”
“Cover story for what?” Avery asked.
“Covering up someone’s death,” Declan explained.
“Okay, so
if
this Kovac died in Bosnia, why was Marley so interested in him?”
“When U.S. soldiers are part of black ops, and Kovac’s history would support that,” Griffin said, “and they are killed doing something the U.S. government doesn’t want to explain or acknowledge, the soldiers typically die from IED attacks, helicopter accidents, or friendly fire.”
“Wait a minute.” Kate shifted between windows, her eyes narrowing. “Rativik and Kovac died within a day of each other.”
Finally Griffin felt the pieces coming together. “What if the
ghost—to use Ben’s words—Marley thought she saw in Gettysburg was Rativik?”
Finley smiled. “It would explain why she suddenly wanted her aunt’s files on Rativik and his war crimes.”
“And Kovac?” Avery asked.
“Could have been Rativik’s way out of Bosnia,” Parker said.
“Meaning the U.S. smuggled him out via one of their soldiers and have been hiding him here?” Avery said, frowning.
“Or what if Rativik paid Kovac to stage the explosion he supposedly died in and get him out of the country?” Declan said.
Avery shook her head. “Why would a U.S. soldier do that? And how would they come in contact?”
“Again, it’ll take some digging, but Kovac could have been sent in to kill Rativik. He’d possess the necessary skills. Maybe Rativik persuaded him to flip for a huge payoff,” Griffin offered. “Kovac and Rativik staged the explosion and fled to the U.S.”
“Meaning Kovac could be Kevin Murphy,” Kate guessed.
Griffin nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
“So Marley was researching Rativik and his death, trying to figure out how he could have survived, and she finds a soldier who died within a day of Rativik. Begins to track him. Maybe they find out she’s on to them and they lure her to Gettysburg. She’s busy taking pictures of Rativik while Kovac takes her out. And you know what sniper rifle Bosnian Serbs preferred?” Griffin said.
“The Dragunov?” Parker asked.
Griffin nodded.
“If Kovac is Murphy and participates in the reenactments, he probably knows the battlefield well,” Finley said.
“Which means he may live nearby.” Griffin shifted in his seat, staring back at the curtained window, thankful for the cover.
“So Perera was telling the truth?” Finley said.
Griffin looked at Tanner, whose eyes were filled with tears. “I’m afraid so.”
This wasn’t about Perera at all.
This was about bringing the man responsible for the atrocities Marley’s aunt, family, and friends had suffered to justice.
Finally
.
Speaking of
finally
. “Park, can I speak with you outside for a moment?”
Parker looked at him, thoroughly confused. As did Declan.
“Sure.” Parker stood and stepped from the room.
Griffin glanced back at Finley, whose amazing courage fueled his. To think of all she’d been through and the fight she continued to fight. It was awe-inspiring, and he loved her all the more for it.
The officer still guarding Declan’s room glanced up at them.
“Let’s see if we can’t find an empty room,” Griff said.
“O . . . kay.”
It took a minute, but they tracked one down.
Parker hopped on the bed, one leg dangling off the side.
Griffin raked a hand through his hair. “I owe you a huge apology.”
Shock rippled across Parker’s face, his poor attempt at a guard fully slipping from place.