Longing for sin, p.23
Longing for Sin, page 23
The fact that Mason had gotten Derek to admit that the woman killed had been on a dating app that he'd swiped to declined had been a miracle, but that was basically where the information had ended. Whatever else had been discussed between the two men had ended when Derek had decided to finally call in a lawyer. This one had been local, and he'd basically told Derek not to say another word while bail was being arranged.
Nick Dorn still hadn't been located, and Les Snyder was still in custody. She had Theo keeping tabs on both cases while she met up with Bit and Sylvie at the office. The unsub was reacting versus planning, which meant that a mistake had probably been made within the last twenty-four hours. They just needed to find the thread that needed to be pulled.
Brook hadn't blamed Mason for bowing out of the situation. She even highly doubted that he'd gone to aid Les Snyder in his case. This entire investigation was getting out of hand, and the unsub had seen to it that they were all running around like scattered chickens escaping the clutches of the farmer with his axe.
"Good evening, Miss Sloane," Lou greeted her from his seat behind the large station in the foyer. "It sure is a cold one tonight. I'm glad to see that you chose to come home earlier than usual. I just heard on the radio that the storm is slowing down. As a matter of fact, they fear that the storm might stall out above us. We might be in for a foot of snow by tomorrow night, if not more."
Lou and Charlie were basically the only ones who hadn't treated her differently after the news had broken that she was Jacob's sister. She was damn good at reading people, and neither one had come across as disingenuous. They truly seemed to feel for her situation, and they also appeared to realize that she wanted to keep everything status quo. She didn't want to discuss her past, she didn't want it to be a point of contention, and she simply wanted to carry on with her daily life as if nothing had even happened.
"I'm only here for a change of clothes, Lou. I've got to head back to the office," Brook explained as she tried to dry off her boots on the industrial rug as best she could. "I should have a few hours before everything slows down or closes. Besides, you know my work building is only two blocks away."
Lou frowned in disappointment upon hearing her plans. He really was a sweet man, and he only had the best intentions toward the tenants of the building. He was older than Charlie, and he was also a bit wiser.
Truthfully, she had a soft spot for him, and it had taken her a few days before admitting that she'd been relieved upon him addressing her no differently than before the media leak. He'd adored Mrs. Upton. Had the roles been reversed, she wasn't sure she wouldn't have harbored a bit of resentment toward the person responsible.
Technically, that would be Jacob, but she was an extension of him.
"You really shouldn't be out there in this weather, Miss Sloane. What if something were to happen?"
Brook had almost made it to the elevator bank when she pulled up short. Lou hadn't really been referencing the weather. He was concerned for her due to Jacob still being out there somewhere, but she wasn't so sure of that anymore. He could very well be on the West Coast or even in another country. She would have sworn that Jacob would have reached out to her after hearing about her plans to sit down with Jennifer Madsen.
Unfortunately, he'd gone completely silent.
The last time he'd done that, he'd vanished years before resurfacing in her life.
"Like I said, Lou," Brook replied, not wanting to address the underlying meaning of his words. She wanted to keep feigning that nothing had changed. She needed the pretense for her mental wellbeing. "I've already parked my car underneath the awning across the street. It'll be like taking a stroll in a winter wonderland tonight. I could use a little after-holiday spirit. Have a good night, Lou."
It wasn't like Brook wouldn't see him again on her way out of the building. She would wait until then to focus the departing conversation on him. During weather events such as the one that was about to descend upon them, he would usually stay in one of the apartments reserved for the staff during such incidents.
It didn't take long for Brook to reach her floor. Seeing as she'd gone the last two months without anyone else sharing the small private hallway that led to her front door and that of the condo where Mrs. Upton used to reside, Brook had gotten used to being the only one coming and going. To say that she was taken aback by the appearance of a tall man after the elevator doors had slowly opened was an understatement.
"You must be my neighbor."
Brook had seen Bit's email regarding the background check into Colin Vogel. With the turn in the day's events, she hadn't had time to review it. Had there been anything sketchy about him, she had to trust that Bit would have given her a warning. Either way, she would read over the file with a fine-tooth comb once she had a moment to breathe.
Colin Vogal was at least an inch or two over six feet. He sported a stylish haircut that required products, but there was something very masculine about him that no doubt drew the ladies to him. He wasn't wearing a suit, but he might as well have been given the way he carried himself. The black trousers with a matching dress shirt underneath an off-white sweater was visible beneath his yet-to-be fastened black dress coat.
"And you must be the lawyer with the perfect credit rating," Brook replied, attempting to keep things brief. She stepped off the elevator and held her arm to the side in order to keep the doors open. "I'm Brook. If you ever need sugar, I'm probably not the one to ask. It's my mission to keep the meal delivery people employed for the rest of my life."
Brook loathed small talk, but she had done her best to let him know that she wasn't in the market for new friends.
Technically, she had no friends.
"I'm Colin," he said with a flash of a smile. The spark of interest in his light green eyes was noticeable. Upon second thought, she might have been mistaken. It was almost as if he found her attempt at distancing herself to be humorous. "And now I know who to go to if I ever need to know which restaurant has the best delivery people. Nothing is worse than opening up the bag only to find out that the fries are missing."
Brook hinted a slight accent. It almost sounded British.
He also hadn't taken her hint or walked into the elevator.
Colin Vogal didn't strike her as a man who would be obtuse.
"I'll have to think on that," Brook said, deciding to take a different tactic. Considering that she was carrying her purse and briefcase, the strain on her right shoulder wasn't pleasant. Add on that she was holding the elevator door open with her right hand, her muscles were in the middle of protesting. "I'm running a bit late, though. It was nice meeting you."
The way Colin continued to stare at her told her one thing—he had recognized her from the brief statement that she'd given to the press. Granted, he'd probably already known about her due to the other tenants and their propensity to gossip. Either way, he clearly wanted to keep their conversation going, and he was forcing her hand. She didn't want to come across as a bitch. She really didn't, but he was basically leaving her no choice.
Brook let go of her hold on the elevator.
"Have a good night, Colin."
"You, too, Brook."
She hated to turn her back on anyone, but she did so in order to walk to her front door. She'd taken off her gloves in the elevator, so all she had to do was pull out her keys, which she had in her coat pocket. While doing so, she'd listened carefully for any sound that indicated Colin hadn't gotten onto the elevator. The doors had finally closed, but that hadn't meant he'd been inside when they had sealed.
Not wanting anyone to witness her run her fingers over the top of her doorframe, she risked glancing behind her. There was no sign of Colin. Breathing a sigh of relief that she wouldn't be stuck in another awkward situation, she went ahead and checked to see if the strip of tape that she'd secured to the frame and door was still intact.
Finding it all in one piece, she removed it before slipping her key into its slot.
She'd learned that she could never be too careful when it came to Jacob.
Once inside, she quickly tossed her keys onto the entryway table that her father had made for her mother back in the day. She also abandoned her purse and briefcase near the door, because she'd need to take both with her when she left to head back to work.
Brook was never one to pause to take in her surroundings, but she allowed herself one minute.
Sixty seconds.
Surely that would be enough time to regain her equilibrium.
She'd already decided that she'd probably end her sessions with Dr. Swift. She hadn't been able to keep an appointment within these last two months due to all the changes in her life, which she'd handled just fine on her own.
Well, as best as anyone could in her situation.
Right?
Brook allowed the quiet of her own place to settle over her. Technically, it was her home, although she wasn't sure she ever truly had a home. The last time she'd ever felt like she truly belonged to a family had been before the age of ten. Even those precious memories had been tarnished in retrospect, and she would never get them back.
The salted caramel candle fragrance that was her favorite still hung in the air from the last time she'd burned the candles. When she opened her eyes, her gaze wasn't drawn to the large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. No, her focus was on the wall that served as her own whiteboard when it came to her brother.
It was good thing that she'd been overly busy getting the new company up and running. Otherwise, she might have lost a grip on what little sanity she had left.
She finally accepted what she hadn't wanted to believe—Jacob would have made an appearance had he still been in town. She'd noticed that the van hadn't been parked across the street. She highly doubted that it had anything to do with the incoming storm, either.
Special Agent Russ Houser had been denied the extension on the surveillance of her building. After two months of no leads, she had a suspicion that he might even be sent packing back to Boston. His field office probably wasn't too happy that he'd left his other cases to wither away. Not being monitored twenty-four-seven would be nice, but her picture was still floating around in the media. She'd seen a newspaper on an officer's desk. Her brief statement to the press had only given her a little breathing space, but they were still hovering at an uncomfortable distance.
While Brook would like nothing more than to put on some light jazz, pour herself a glass of cheap sparkling Moscato, and order a large pizza covered with pepperoni and mushrooms, she needed to change clothes and head back to the office. She'd missed something during the course of the day, which was exactly what the unsub had wanted her to do.
She'd been close.
Too close.
It was the reason that the unsub had gone to such extremes as to commit two murders in basically one day. The mistake was usually in the first kill, but she was now confident that it was different this time around. The unsub wouldn't have been able to take the dedicated amount of time that he was used to in planning his crimes.
As she went into her bedroom and changed her clothes for something a bit more comfortable, she mulled over every step that she'd taken in the past twelve hours, along with every piece of information that had been given to her by the team. She'd had to delegate tasks to them, such as Sylvie calling Brenda Snyder after their visit to assure her that they were doing everything possible for her middle son to Bit searching every security camera near Les Snyder's apartment for anyone familiar related to the case.
By the time Brook had slipped into a pair of dark blue jeans and a cream cowlick sweater, a casual outfit that she'd never worn to the office but was more conducive to the outdoor weather, something that was said earlier in the day had her pausing from reaching for her dress coat. Wishing that she was standing in front of the white boards at the office, she made due with the wall that she'd dedicated to Jacob.
Colored strings were wrapped around tacks holding pictures and articles into place against the dining room wall. It was visible from almost every aspect of her condo. She concentrated more on the strings than anything else, replacing the information available to what she'd memorized from the conference room.
Every single lead throughout the entire investigation had led them to the Snyders. It seemed to have ended with them, too. Les was about to spend his entire life behind bars if they didn't capture their unsub, leaving the Snyder family reeling from yet another loss.
She'd ruled out Nick Dorn from being the unsub based on her profile.
She had to trust her profile, which meant that Dorn had simply been a scapegoat.
A very convenient and handy scapegoat who was most likely...still alive.
While there were some unsubs who went against their core nature to survive, this unsub was all about vengeance on the fathers' role in the military. The first few were clearly related to Project Grey Skies, but the others had been part of other missions that might not have gone according to plan.
While that was something that Bit could look into under the radar, they were running out of time. Derek was still sitting in a holding cell, Les Snyder was in the same boat, and Nick Dorn was being held somewhere that should he die...the unsub wouldn't experience the guilt of being the one responsible.
Only the unsub had made a mistake.
She simply hadn't caught it at the time it was being made.
"Got you," Brook whispered to herself as she quickly gathered her belongings, making sure she had her cell phone in hand. As she locked the door to her condo behind her, she wasn't so distracted that she forgot about the single strip of tape. She dialed Bit while reaching into her briefcase for the roll that she always kept in the front pocket. "Bit, I need you to go back through the injured parties of Project Grey Skies one more time. I believe that I know the identity of our unsub."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brooklyn Sloane
January 2022
Wednesday — 11:26pm
"What are you doing here?" Brook asked as she shook her head in disappointment. One, she didn't have time to update him on everything that had happened today. Two, she was freezing after walking the two blocks from her condo building. "Graham, now isn't a good time. I know that Brenda Snyder has probably been ringing your phone off the hook, but trust me when I say that we have things well in hand. Please go be with her, show her your support, and I'll keep you updated on the case as things unfold."
Brook had not only called Bit with instructions to search through the injured parties of Project Grey Skies, but she'd also touched base with Adrian. He and Ingram were still at the station. There was no doubt that he would want to be a part of what happened next.
All she needed was time to verify her theory before having him pull the trigger on her plan. She didn't care who pulled the proverbial trigger, and it might go a long way in establishing a working relationship between S&E Investigations and NCIS if they were allowed to make this arrest.
"This isn't about the case."
Brook quickly walked through the first of the double entry doors in order to escape the cold. The precipitation had already turned from random flurries to a steady downfall of snow. She hadn't had time to appreciate the beauty, and her facial features weren't thrilled with having gone numb a half a block into her walk. The winter boots that she'd purchased had been well worth every single penny that she'd spent on them.
Upon hearing the intensity of Graham's words, she stopped herself from opening the second door. The overhead heater of the small area suddenly couldn't chase away the chill that had nothing to do with the cold weather.
Brook didn't consider herself a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but something told her not to turn around. Maybe it was because she didn't want Graham to witness her reaction to what he might have to say in the next few minutes. She'd been studying him at each of their meetings and monitoring his voice, his mannerisms, and any tells that he might have. He only ever used that particular tone when discussing her brother.
Had Special Agent Houser actually done what she couldn't?
Had Jacob been apprehended?
Or had her brother gone and taken another life? He'd been dormant for so long, and then it was as if the gates to the dam had been forced open. The discovery of the body in Maine, his reminder to her that he was still lurking in the shadows, and then proving to her that not even a neighbor of hers was safe from his reach.
Maybe that was it...he'd gotten bored with hiding in the shadows.
Had he gone on another killing spree like the one in Illinois?
"Well?" Brook asked, though she could barely hear her own voice. She cleared her throat and then forced herself to turn around to face him. She was already attempting to compartmentalize everything that had happened today, and there was a damn good chance that she could solve one of their problems. Whatever he was about to say wouldn't change what happened in the next hour or two. "What happened that would bring you downtown this time of night?"
Graham practically raked his gaze over her face several times, as if he was gauging her strength. She tried not to be insulted, but she failed miserably. Right when she would have snapped something that she most likely would have regretted at a later point, he finally responded to her inquiries.
"Jacob was at the house today."
Brook hadn't realized that she'd been holding her breath until her lungs expanded what air had been trapped inside of them. Her stomach heaved at the thought of what her brother could have done to whoever had been in the house, yet her mind reassured her that it wasn't in his nature to act spontaneously.
He would have had a plan in place.
He wasn't one to react under pressure like the unsub who she was about to bring down due to his own missteps.
"I take it no one was injured?"
"No," Graham replied, still monitoring her reaction. "I guess I should thank him, really. He fixed the problem with the flue while leaving my housekeeper very much alive. He was also fond of my book collection, which he perused at his leisure. I don't need to tell you that he finds our...relationship...very compelling."
