Counter attack, p.11
Counter Attack, page 11
“Maybe you can help us get into the killer’s head.”
24
Alex pushed the English peas around her plate.
Her grandmother cleared her throat. “Something wrong with those peas?”
With a start she looked up and did a mental shake to clear her head. “No, ma’am. I’m just tired. And can’t quit thinking about what Mark told me about that poor woman killed this morning.”
He’d called with background information on Gina Norman just before she sat down.
“You want to talk about it?” Gramps asked.
Nathan put his fork down. “I’d like to know what he found out too.”
Maybe it would help, except her grandmother had a firm rule of not talking business at the supper table. She glanced at Gram. “Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead, child.” She raised her eyebrows. “Only this once, though.”
Alex took a deep breath. “She was single, with no children, but does have a mother in Chicago. Mrs. Norman told Mark she hadn’t talked to her in a couple of months—evidently they’re not close. She mentioned something about a broken engagement, and that she thought her daughter moved to Pearl Springs to teach at the high school. When Mark checked, that turned out not to be true.”
Nathan cut a piece of the country-fried steak. “Did the mother have a name or a phone number for the fiancé?”
She nodded. “Keith Sanders, but when Mark called him, he was in Oregon. Been there two weeks.”
“With the pawn found in her possession and the note, the fiancé wasn’t our number one suspect anyway.”
“No.” Alex stared at her plate. “I just can’t get out of my mind why someone would want to kill these victims. And how does George Smith figure into it? Was it a coincidence that Smith attacked me? Or was he planning a copycat murder with me as the victim?”
“I think he was a copycat,” Gramps said.
Alex turned to him. “Why?”
He pointed with his fork. “When you were in the hospital, one of your colleagues came by, and we talked about it. Just seemed strange that he picked you that particular night.”
“Maybe because Alexis was hanging out at the Lemon Tree—”
“And if it was a copycat, he would have wanted to stay as close to the facts that he knew.” She turned to Nathan. “Do you think George Smith is his real name?”
“I didn’t see a background report in the files that Chattanooga PD sent over.”
Alex pushed away from the table. “It’s been almost a month. I’m going to make a call, if you will excuse me.”
She took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts as she walked to the living room. When she came to the homicide detective in charge of the Chattanooga investigation, she pressed call. It was a little after eight, and Todd Madden would probably not want to talk to her after being in court all day, but she needed an answer tonight. He picked up on the second ring.
“Madden.”
“Todd, do you have a minute to talk about George Smith?”
“Not really, but I will. What do you need?”
Todd Madden’s usual “I’m superior to you” tone grated on her nerves, and she clenched her jaw to keep from spitting out a retort. Think of still waters. A lake . . .
“I read the report on him,” she said calmly. “And since I know how thorough you are, I wondered if you hadn’t gotten around to adding in the background report on him.”
“Hold on a sec.” There was dead silence on the other end, then she heard papers being shuffled.
She watched the second hand on her grandmother’s clock sweep around. Ninety seconds later, he came on the line.
“Here it is.” Todd didn’t sound quite so arrogant. “Except for a few DUIs in the past, George Smith has a clean record. His prints don’t return any criminal hits like burglary or robbery. Haven’t found any next of kin yet, but we’re still looking.”
“I appreciate you sharing the information you have. If we learn anything, I’ll return the favor.”
“Who have you made mad?” Madden asked.
“What?”
“Part of the profile we received from the FBI indicated the killer had a fixation on a woman who resembled his victims—five-sixish, reddish hair, blue eyes, slim build, midtwenties to midthirties—it all fits you.”
“And?” She already knew this—it was the reason she was picked to go undercover.
“As far as I’m concerned, the killer moving to your area and killing someone on the very day you’re sworn in as Russell County’s chief deputy—congratulations, by the way—confirms my conviction you’re connected to the killings.”
Madden was making her feel worse than she already did. Had she brought the killer to Russell County? “Anything else?”
“We’re still looking at all your cases.”
“My cases?”
“Yeah. We pulled them after the second victim—the one you were mentoring. I thought I might find a connection, especially with the Denton shooting.”
“What did you come up with?”
“Not a lot other than the shooting wasn’t your fault.”
“Internal Affairs cleared me of any wrongdoing.”
“I know. But we had to look at it with fresh eyes. As far as Phillip Denton, we hit a dead end—couldn’t find any relatives or even friends.”
Nothing new there, but why hadn’t Madden told her they were reviewing her cases? Because that was Madden. Secretive. “How about his background? Did he always live in Chattanooga?”
Since she was the officer involved, Alex hadn’t been allowed to participate in the investigation, and she’d never seen the final report. But that was about to change.
“We have no way of knowing,” Madden said. “The background on his job resume turned out to be fake.”
There were plenty of sites to buy fake IDs on the dark web, and a good hacker could manipulate records to authenticate the IDs.
“We were able to trace back to his first Tennessee driver’s license five years ago,” Madden said. “No idea where he lived before that or if he had any family. He paid for everything in cash or check and was such a loner that none of his neighbors or coworkers could tell us anything except that he was odd.”
Denton’s strangeness was the reason a neighbor had turned him in after someone planted a bomb at the mall. “I’d like to see the interviews with his neighbors.”
“Sure. I’ll have copies made for you, but there’s not much to send. Want me to email them to you?”
“That’d be great.” She gave him her new email address. “Send the whole file, if you don’t mind.”
Reading it would probably trigger more nightmares. Not that she didn’t relive the shooting at least once a day anyway.
Alex had been so proud of being assigned to the task force investigating the bombing, and while her supervisor hadn’t put much credence in the tip from Denton’s neighbor, every call had to be checked out. She’d been given that job.
When Denton came to the door and discovered she was police, he went ballistic and she’d been forced to kill him in self-defense, only to learn after the fact that Denton’s gun wasn’t loaded.
“By the way, in case I never told you, that was good detective work on finding out he was the mall bomber.”
“Thanks.” She managed to keep the surprise out of her voice.
“I never got a chance to ask you, but how did you figure it out?”
Never got a chance? She worked one floor below him. Play nice. You might be working with him one day.
“Some of it was luck,” she said. After Denton’s shooting, she’d been cleared to return to work after two weeks, but she hadn’t returned to the task force. “A month after what went down at the condo, I was working burglary and caught a case involving a construction company and missing laptops. When I took the report and the secretary described the computers, I remembered looking around Phillip Denton’s condo while I waited for the medical examiner and seeing three laptops like she described.
“I asked if he ever worked there, and it snowballed from there when she confided that he had and that laptops weren’t the only thing missing—they’d just discovered C-4, wiring, and detonators were missing as well. You guys took over then.”
“Yeah. The crime scene techs went over the apartment. Never found any of that stuff, but we didn’t have a bomb detection dog then. They did find a few pieces of wiring in his spare bedroom that matched the wiring in the mall bomb. I just hope you never lost any sleep over the shooting.”
Her fellow officers, superiors, Dr. Hudson, Gramps . . . everyone told her she’d had no choice. But none of that helped when the nightmares came and she was left with replaying her actions that day.
25
Alex disconnected from the call to Madden as Nathan entered the living room.
“Learn anything about George Smith?”
She repeated what Madden had told her. “I don’t get it. The man doesn’t have a criminal record, so why start now?”
“That’s a good question. Chattanooga PD needs to keep digging into his past. Did Madden have anything else to say?”
“He agreed to give us the files on the interviews with Denton’s neighbors.” She crossed her arms. “Tonight was the first time Todd Madden opened up about the Queen’s Gambit murders. Before when I asked anything about the investigation, he’d be so tightlipped that I wondered if his lips were sewn together. I also found out that they’re looking at all my cases and even the people I know.”
He rubbed his jaw. “When I looked at the photos of the victims today, I knew there was a connection to you. All of the women are about your height and build. Same color red hair as yours. The second victim, Rebecca Daniels, even had the same style.”
Because Alex had taken the girl to her stylist. She’d only wanted to help Becky. A heavy weight settled in Alex’s chest, and when Nathan pulled her into his arms, she didn’t resist.
His gentle touch as he stroked her back calmed her racing thoughts, and she relaxed against the steady beat of his heart. Suddenly she stiffened.
“What?” Nathan pulled back and looked down at her.
“We have a press conference tomorrow afternoon, and I really need you to help me understand the castling move.”
“You sure? You look pretty beat.”
“I’m not going into that press conference unprepared. I’ll get the chessboard and set it up on the kitchen table.”
A few minutes later, with Gramps looking on, Alex had all the pieces in place. She didn’t know enough about the game to play well, so Nathan played both Black and White pieces and explained each of the moves, going over them until she grasped the concept.
She stared at the board. “I think I have it. One more question—can you castle anytime?”
“No,” her grandfather and Nathan said in unison.
Carson smiled at him. “You explain it.”
Nathan nodded. “You can only castle when neither the king nor the rook has moved. That’s the case here. With nothing between the White king and rook, I can move the king two squares to the left and the rook will move in place to protect his king.”
She looked at her grandfather. “Why didn’t you teach me how to play?”
“I tried, but you weren’t interested.”
Well, she was interested now. Alex reached to move the White rook, and Nathan stayed her hand, his fingertips brushing hers. His touch was like electricity jolting through her. She looked up, and his blue eyes held hers. She dropped her gaze to his lips, and briefly the memory of a long-ago kiss sent her heart racing.
“Always move the king first.”
His words shook the memory away. She ducked her head and nodded. “Of course, I knew that.”
Whatever this feeling for Nathan was, Alex was beginning to like it. And that posed a problem.
26
Alexis had felt the electric shock when their hands touched. It showed on her face. Nathan shook off the attraction he felt for her and forced his attention to the chessboard.
In chess a player had to think a certain number of moves ahead and picture the outcome. It wasn’t lost on him that he better think about what would happen if he pursued these feelings he had for Alexis.
He wasn’t handing over his heart again to have her break it.
But Nathan couldn’t ignore that he’d been battling his feelings for Alexis ever since he saw her lying on the sidewalk that night in Chattanooga.
Alexis moved her king over two spaces and then set the rook on the other side of it. “Do you see how your other pieces are defending your king?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Let’s say I’m the killer and have just castled queenside. When you counterattack, you’re telling the killer you’re coming after his king. That’s what you want to slip in at the press conference—that you’re coming after the killer.”
A light bulb went off on her face. “Okay, I get it. Let’s say it’s my move . . .” She moved her queen. “I believe that’s check.”
He stared at the board. Her queen had a clear diagonal shot to his king. “I believe you are getting it.”
She beamed at him. “Probably just a bit of luck, but I think I’ll be ready for the media tomorrow.”
His phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. His CI. “I need to take this.” Nathan stood and walked out into the Stones’ backyard. “What’s happening?”
“There’s a big drug meeting going down at the high school tonight.”
Nathan gripped the phone. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“What time is it happening?”
“Around ten.”
“Thanks.” Nathan pocketed his phone and returned to the kitchen. Judith and Carson Stone were nowhere to be seen. “I need to leave. Thank your grandmother for me—supper was great.”
“What’s wrong?”
He hesitated. If he told her, would she want to take over the case? With Carson out, as chief deputy Alexis was the top law enforcement official in the county. On the other hand, if he didn’t tell her, it would affect their working relationship. “There’s a meeting of drug dealers at the high school,” he said.
“I’m going with you.”
He eyed her. Before he could say anything, she held up her hand.
“I’m not taking over your case—I have problems enough with the Queen’s Gambit Killer. Just trying to be helpful—you’ve certainly been here for me.”
Okay, maybe it would work. “My truck?”
“Why don’t I follow you? That way I’ll have my own wheels and you won’t have to bring me home.” She took her phone out. “How many deputies do you think we’ll need?”
He wanted to say none because he hadn’t had enough time to plan a raid, but that would be foolish. “I have no idea what the situation will be, so have three of your deputies arrive in silent mode and then hang back until I can assess the situation. Might not need them tonight at all.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He found her grandparents and thanked them for the meal and then hurried out the back door with Alexis on his heels. He wanted to get in place soon in case the drug dealers showed up early. Once Nathan was in his pickup, he contacted his two officers on duty tonight, Eric Malone and Kelsey James, by phone instead of using the radio—he didn’t want to risk someone hearing a transmission. He explained what was going on and that tonight was reconnaissance but to be nearby in case things went south. Like the Russell County deputies, they were to arrive in silent mode and stay out of sight unless he needed them.
Nathan glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. Why was Alexis all over the road?
27
An alert came in that Stone’s Tahoe was moving. Phame booted up the screen on the small laptop and opened the directory that would allow the computer to access the Tahoe’s Controller Area Network or CAN. Much like a human’s brain, CAN sent messages to every part of the car—brakes, steering, gas—you name it, CAN controlled it.
It’d been a simple matter to hack the locks on the SUV and plug Phame’s own network device into the proper port while Stone was in Chattanooga. And now, with a few clicks, the Tahoe was completely under Phame’s control.
One click disabled the brakes. Another click took control of the steering, and the vehicle crossed the center line and back. Oh, to be able to see Alex Stone’s face right about now. Her fear had to be palpable as Phame guided the SUV across the center line.
Phame glanced at the video that reflected real-time activity. Headlights meant an oncoming car. It would be so easy to end Stone’s life. Just hold the SUV on the wrong side of the road until BAM! But it wasn’t time for Stone to die.
A couple of clicks later, and Stone was back on her side of the road. For the next minute or so, Phame played with the SUV’s controls, stopping it, lurching it backward, speeding it up then stopping it again and reversing direction. This was fun. But time to return control . . . Another couple of seconds and the Tahoe was back in Stone’s command.
Tonight had been to show the chief deputy she wasn’t in charge, Phame was.
28
Alex fell in behind Nathan’s pickup, but a mile down the road had her rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t realized she was so tired. And Gram’s carb-laden supper made it hard to fight the lethargy seeping into her mind.
Shaking her head cleared it somewhat. She frowned as they turned onto the road to the high school. Alex had never driven the Chevy SUV, but she hadn’t expected the steering to be so stiff and hard to turn.
The vehicle jerked to the left, crossing the center line. No! She slammed on the brakes.
No response! Her stomach knotted as she fought the wheel. Seconds later, the Tahoe returned to the right side of the road. She released a tight breath only to catch it again when the Tahoe steered crossed the center line again.
Twin beams appeared in the road ahead. Alex wrestled with the wheel, fighting for control. The SUV continued on its deadly path.
The lights drew nearer. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. She jerked the steering wheel, and it suddenly freed up, overcorrecting. The top-heavy SUV rocked, threatening to flip as she held on to the steering wheel.
