Scene of the Crime: Baton Rouge. Carla Cassidy. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carla Cassidy
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные детективы
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the perp would maintain contact. It was often through some sort of communication that they got clues and found leads to follow in difficult cases.

      At exactly six-thirty she left her small house and headed into work. Although it was only a fifteen-minute drive, she’d rather be a little early than late.

      As she drove, she carefully kept her thoughts away from Alex. She had no idea how the past two years might have changed him and didn’t want to remember the man he’d been when she’d walked out on him.

      She’d have to walk a fine line to remain strictly on a partner level and not allow herself to fall into anything personal. She couldn’t emotionally afford to make a second mistake where he was concerned.

      The Baton Rouge FBI field office was located in an unassuming two-story building nestled between a dry cleaning store and a bank. She drove around to the back of the building where there was a large parking lot and pulled into one of the empty spaces. She grabbed the file folder that had kept her up reading reports and looking at photos far too late the night before, and then left her car.

      The sultry morning air pressed oppressively against her chest. Or was it just the anxiety of the case and the uncertainty of working closely with her ex-husband?

      The bottom floor of the building was dedicated to computer rooms and bookkeeping; the basement held storage and a cafeteria. It was on the second floor that agents actively worked at their own desks.

      This morning she passed by her neat and tidy desk to head down the hallway to the conference room that now housed the task force. The scent of fresh coffee greeted her as she stepped into the room, finding Alex and Nicholas Cutter already there.

      A large coffeepot had been set up on a side table, along with several boxes of doughnuts. The cliché of law enforcement at all levels. But Georgina knew as well as anyone that the sugar rush of a doughnut and the caffeine of a hot cup of coffee often provided the energy needed to get through long hours.

      She smiled at the two men as she entered and sat in the same chair she’d sat in the day before. While Nicholas looked energized and eager, Alex’s face wore the faint lines of fatigue. Like her, he’d probably been up most of the night going over the files of the previous kidnappings.

      Before either of the two men had a chance to greet her, other members of the team began to arrive and soon the room was full. Once they’d all found seats, Alex eyed them with a weary resignation. “How many of you saw the news this morning that broke the story that a seven-man, one-woman task force had been formed to investigate the disappearances of FBI agents?”

      “I saw it and I’d like to know who leaked it,” Frank said irritably. “We hadn’t had much publicity about these disappearances until now.”

      “At least it didn’t list our names,” Jeff said.

      “You know any reporter worth his salt will have our names by the end of the day,” Nicholas added.

      “If I find out anyone in this room leaked anything to the press, I’ll have your job.” Alex’s voice didn’t hold a threat, but rather held a determined promise. “Now, let’s get to the updates.”

      The first came from Tim and Jeff, who had spent the day before with both paper maps and working on the internet to locate vacant buildings that were isolated enough for seven people to be held captive.

      “There’s dozens of places,” Tim said. “There are abandoned warehouses and old factories all over the surrounding areas and within the city.”

      “We’re making a list of addresses and working through city records to find out owner names,” Jeff said. “But it’s going to take at least a week or two for us to get them all and even then there might be some places that slip through the cracks.”

      “I’ll check with Director Miller and see if we can get some help from the local authorities to physically check out the places on the list you’re compiling,” Alexander said.

      It wasn’t unusual for the FBI to occasionally work with the Baton Rouge Police Department when it came to a job too big for the agents to handle alone. The police would be able to cruise by the buildings and check them out in person, lightening the manpower needed for the actual footwork of the investigative end of things for the FBI.

      Despite the tired lines that creased his forehead and made the small wrinkles around his eyes look deeper, Georgina couldn’t help but notice that Alex hadn’t changed much in the two years they’d been apart. His shoulders were just as broad, his stomach as flat and the air of command that emanated from him came naturally.

      He was born to lead, and if it hadn’t been for the Gilmer case, he would have led most of the difficult investigations that had come along in the past couple of years. She knew he’d been asked to be lead in other cases but had declined, indicating a lack of faith in himself. She was glad he’d finally decided to step up once again.

      There was no question that if she allowed it, she would be attracted to him again. All the qualities that she’d fallen in love with in the first place he still possessed. But she couldn’t allow it and besides, he’d given no indication that he wanted it.

      Although there had been little change in him physically in the last two years, she had no idea what changes had occurred on the inside. The one thing she knew for sure was that nothing had changed her. She’d been wrong for him then and she’d be wrong for him again.

      She tightened her fingers around the pen she held, telling herself it was vital she maintain her objectivity where he was concerned. Alex was nothing more than her partner, her immediate boss, and that’s the way it would stay for as long as they knew each other.

      When Jeff and Tim had finished their report, Alex moved on to Nicholas and Frank. “We’ve got nothing,” Frank said, his brown eyes dark with frustration. “We went through social media, used Google on all the names of the missing people, used Google on the FBI agents, and nothing popped up to tie them together other than the fact that they are all agents.”

      “Actually, I found something,” Nicholas said, a touch of smugness in his voice as his partner looked at him in obvious surprise. “There’s an author who has a new book out and the book includes sections about Sam Connelly, Amberly Caldwell and Jackson.”

      A touch of new disdain swept through Georgina. It was obvious Nicholas had blindsided his partner, kept the information to himself so that he would get all the glory of the find. Nicholas Cutter was definitely not a team player and that was a big strike against him as far as Georgina was concerned.

      “Continue,” Alexander’s voice was like a gunshot in the room.

      “The author’s name is Michelle Davison and the book is titled Heinous Crimes / Men of Honor.” Nicholas sat up straighter in his chair, obviously pleased to be the center of attention. “She has a section about Sam Connelly, who was head investigator when four children were kidnapped and he successfully recovered them. Amberly Caldwell is showcased for her work on what was called the Dream Catcher murders in Mystic Lake. She also has the details of the case Jackson worked a year ago...the Twilight Killer.”

      As much as Georgina hated Nicholas’s showboating, his information sent a rush of excitement through her. This was the first definitive tie they’d found among the three.

      “Do we have an address for Michelle Davison?” Alexander asked.

      “She lives in New Orleans, but I spoke to her literary agent last night and Michelle is set up to have a book signing right here at the Baton Rouge College bookstore at seven tonight,” Nicholas said.

      “Georgina and I will attend the book signing and do an initial interview with her,” Alexander said, ignoring how Nicholas’s smile fell into a pouty frown. He’d obviously hoped to do the interview himself.

      One of the agents had moved a box of doughnuts into the center of the table and Frank reached for one. “I don’t see how a woman writer could have anything to do with kidnapping seven people. There’s no way I believe we’re dealing with a female