Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“I’m going to look around,” Ellis says.
I push to my feet and watch him walk away.
He was in New York when Murphy died, and restricted all my familiar resources. He was here when Marie died, and he won’t allow me to conduct even a basic investigation.
I thought he was nervous over being a potential target. Maybe he’s nervous because he’s guilty. And maybe, just maybe, I was right to pull my service weapon and wrong to put it away. We’re also the only ones in the house. If this is a setup and he intends to come at me, I’m okay with that.
Killing killers has become what I do.
I vowed to start arresting people instead of killing them, but old habits are hard to break.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I find Director Ellis sitting at the victim’s desk with his face down and hands in his hair. He seems to sense my presence and he glances up, his eyes bloodshot, expression strained. “She was a friend. I’d known her for years. That’s why I couldn’t stand there over her dead body. I should be able to. I’m the damn Director of Homeland Security, but I couldn’t do it. I can’t.”
I’m not a touchy-feely person by any means, but I’m pretty good at ranking bullshit tears and the real things. His are real, but guilt can be a powerful emotion. So is fear of what you have become, which I know far better than I do guilt.
“Homeland isn’t homicide,” I say. “I’m sure you knew that when you called me in to investigate.”
“In the role of director, we offend or upset people every single day. The suspects are many.”
“That’s why we need evidence, and your need to shut out the press shuts us out of our own investigations. I need case files, I need witnesses, I need intel on staff that crossed agencies. I need stuff. Lots of it. What’s in the desk?”
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
I plan to see that for myself, but first I decide to go at him head on, not mincing words.
“You asked if he was here watching.”
“Yes. Why?”
“Maybe you are.”
“What does that mean?”
“You were in New York when Murphy died and here when she died. You want to explain that to me?”
“I didn’t kill them.”
“Will you take a lie detector test?”
“What good would that do? I’m trained to beat the test.”
He’s a trained liar. That pretty much sums up why he’s on the suspect list.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lilah
Ellis and his proclamation that he knows how to beat a lie detector test, which basically declares himself a professional liar, is not comment-worthy. Sometimes the most impact comes from what you don’t say. He knows he’s on my radar, and if he’s guilty, he’ll feel my suspicion to his bones and contemplate some stupid shit that will blow back on him, not me.
“Tell them to come get the body,” I say, because the idea that Marie Rodriguez is just lying on the floor like that for no good reason does not sit well with me. Every once in a while, I remind myself I have a human side. “I’m going to assume you’ve alerted the directors who’ve managed to live through today they might be next?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“Of course,” I say, and leave him there in the office.
I search the kitchen and living areas with little to show for my efforts, and no sign of Ellis, whatever that means. Maybe he doesn’t need to search the place. He knows what is here and he’s simply monitoring my efforts.
I climb the stairs in search of the master bedroom, which is always where people keep their secrets and stories, ready to call the dark web a bunch of meaningless crap. The only thing that stops me from doing so is all ideas are good ideas when it stirs an investigative direction. And where there is smoke, there is fire. There’s denial going on when assassins like to claim the job because it’s cred for new, high-paying gigs. If no one’s claiming the job, it lends to the idea of someone new to the masses.
To me, it supports my theory that these are revenge killings, not contract hires.
There are plenty of people, including Ellis and Adams, with the skills to kill at this level of competence. Ellis was a Navy SEAL and Adams was ex-military, special ops. They both know covert actions in a hands-on way.
The main bedroom is to the right and decorated rather coldly. Marie was not a girly woman, nor one to gather useless belongings. Her bed set is basic navy. Her décor is nonexistent. Her possessions include clothes and basic necessities and not much more. A lot like Murphy. If I believed this was a serial killer, I’d start to profile these victims as no-nonsense authority figures, but I don’t think that’s what this is about at all.