Dead End Read online

  For a while, she thought their relationship had finally improved. Two months ago, their boss, Solomon Slattery, special agent in charge of the St. Louis office, had ordered her to take a vacation. He told her she needed to rest. Recharge. Although she didn’t agree, she had no choice. Solomon sent her to stay in his cabin on the Lake of the Ozarks. Right after she arrived, she’d been pulled into helping with a local investigation. Once that was over, Noah joined her for the remainder of the two weeks she was there. They’d had fun, and Noah had seemed more relaxed around her. That was in June. But now, in August, Noah’s aloofness had returned.

  Solomon liked to pair them together as much as possible. He saw Noah as a protector, someone who would keep Kaely from going too far—not that it had worked. Her boss was under the delusion that she was his second daughter, a notion she’d tried to dissuade him from more than once.

  She realized she’d been chewing on her pen—a bad habit. Her brother, Jason, had given her a set of pens with Scripture on them. This one read I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. She set it next to her keyboard and scrolled down so she could finish reading the article. Then she locked her hands behind her head and leaned back, staring at the computer screen. Part of her wanted to know what was going on in Des Moines. Another part of her wanted nothing to do with it. Her memories were still too raw. Too painful.

  When her phone rang, she jumped but then picked it up. Solomon.

  “I need to see you in my office,” he said in a flat tone.

  Kaely was somewhat taken aback by what she heard in his voice, and she tensed. Could this be about Des Moines? He probably wanted her to hear about those bodies from him. Too late.

  “Okay, on my way,” she said before hanging up. She stood and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. When she slipped it on, she made sure the collar was down. Then she checked her hair. Her auburn curls were pulled back in a bun, but as usual, several strands had escaped. She wondered if she should stop by the restroom and fix that, but when Solomon called you to his office, you went immediately. She doubted he actually counted the minutes it took people to show up, but if he did, she wouldn’t be surprised.

  When she reached his reception area, his administrative assistant, Grace, smiled. “He’s waiting for you,” she said, gesturing toward a closed door. Kaely nodded and approached his office, trying to squelch an odd sense of apprehension. She quickly smoothed her slacks, then knocked before she heard Solomon call out. “Come in, Kaely.”

  When she stepped inside, she was surprised to see Noah there, sitting in a chair positioned in front of Solomon’s massive desk. Another man sat next to him. Although she didn’t recognize him, he seemed familiar, and she was almost overwhelmed by a sudden sense of foreboding. Why would she react that way to a stranger? It didn’t make sense. She raised her eyebrows as she looked at Noah. A slight hitch in his shoulders told her he had no idea why they were there.

  Solomon nodded toward a chair in the corner of the room. She pulled it up next to Noah, and quickly sat down, curious to discover the reason for their summons. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her jangled nerves.

  “This is Police Chief Everett Sawyer from Des Moines,” Solomon said.

  Kaely’s body stiffened. “I remember you now.” Her voice sounded strange to her.

  “I wondered if you would,” Sawyer said. “It’s been a long time. You were . . . what? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

  “Fourteen,” she said, trying to keep her emotions in check. She turned to look at Solomon. “Chief Sawyer was the lead detective working the case that involved . . . my father.”

  Solomon’s bushy eyebrows shot up, and he turned to his guest. “You have a lot of experience with the Ed Oliphant case, then?”

  “Yes. Probably more than anyone else.”

  “The FBI was called in to assist you,” Kaely said.

  Sawyer nodded. “And we were grateful. One of your profilers—sorry, one of your behavioral analysts—came up with a profile so accurate it helped us nab him. I believe a lot more women would have died if it hadn’t been for his help.” He smiled at Kaely. “When I heard you’d joined the FBI, I was relieved. You didn’t allow what happened to destroy you. Instead, you decided to fight back. It was a brave decision. Good for you.”

  Kaely felt her cheeks flush. Everett Sawyer had been there when she was questioned about her father, and she’d lumped him in with the people who’d frightened her after her father was arrested. She was confused and unsure about what was going on back then. It didn’t feel real. More like a nightmare she kept waiting to wake up from.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say. She turned to look at Solomon. His weathered face gave the impression he was always a little worried about something, but today his lips were a thin line, and his crow’s feet were deeper than normal.

  Kaely waited for her boss to say something, but he was unusually quiet. Chief Sawyer refused to meet her gaze, sitting with his arms crossed. He was definitely defensive. The men’s silence filled the room like some kind of noxious gas slowly poisoning the very air Kaely breathed.

  “What’s going on?” Noah finally asked, obviously as confused as Kaely was.

  Solomon frowned at Sawyer as if he wanted him to answer Noah’s question, but Sawyer didn’t respond. Finally, Solomon took a deep breath and directed his attention to Kaely. “Have you heard about the bodies found in Des Moines?”

  Kaely nodded.

  Solomon clasped his hands together, his knuckles white with pressure. “The . . . the MO is . . . Well, the MO is the same as your father’s. Strangled. The hands and feet tied with red ribbon.”

  Kaely frowned at him. “It’s a copycat killer. Those facts were available to the public.” She studied him for a moment. The tension she saw in his body and his expression hadn’t lessened at all. There was something else. Something he wasn’t telling her.

  “Just say it,” she said, feeling annoyed at his reticence.

  He glanced at Sawyer and then took another breath. “They found a piece of wire in the hand of the first body found.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

  “It was a wire angel,” Solomon said, his voice softer now. “Just like the one your father always left behind. Exactly the same. But that part of his MO was kept quiet. Never shared with the public.”

  “You’re right,” Chief Sawyer said. “We do have a copycat killer. But this guy knows more than he should.”

  “A lot of people had access to information about my father,” Kaely said. “Anyone associated with the case. The police, the FBI. The ME’s office.”

  “Under normal circumstances I would come to the same conclusion, Agent Quinn. But not in this case.”

  Kaely turned his comment over in her mind and found it incredibly naïve. Her father could have told someone in prison. “You said all the women had been strangled?”

  “Yes. The bodies all showed evidence of strangulation. Broken bones in the neck. They all had red ribbons as well.” He locked eyes with Kaely. “And they all had an angel in their hands. An exact match to the angels your father fashioned. Even the same kind of wire he used.” He readjusted himself in the chair as if he were uncomfortable. “There’s something else, though. Something we want to keep to ourselves.” He cleared his throat. “The folks at the ME’s lab found something missed at the scene. A piece of paper in the mouths of all the newer victims. In a plastic baggie.”

  Kaely frowned at him. “A piece of paper?”

  Sawyer nodded. Kaely waited for more, but Sawyer hesitated. She was so tense that pain pounded in her head. “And something was written on it?” she asked, trying to force a response.

  “Yes, but typed. It said, ‘Deuteronomy 5:9: “For I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God—”’”

  “‘Punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me,’” Kaely finished for him.

  Sawyer’s
eyes widened in obvious surprise. “You know it?”

  “Of course. If you were the child of a ruthless serial killer, wouldn’t you?”

  He ignored her question. “Look, because of the angel, we’re convinced your father has something to do with this. Of course, he won’t admit to it. Won’t say anything. Not a word. It’s like trying to talk to a brick wall.” He shrugged. “We have no idea why the Scripture was added, but . . .”

  “You think it’s a message to me?”

  Sawyer looked at Solomon, whose eyes were fixed on him as if he were trying to send the police chief some kind of mental message. He finally broke his gaze and turned his attention back to Kaely. “Des Moines authorities need to know if your father is directing someone to follow in his footsteps,” he said. “Getting him to talk might be the only way to stop these killings.”

  “I still don’t understand why you think he has anything to do with this,” Kaely said. “He’s locked up. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “There’s more. Quite a few bodies were buried in that rail yard. Some of them were new, but some of them were old. Twenty years old. And they all had a wire angel in their hands. The remnants of red ribbon. Their hyoid bones broken.”

  Kaely froze. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m telling you we found more of Ed Oliphant’s victims. And no one else could have told this copycat killer where they were.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kaely asked, unable to keep anger from her voice. “My father killed fourteen women. No more.”

  “I’m sorry,” Solomon said, his voice low, “but they’re definitely his. Everything matches up perfectly, and they were killed during the time he was active. They couldn’t belong to anyone else.”

  Kaely couldn’t believe this was happening. She turned to Sawyer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

  The chief seemed to be steeling himself for what he had to say. “We need you to talk with your father.”

  Three

  Kaely could only stare at the police chief, trying to understand what he’d just said. At first his words made no sense. Then as she realized what he was asking, her body trembled as though it had a mind of its own. She barely felt Noah reach over and touch her arm.

  “You . . . you expect me to . . . interview my father? You think he’ll share something with me he won’t with you?” She stood. “You’ve got the wrong idea. My father doesn’t care about me—or anyone. He’s a psychopath. Ed Oliphant’s world revolves around himself.”

  “We’re out of options,” Sawyer said. “We’ve tried everything. He just won’t talk. Look, I realize this might not work, but we’re grasping at straws. I don’t have to remind you that women are dying.”

  Kaely pushed back a rush of anger. “I understand the implications, but he isn’t going to break down and confess to me. I told you, he’s a psychopath. They have no remorse, and they don’t have the ability to learn from experience. It’s impossible for this man to feel guilt or ever accept responsibility for the vile deeds he committed.” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to find the strength to continue. “Ed has never shown one shred of remorse for what he’s done. Not toward the families of the women he killed and not toward his own family. The family he almost destroyed.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to control the shakiness in her voice. “I’ve done a lot for the Bureau. But this?” She put her hand on Solomon’s desk to steady herself. “No. You can’t ask this of me. It’s too much, and it would be a waste of time.”

  “Sit down, Kaely,” Solomon said, but with a gentle tone. “Of course, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But I don’t like this . . . message. Maybe it’s not directed to you, but it could be. It worries me.”

  “But if it’s a message to me from my father, why would you think he would talk to me about these killings?”

  “To be honest, we think our copycat may have added the Scripture himself,” Sawyer said. “Prison officials say they’ve never heard your father express any malice toward you or your brother.”

  “Serial killers rarely change their MOs, you know, although it’s happened,” Kaely said. “It’s a pride thing.”

  Sawyer nodded. “And if your father isn’t behind this addition to his MO, he may break away from his protégé and give us what we need. We want you to ask him about the Scripture. Coming from you, it might mean more. Get the reaction we’re hoping for.”

  “What does Omaha think?” Kaely asked.

  “They aren’t sure,” Solomon said. “None of us are. You’re certainly not mentioned by name in those notes. Maybe our unknown subject is referring to something—or someone—that relates only to him.”

  “Of course, there’s your brother,” Sawyer said.

  Kaely’s body went cold again. “I didn’t think. I should have—”

  “Don’t worry,” Solomon said. “Omaha will coordinate with Colorado. They’ll keep an eye on Jason.”

  How could she have forgotten her own brother? Could he be in danger?

  As she lowered herself back into her chair, she looked at Noah. Kaely needed his strength, but she saw only compassion in his expression. For some reason it angered her. She didn’t want empathy right now. She needed the power to face this. Inside, she cried out to God, praying He would strengthen her. She was a professional, but right now she wasn’t acting like one. Leave it to her father to make her feel weak and frightened.

  “Solomon, if I thought it would help, I would consider this no matter how hard it might be for me. But trust me, I have no influence over my father. None.”

  “Look,” Sawyer said, “I know this isn’t fair. Asking you to do this. But we’re out of options. The copycat hasn’t given us anything. No DNA. No fingerprints. Nothing but some tire tracks and footprints that lead us nowhere. We’ve reached a dead end.”

  “How many bodies?” Kaely asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  Sawyer glanced at Solomon before turning back to her. “Fifteen. We believe nine of the remains were your father’s old victims. You know, we always suspected there were more. We had reports of missing women that fit the general description of the victims we found, but we couldn’t prove anything without bodies. Besides, the so-called Raggedy Man left his kills in plain sight as if he were proud of what he’d done. He wanted people to see his . . . work.” Sawyer shook his head. “We weren’t looking for bodies buried somewhere. It appears we made a grave mistake.”

  Kaely had a sudden urge to laugh at his inappropriate pun, but nothing about it was funny. Her nerves were knocking her a little off-balance.

  “After all this time, finding DNA on or near those bodies to match your father’s will be next to impossible,” Solomon said. “But as Chief Sawyer says, the age of the older remains is correct for him to be the killer. Adding the fact that there was never any indication he had an accomplice, the Omaha office believes these victims are his.” He drummed his fingers on his desktop, a habit when he was upset.

  “What can you tell me about the newer bodies?” Kaely asked.

  “Not much so far.” Sawyer leaned forward. “Like I said, same MO, but this guy is being very careful. Probably wearing gloves. Everything’s been sent to the lab at Quantico. The only DNA so far comes from the victims—and some incidental transfer. Nothing we can link to the UNSUB.” He hesitated. “There is one more difference in your father’s MO and this guy’s, though.”

  Kaely looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  “We don’t think it’s significant,” Sawyer said, “but your father used chloroform to subdue his victims. This guy prefers a stun gun. Easier, more reliable. Less struggling.”

  Actually, that made sense. The method was still the same, though. Disable the victims so you can control them before you choke them to death. This was just a modern revision in the technique of robbing a human being of life. Kaely took one more deep breath and refocused her attention. “At this moment, then, you can’t prove Ed has anything to do with
this.”

  Sawyer seemed to study her for a moment. “No, right now we can’t prove it, but I’m convinced the older remains belong to The Raggedy Man. And as I said, no one else could have told the copycat killer where he’d buried these bodies.”

  “Please don’t use a stupid moniker to describe this sick killer,” Kaely said, her tone sharp. “My father’s name is Ed Oliphant. This guy has a name too. Don’t glorify either one of them by calling them something other than what they are—brutal killers. Degenerates who prey on defenseless women. Men who not only destroy their victims’ lives but also the lives of the people who loved them. The murdered women all had years and years in front of them. Marriage. Children who will never be born. Grandchildren they will never enjoy. These murderers are monsters.”

  Kaely fought to control her outburst, but her rant came from an emotional wound never completely healed. God had brought her this far, but somewhere deep inside, the pain caused by her father’s hideous deeds still ate at her like a cancerous lesion that refused to be excised. She looked at Solomon, who studied her as if he’d never seen her before.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry, sir,” she said. Then she turned to Sawyer. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to—”

  “That’s enough, Kaely,” Solomon said, again gently. “You’re not a robot. You’ve been through an ordeal most of us could never understand.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’m fine.” She swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. She might not be a robot, but she was an FBI agent, and she was determined to act like one. “How long have the new bodies been there?”