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“That’s what I’m thinking,” Melanie said. She cleared her throat. “I know where he works.” She stopped. She did not reveal how she’d acquired the information, but upper-level officers had access to the personnel database.
“You do? But how?” Gilmour was completely absorbed.
Patterson nodded for Melanie to continue, but she knew not to reveal that her source was their boss. “I spotted him outside one of the DOD offices.” When she finished detailing her story and her theory, Gilmour was baffled. “He’s one of us?”
“Looks that way.” Melanie nodded. She wanted to be as transparent as possible, but she tilted the story to protect her informant, so to speak. “I had the day off. I was in a café getting a coffee. After I spotted him, I decided to spend the rest of the day staking out his office just to be sure it was him.”
“And you believe it’s the guy,” Gilmour commented.
“Absolutely. I’d recognize that slightly cocky walk from a mile away.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Gilmour asked.
“We need to get his DNA,” Melanie answered. Patterson was letting her run the meeting. She certainly knew more than he did.
“That’s going to be tricky,” Gilmour said.
“Not if I have help.” She gave him one of her intense stares that said, It’s you, buddy.
Melanie laid out her strategy.
Gilmour and Melanie would go to the cafeteria the next day.
They would enter a few minutes apart and go in different directions, ultimately arriving at the cafeteria. They would not show any signs of familiarity and would keep their distance from each other. Gilmour would insinuate himself at Howell’s lunch table, pretending he knew him from the past. He’d mention the Bugle Pub near Quantico, where Howell and his colleagues used to hang out after work. Melanie would take a seat far enough away not to be spotted, but close enough to watch Howell’s moves and what he ate. When finished, Gilmour would walk Howell out of the cafeteria. Once out of their line of sight, Melanie would fish his lunch debris from the trash. If anyone asked what she was doing, she would claim her bracelet had fallen off when she put her scraps in the bin. She would have to act quickly, before his refuse was covered by someone else’s. If he hadn’t changed his preference for beverages, there would be a can of ginger ale.
Patterson finally spoke. “When you enter the building, tell security you are there to visit Mr. George Remedy.”
Melanie tilted her head. “George Remedy?”
Patterson smirked. “Code word. How long have you been working here? It’s a name that’s used to gain entry into other departmental buildings. As far as anyone is concerned, George Remedy has an office on the fifth floor.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Do what you would normally do if you had an appointment with Mr. Remedy. You go to the fifth floor, tell the receptionist who you are there to see, and she will show you down a hallway with a secured exit to the stairwell. She’ll buzz the door, and then you can proceed to the fourth floor. Once you get to the fourth floor, exit the stairwell, and take the elevator to the lower level. The cafeteria doors will be to the right. Remember to enter the building several minutes apart. I suggest whoever gets there first wait on the fifth floor to be sure both of you are in the building.”
Melanie was taking copious notes, not that she needed them. She had the instructions rooted in her mind.
“Gilmour, after lunch, you’ll walk Howell to the elevator and get in with him. He should hit the button for the third floor. You’ll get out in the lobby and exit the building. Mel, once you retrieve the evidence, get out of the building as quickly as possible and meet Gilmour at your designated spot.”
“Question.” Melanie raised her pen. “If I can’t locate the soda can, should I take the entire bag? Or find a place to dump it out?”
Patterson looked at Melanie. “I am sure you can convince someone to find a place for you to sift through it. I don’t think they want anyone traipsing around a government office building carrying a bag of cafeteria trash.”
“I have a cheap bangle bracelet I will gladly sacrifice to toss in the can.” She pinched her lips. “Gloves. I’ll play it by ear once I see how many people are around. If it looks like I can grab something without attracting any attention, I’ll use my own. If not, I’ll ask one of the staff for a pair and do my lost bracelet routine.”
Patterson slapped his hand on his desk. “Sounds like you have this buttoned up. Any questions?”
Gilmour looked at Melanie with admiration and amazement. “Not me. Drake’s got it under control.”
Patterson had a few last words. “Be careful. If he’s our guy, we want to nail him. But if he gets wind we’re on to him, he’ll be a Gone Elvis.” Patterson was referring to the term for people who disappear.
“Roger that,” Gilmour and Melanie chimed in together. They left Patterson’s office and continued to make their plan for the next day. Melanie knew she couldn’t use a disguise, or she would never get past any of the security guards. She had to be stealthy.
* * *
The following morning, Gilmour and Melanie met in front of the café near Howell’s building. Howell arrived right on time, walking and talking with the same two women from the day before. She surmised the woman without the boyfriend was most likely his next target. This would be within his kill window; the “anniversary” was looming. They waited until eleven to enter the building, with Gilmour leading. Melanie checked her watch. Ten minutes later, she was at the security desk asking for Mr. Remedy. The security guard had her face a security camera, took her photo, and scanned her lanyard. Not a hiccup. When she got off the elevator, there was a single desk with a woman sitting in front of a monitor. There were no other chairs or people.
It was a bit eerie.
“Good morning. I have an appointment with Mr. Remedy.” Melanie smiled.
“Yes.” The woman pressed a button that electronically locked the main entrance to the reception area. She stood, expressionless. “This way, please.”
