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4
When Logan, Alex, and Kaely arrived at the Montgomery County police station, they were led to a conference room toward the back of a busy squad room. Although this would be a joint task force, the police chief wasn’t setting up a command post in a separate location. At this time, no other special units would join them. The BAU was just there to provide a profile to help the police track down their unknown subject.
Most of the looks they got as they passed through were friendly, but Logan noticed that a few officers didn’t seem too pleased to see them. They had no reason for resentment. Their chief had asked for the FBI’s help. In a high-profile case like this, the FBI had to be invited to assist. Only when it was a matter of national security, involved interstate travel or interstate communication, or was some other kind of federal case would the FBI step in. Only those circumstances made the situation their purview.
Most law enforcement officers tracking a violent unknown subject actually wanted their help. But there were always some who didn’t like the implication that they couldn’t find the UNSUB without the FBI’s help. In Logan’s mind, finding criminals before they hurt innocent people was the only important motivation. Of course, it worked both ways. He had little respect for agents who looked down on local law enforcement. Those agents didn’t seem to last long.
After escorting them to the conference room, the officer who’d shown them the way closed the door and left. They were alone. Logan glanced at his watch.
“Are you wondering about Monty?” Alex asked.
“Yeah.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After selecting Monty’s number, he listened to the phone ring over and over. When Monty’s voice mail finally kicked in, Logan left a quick message. “Hey, where are you? I know you’re afraid of your grandmother, but maybe you should be a little more concerned about Jeff.” He disconnected the call and shook his head. “Hope everything’s okay.”
“He’ll be here,” Alex said as they all sat down at a large table. “He’s been late before.”
Logan was certain Monty had taken his personal car instead of the vehicle supplied by the Bureau. He often drove the unreliable 1999 Volvo his grandmother had given him. Logan had advised him more than once to get rid of it, but Monty refused. He didn’t want to hurt his grandmother’s feelings. Maybe today he’d finally face reality.
The door to the room swung open, and three people walked in. They sat down at the table before saying anything. The man at the head was obviously the Montgomery County police chief. A tall, thin man with a hawk-like nose, he carried himself as if he expected deference. Logan was pretty sure he got it.
The man on his left was short and stocky and looked to be in his thirties. He seemed tense. The woman who sat on the chief’s right was also tall. Almost as tall as Logan. Her blond hair was pulled back and worn in a bun. She was older. Maybe early forties. She had a friendly face, and her hazel eyes had an intense quality. She wore black slacks with a white blouse and matching black jacket. She was also the only one who smiled at the group.
“Thanks for coming,” the police chief said. “I’m Chief Joshua Gorman.” He looked to his left. “This is Detective Ben Cooper.” Then he looked to his right. “And this is Detective Julie Palmer. She’s the lead detective assigned to this case.”
“Please call me Julie,” she said.
Cooper stayed silent. Detective Cooper it was.
Logan, Alex, and Kaely introduced themselves. Then Kaely said, “You’re concerned that you might have a serial?”
Chief Gorman shrugged. “Not sure. But whoever gave Davis that envelope wrote a number one on the back of a page from his book. Is he trying to tell us there’s a number two and three? I don’t know, but I think we need to make that assumption just in case, don’t you?”
Logan wasn’t so sure this was a serial killer, but he agreed with the chief. They didn’t want to wait around for a second death to find out.
“We’re looking at people who might have had a problem with Mr. Davis,” Gorman said. “With all the books he’s written about his cases, the list seems long. He helped put away a lot of criminals.”
“I’m not sure that will prove helpful,” Alex said.
Gorman frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the people he profiled are either dead or in prison,” Kaely interjected. “These were very violent criminals. Not the kind to be paroled.”
“That’s true,” Logan added. “It doesn’t hurt to check, though. I also recommend you look into Davis’s personal life. We can provide you with a copy of our Victimology Checklist. It will help you when interviewing friends, family, neighbors, and people he’s worked with down through the years. I’d offer the list to the police in Houston too, so they can assist from that end. If you work together, you can gather information faster.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
“But Davis retired years ago, right?” Kaely said, looking at Logan.
“How long ago?” Julie added. “Isn’t retirement from the FBI mandatory at fifty-five?”
“It’s fifty-seven now, or after twenty years of service,” Logan said. “Davis was seventy-six when he died. He retired at fifty-five. It would be unusual for someone to wait more than twenty years to seek revenge, but all this time he’s kept his hand in by writing quite a few books and speaking at events around the country. He may have even consulted privately. Probably need to check for files at his residence or an office if he has one. Who knows who he may have angered over the years?”
“We thought of that,” Gorman said. “His wife says no to consulting. Just writing and speaking.”
“We’re already investigating,” Julie said, “but where do you think we should concentrate our efforts?”
“Look at Davis’s life in the last couple of years,” Logan said. “Ask those same family members, friends, neighbors, and associates if he’s had run-ins with anyone.”
Julie was writing notes in a small spiral notebook while Cooper used his phone. Logan liked Julie’s style. He was old school too. With a notebook, he could quickly flip through pages of notes. He’d tried using a program on his phone but eventually stopped for two reasons. First, invariably someone would call, throwing him off. The second reason should be clear to everyone in the room. Phones could be hacked, but anyone wanting his notebook would have to go through him first. He had faith he could defend himself—and his notes.
