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Chapter One
Brooklyn Sloane
May 2014
Monday — 12:00 pm
The clock tower stood tall and resolute in its duty as the university’s iconic landmark. Its aged brick façade had borne witness to generations of students who had passed beneath its shadow. As expected, the large black hands had reached their destination and triggered the loud chimes, resembling that of a heartbeat counting down to the end of the school year.
“The passage of time is a finicky thing, isn’t it?”
Brooklyn Sloane made sure to conceal her reaction to the man’s question. The male subject had been monitoring her from a distance for the past ten minutes. He’d waited until she’d been alone to approach her. Such conduct, along with the folder in his hand, told her that his reasoning was personal rather than professional.
“Yes,” Brook replied cautiously as she leaned back in her chair. The cluster of wrought-iron tables was inside a small courtyard outside the university’s cafeteria. The private area provided tranquility that one couldn’t find inside the numerous buildings on campus. It appeared as if she wasn’t going to attain the solitude needed to finish her lecture notes. “I’m sorry to say that you’ve wasted your time, Agent…”
“Harden. Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Harden.” He was a wise enough man not to offer his hand. Instead, he glanced down at the chair opposite her. Only when she nodded her consent did he pull the seat out from under the table and make himself comfortable. “I’d apologize for my first name, but my mother might take offense.”
“Why don’t I save us both precious minutes of our day, Agent Harden.” Brook casually placed her pen on top of the tablet of paper. She ensured that her tone held no animosity for the interruption. “I haven’t heard from my brother since he murdered Cara Jordan. If we’re being factual, I didn’t actually see or hear from him on that particular day, either. Everything you need to know regarding Jacob Matthew Walsh can be read in his case file.”
Brook reached for her travel mug, which was currently full of freshly brewed coffee from the cafeteria. She always used her noon hour to go over her lecture notes for her two o’clock class. Agent Harden could have been informed of her daily routine by almost anyone on campus. She had her own personal reasons for keeping to a strict schedule, but there were times that such a routine worked against her.
“I’m sorry that you’ve wasted your time, Agent Harden.”
“There’s that word again…time. In an investigation, we chase those precious few minutes like a shadow. It’s elusive. Always shifting. And just when you think you’ve got it, it slips through your fingers like little grains of sand. I keep an hourglass on my desk just to remind me of how valuable each second of the day can be during an active case.” Agent Harden took his focus off the clock tower to meet her gaze. “I’m not here about your brother, Miss Sloane.”
Agent Harden’s reason for seeking her out might not have to do with Jacob, but the federal agent hadn’t been surprised to hear her brother’s name, either.
Harden knew about her past, even with the change to her surname.
The local police who had been working on an investigation into the murders of two young women on campus had done their homework. She’d expected nothing less, and she’d even anticipated questions regarding her brother, but an arrest in the campus murders had already been made. There should have been no reason for the police to go digging into her past after the fact.
“I’m sure that the very essences of the cases that you investigate are often obscured by the passage of time.” Brook allowed herself to sip her coffee now that Agent Harden had all but confirmed his visit wasn’t personal. “What is it that I can do for you, Agent Harden?”
Brook was done presuming anything about the man’s visit. She wasn’t comfortable with having captured the attention of the FBI. If she could go back to the start of the school year, she never would have chosen an active killer as the subject of a mock profile. It was too late to rectify the oversight, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“I’m friends with Detective Tunney,” Agent Harden revealed as he rested his hand on top of the manila folder. “He brought to my attention a profile that you drafted for one of your lectures. I read it over, and you somehow managed to profile the killer so well that an arrest was made in the murders of Josie Gaston and Kari Wisocky. A profile, I might add, that rivals one crafted by a federal criminal profiler.”
Brook merely nodded at the compliment, still unsure of the direction Agent Harden was taking the conversation. While he’d asserted that his interest in her wasn’t regarding her brother, she wasn’t the trusting type.
Agent Harden wanted something from her, or he would never have sought her out.
“Have you eaten?”
The question came out of nowhere.
Brook blinked a few times before realizing that Agent Harden had purposefully wanted to throw her off balance, and she didn’t appreciate the deception.
“It’s a genuine offer,” Agent Harden said with a broad smile as he raised one hand to prevent her from bringing their discussion to a close. “Seriously. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast before catching a flight out of D.C. Besides, I’d much rather cover the details of a job offer over a meal than have my stomach interrupt us on a continual basis.”
Job offer?
Needing a moment to ground herself, Brook nodded her agreement. She monitored Agent Harden’s departure from the table to the double glass doors of the building. He’d left behind the manila folder, but she wouldn’t take the bait. He was testing her. She couldn’t even be sure that he’d meant what he’d said about a job offer.
Brook set her travel mug on the table as she reflected on Agent Harden’s rather nonchalant proposition. She could only assume that he was hoping she would apply to the academy, but she had no interest in being a federal agent. It was difficult for her to understand how he thought such an achievement could be obtained, because it wasn’t like she would pass a background check.
After all, she was the sister of a serial killer.
Brooklyn Walsh might have changed her name to Brooklyn Sloane at the age of eighteen, but it had been all but impossible to leave that person behind in all the bloodshed. Jacob had given his word that she would never get to be the normal one, and he’d done everything in his power to keep that promise.
