I Can Hunt: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 2) Page 10

  “Is there a reason why his father isn’t in the picture?” Aidan asked.

  “He had an accident at work while Susan was still pregnant with Leon. He worked construction and an unstable beam fell on him.”

  “That’s terrible,” Shaun said.

  “Yes, it is,” Mr. Thompson said. “They’ve been through a lot but managed to pull through. Susan’s always saying how much like his dad Leon is. I know she loves me, but I also know she misses her husband a good deal.”

  “Had Leon ever given you any trouble?” Aidan asked.

  Mr. Thompson shook his head. “Not at all. He’s a good kid.” He paused, folding his arms across his chest. “They all are, Agents. Leon is very protective of Rachel, though. He did get into some trouble for fighting another boy at school. Although from what I understand the situation’s been solved.”

  “Mitchell Garvey,” Shaun said, “Right?”

  “Yes. Leon mentioned that this Mitchell boy had been harassing Rachel. He told me no one seemed to be doing anything about it, so he and Ray stepped in.”

  “Do you know anything about Mitchell?” Aidan wondered.

  Mr. Thompson shook his head. “Only from what Leon said. That Mitchell was a predator and he’d been getting into plenty of trouble the last few years. It’s a wonder how he’s still allowed in the school.”

  “Mr. Thompson, we spoke to Rachel recently and she told us that she, Leon, and Ray had joined in a game of scavenger hunt. Has Leon ever mentioned it to you?”

  Mr. Thompson chuckled lightly. “He’d talk about nothing else. Because of the trouble they’ve had at school with Mitchell Garvey, this was somewhat of an escape.”

  “Did Leon mention to you how they came across this game?” Shaun asked.

  “I believe it was Ray who got an email inviting him to play the game,” Mr. Thompson said.

  Shaun’s cell phone started ringing, and he excused himself to step aside and answer.

  Aidan continued to question Mr. Thompson. “Have you personally seen the emails? And do you think you can get us a copy?”

  “I only saw one,” Mr. Thompson said. “The first one. I remember that it asked if he was interested in taking part in the game.” He paused to think as Shaun returned to Aidan’s side. “It had a riddle, but I can’t remember what it said. I’m not sure if Leon has a copy of the emails or not, however, I can check for you. His mother has the password to everything on his computer.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Thompson, we’d appreciate that,” Aidan said. “Is there anything else you can think of that either you’ve witnessed or Leon mentioned which may help clarify what happened to the boys?”

  Mr. Thompson looked through the glass at his stepson and wife in thought before he shook his head. “I’m sorry, no. You know how teenage boys are. They don’t like to tell their parents everything going on in their lives. Even the good kids.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Shaun said. “Please reach out to us if you remember anything, or if Leon’s able to talk to us. We’ll get out of your hair now.”

  Hearing the urgency in his friend’s voice, Aidan glanced over at him curiously.

  “Here’s our card,” Shaun continued, “You can contact either one of us at that number.”

  “Of course, Agents,” Mr. Thompson said.

  They shook his hand, then turned to walk down the hall.

  “What happened?” Aidan asked as they left.

  Shaun cursed underneath his breath. “We’ve got two more victims.”

  18

  BECAUSE THE CRIME scene was in Mauk, Georgia, just over four hours from Augusta, Aidan and Shaun took a helicopter to the destination. The lodge was initially closed for the season since they only offered deer hunting, which ran from mid-September to the beginning of January.

  It would normally be unlikely for anyone to enter the land since it was private property of the lodge. However, a man and woman had decided on a nature hike when they came across the bodies of fifteen-year-old Braxton Paris and his younger brother, Stevie.

  Aidan walked through the woods, smelling the fresh pine scent of the trees, then stopped moving when he spotted the crime scene tape. The beauty of the birds’ calls soiled by the bodies of the two young men.

  Aidan swallowed back his disgust and continued to make his way to the crime scene, slipping underneath the police tape.

  The coroner, wearing a facial mask, was looking over the youngest boy. The stench of the dead reached Aidan’s nostrils and he fought against using his shirt to mask the smell. The pit of his stomach seemed to squeeze into a ball, making him want to hurl. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the smell or the sight of seeing two young men lying dead in the middle of nowhere.

  Perhaps a mixture of both, he decided glumly.

  “Agents O’Reilly and Henderson?”

  Aidan looked up to see a man in uniform, his short stature and bulky figure reminding him of Danny DeVito, approaching.

  Aidan nodded in response.

  “I’m Shaun Henderson, this is Aidan O’Reilly.”

  “Thank you for coming up, fellas. I’m Sergeant Loren. When I came to the crime scene, I knew I should inform the FBI. I’d seen the reports about the carvings in Augusta, where your victims were killed.”

  “Carvings?” Aidan echoed.

  He looked around, and it was then he noticed the words on the tree behind one of the victims. He walked over and ran a hand over the trunk.

  The hunt ends here.

  With a heavy sigh, Aidan snapped a photo with his phone, then turned to Sergeant Loren. “Where are the witnesses?”

  “Took them in for questioning at our precinct.”

  “We’d like a word with them as well,” Shaun replied.

  “Of course.”

  “Do you know the victims?”

  “Sadly, yes. Taylor County is small, you know. Everyone knows everyone else. The town will be devastated. Braxton and Stevie’s parents, particularly their father, are quite well known. He’s a retired judge. It’s not going to be easy telling them about their sons. Losing one is bad enough. But both on the same day? It’s heartbreaking.”

  Aidan looked down at the sergeant. “They don’t know yet?”

  “‘Fraid not. Braxton and Stevie went missing a few days ago. We’ve been searching for them but found no leads. At least not until now.”

  “Is it common for people to walk through these woods?” Shaun asked.

  “No. It’s private property. When the lodge is open, we keep records on who comes hunting, but during the off-seasons, we fine anyone who trespasses. It’s for the people’s safety and the deer. It’s to help keep the deer population from running too low.”

  The sergeant whistled to earn the attention of one of his officers, who walked over to them. She handed him a plastic bag with a sheet of paper inside, and the sergeant passed it to Aidan.

  “This was found on Braxton’s body,” he explained.

  Aidan took the evidence bag and glanced down at the page printed from an email. It had a picture of a map where X marked the spot, the same area of land where they currently stood. Below the map, a riddle:

  I am a circular token you wear on your hand. I am the color green. There is a city in the land of Oz that is named the same as me.

  Aidan looked up at Shaun. “It’s got to be Stephanie Carpenter’s emerald engagement ring.”

  “So it seems.”

  “This is the first time our killer allowed us to see the map. Is he playing with us? Or is he almost finished?” Shaun wondered.

  The dread of the offender going into hiding seeped into Aidan’s core, his stomach tying into a knot. They had so little to go on, only learning small bits of pieces, but if the offender vanishes, would they still manage to unmask who he was?

  Shaun walked over to where the coroner knelt by the body of the youngest brother. When Aidan followed, he noted the bullet wound in the boy’s back.

  “What do you know so far?” Shaun asked her.
<
br />   “They’re in full rigor. I’d say they were killed soon as they went missing, just over forty-eight hours ago. I’ll give you the full report. Braxton over there has a single gunshot wound to his chest, Stevie has one in his back. Both died on impact. I’d like to remove the bodies now. I’ll call you when I’m done with the autopsies.” She rose to her feet with a sigh. “Stevie was a friend of my son’s. This isn’t going to be easy by any means.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Shaun said.

  “Can either of you think of a reason why the boys would be here?”

  “Sorry,” the sergeant said, shaking his head. “No one is supposed to be on this land. We’re just lucky the witnesses decided to play the rebels.”

  “I wish I could come up with something,” the medical examiner replied. “Maybe my son can give you some insight. I’ll bring him down to the station later this afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Samantha,” Sergeant Loren said.

  “Have you noticed anything missing from either of them?”

  “I’m sorry?” the sergeant questioned.

  “We have a suspicion a serial killer is playing a game with his victims,” Aidan explained. “From what we’ve gathered from previous victims, he’s taking items off the bodies and getting his targets involved in a scavenger hunt, having them solve a riddle such as this.” He held the evidence bag up.

  “That’s deranged.” The sergeant cursed underneath his breath.

  “Yes, it most certainly is,” Shaun said.

  Loren shook his head. “I can’t be sure. Judge Paris may be able to help you with that.”

  The medical examiner knelt to the body of the younger brother and slipped her hand into his back pocket, drawing out a blue Looney Toons wallet. She opened it, then sighed.

  “I can,” she announced quietly as she rose. “Before their disappearances, Stevie and my kid were trading toys. “Stevie loved Chipper Jones and my son had an old 1991 rookie baseball card. They traded that for Stevie’s remote helicopter. I saw him with his brother the next day and when he opened this wallet, it was inside. I’m assuming he carried it everywhere.”

  “Thank you,” Aidan said. “That helps.”

  “You may want to inform the boys’ family. We’re going to need to speak with them as soon as possible,” Shaun told Sergeant Loren.

  “Yes, I suppose I best do that now. I dread this part. Would you like to come along?”

  “Yes,” Aidan said. “As we head over there, I’d like to know what you know about the family.”

  19

  “WHAT DO YOU have for me?” Jordan Blake asked.

  The man sitting across from him at the corner table of the bar tilted his head to the side in wonder, studying the reporter.

  The buzz of the bar was loud above the pulsing music. And the corner where the men sat was dark and provided the privacy they needed for their exchange.

  The man in front of Jordan kept a stoic expression, his eyes hard, unreadable.

  “Before I say anything, I need to know what “you have for me,” Mr. Blake.”

  Jordan scoffed. “C’mon, man. You know I’m good for it.”

  “And you know that doesn’t matter to me.”

  Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Jordan said, “Fine, have it your way.”

  He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out an envelope. He looked inside to check the money, all five grand of it, in bills of hundreds. His uncle wouldn’t be too pleased with what Jordan was doing with the cash, however, it was, after all, his own personal money. He earned it. Worked hard for it. His book based on The Carnations Killer was a number one bestseller for two months until it slowly dipped in the ranks. Still, even six months later, it listed on the top ten must-read list.

  As far as Jordan was concerned, he could do whatever he wanted with the money he earned from his book.

  Jordan offered his companion a wry smile, as he slid the envelope of cash across the table.

  The other man proceeded to pick it up, but Jordan weighed it down with his hand, shaking his head, and making a tsking sound.

  His companion arched a brow. “If we’re to continue doing business, Blake, you and I should start trusting one another.”

  “You would think,” Jordan retorted. “What if the information you claim to have isn’t as good as promised?”

  “Oh, it’s good,” Jordan’s companion smiled. “People will be watching you every day when you share this news. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “People watch me every day already,” Jordan pointed out. “Try again.”

  “Sure they do,” his companion replied. “But they will be addicted to your news. They will want to know what you know. They will worship the very ground you walk on. I’ve watched you for a long while, Blake. I know you.”

  The reporter narrowed his eyes. “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you have a desperate need to feel wanted. You need approval. Mommy didn’t give it to you. Your uncle only took you under his wing out of pity. You wrote an entire book on how you caught the Carnations Killer when I know for a fact that O’Reilly saved your skin.”

  Jordan remained silent and retreated his hand, keeping his eyes focused on his companion.

  He watched as the man across the table peered into the envelope.

  “Go ahead. Count it. It’s all there.”

  Jordan’s companion chuckled. “I’m sure it is, Mr. Blake. I doubt even you would be foolish enough to cross me.” He stuffed the bulging envelope in the inside of his suit jacket and leaned back.

  “The feds are maintaining silence in order to keep chaos under control. However, it appears our serial killer is putting his victims through a scavenger hunt of sorts.”

  Jordan arched an eyebrow. “Why a scavenger hunt?”

  “It’s not known at this time,” he replied. “But he gives his victims a riddle to solve. When they find the item, boom—.” He snapped his fingers in front of Jordan’s eyes, forcing the reporter to blink. “—He shoots his victims as if they are deer.”

  “Do we know the weapon he uses?”

  The other man shook his head. “ He seems to use what is needed at the time.”

  “Is there a link between the victims?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Are there more? Other than Stephanie Carpenter and Ray Parsons?”

  “O’Reilly and Henderson are currently in Mauk as we speak.” He lowered his voice. “Now this…this is something they are going to want to keep hush-hush.”

  Jordan leaned forward with interest, a smile stretching across his lips. “I’m listening.”

  20

  “Judge Paris,” Sergeant Loren said when the door opened. He removed his hat, clutching it tightly in his hands. “May we…have a word?”

  The judge’s eyes flickered over to Aidan and Shaun, then back at the sergeant. He glanced over his shoulder, then stepped outside, his lips deepening into a frown. He shut the door behind him. “What’s going on, Joseph? Did you find them?”

  Loren pushed out a heavy sigh. “Judge, I’m afraid we have some news.” He paused. “Earlier this afternoon, Braxton and Stevie were found in the woods of the hunting lodge. I’m sorry to tell you this, but someone shot and killed both of them.”

  “What?” Judge Paris whispered with disbelief. “That’s not possible. Are you certain it’s my boys?”

  “Yes,” Loren said. He gestured with a tilt of his head toward Aidan and Shaun. “They’re FBI, Judge. They’ve been looking into a few murders with similar circumstances, and this fit with their others. They…believe we may have a serial killer running around town.”

  “A serial killer?” Paris echoed. “What…uh…what similarities are we talking?”

  Aidan took a step forward. “We’ve had two deaths so far, Judge Paris. The first was a high school teenager and second a young woman. They were both shot in wooded areas, and at both scenes, the killer had engraved a phrase near their bodies: ‘the hunt ends her
e.’ We found the same where your sons were.”

  The judge fell silent for a beat.

  “I heard about that on the news. What’s the connection?” Judge Paris asked gruffly. “Why has your killer targeted my sons?”

  “We haven’t made the connection yet, Your Honor,” Shaun replied.

  “You haven’t? Then what are you people doing in Augusta, exactly? Eating donuts?”

  As soon as the words were out his mouth, a look of embarrassment spread across the judge’s face.

  “My apologies,” he said.

  “No reason for an apology, Your Honor. We understand,” Shaun assured the grieving man.

  Aidan understood the judge’s reaction on a personal level, after Cheyenne was tortured during the Carnations Killer case. “Judge Paris, do you know of anyone who may want to hurt your sons?”

  “Enough to kill them? No. They’re only kids.”

  “Do they often go to the hunting lodge by themselves?”

  “No.” The judge sighed as the door opened. He scratched the back of his head, releasing a soft curse underneath his breath.

  A woman stepped outside, her eyes shining with curiosity and worry. She looked worn for wear. A mother desperate for answers.

  “Joseph, I didn’t realize you were here,” she said, the distress in her voice reaching her eyes. “Steven, why haven’t you invited them inside? Come, would you like—.”

  “Faye, sweetheart,” the judge said, putting his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Please go on inside. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Faye’s gaze shot over the four men standing outside her door.

  “Is this about the boys?” Faye whispered to her husband. “Please don’t shut me out. You can’t keep any secrets from me. I can’t handle any secrets. Just tell me.”

  The judge hesitated, then pushed out a breath. “Stevie and Braxton, they’re…they’ve been…someone killed them. Our babies…they’ve been shot.”