I Can Kill: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 1) Read online

  “I’m doing well, considering,” Aidan answered. “Thank you. I understand you found the body?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Gibbs said. “My wife said she saw someone carrying something over his shoulder. He set it down.”

  “Next thing I knew,” Mrs. Gibbs added, her voice wavering slightly, “he was leaving.”

  “At first, I thought it was her imagination,” Mr. Gibbs continued. “She has trouble seeing. But she was insistent, so I went to look and—” he frowned as he glanced in the direction of the police and agents, “—and I found that poor young girl’s body. I checked for her pulse, but she was already dead.”

  “You didn’t see anyone yourself?” Shaun asked.

  “No, young man,” he said. “I was in the restroom.”

  “Ma’am.” Aidan directed his attention to Mrs. Gibbs. “Do you remember what he looked like? Do you know if he was short, tall...?”

  “I don’t know.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t see too well these days.”

  “And it was only one man leaving?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you think he may have seen you?” Aidan asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve heard about the serial murders on the news. I was afraid it might be him, so I hid in the bathroom. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  Her lips trembled, and Aidan put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You did the right thing, ma’am. There was nothing you could have done. Your safety is more important than anything else.”

  “You don’t think we’re in danger, do you, young man?” Mr. Gibbs asked.

  Mrs. Gibbs sniffled, and her husband took her hand in his.

  “No, sir. He likely didn’t notice you.” Aidan opted not to mention the Gibbs more than likely wouldn’t be alive had the offender realized he’d been seen. “But I’ll have an officer escort you home,” Aidan told them. “If we need anything else, we’ll contact you. And if you do remember seeing something that may help, call us anytime. Day or night.”

  Aidan passed Mr. Gibbs his card. He accepted it with a quick nod and thanked them, then guided his wife toward the parking lot.

  As Aidan watched them, he noticed reporters had begun to arrive, filming the crime scene. The police were holding their arms out to the side as if to keep them from getting through.

  “Well, look who we have here,” Shaun muttered.

  Aidan scanned the crowd and when a tall officer moved to the end of the police tape, he saw Jordan Blake among them.

  30

  Jordan wore a gray raincoat, its hood slipped over his ball cap. He spotted Aidan and Shaun, then motioned for his cameraman to point in their direction. Kent did as he was told until the coroner began to load the body, then the focus went back to the murder.

  Aidan began walking toward the crowd.

  “Don’t,” Shaun warned, following close behind.

  “Don’t what?” Aidan asked. “I only want to have a chat with our friend.”

  Shaun said nothing more as they approached. Police officers were telling the reporters they were not authorized to say anything at this time, and the reporters needed to stay behind the police tape.

  “Agent O’Reilly,” Jordan stated. Kent pointed his camera in their direction.

  “Mr. Blake,” Aidan replied matter-of-factly. “Here you are again.” He glanced to where Jane Ridgeway's body rested. “At my crime scene.”

  “Here I am,” Jordan echoed, a smile playing on his lips. “Every good reporter knows when a high-profile crime has taken place.”

  “Really?” Aidan scoffed, “This was an actual human being, Blake. How can you make light of this?”

  Instead of answering, the reporter turned to face the camera. “This is Jordan Blake reporting live at the Lady Antebellum Pavilion. The Carnations Killer has struck our city yet again, and I’m standing here at the scene of the crime with Agents O’Reilly and Henderson.” He turned to face them. “Agent O’Reilly, can we get a statement from you?”

  Aidan considered telling Jordan exactly what he could do with himself, but he thought better of it—not only because Shaun had his bear-like hand on his shoulder in a silent warning. Instead, Aidan replied that he didn’t have a comment at this time, and once the team finished piling together what they'd found, they would be happy to share.

  “So, you did find something?” Jordan pressed.

  Man, this guy is irritating, Aidan thought with silent infuriation.

  Aidan tried ignoring the reporter as he walked away, but not before he heard Jordan speak to the camera: “Well, viewers of WJFX, you saw it for yourselves—the Federal Bureau of Investigations is yet again keeping us citizens in the dark.”

  “Shaun, I’m about three seconds away from using him as a punching bag,” Aidan hissed, jabbing an index finger in the direction of the reporter.

  “I hear you,” was the reply. They stopped at their cars. Shaun looked toward where the reporters were trying to get answers from the nearby agents and police officers.

  “A part of me wishes we’d find something to implicate him so I’d have the pleasure of locking him up.” Aidan crossed his arms. “Actually, you know something? I don’t think prison would do well for him. A padded room and a straight jacket might do the trick.”

  Shaun snickered. “Just let it go. I’ll see you back at the office.”

  With a frown, Aidan nodded and climbed into the car.

  As he sat behind the wheel, he noticed something on the floor on the passenger side. Aidan leaned over and retrieved the object.

  His heart began to drum along with the pouring rain against his ribcage.

  It was a taser.

  Aidan stared at the device and then looked out his window, scanning his surroundings. No one was around. Shaun had already pulled out of the parking lot, and the reporters were still standing with the officers, trying to get their statements.

  Jordan glanced at Aidan, but he couldn’t read what was written on his face.

  Aidan began to wonder whether he really did know something about the killings.

  He’d lied before, he seemed to know where the victims were before it was announced, and he knew about The Carnations Killer connection.

  He was also acting irritatingly smug—something Aidan imagined the offender would do if he were in Jordan’s shoes.

  And now someone left a taser on the floorboard of his car.

  Whoever The Carnations Killer was—whether it was Jordan Blake or not—he was here.

  And he was watching.

  31

  Using a newspaper Aidan found in the backseat of the car, he carefully wrapped the taser and carried it in the building.

  He found Shaun at his desk gnawing on a blueberry muffin.

  Aidan set the folded paper in front of him.

  Shaun stared at it and arched an eyebrow. “If you’re going to give me a paper to read, I’d rather have the current edition.”

  “Open it,” Aidan urged. He grabbed a nearby chair and rolled it over.

  Shaun did, and when he revealed the taser, he sat back in his seat. “Where’d you get this?”

  “Someone put that in my car. On the floorboard.”

  “And I’m assuming you didn’t see who?”

  Shaking his head, Aidan said, “Whoever it was, was there. At the scene. I would assume he watched as we checked out the body, questioned the witnesses. There’s no telling how long he was there. He could have been there for a few minutes, or even long after I left.”

  Shaun frowned at Aidan. “Why would he want to leave you the taser?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re the profiler,” he pointed out.

  “Well,” Aidan began as he leaned close to the desk to gingerly inspect the device. “Maybe he’s trying to frame me. Maybe that’s the ‘surprise’ he has in store.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think that’s it. He’s proud of what he’s done. He wants to take the credit.” Aidan considered what h
e knew about the offender. “He was there while we were.”

  I can kill, and you can't catch me.

  The final words the offender said to him ten years ago found its way in the forefront of Aidan's mind.

  He looked at Shaun, whose eyes clouded over as he considered what Aidan was saying.

  “He wants to be sure we know he’s watching. He wants us to know he’s close, but we can’t touch him.”

  “Profound,” Shaun muttered. “I’ll send it on to the lab and see if there’s chance of fingerprints.”

  “I touched it at first,” Aidan told him. “I wasn't thinking.”

  “No prob.” Using a napkin, Shaun picked the device up and studied it. “Looks like this is handmade. A very good handmade one at that.”

  As he rose, Shaun jammed a hunk of his muffin into his mouth. Crumbs fell to the desk and he swiped them on the floor with his hand. “Wanna walk with me?”

  “Yeah, I’ll go.”

  They made their way in silence to the elevator and once inside, Shaun jammed his index finger on the number that would take them to the crime lab.

  “By the way,” Shaun said as the doors closed, “we got nothing from the call you got last night.”

  “Kinda figured that,” Aidan muttered. He turned to give Shaun his attention. “If I ask you something, will you keep it between us?”

  Shaun said he would. He eyed Aidan curiously.

  Aidan sighed and rested his head against the metal elevator wall.

  “Do you ever have dreams?” he asked. “Not normal dreams. But of the things you see at work. Murders.”

  “Sometimes,” Shaun admitted.

  “Do they affect you?”

  Shaun shrugged. “Nightmares are common. And this job can get to you. That’s why I go to the gym and beat the heck out of the bag. It helps me with the angers and frustrations.”

  “I have dreams,” Aidan confided. His words lowered an octave. “Of the victims. They’re so vivid. I wake up and have to tell myself it was only a dream. But a part of me doesn’t believe it was. So, I can’t get back to sleep.”

  “Hmm,” Shaun murmured. “Well, you know, dreams are our subconscious’ way of speaking to us. Maybe your subconscious is giving you information you don’t immediately see about the murders. Information you might realize you’ve never noticed before when you log into the database.”

  “How does waking feeling Maya’s cold breath and the heat of her blood encourage my subconscious to help me solve her murder?” Aidan asked.

  Rather than answering, Shaun asked, “Have you told Cheyenne about your dreams?”

  The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open.

  “No,” Aidan admitted as they stepped off. “She already worries enough about me. I don’t want to add more to it. I try to keep work and personal life separate.”

  “I don’t want to tell you what to do with your relationship,” Shaun began as they walked down the hall and turned a corner, “but that rarely works. Keeping everything bottled inside never does anyone good.” They paused outside the door of their destination. Shaun regarded Aidan, his face downcast. “Remember, all Cheyenne knows is what she hears on the news. She doesn’t know what it’s like to see the victim’s skull beaten in, and the bruises on their skin. She may never understand it. But you can do your part by confiding in her. At least about the dreams. It may help you, in the long run, to talk about it.”

  Shaun placed a meaty hand on Aidan’s shoulder and gave him a soft, reassuring squeeze before pushing the door open.

  “Hey, Jackson,” Shaun said, announcing their arrival.

  “What up?” Jackson was in his early twenties and had yellow highlights in his dark brown hair. Though he wore long sleeves, Aidan noticed a tattoo of a dragon tail peeking out.

  “Need a favor,” Shaun said. When Jackson lifted his head from the microscope, Shaun handed him the taser. “See if you can get prints off this. At least one set will be O’Reilly’s.”

  “You got it.”

  Jackson went to work, and Shaun turned to face Aidan.

  “Think our guy has a family?”

  Aidan shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for serial offenders to have a family. He has excellent people skills. He’s able to get close enough to his victims in order to throw them off guard and tase them.”

  “So, he could be like Ted Bundy, a good looking, smooth talking serial killer?”

  Aidan shrugged.

  “That’s scary,” Shaun replied.

  Aidan silently agreed.

  “Okay,” Jackson said, mumbling underneath his breath. “Now running the prints in the program...” He trailed off and began singing a song underneath his breath. “The only print,” Jackson announced a few minutes later, “is yours, Agent O’Reilly.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Aidan asked. He retrieved the taser.

  “Sorry, wish I could add a ‘but’ to that statement and work my magic, but...”

  Aidan offered Jackson a smile. “You’re good, man. Thanks for checking on it.”

  “Anytime.”

  Shaun shook his hand, and they turned to leave.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you since we questioned the elderly couple,” Shaun began as the exited the crime lab, heading for the elevator. “Your compassion skills are better than you think.”

  “Thanks,” Aidan muttered. When they stepped into the lift, he heard a low rumbling coming from his stomach. “I’m going to run to the cafeteria. I didn’t get to finish my breakfast, and I’m starving. Want to come?”

  “Always.”

  32

  Shaun and AIDAN pulled into the parking lot of HomeGoods and climbed out of the car. The rain had subsided, leaving behind the fresh scent of dew. It was hot and humid, which was normal for the south. Although it was nearing eleven o’clock, the sun hid behind a small dark cloud, begging to come out. But according to the weather report on the radio as they drove to the store, it would rain again around noon.

  After Shaun parked his car, they made their way into the building.

  There were only a few shoppers by the registers and one employee.

  They made a beeline to the employee, and as she rang up her customer’s sale, Shaun requested to speak with the manager on duty. Skillfully multitasking, the employee continued to scan as she spoke into the phone.

  “MOD to the front, MOD to the front registers,” her voice echoed through the loudspeakers.

  Shaun thanked her and received a “mm-mmm” in response.

  It took a few minutes for a stocky man with a well-trimmed beard to arrive. The girl at the register pointed to the agents as she made herself look busy at the already-neat end cap.

  “Good morning, I’m Brad. How can I help you folks today?”

  “I’m Special Agent O’Reilly, this is Special Agent Henderson. Is there a place where we can talk in private?”

  Brad nodded and looked over at the girl, who pretended not to eavesdrop.

  “Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes, Sharon?”

  “I think so,” she replied.

  Brad turned back to his guests. “Right this way.”

  They followed him to the back of the store and through a door marked “employees only.”

  “As I’m sure you’ve guessed,” Shaun began as they settled into his office, “We’re here about your assistant manager, Jane Ridgeway.”

  Brad folded his hands on his desk. “I saw it on the news this morning. Such a tragedy.”

  “When did you last see her?” Aidan asked.

  Brad pushed out a heavy sigh. “Last week. Tuesday night. She was supposed to come in the following morning. She didn’t show. I knew something was wrong the minute one of my supervisors called me. It wasn’t like Jane at all.”

  “Do you know if Jane has had problems with anyone in the past? A customer, an employee? Anyone that didn’t seem to like her?”

  Brad shook his head.

  “No. Jane is—was—very
much a people person. We’ll certainly miss her around here.”

  “Did you see her leave with anyone that night?” Shaun asked.

  Brad shook his head. “I left around nine. She closed up shop about ten thirty or so.”

  “Who closed with her?” Aidan asked. Before finding Jane’s body, the police had already questioned the employees, but he wanted to double check to make sure no one was missed.

  Brad glanced at his board on the wall, which must have the names of employees working for the month. He read off the names, and Aidan wrote them in his pad. He requested their addresses and phone numbers, and Brad looked on the computer and handed over a printout of the requested information.

  After concluding the interview, Aidan thanked him for his time.

  “Was it The Carnations Killer?” he asked as he walked them out.

  “It would seem,” Shaun replied.

  “I hate it for her husband. They got married only a few months ago.”

  They thanked Brad again, told him they were sorry for his loss, then left the store.

  As they ambled to the car, Aidan called Lieutenant Christenson and told him the names and addresses of the employees that worked on the night of Jane’s disappearance. After taking note of the information, Christenson said the husband was distraught, and didn’t know of anyone who would want to hurt his wife.

  The lieutenant said he would get with Aidan later once his men interviewed the other employees.

  Aidan told him he was going to schedule a briefing for two o’clock in the afternoon. Christenson replied he’d like to attend if circumstances allowed—apparently, an accidental shooting had happened. Thankfully, there were no fatalities, but he needed to assess the situation.

  The life of law enforcement officers.

  Shaun and Aidan stopped by McDonald’s for lunch and brought it back to the office.

  Now they sat at his desk reviewing the recent murder.

  The downside was they still didn’t have new evidence on the body. The upside was they now had a witness—though she didn’t see very well—and a handmade taser the offender had placed in Aidan's car.