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

  “No,” she answered.

  “And you didn’t leave this shop at all during the incident?” Shaun clarified.

  “Are you kidding? Of course not. I heard that shot and could barely move, I was so terrified.”

  “I understand,” Shaun told her. “Are there any other employees here who were there on that day?”

  “Yes, Pat Green. She’s the park ranger in charge. I’ll walkie her and tell her you’re here.”

  As she made her way to the counter to grab her walkie talkie, Aidan surveyed the shop, then returned outside to take in all points of entry. He noted that the killer must have paid his way to enter. Aidan saw a sign on the door warning visitors to not smoke or bring in unauthorized weapons.

  The killer must have taken in a small gun, as opposed to the shotgun used to kill Stephanie Carpenter. Either the instances happened as a separate matter, or the killer didn’t have a preference of a type of gun. He’d use the weapon that fit the circumstances.

  Still, the question of why only Ray Parsons echoed in his mind. Was he the intended victim? Or did the killer intend on killing all three students?

  “Hey, Aidan,” Shaun said, swatting his shoulder to snatch his attention. “She said the ranger will meet us on the swamp side. And I got us a map of the place.”

  “Great,” Aidan replied. They walked back into the souvenir shop, and before walking through the swamp doors, he returned to the woman they questioned. “I have one more thing to ask if it’s okay.”

  She looked at him, making no response.

  “You said ‘shot’ each time you referred to the shooting. As in a single gunshot.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she confirmed. “It was only one shot. Everyone started running. A few were shouting that someone had been hit.”

  “Okay, thank you,” Aidan told her.

  “The offender knows what he’s doing,” Shaun muttered. “He gets inside with a concealed weapon, takes out his target with superior marksmanship, still able to remain unseen, then he vanishes.”

  “Why can’t our job be a bit easier?” Aidan complained.

  “Then Lieutenant Christensen wouldn’t need us.”

  “That would be okay with me.”

  They pushed open the door and stepped back into the stifling hot air.

  “Well, well,” Shaun said without a hint of surprise. “Look who we have here.”

  Aidan followed his gaze, then felt his heart lodge itself in his throat. This was the last thing he needed to deal with.

  “Agents O’Reilly and Henderson.”

  Jordan Blake from WJFX News beamed at them with the same smile Aidan began to hate since the first time he met him over six months ago. His words seemed to be singing a song of mocking pleasure, and Aidan curled his fists. The mere sight of the reporter made him want to knock his teeth out.

  “What brings you here, Blake?” Aidan asked, forcing himself to remain cordial.

  “Oh, you know about the murder last week, I’m sure,” Jordan said nonchalantly. “If you’re here…it must be a serious deal. Care to make a statement?”

  “No,” Shaun said simply.

  Jordan rolled his eyes. “All right, then, well, you know how much I’d love to stay and chat and braid each other’s hair, but I’ve got a hot date.”

  Jordan pat Aidan on his shoulder on the way out the door, leaving the two agents staring after him.

  “Some things never change,” Shaun acknowledged.

  “I wouldn’t necessarily want them to,” Aidan replied. “I hate the idea of dealing with a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Unfortunately, I can’t ever tell which Jordan Blake is.”

  “Agent O’Reilly?”

  Aidan turned to see a tall, ramrod straight woman standing by the entrance to the swamp. Her bun sat on top of her narrow head, reminding Aidan of the Coneheads movie. Her lips were painted pink and her smile genuine.

  “You must be Pat Green,” Aidan acknowledged.

  “I must be,” Pat agreed.

  “This is my partner, Shaun Henderson. Thank you for taking time from your day to talk to us.” Aidan glanced back at the door, then at the ranger. “If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly did you tell Mr. Blake?”

  “Not much,” Pat replied. “To be true, I don’t have that much to tell. I didn’t see what had happened. I only heard it. And dealt with the aftermath. It was…terrifying.”

  “Where were you when the gunshot sounded?” Shaun asked.

  “In the bathroom, washing my hands. I heard the commotion. A loud bang-like sound, then people screaming. When I came out, I saw people running, shoving others to the ground. I’d never seen anything like it.”

  “Did you see anyone suspicious, either before or after the shooting?”

  Pat shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I still can’t get over those children getting hurt. Who would do a thing like that?”

  “Have you seen any of the kids before the incident?”

  “It’s possible, but I can’t be sure. I see so many people on a day-to-day basis. The swamp is a hotspot for science classes.”

  “What about this woman?” Aidan asked. He pulled the photo of Stephanie Carpenter from his folder and held it up in front of him.

  “I’m sorry, no I haven’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Should I have? Was she involved with the shooting?”

  “We don’t believe so,” Shaun replied, “However, she was killed on Friday morning. We’re just making sure it isn’t connected.”

  “I see,” Pat said.

  “Can you show us the area where Ray Parsons died?”

  “Of course. Follow me, please.”

  She led the way through the swamp until they crossed the long bridge leading into the trail.

  “The boy who was shot was found over here,” Pat said, indicating the area. “He was found at the other end of the bridge between the woods.”

  “Wow,” Shaun said. “That’s a long bridge.”

  “Yes,” Pat said with a brief smile. “It’s about twenty-five feet long. It had always been one of my favorite attractions. Do you hear the songbirds?”

  Aidan looked around the sky, spotting a few birds perched in the trees. He nodded. “Beautiful.”

  “You can also spot turtles and river otters from time to time.”

  “My girlfriend would love to come visit this place.”

  “Perhaps you can bring her one day. Of course, after things are settled. It’s been slow lately because of what happened. It may continue to remain slow until you can find the person who is at fault. And I hope you do for the sake of the families.”

  “As do we,” Shaun agreed.

  They paused for a minute longer before crossing the bridge. Aidan noticed the words engraved on the bridge.

  “Do you do a walkthrough before visitors arrive?”

  Pat nodded. “We do it every day after closing, then a brief survey when we get here in the morning.”

  “Was this here before?”

  “No,” Pat confirmed.

  “Do you have cameras in the vicinity?” Aidan asked.

  “Only at the visitor’s building and gift shop.”

  “Is it possible for us to look through it?”

  “Of course,” Pat told him. “Anything you need.”

  “And around here is where the other kid fell?” Shaun asked, kneeling to the side of the bridge, inspecting a dark stain on the wood.

  “Yes,” Pat confirmed, looking along the ground and in the swamp. “Mrs. Parson calls us almost every day, asking if we’ve found his glasses.”

  “Glasses?” Shaun echoed.

  “Yes, he wore glasses, I guess. They weren’t on his person. I’m supposing he left them at home because I haven’t seen them, but Mrs. Parsons insists she saw him leave the house with them.”

  Aidan walked a ways further down the trail, seeing swamp water on both sides, confirming no one would be able to walk through unnoticed. He returned to Pat and Shaun.

  Pat offered Sh
aun a shrug. “You know how parents are. They’ll likely find it on his nightstand or in the bathroom.”

  “Yes,” Shaun agreed. “Perhaps they will.”

  “How much traffic do you get down here?” Aidan interjected. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “It depends mainly on a few environmental factors,” she told him. “When it’s cold, it will likely be slow. Same with rain. It’s touch and go in very hot weather. Less hot and cool days, we would normally expect a large crowd, but I’m not so sure now. It was busy on the day of the shooting.”

  “Okay,” Aidan said. “Can we take a look at the tape now?”

  “Yes. Follow me.”

  10

  AIDAN AND SHAUN had spent long hours reviewing the videos of the swamp on the day of Ray Parson’s murder. It was a better-quality video, than many others Aidan had seen throughout his years. Very often, the videos would turn out to be grainy and hard to make out, unless they knew exactly what they were looking for.

  It was a normal day until that afternoon, timestamped one-thirty, chaos broke and people began running, pushing and stumbling toward the exit. The shooter could have been any one of them, or none. Neither Aidan nor Shaun could tell.

  Serial offenders tend to have the keen ability to blend in, which was one reason why they aren’t caught so easily.

  Aidan wondered whether or not their killer had killed others before, but even when the question entered his mind, he pushed it out. There was something about the way the offender was choosing his victims, something about the phrase he’d written at both crime scenes.

  The hunt stops here.

  He was hunting his victims, using a gun as the means of death.

  But still, there didn’t seem to be a connection between the two murders.

  Aidan knew there had to be a missing link somewhere. He knew he would find it, but the question remained: would he find it before another life was cruelly taken?

  For the time being, however, they had to proceed in their investigation somehow, and unfortunately for Aidan, they needed to speak with Ray Parson’s mother. It was one part of the job Aidan hated, and although Shaun attempted to assure him otherwise, he thought it was a part of his job that he failed at. He never knew how to act with the surviving family members, and it was an especially touchy subject when it was the mother of a child.

  Aidan rang the doorbell to Susan Parson’s home, and they waited for someone to answer. As he did, he pulled in a breath and prepared himself for the conversation. Aidan had already noted the garage door was closed, preventing him from seeing whether or not a car was there. They knew Susan was a single mother, divorced from her surgeon husband, Brock. The couple had separated for three years before their official divorce, but as far as Aidan could tell, it was amicable. Susan was a stay-at-home mom, living off a massive child support.

  Lieutenant Christensen had sent several of his men to check into the father’s past and his alibi at the time of Ray’s murder. Aidan surmised it was unlikely the father would kill his own son, but not unheard of. It was important for them to tie up all false leads to find the right ones.

  Aidan rang the doorbell of the Parson’s again, then stepped back. He noticed the curtains moving from an upstairs bedroom, so he knew someone was home.

  This time, he banged on the door with his fist. “Mrs. Parsons, this is the FBI. We have a few questions for you. We won’t take too much of your time.”

  “Doesn’t look as if she wants to come to the door,” Shaun replied, shielding his eyes looking up at the window. “I suppose we should come back later.”

  “Yeah,” Aidan breathed. He glanced up at the window again to see whoever it was that was looking down no longer was there. “Uh, Mrs. Parsons, I’m leaving my card at the door in case you change your mind.”

  He opened his wallet to pull out a business card as the door opened.

  A woman, her hair bleached blonde, peeked through the crack before dragging the door open the rest of the way.

  “Forgive me for taking so long to answer,” she said quietly. Her downcast blue eyes aged her several years, and she seemed to have lost quite a bit of sleep. Although it appeared as if she’d attempted to brush her hair through, it was in a messy array. All-in-all, the woman looked as if she were ready to give up on life.

  Aidan hadn’t gotten to the point in his life where he’d considered having children, but he imagined how tough and how dark a mother’s life must get when they lose a child in a tragic event.

  “That’s quite all right,” Shaun assured her, the tone of his voice consoling as usual. “I hope you don’t mind us intruding. I’m Agent Henderson, this is Agent O’Reilly. Do you mind talking to us about your son?”

  Mrs. Parsons frowned. “I’ve already told the police all I know, which is nothing. I just want to be left alone in my grief.”

  “We understand,” Aidan said. “You have our sincere condolences. We want to do everything we can to find his killer. But to do so, we’ll need to speak to you. We’re currently working with the local police, trying to get all the facts straight. If it gets to be too much for you…just tell us and we’ll leave.”

  Mrs. Parsons studied Aidan for a few minutes before a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “My Ray was a good kid. He was never one to get into trouble. I just…I can’t see why anyone wanted to hurt him. If talking to you gets justice for my boy, then that’s what I’ll do. Please come in.”

  She pulled the door open wider for them to step inside.

  “Sorry for the mess,” she mumbled. “I hadn’t felt much like cleaning the past week.”

  “We’re not here to judge, Mrs. Parsons,” Shaun said. “You should see my place. It’s not even fit for pigs. When my girls come to visit, I sometimes have to search underneath clothes and dishes just to find them.”

  Mrs. Parsons turned her lips into a small smile at the statement.

  It was as if Shaun had some magical power to heal the brokenhearted, Aidan decided. At least to give them a glimmer of joy, however slight it may be.

  “That reminds me,” Aidan added as they continued to the living room. “We’re supposed to stop and get rat traps for your place.”

  Shaun rolled his eyes. “See what I’ve got to put up with?” He looked at Aidan. “No one touches my rats.”

  “You certainly know how to keep company away.”

  “Just you,” Shaun retorted. He turned back to Mrs. Parsons. “Anyway…”

  “It must be interesting working together,” she said, forcing another smile. “Do you squabble like this all the time?”

  “In good faith,” Shaun said. “I don’t really have rats.”

  “Good to know.”

  “How are you doing, Mrs. Parsons?” Shaun’s playful tone turned more serious.

  Mrs. Parson’s sigh was shaky as she sat in her recliner. “When I was pregnant with Ray, I had nightmares every night someone would come and take him away. Even when he began high school…I just can’t believe my son is gone. I try to wake up, but I can’t.”

  “It’s a terrible thing to live through,” Shaun said. “If I lost my twins, I’m not so sure I could go on.”

  “It’s strange what goes through your mind. Like I just can’t help but wonder why didn’t I tell him to take the trash out before he left for school? Or put the dishes in the dishwasher…” She shook her head slowly. “You must think me a terrible mother.”

  “Not in the slightest,” Shaun said. “Just grieving. Our minds work in a way to protect us. We all react differently to tragedy.”

  “You said you wanted to talk to me some more. What more can I say?”

  “Can you start by telling us about the last time you saw or spoke to Ray?” Aidan suggested.

  “I saw him that morning,” Mrs. Parsons said. “He couldn’t wait to get to school. Ray always made good grades and did well in his classes, but he hated school. He was never one to be shut up in a room all day. When he was little, his father t
ook him on camping trips all the time. Ray loved every minute. That morning, he was looking forward to going to Phinizy Swamp. He’d never been before.”

  “Had he ever given a reason to think he was having trouble with anything or anyone? Was he bullied by kids at school, did he ever get involved in bad habits such as using any addictive substances…?”

  Mrs. Parsons shook her head. “Not at all. Ray was more on the shy side. He kept to himself a lot. Leon Quick and Rachel Amos were his best friends. They all grew up together. Rachel and Ray were born a day apart from each other and Leon lived next door for a few years. While Ray had several acquaintances, he never mentioned friends outside of Rachel and Leon.”

  “You know Leon and Rachel well?” Shaun asked. “Tell us about them.”

  “I think the boys had a crush on Rachel for a while. It was sweet. Almost as if they had an unspoken promise between each other to not date her.” She squeezed her thumb and forefinger against the bridge of her nose with a sigh. “I should call their mothers. I haven’t done that since Ray’s…funeral.”

  “What about your ex-husband?” Shaun inquired. “How close was he with Ray?”

  “Brock is a great father to Ray. He would make sure to always play an integral part in Ray’s life. The divorce was tough on Ray, but we did everything we could to make it easier. Brock and I remained friends. We just weren’t good at being married.”

  “Where can we find your ex-husband?” Aidan asked.

  “I’ll give you his new address,” Mrs. Parsons said as she pulled the drawer of the end table open. She removed a pen and pad, then began to scribble. “He’ll be either there with his live-in girlfriend or at Doctor’s Hospital. But I’d start with the hospital. Since Ray’s death, he’s been spending more time throwing himself into work.”

  She tore the page from the pad and passed it over. Shaun accepted it, slipping it into his notepad.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something?” Mrs. Parsons asked.

  “Of course,” Shaun said.

  “What does ‘the hunt ends here’ mean? Do you know?”

  Aidan and Shaun exchanged glances. Although the police and FBI alike knew about the phrase, it was part of the details that hadn’t yet been released to the public.”