A Different Dawn (Nina Guerrera) Read online

Nina leaned forward. “But car motors are loud, the mother and father would have heard the noise and woken up. The unsub would have had to break in, subdue the family, then set the scene. Was there evidence of trauma to the bodies?”

  “The ME found blunt force trauma to the husband’s skull and sleeping medication in the mother’s system,” Philly said. “Detectives concluded the wife hit her husband with a shovel from their garage before taking the sleeping pills. They figured she wanted to die in her sleep after what she’d done to her family.”

  Nina thought about what they had learned from the Doyle crime scene in Phoenix and grasped the cruel but efficient methodology. “But in reality, the killer could have forced the mother to swallow the pills by threatening her child.”

  “Highly likely,” Kent said, echoing her thoughts. “I believe that’s how he got Meaghan Doyle to step into the bathtub in the most recent case.”

  “I think that’s how he’s controlled the mother at every scene,” Wade said. “Using her child to terrorize her would add an even higher level of torment, which seems to be a main motivation behind his crimes.”

  Nina felt sick at the thought that someone who was incapable of emotions had learned how to use them against the women he targeted for his sick retribution. Their very capacity to feel love made them vulnerable to him.

  “Going back twenty-four years, we have a case in LA,” Buxton said as Breck switched to the final agent in the virtual link to the meeting.

  The Los Angeles field office agent popped onscreen. “Ours was a stabbing fairly similar to the one in New York. LAPD concluded the wife struck her husband on the head with a metal lamp before stabbing him multiple times in the upper torso. She appeared to have suffocated the baby before jamming the same knife used to kill her husband into her own throat.”

  The crime scene photos on Breck’s screen were in stark contrast to the Philadelphia case, in which everyone appeared to be asleep.

  Nina saw blood sprayed all over the walls and carpet. “The mother’s alleged motivation this time?” she asked.

  “Infidelity,” LA said. “The husband had been frequenting a prostitute. The wife found out, confronted him, and it all went downhill from there.”

  “How did the wife learn about the prostitute?” Kent asked.

  LA glanced down at his notes. “The police report doesn’t say how she knew, but she left a suicide note indicating a woman she simply referred to as a ‘hooker’ approached her with evidence of a relationship with her husband. The woman reportedly wanted money for an abortion and the husband wouldn’t pay, so she went to his wife.”

  Nina was skeptical. “All of this was in a suicide note?”

  LA held up a copy. “The LAPD had the handwriting analyzed. The wife definitely wrote it.”

  “Because he forced her to,” Wade said. “No doubt he threatened her baby.”

  Nina could picture the woman writing the letter with trembling hands. “She had to know she was writing her own death warrant. He must have promised to let the child live if she cooperated.” She glanced at Wade. “But you believe he would have made sure she knew her baby was dead before he killed her.”

  He inclined his head in affirmation. “If it’s all about torturing the mother, he would have viewed that as the worst pain he could inflict.”

  “Did they track down the prostitute he was supposedly with?” Breck asked. “I mean, is there any reason to believe he actually paid for sex, or that he had gotten someone pregnant?”

  “The police never found anyone they could link to him,” LA said. “Everything was circumstantial, and it fit with the scene, which looked like a domestic fight gone off the rails.”

  “The jealous wife,” Wade said. “LA was only the killer’s second attack. That ploy worked the first time in Phoenix, so he would have been confident it would work again.”

  “He was right,” Nina said.

  “Which brings us back in time to the very first case,” Buxton said, turning to Nina. “What did you and Detective Perez find out today?”

  “Enough to convince me the Llorona case is part of the series.” She quickly brought the team up to speed on their investigation.

  When Buxton seemed impressed by the observation of the blood-spatter discrepancies, Perez interrupted Nina’s account to make sure the boss understood that it had been her discovery alone.

  “We’ll need to take a closer look at the crime scene photos in the other cases,” Buxton said, then turned to Wade. “Your thoughts?”

  “I can draw one firm conclusion.” His gray eyes roved around the room and up to the screen, where their fellow agents from around the country watched and listened. “We are dealing with a unique predator. He is severely disturbed yet able to pass himself off as normal, even charming. He is ruthless, manipulative, and completely without conscience. He’s a shark swimming in the ocean, and we have to find him because he will keep killing.”

  Chapter 17

  “Let’s review the most recent case.” Buxton glanced to his left. “Agent Kent, what do you and Agent Breck have to report about the Doyle investigation?”

  “They were both medical professionals,” Kent said. “We split up the work. Breck looked into Mrs. Doyle’s patients and professional contacts, and I checked on her husband’s. There were no red flags. Both seemed to have highly professional reputations, and there were no pending malpractice actions or complaints. Everyone who worked with either of them had nothing but praise.”

  “If I recall correctly, Mrs. Doyle planned to leave her practice after she had the baby,” Buxton said.

  “She wanted to be a stay-at-home mom,” Kent said. “Everyone at her practice told us how much they missed her as well as how excited they were for her.”

  “Several of the staff from both offices even helped them move into their new home six months ago,” Breck added. “People definitely like you if they’re willing to help you move. It’s the ultimate test of friendship. Even with the help of a moving company, there’s still a thousand things to pack up . . . plus the stuff you don’t trust anyone else with.”

  “They had been living in a high-rise condo in downtown Phoenix,” Kent said, “but decided they wanted a house and a yard when they started their family. They must have begun looking for a new place right after they found out they were pregnant.”

  “They purchased the house almost immediately,” Breck said, glancing at her computer. “Put the condo on the market. It took about four months to sell, but they made the move quickly.”

  “Wait a minute.” Nina recalled something she had seen in the Llorona case file. “Didn’t Maria and Victor Vega move into their home shortly before they were killed too?”

  “Let me check.” Breck’s fingertips flashed over the keyboard. “Found it. They moved in right after Christmas, about two months before the murders.”

  “And the Doyles,” Nina said, not sure where this was going but anxious to follow the breadcrumbs. “Exactly when did they move into their home?”

  “September first,” Breck said. “About six months before they were killed.”

  Unconcerned about protocol, Nina took it upon herself to address the agents linked in on the screen. “Did any of you find out or did the police note anything in their reports about a recent change in residence for the victims?”

  The agent from the New York office spoke up. “The family in our case relocated from Jersey about three months prior to the attack.”

  Nina held her breath as the other agents typed on laptops, checking their files.

  “They moved into the house just over a month before the crime,” the Philly agent said. “They had planned to do it earlier, but there was some trouble finalizing the mortgage. The extended family said the couple worried they wouldn’t be able to get settled in and set up a nursery before the baby came.”

  “Where did they move from?” Buxton asked.

  “Across town. They were living in an apartment and bought a house once they found out the wi
fe was pregnant.”

  Buxton glanced her way. “This is beginning to sound familiar.”

  “We don’t have anything about a recent move in our files, but we’ll check on it right away,” the San Diego agent said as his coworker stood and walked out of view.

  “Same here,” the Chicago agent said. “It never came up.”

  “Ditto,” Houston said.

  Not surprising. The city police in these jurisdictions believed they had a homicide-suicide on their hands. There would be no reason to investigate how recently they had moved into the house where they lived.

  Nina pressed on while their fellow field agents scrambled to fill in the blanks. “So far, several of the couples initiated a move to a larger residence when they learned they were expecting a baby.”

  “Makes sense,” Kent said. “Since it was their first child in each case, it’s presumable that they would want more children in the future and needed the extra space.”

  Nina considered the ramifications. “Selling their home and relocating also makes it public that they are expecting a baby a lot sooner than when the wife starts showing. In other words—”

  “The fact that they were having a baby might be widely known,” Breck said. “And far in advance of the birth.”

  “But a C-section date wouldn’t,” Wade said. “How would the unsub know about that?”

  Nina didn’t have an answer, so she focused on other clues. “Don’t forget he’s got four years between each murder to plan. Maybe that’s why he targets only big cities. He needs a large pool of victims to choose from in order to meet his criteria with several backups ready.”

  “So he decides what city he wants to hit, then waits until it’s a few months out from leap day and starts checking to see who wants to move houses due to an upcoming baby,” Kent said.

  Breck frowned. “But realty companies don’t put upcoming childbirth announcements in their databases.”

  “My wife is a real estate agent,” the Chicago agent said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Realtors always know the background on buyers and sellers. It’s part of their job. They might tell a potential buyer that the seller was moving to a bigger place due to a growing family. That way the buyer wouldn’t be scared off thinking it’s because the neighborhood is bad or there’s something wrong with the house.”

  “That’s true,” Wade said. “I remember the last time I sold my house. I told the real estate agent I wanted to move closer to work, and I also asked her why the homeowner was selling the place I was buying.” He paused. “It all comes back to the Realtor.”

  “But would that kind of information go into a database?” Perez asked doubtfully.

  “My wife puts details like that into the private comments other agents could see,” Chicago said. “The public couldn’t access it, but another Realtor could. She’s also called sellers’ agents on behalf of her clients to find out that information in some cases.”

  “I’ve just heard back,” San Diego said, breaking into the discussion. “Our couple relocated from the other side of the city four months before the murders.”

  “Us too,” Chicago said a moment later. “Our victims sold their house and moved into a different neighborhood five and a half months before the murders.”

  “I’ve got something interesting,” Houston said. “The couple in our city bought the home five months prior. Get this . . . they relocated from Phoenix, Arizona.”

  “Who was their realty company?” Nina said.

  “Rubric Realty.”

  Nina had heard of the huge national corporation. Some of her fellow FBI agents from the Washington field office had used them when they were reassigned, having the same realty company deal with both the sale of their previous homes and the purchase of their new ones.

  “Did they handle both ends of the move?” Buxton asked.

  “Yes, Rubric Realty’s Phoenix branch sold their old house, and their Houston office took care of the purchase.”

  Buxton directed his next comment to Breck. “How many of the cases involve Rubric Realty in some way?”

  Breck had previously downloaded police reports from every case, which included the victims’ addresses.

  “Give me a moment,” she said. “I’m pulling the public records for each address.”

  A few minutes later, she pumped her fist. “Bingo.”

  Buxton leaned forward. “Let’s hear it.”

  Breck looked up from her computer. “Every single case involved Rubric in some way, either representing the buyer, the seller, or both.”

  “Were there any real estate agents who were personally involved in more than one transaction?” Buxton asked.

  “Thomas Kirk,” Breck said, glancing back at the screen. “He works out of the Phoenix branch. He handled the sale of the condo and the purchase of the new home for the Doyles. He also sold the home for the couple who relocated to Houston twelve years ago.”

  “Run him,” Buxton said. “How old is he?”

  “Fifty-one,” Breck said after a quick check.

  They all exchanged glances. Kirk was old enough to have committed the crimes. They finally had a viable lead.

  “Guess what?” Breck said, then continued without waiting. “He’s got a juvenile record.”

  “For what?” Wade asked, excitement animating his normally placid features.

  “It’s sealed,” Breck said. “All juvenile criminal history is.” She tapped the screen with the back of her pen. “But I’ve worked with these codes long enough to know that this one means there’s an underage conviction.”

  Buxton frowned. “What else can you find?”

  Breck bent back over her keyboard and began typing. “He attended elementary and middle school in Tucson, then got a GED from the state of Arizona, so I’m assuming whatever crime he committed was in Arizona as well.”

  “Why no high school info?” Nina said.

  Wade frowned. “I’m guessing because he was in juvie during those years.”

  Made sense to Nina. “Is there a youth detention facility in Tucson?”

  Breck glanced up. “Yep. And I’ll bet that’s where our boy was. Give me some time and I’ll dig up the dirt.”

  Nina didn’t want to ask too many questions about how Breck would unearth juvenile records, and she noticed Buxton didn’t appear to either.

  “I want to know everything about him,” Buxton said. “Then we need to pay Mr. Thomas Kirk a little visit.”

  Chapter 18

  Two hours later, Nina sat beside Wade in Robert Cahill’s living room. Seated in the chair across from them in his Arizona Cardinals jersey, cargo shorts, white knee-high socks, and black sandals, Cahill looked like a cross between an ad for senior singles and a retired football coach.

  Breck had run across Cahill’s name after confirming that Thomas Kirk had been locked up in a juvenile detention center on the outskirts of Tucson. Kirk had been convicted of robbing a string of convenience stores at fifteen and sentenced to incarceration until his eighteenth birthday.

  Cahill had been Kirk’s supervisory coordinator during his time at the facility. Luckily, Cahill had retired and moved to Tempe, a short drive from Phoenix. Kirk would have been twenty-three years old at the time of the Llorona case, and Wade was convinced his earlier criminal history would provide insight into his motivations.

  Buxton had designated Nina and Wade to conduct the interview while the rest of the team continued their workup on Kirk.

  Cahill had been more than happy to speak with them, and Nina had the impression he welcomed any opportunity for visitors.

  “You want to know about Tommy Kirk,” Cahill said, making it a statement. “I’m sorry to hear he took a turn for the worst.”

  “Why would you say that?” Nina wanted to know.

  “Because the FBI wouldn’t be knocking on my door to tell me Tommy’s getting a Nobel Prize.”

  “True,” Nina said. “We need your help to understand what Tommy was like when he was younger.” S
he deliberately used the nickname Cahill had called Kirk when he was a boy, referencing the part of his life they wanted to know about. “How would you describe him?”

  Cahill leaned back, looking thoughtful. “He was a mean kid when he first came to the center.”

  “Mean?” Wade prompted.

  “Boys will be boys,” Cahill said. “But Tommy took it too far. The slightest thing provoked him. He got in more than his share of fights.”

  Nina refrained from asking what the appropriate “share” of fights for a kid to get in was.

  “You’d classify him as violent, then,” Wade said.

  “To the extreme.” Cahill’s gray-blond head bobbed vehemently. “He formed a tight-knit group of friends at the facility. They looked out for each other, beating the shit out of anyone they felt threatened them.”

  “Nice guy,” Nina said dryly.

  “Actually, he was.” Cahill rushed to add, “By the time he left, I mean.”

  “Could you elaborate?” Wade said.

  “Tommy matured over the years before he got out. He became something like a big brother to the younger kids in his clique. He helped a lot of them after they left the center.”

  “What did he do for them?” Nina asked.

  “In a hard-core facility like the one I worked at, the boys usually age out. In other words, if they were convicted as adults, they would be doing a twenty- or thirty-year stretch, but they’re juvies, so a lot of the judges give them another shot when they turn eighteen.” He grimaced. “The unlucky ones with longer sentences are transferred to regular prison when they come of age.”

  “Was Kirk released at eighteen?” Nina asked.

  “He was,” Cahill said. “The problem comes when the kids are released and no one wants to hire them. Their records are sealed, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where they’ve been. We try to make sure they get a GED and give them vocational training, but any potential employer with half a brain is going to know they served time.”

  This was an issue Nina had observed all too frequently with the adult penal system. It was difficult for offenders to go straight after completing their sentences when no one wanted to employ them. Many turned back to crime to support themselves or ended up homeless.