Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Usually, her mother took care of Fred when Laurel’s work kept her away for extended periods. In Deidre’s absence, Dolores, a family friend, had been watching Fred. Dolores had an affinity for animals, her house full of them, and she didn’t seem to mind having Fred around. Laurel had fetched him on the way home, preferring the cat to be with her when possible. It was good to have him here, especially now. He gave her something normal to focus on.
Huck returned from stacking another log on the fire, settling down on the couch beside her, though he kept a respectful distance from the cat. Fred tended to be selective about his affection, and Huck wasn’t always on the approved list. Huck stretched his legs out, propping them on the table with an ease that spoke of exhaustion.
Her phone rang, shattering the quiet moment. The caller ID showed Special Agent in Charge Norrs calling. Laurel pressed the speaker button, her gaze still on the fire as she spoke. “Hi, Agent Norrs,” she said.
“Hi, Laurel,” Agent Norrs replied, his tone clipped and all business. “We think we found the location the sniper shot Dr. Sandoval from. It was about seven hundred yards away up in a tree blind. We’re pulling all CCTV from the area, but nothing useful has shown up yet. I’ve got everyone keeping an eye out for that black truck, too. I’m starting to think these situations are related.”
“That is certainly a possibility,” Laurel responded. Had Dr. Sandoval been killed instead of her? Her stomach rolled over.
“I’ve requested all of your case files from DC and we’re putting together a team here in the Seattle office dedicated to this,” Agent Norrs continued. “When somebody shoots at one of ours, we take it seriously.”
“I appreciate that,” Laurel said, her gaze finally shifting from the fire to the window where the night pressed in. “I can help you go through those.”
“That would be great. For now, have you ever dealt with a sniper as a suspect?”
Laurel scratched Fred’s chin, her mind pivoting neatly to the question at hand. “No.” The certainty of her answer matched the clean, organized catalog of her memory. “None of my cases in DC or in any of the other jurisdictions where I’ve consulted have centered around a sniper.” She mentally categorized former investigations. “I’ve caught a few serial killers, and people who committed violent crimes involving guns, but never a sniper like this. The level of precision and distance involved . . . it’s different.”
The fire popped, a sudden burst of sparks flaring before settling again. Huck stretched his legs farther onto the table, his fingers tapping absently against his knee.
“How about a case that this reminds you about?” Agent Norrs asked.
Laurel mentally sorted through the cases she’d worked over the years. Her thoughts moved in straight lines, each file opening cleanly and closing just as neatly. “I can’t even think of any ancillary suspects or witnesses who may have had sniper experience. We don’t usually conduct deep background checks unless someone stands out for a specific reason. Maybe military experience, but even then, we focus on what’s relevant to the crime.”
“Is there any direction in which you can point me?”
She shifted Fred’s weight on her lap and his claws kneaded the fabric of her jeans. She didn’t deal in maybes or vague hunches. Every observation had to be grounded in something real.
“There was one case in Kentucky,” she said, filtering through the details. “We caught a serial killer who kidnapped women, abused them for several days, and then shot them. Execution-style.” The memory came back with clinical clarity, her brain slotting each fact into place. “His name was Henry Jones Phillips. He came from a family of four boys, and I believe two of them may have had military experience.”
“That case was about five years ago, right?” Agent Norrs asked.
“Yes. I’d zeroed in on him early. He ended up confessing and is serving a life sentence now.” Laurel adjusted Fred again, her fingers brushing against the thick fur along his spine. “His brothers were interviewed as part of the investigation, but only in passing. They weren’t considered suspects because they hadn’t been in contact with him for years. From what I gathered, the family had splintered.”
The fire crackled again, and Huck’s gaze fixed on some point beyond the dancing flames.
“The brothers weren’t close?” Agent Norrs prompted.
“Not from what I found. Sporadic contact, maybe a Christmas card here or there. That was all.” She shrugged, the movement more for herself than Norrs. “But I can’t rule it out. Just . . . none of them ever registered as a serious possibility.”
“Got it.” The click of keys on Agent Norrs’s end had stopped. Now there was only the low hum of his breathing, his focus probably every bit as exacting as hers. “I’ll need to bring you in for a formal interview soon. I know you’ve already given me everything you have, but protocol’s protocol.”