Chapter 2
Kara walked around the apartment building to get away from the crowd of cops who were going through every nook and cranny
of Garrett Reid’s sparse apartment.
Matt didn’t have to say anything, but she could read between the lines: they didn’t have a good case. Hell, they didn’t even
have a bad case. They had nothing against Garrett Reid for murder. They couldn’t even prove he drugged their food.
She had argued with the task force that they needed to allow the suspect to restrain her and Matt, and preferably take them
off-site before bringing in the cavalry. The sheriff’s department didn’t want to risk an innocent or team member being injured
if the killer suspected a trap, so wanted the takedown contained within a controlled area. Matt concurred.
The plan had been to allow Reid—at the time, their unknown suspect—to restrain one of them, and then the team, who were watching
through a hidden camera, would come in both entrances and take him into custody. Matt didn’t like either him or Kara being
incapacitated, but it was a good compromise.
Unfortunately, Michael thought he saw a gun when Reid reached into his pockets. Fearing one of them would be shot, he ordered the team to go in.
Reid didn’t have a gun. It was a flashlight. But he did have zip ties and duct tape on his person. All victims had evidence of being zip-tied at the wrists and ankles, and one victim
had a piece of duct tape in her hair. It was a small piece of evidence they may be able to match to what they found on Reid
today. Maybe. Not enough to make the case, and they’d need days for the lab to confirm. Even then, the results could be inconclusive.
She would testify, of course. Reid had been humming when he checked first Matt, then Kara. He had touched her hair and said, “This will be fun.”
Reid knew exactly what he was doing.
She shivered. He was creepy; creepier because he looked completely, totally normal. The guy was a killer. She felt it deep
down. But when he reached into his overalls and Michael thought he had a gun, Michael ordered everyone in. Two more minutes.
That’s all they would have needed.
Yes, it was suspicious that he’d come in with a laundry cart big enough to transport both of them, checked to see if they
were unconscious, and had zip ties on his person. But it wasn’t a smoking gun.
From a tactical perspective, Michael felt justified going into the room at the first sign of a threat. Yet he’d told her in
hindsight he wished he’d waited, and considered that he might sign up for more training. He’d been torn because the lives
of his team were in possible danger, and went early. That, Kara understood.
This will be fun.
Dammit, she feared he would get away with it. They had to find something tangible to tie him to the abductions and murders.
She walked around to the back of Reid’s apartment building. He lived in the first-floor end unit. The ground floors all had
tiny fenced patios. The upstairs had balconies.
The six-foot fence surrounding Reid’s patio had no gate; it was practically claustrophobic.
Barely large enough for two chairs and a bistro-sized table, which was all Reid had.
A canal bordered the property thirty feet to the rear; beyond that were acres of marshland.
She shivered. Michael had reminded her there were more alligators in Florida than in any other state. She wished she hadn’t known that.
She didn’t like reptiles of any shape or size.
She glanced around making sure she didn’t see any ground movement that might indicate an alligator was watching her. It was
warm and quiet. Barely even a breeze. She turned to inspect the fence.
Two of the boards were loose. She pushed. They didn’t budge. She pulled from the bottom.
Bingo.
Two boards came up together, revealing a space she could easily walk through—and so could Garrett Reid.
She walked around front and waited for Jim to finish giving instructions to the crime scene investigator. He came over to
her. “Got something?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“I hope so.”
His frustration showed on his hangdog face as he wiped away sweat from his forehead. She didn’t blame him. He’d gone over
the autopsies of all six victims and had analyzed the extensive forensic evidence, but the salt water from the ocean had contaminated
most everything. The sheet and rope were common and untraceable. Many lab tests were still pending or inconclusive.
Kara led Jim through the apartment to the patio in the back and showed him the boards. “He easily could have come and gone
through this space without anyone seeing him.”
“It’s not a crime.” But he looked critically at the boards. “I’ll process them. If there’s any blood or biological evidence,
maybe it’s still here, but this is Florida. The weather is not our friend.”
Jim put his crime scene kit on the ground and opened the top, pulled out fresh gloves and put them on.
“He drives a Ford Ranger. No camper shell, no tarp. Nothing he can easily transport two bodies in,” Jim said as he took out his collection kit.
“Still, the sheriff’s department is processing the truck bed.
They haven’t found any trace evidence that the truck was used for transporting bodies, and there is no secret compartment under the bed liner. ”
“He could have a second vehicle,” Kara suggested. “A van maybe, or a sedan with a big trunk.”
Jim shrugged. “He could. Where is it? Only the Ranger is registered to him in the State of Florida, and no one at the resort
has seen him in another vehicle—though the deputies are still conducting interviews. Maybe someone will remember something.”
He didn’t sound optimistic.
Kara called Matt and told him what they found, thin as it was. “He needs a vehicle to transport two bodies. It can’t be something
that belongs to the resort because they would notice it missing.”
“Flagler Sheriff’s are already checking the ownership of every vehicle in the lot. So far, nothing.”
“Maybe he uses a different vehicle every time,” Kara said.
“Anything’s possible,” Matt said. “Are you heading back to the resort now?”
“I don’t have anything else to do here, unless you need me.”
“We’re wrapping up because it doesn’t look like Reid’s lawyer is going to show today. I’ll meet you there in an hour or two.”
He lowered his voice. “Ryder thinks we should stay the weekend. Everyone else is flying back to Quantico in the morning because
our part of the investigation is over.”
“It’s not over,” Kara said. “I understand that we were just brought in to identify the killer, but I’m worried he’s going
to slip through.”
“I’ll offer our help, but they have a good team and will continue the investigation, with the support of the Jacksonville FBI office. But what Ryder meant was we should stay, off duty. You, me, the full resort, without being watched by the team.”
“Oh. Like a vacation?”
“Exactly.”
“We can stay in the cottage?” That would be fun, she thought. She and Matt had been on-duty 24/7 for the last six days. She
could use some R & R.
“It’s already been processed and cleared, and it’s paid for through Monday, though Ryder got us a flight back late Sunday
because I have a meeting first thing Monday morning. I’ll get it cleared with Tony, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem.
He’s always bitching that I don’t take enough time off. I want to interview staff with Detective Fuentes tomorrow morning,
then we’ll take the rest of the weekend off to relax, go to a nice dinner.”
“We’ve earned it,” Kara said. “See you in a few hours.”
Relax, she thought as she smiled and pocketed her phone. Right. Because both she and Matt were so good at doing nothing.
But a night of good food and great sex? She wouldn’t pass that up. She and Matt had been pretending to be newlyweds but without
the benefits. They’d kissed and flirted and there was a lot of pent-up sexual energy that would be explosive when they finally
had privacy.
Yep, they had definitely earned it.