Chapter 28 #2
It is clear that you are no better than the others. I am completely disappointed in you. We believed in you despite the fact that no one else did, and you let us down. You pretended to be a hero when you were no such thing. I tried to save you as my Deirdre wanted, and you could not be saved.
Now you will regret your actions. Allowing Worth to die was unspeakable. Taking my dear sweet Deirdre was an unpardonable betrayal. I am not a murderer, and your failure has made the world believe I am. I have nothing now . . . because of you. No son, no wife, no honor.
The next communication you receive from me will be your worst nightmare. And this time, there will be no clues.
The rules have changed. You think you have suffered, but you have not suffered at all. Not yet. Though you are about to learn what true suffering feels like.
Pray for death, McBride . . . it will be your only escape from the pain.
Martin Fincher
“He’s out for revenge now, McBride,” Pierce said, stating the obvious. “We’re going to need to keep you in protective custody until we nail this guy.”
“You know he’s not going to play with anyone but me,” Ryan countered. “So let’s not even go there. This started because of me, it’ll end the same way.”
Pierce looked frustrated, but he kept any additional comments on the matter to himself.
“Okay, let’s get on with this, then. Birmingham PD’s providing surveillance on Fincher’s home and at the morgue where his wife and her various parts are being held for an autopsy.
Pratt, you and Davis go back to Fincher’s home and see what you can find.
We’re looking for someone he knows or a relative—someone that he might be staying with.
He has to be hanging out somewhere. Does he own any other property or vehicles?
“Talley, you and Aldridge keep things moving with local law enforcement. We don’t need any bottlenecks.
Grace, you and McBride dig deeper into Fincher’s son’s death.
Make sure there isn’t anyone else connected to that tragedy that he could use as a victim.
” Pierce’s full attention moved to Ryan then.
“I want a list of anyone close to you he might try to hurt to cause you pain.
“Schaffer,” Pierce said lastly, “stay on top of the ME’s office about reports. We need to know anything and everything as it’s available.”
The roomful of agents jumped to action the second the final order was issued. Every last one of them wanted Fincher badly.
Grace pushed back her chair. “Why don’t you get started on that list, and I’ll get coffee. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I could use a cup.”
No sooner had Grace walked away than he’d forgotten the list. His mind had shifted to the timeline board. Schaffer had updated it thoroughly.
What did this bastard have up his sleeve now?
He wanted to hurt Ryan; that part was clear.
But how did he plan to do it? He was damned original in his scheming.
That worried Ryan the most. As fairly simple as most of his challenges had been, Ryan was certain he could be a master at this if he wanted.
That list Pierce suggested, and Grace had reminded him about, nudged its way into his thoughts.
It would be damned short. There was his mother and father, whom he barely knew anymore.
And there was Grace. Fincher had mentioned her in a couple of his emails.
Fear coiled in Ryan’s gut, constricted his chest. That was where Fincher would strike.
Even the idea of it made Ryan sick to his stomach.
“Agent McBride.”
Hearing the title attached to his name startled him. “Yeah, Schaffer. What’ve you got?”
“Agent Pierce wanted me to give you Worth’s collection of files on the Devoted Fan investigation.”
“Great.” He accepted the folders. “Thanks.”
He dropped the stack onto the table and went in search of Grace. How long did it take to get coffee? Even if she’d had to make it, it should be done by now. He didn’t want her out of his sight.
She wasn’t in the lounge. No coffee had been brewed. He checked the ladies’ room and the men’s room. Then every office on the floor.
The unthinkable possibility that something had already gone wrong started to leach into his bones.
He fought it back, refused to even consider it.
They were in the FBI field office, surrounded by an iron fence with an armed guard at the gate.
It took a key card to get inside, and a dozen armed agents were milling about in here.
“Have you seen Grace?” he asked Aldridge when he passed him in the corridor.
“Not since I was in the conference room.”
Ryan started to run then. He barreled into Worth’s office, where Pierce had taken up residence. “Have you seen Grace?”
Pierce’s expression turned as anxious as his had to be. “No. She was with you in the conference room . . . what, ten minutes ago?”
“Something’s wrong.” Ryan pulled out his cell phone and entered her number. A ragged breath whooshed out of him. “She’s not on the floor.”
“Maybe she went to her vehicle to get something she forgot,” Pierce offered.
Ryan hoped he was right. Five rings and her phone went to voicemail. His gaze locked with Pierce’s. “You’d better lock this place down.”
Pierce rocketed to his feet, reached for the phone on the desk. “We’ll find her.”
If she was even still there . . . but she wasn’t. Ryan already knew . . .
The next communication you receive from me will be your worst nightmare . . .