CHAPTER THREE
The FBI field office in Missoula was deserted, which made perfect sense given the early hour of the morning. Caffeine was still fueling Alison’s system, but she knew she would crash at some point. All she needed to do for now was to get as much work done before that happened.
"You can take this desk." Claire pointed to a small wooden desk, completely empty. "I’m sorry that it’s out in the main area, but we don't have a large office here."
Alison took her laptop from her bag and placed it on the desk. "Don't worry about it; this will do just fine. I’ll need some credentials to get logged into your system."
"I can do that for you now," Claire said. She pointed to an open door on the opposite side of the office. "That’s the staff canteen. Again, pretty small, but there’s always coffee in the pot, and any of the snacks in the cupboard are fair game."
"Thanks," Alison said. "I’ll see how long I can last on coffee, and then I’ll go back to my motel.
Claire left Alison for a few minutes to get login credentials, which allowed Alison time to get set up and grab a mug of coffee from the canteen.
As she walked back to her desk, she felt calm.
The empty office did that to her, and she could focus on the killer.
She did her best work when working with someone else, but she enjoyed working alone.
When Claire returned, she got Alison set up on their system. Alison checked her phone. It was five am, too early to call or text Derek. She’d messaged him when she landed, but he hadn’t seen it yet.
The double green ticks by the message would have given her an additional sense of peace. He wasn’t with her on the case, but he was only a phone call away, and he would drop everything to help in any way he could.
"Okay, that should do it," Claire said. "If you find that you don't have access to anything, you can let me know. Other than that, you should be good to go. You think that the three prison victims are the way to go?"
"I think it’s the best place to start," Alison said.
"When more agents arrive, I would like to get some of them and local law enforcement to help. We’ll need to know everything we can about Torres—any family in the area, known associates, that sort of thing.
Then, we can look into Dr. Kent. Maybe she had contact with Torres after the decision to transfer him.
The more we know, the more dots we can connect. "
"Before there’s another murder," Claire said.
"I often hope I’m wrong, but I’m often not.
" Alison yawned. She lifted her arms and stretched out her body, yawning again.
"Torres was transferred and killed three people soon after. It makes sense that someone is out for revenge for one of the victims, so that’s where we start.
When you get in contact with local law enforcement, I want them to start talking to anyone else involved in the decision to transfer Torres.
I know from experience that Dr. Kent will have made a recommendation, but the final decision is not hers.
That information might give us some clues to who is next if the motive is the transfer of Torres. "
Claire stood silent for a second, nodding her head slowly. "Sorry, it's just so interesting to watch you work, to listen to you. There’s just so much that I wouldn’t think about so immediately. I’m going to enjoy working with you."
"As long as you do the job, I’ll enjoy it too," Alison told her.
The two women went to work, working through any files connected to Torres.
They looked at the prison where he was incarcerated, the guards who worked there, and the other prisoners he shared cells with or was a known associate with.
He seemed to be reasonably well connected on the inside, but he didn't have a lot of people on the outside—no one who was on good terms with him, anyway, and none of his family lived in the area.
The investigation into the three people killed threw up a lot of information. They all had family and friends in the area, especially the prison guard. He left behind a wife and kids, along with a brother and a cousin. What they read suggested he was well-respected in the community, too.
All of that told Alison they would need a lot of grunt work done—going to doors, talking to people, and getting information.
The office building filled up as they worked. Agents and administrative assistants came in, and some of them were introduced to Alison and assigned to the case. Claire made contact with the police chief to give him a heads-up and ask for assistance.
With the people filling the office came the dawn, and the office took on a golden hue for a while before the light became more white.
Alison was intrigued by a shout from the entrance to the building, and when she looked over, the man standing there gathered more of her attention.
He was tall and held himself as if he were or had been in the military.
There was a security about him that suggested law enforcement.
He spoke and acted with ease in the FBI offices, but he obviously wasn’t an FBI agent.
Alison couldn’t say why she thought that; she just knew.
"Who is that?" Alison asked Claire.
The agent looked over. "Dale Kent," she said sadly. "Rachel Kent’s brother. He must be here to pick up her personal belongings."
"What does he do?" Alison asked.
"He was a detective for about twenty years before he became a police captain. He's spent decades working on violent crimes, and now this."
"I should speak to him," Alison said. "I’m sure I’ll bump into him sooner or later, and he likely knew the victim better than anyone else."
Alison left her desk and approached Dale.
He was in his fifties, just like Rachel, and his face was weatherbeaten.
He had a plethora of wrinkles, and his skin was sallow and grey, hanging slightly loose.
His eyes were hooded and dark, his hair short and neat, as he might have been taught to wear it in the military if he did that before law enforcement.
He was a large man, and despite his age, he looked like he could get into the ring with just about anyone and go ten rounds with them.
"Mr Kent?" Alison asked when she got to him. She put out her hand. "I’m Dr. Alison Payne. I’ve been brought in to help with your sister’s case. I’d like to offer my condolences."
Dale looked at Alison in silence for a few seconds, and she got the impression he was sizing her up.
She did the same to him. The tightness of his jaw showed his justified fury, and while his eyes were dark, there was a growing fire in them.
They told her that he was a man who would take things into his own hands when needed. He reminded her a little of Derek.
"What do you have so far?" he asked, his tone guarded, hiding his rage.
"We’ve only just begun," she told him. She didn't want to hide anything from him and was sure he would be able to find out all the information he wanted, but there was currently nothing to hide. "We’re waiting on the autopsy to come back, and from what I’ve heard so far, there was no DNA left at the scene.
We know the murder weapon was a blade of some sort, but we can't be certain of what type of blade. To be honest with you, I don't think we’ll know much more until we can talk to a lot of people. It will take time, as I’m sure you know. "
"I know how it works." A simple response, but one laced with venomous meaning. If she were in his position, and to some extent she was with her sister, she wouldn’t be able to rest and let someone else take the lead. She would have to be above it all, and she had the feeling Dale Kent was the same.
"We’re all on the same side here, but you’re too close to this, Mr. Kent," Alison said.
"No beating around the bush. I have to admire that. And I have to ignore your plea also."
"I’m one of the best there is at this," Alison told him. "I flew all the way from Oakland, and there’s a reason I was brought in. I’m sure you’re going to ignore any warnings I give you, but I must ask you to let me do my job.
I will allow you to offer assistance where it is needed, but I can't have you going vigilante on us. "
"You’ll allow me?" Dale scoffed and smirked. "I appreciate your graciousness, but I don't answer to you, Dr. Payne. I don't answer to anyone at the moment, and when I find the son-of-a-gun who did this, justice will be swift."
Alison was afraid of that. She didn't bother to inquire about the sort of justice he might dole out to save him from being vague and skirting around the subject when they both knew exactly what he was willing to do.
"Just don't get in my way," Alison warned.
"Let’s hope we don't get in each other’s way," he countered.
"I know this city. You might be a hotshot over in California, but that means diddly squat here. Find her killer, and I might change my opinion on that. I will be looking for my sister’s killer, and I really hope that I find him before you do. "
"Promise me that if you do find him, you’ll let me know?" Alison asked. "I know what’s in your heart, Mr. Kent. I’d rather not be chasing my own tail if our killer suddenly goes missing after we find out who he is."
"All right, agreed," he said. "Now, if we’re done, I’d like to get my sister's things and go home."
"I want to know more about her first," Alison demanded.
"You are obviously upset about your sister in a way that tells me the two of you were close.
Is there anything you can share with me?
Anyone who might want to hurt her? Any threats recently?
Anyone suspicious hanging around? New acquaintances?
Things like that. You know how all of this works. "
"Yeah, all of that probably. She was a forensic psychologist, and the bulk of her job was dealing with convicts. It would be unusual if she weren’t receiving threats. Do you have any idea what her job entails?"
"It just so happens that I do," Alison replied. "I work the exact same job back in Oakland, death threats and all. I also know that they are not always threats. I’ve been threatened dozens of times, and I’ve also had an ex-convict come after me.
I take death threats very seriously, so if she has received any recent threats, then I want to know about it. "
Dale’s shoulders slackened a little. His jaw loosened, but his mouth tightened.
You’re not a man who likes to be wrong, are you? Now, you’re worried that you might have misjudged the severity of any recent threats.
"She did mention recently that she received some threats. I don't know what they were or who they were from, but I assumed, like all the other, they came from within the prison, that there was nothing to worry about. Oh, geez!"
"It’s probably nothing, but I like to cover all my bases," Alison said. "Help me get the information I need, and let’s start discounting it from the investigation, yes?"
"I think they were letters. They’re probably still in her home. She always kept stuff like that."
"Let’s go there together," she said. "Let’s find out how serious the threats were.