Cold Silence, page 26
“And felons can’t buy firearms…” Yael finished.
Sloan’s gaze turned sharp. “Nice work, Yael. You should have been an agent.”
Yael smiled tiredly.
Shane nudged her with his shoulder. “Smarty pants.”
She snorted softly. “Sure.”
“We need to make finding Borisky a priority.” Sloan stabbed her notepad with a pen. “Above all the other priorities on the list.” There was a twist of humor in her tone. “Next on the agenda is the shooting last night at Yael’s home. Because of the sheer volume of evidence, I requested another ten agents from HQ. They arrive today.”
“I analyzed the surveillance feed from the security cameras,” Alex said. “The shooter is the same height as the guy in the Evi1Geni-us videos. Same basic build. So is Eric Pierce—but we know Pierce didn’t attack Yael’s home last night.”
“How did he find out Yael’s address? I thought you said it wasn’t public record?”
“It isn’t and he shouldn’t have been able to. Not that fast.” Alex stared at Yael with a pained grimace. “I’ll keep looking into it.”
Sloan looked at Shane. “What’s the update from HRT?”
“Agents tracked the scent down to the creek and then to a field on the other side. K9 unit lost the scent near the road so we are assuming he left a vehicle there. Evidence Recovery Teams are checking the area looking for tire tracks.”
“How deep was the water?” Alex asked.
“Less than six inches. It’s been a dry year.” Shane shifted and his seat creaked. “The agents isolated and photographed some shoe prints so we have an impression. Size tens. No brand yet.”
“If he had any sense, he’d dump the rifle and the shoes in the nearest river,” Alex stated.
“Or ocean,” Frazer added.
“Any eye witnesses?”
The guy with dark hair introduced himself. “I’m SSA Sheridan with CNU. Special Agent Kanas and I were at the bar last night to raise a toast to Kurt Montana.” His lips pressed into a thin line before he continued. “We made ourselves useful by questioning Ms. Brooks’s neighbors. Thankfully no one else was injured although some bullets did penetrate the house directly opposite. The owner was visiting DC for the weekend so he wasn’t hurt. No one saw anything before the attack but several of Ms. Brooks’s neighbors reported seeing a man in dark clothing running into the woods after the shooting stopped. They called the cops at four minutes past ten. A patrol unit arrived in under ten minutes and the first FBI agents shortly thereafter.” He closed his notebook and looked straight at Yael. “Sorry we didn’t find out more.”
She nodded gratefully. It had been nice of them to help out last night and now sacrifice their Saturday to the case. She understood though. This UNSUB threatened everyone’s safety even though he seemed to have settled on her for now.
She thrust the thought aside. She had more protection than most.
“We need to find the shooter and contain him,” Sloan said. “We need to figure out where the shooter obtained the weapon—highest priority is finding the ex-con, Borisky. Then continue to determine how Evi1Geni-us grabs his victims and how he found Ms. Brooks’s home address. And, finally, we need to know whether or not we messed up in our identification of Pierce as Evi1Geni-us. Time to get to work, people.”
“Sounds like a piece of cake,” Shane muttered irritably.
Yael shivered.
“Seems like we’re in luck with one of those items,” Ashley spoke up quickly. “Traffic cop outside Fredericksburg pulled over our ex-con Ronald Borisky for having a broken taillight a couple of hours ago. Driver’s license came back flagged with the warrants.”
Sloan smiled. “Who wants to go get this guy?”
26
Shane walked into the county jailhouse to a lot of dubious looks from the local cops. He guessed he didn’t much look like a G-man in his green tactical pants, black t-shirt and boots. The gold shield he wore was proof enough though.
“FBI Agent Shane Livingstone. Here to pick up a prisoner for transfer.” He handed over a sheaf of paperwork to the desk sergeant along with a request that the evidence response team would be along shortly to remove Borisky’s vehicle. To say the techs were working overtime was an understatement but everyone took an attack on the FBI very seriously—and as Yael was on the task force, they’d now had two.
Normally, they’d send along a local agent to question the prisoner, but Fredericksburg was so close to Quantico it made sense for HRT to come get the guy.
To Shane’s surprise it took less than fifteen minutes before a big dude wearing dirty jeans and a filthy gray sweatshirt was brought out with his hands cuffed behind his back. He had a round face with a triple chin and dark scruff from too many days of not shaving. His eyes were beady, set deep in his face, the whites bloodshot.
He didn’t look scared of the fact he was being detained by the FBI. He looked positively chipper.
Shane signed a form. Nodded to the officers. “Appreciate the good work on this one.”
Borisky snorted. “I was on my way into the police station when they pulled me over. Hey, what are you going to do with my car?”
Shane gave the guy a hard stare. “We’re going to examine it for evidence relating to a recent murder.”
Borisky’s eyes widened then he nodded. “I want it back in one piece. It’s a good car.”
Shane exchanged a look with the police officer and took Borisky by the arm and walked him to the Bucar he’d borrowed from ASAC Sloan.
Shane could have asked Novak or one of his other buddies on the team to accompany him, but he figured it would be better to ask his new partner. After all, Griffin technically had more time in the Bureau as a case agent than either him or Novak. Didn’t mean they hadn’t been good at their jobs but Griffin had an excellent record.
Will Griffin sat in the passenger seat scanning the traffic coming in and out of the jail. Given the lengths EG had gone to in order to kill anyone who’d seen his face, they weren’t taking any chances. They also had an unmarked SUV following them with Cowboy and Meghan Donnelly acting as backup.
Shane fastened Borisky’s seatbelt. With his hands cuffed it wasn’t the most comfortable position but Shane wouldn’t risk him attacking one of them from the backseat.
Griffin shifted slightly so he could watch their prisoner on the ride. Shane climbed in and turned over the engine. He gave Cowboy the signal over the comms that they were ready to leave.
He got a click of acknowledgment.
“So, Ron—”
“No one calls me that. Everyone calls me ‘Boris.’” Borisky had a gruff Eastern European twist to his Bronx accent so that wasn’t surprising.
“So, Boris”—Griffin’s lips twitched at Shane’s exaggerated pronunciation so at least his new partner had a similar sense of humor—“Can you tell me where you were on Tuesday night?”
“Sure I can, but I want a deal first before I tell you anything.”
“A deal?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to go back to prison. I tell you what you want to know and I go on probation.”
“You’re already on probation.”
Boris shrugged and pulled a face. Shane watched him in the rearview. He caught sight of the other vehicle three cars back. His brows rose. Meghan was driving.
“How about you tell us what you know and we’ll tell the judge to go easy on you.”
Boris shook his head and wiped his nose on his shoulder. “Nah. I want a lawyer.”
“What happens if someone else dies in the time it takes for you to cut a deal? Maybe shot with a gun you sold? How lenient do you think the judge is going to feel then?”
Boris’s mouth downturned.
“Or maybe we discover you’re the one who offed the kid at the motel.”
Boris’s eyes closed in what looked like genuine remorse. “I didn’t touch that kid. But when I heard someone had turned up dead, I wasn’t surprised.”
Will Griffin gave a short laugh. “Then I guess the other attacks won’t come as a shock either.”
“Tell us what happened,” Shane urged.
“I want a lawyer.”
Shit.
They sat in silence and let the miles build.
When Boris looked as if he’d relaxed, Shane tried again. “What did the guy look like?”
Boris sniffed. “Like an ordinary guy. I mean it wasn’t until after…” He cut himself off.
“How’d he contact you?”
Boris gave him an are you kidding me look.
“Boris, let me tell you something. We already know you were at the motel. We have you on surveillance camera and your fingerprints in the room.”
The man’s eyes shifted.
“The other guy though? He wiped his picture right off the system and we can’t match prints or DNA because he used so much bleach in the room, I almost went blind walking in there. All we can prove right now is that a weapon you’ve had in your possession was used to shoot a nightwatchman at a motel the same night you were there.”
Boris pulled a face.
The nightwatchman had been suffocated not shot, but Boris seemed to accept the latter. Nothing in the handbook said an FBI agent couldn’t lie to someone’s face if it would get a suspect to open up about a case.
“I want to know what other weapons, suppressors and scopes you sold him.”
Boris blew a breath out of the side of his mouth. “No scopes.” He pursed his lips. “Look, I said I’ll tell you everything but I want a deal first. It’s not my first time around the block.” He was insistent and Shane knew they weren’t going to get anywhere with the guy.
“Call Sloan.” Shane handed Griffin his work cell with Sloan’s number programmed in. “Tell her to have a DA waiting for us when we get to Quantico.”
Shane held Boris’s gaze in the rearview. “Anyone dies in the meantime from weapons you sold this sonofabitch and I’ll make sure you do your time in a max security federal penitentiary. Understand?”
“I am not being difficult. I’m protecting myself.” The guy’s voice turned whiny and Shane wanted to punch him in the throat.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and exchanged a glance with Griffin. He seemed to understand how angry Shane was. Because of this asshole in the backseat some psychopath had been able to get hold of an automatic weapon that last night had almost killed Yael. Shane wasn’t here to make friends or shoot the breeze.
“Why’d he come to you and not buy them legally?”
Boris sweated. Shane may have turned up the heater.
Boris gave a shrug. “My guess is he has a record of some kind. He was paranoid about cameras and anonymity.”
Was Evi1Geni-us in the system? Could he have a record? Have served time? It made sense. Psychopaths had terrible impulse control.
“You deal with a lot of tough guys,” Shane said slowly. “This guy rattled you. Why?”
Boris flicked a glance at him via the rearview. Nodded. “Gave me the creeps. I’ve spent time with a lot of very bad people but no one ever looked at me like that before. He had dead eyes—like a shark, you know?” A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face. “He was short on payment by $100 which is a lot, you know? Told me he had it in his room.” Boris swallowed noisily. “As soon as he left, I did something I have never done before in my adult life. I decided to forget the cash and get in my car and take off. I knew he was gonna come back and try to shoot or taser me.”
“He carried a taser?”
Boris nodded. “Said he wanted an upgrade and laughed about it.”
Shane exchanged a glance with Griffin. It looked like they finally had a witness. Borisky was the wrong size and shape to be Evi1Geni-us and didn’t seem to have the IQ required to fox some of the best computer brains in the world. But then maybe looking and acting like Borisky was exactly what it would take to fox them. Assumptions were dangerous. He’d learned that in Special Forces.
They entered the USMC base and headed to Building 64 where Sloan had arranged to take custody of this man in order to question him. Shane signed him over to Sloan’s temporary guardianship and then drove Will Griffin back to the HRT compound.
They pulled up in time to watch Meghan slam the door of the vehicle she was driving and stomp away.
Cowboy got out the SUV more slowly and ambled to meet them. “Borisky tell you anything?”
“Not yet, but he will.” Shane raised a brow. “What did you do to Donnelly?”
“I don’t think she likes me,” the man admitted. “Said I was hick and annoying and sexist—I asked if she meant sexiest because I get that a lot.”
“You need to go make peace with her.”
“I wasn’t even hitting on her.”
Shane cocked a brow.
Cowboy heaved out a gusty sigh. “Fine. I’ll go find her.”
“And apologize.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Tell her you’re our burden to bear.”
“Ha. I’ll tell her. But I was treating her the way I treat all the guys.”
“Well, that explains it then because you are hick, annoying, and sexist.”
“I’m not sexist. I wouldn’t even be here without one of the bravest women I know pulling strings and putting in a good word for me with a few of the higher ups. What I am, Agent Livingstone, is a gentleman.”
Shane snorted. “Ryan, your idea of being a gentleman is letting the lady come first.”
“That’s the only rule that truly matters.” Cowboy grinned and then sobered. “I was only seeing if she had a sense of humor.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “She doesn’t, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
“She does when you get to know her.” Griffin stood up for her—as he should. They’d gone through Selection and NOTS together.
“Well, I’m glad she’s with Charlie because I think, otherwise, a bullet might accidentally stray in my direction in the shooting house.” Cowboy gave him a repentant smile. “I’ll go see if she’s cooled off, but if I don’t turn up for work tomorrow you better bet your ass she’s murdered me and disposed of the body.”
Griffin flinched.
Shane blew out a quiet warning, “Ryan… For fuck’s sake.”
Cowboy’s lips twisted. “Sorry, Griff.”
Griffin nodded and straightened his shoulders. “It’s okay. Mandy for sure would have busted your balls.”
It was the first time the guy had mentioned his dead girlfriend by name which suggested he was dealing with her death better than Cowboy dealt with the loss of his wife. Ryan knew it too because he shot Shane a look from under his brows. Shane had worked with Ryan Sullivan for three years and the guy still clammed up if anyone asked about her.
And then Meghan was striding out of the building still wearing work clothes but carrying a backpack. She shot them all a look and Griffin raised his hand in greeting. She nodded in return.
“’Kay. Better go sort this before she leaves. Later, guys.” Cowboy strode toward the female operator hopefully planning to beg for forgiveness.
“I actually think that’s one mission he could fail,” Shane mused, watching the pair’s body language.
“Want to grab a beer?” Griffin asked.
Shane shook his head. “Can’t. I have to get back to the task force. I want to know what Boris tells them. See if they came up with any useable leads in the meantime.” He looked at his teammate whose mouth had sunk into an unhappy line and paused. “How about you join me? I’m sure Sloan wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands. But it’s mainly grunt work.”
Griffin’s eyes lit up. “I excel at grunt work. Let’s go.”
Yael slugged back her fizzy water and ate a banana like a good girl. Mallory had arrived with a whole bunch of healthy snacks for the task force. It was amazing how quickly Yael had grown fed up of fast food when it was all she’d eaten for a few days.
It hadn’t escaped Yael’s notice that Jack Reilly was acting as Mallory’s unofficial shadow today. The danger was real. Alex didn’t take chances with his wife’s or daughter’s safety.
The fact Mallory was armed probably eased some of his anxiety.
What was that like? Loving someone whose job was inherently dangerous? The thought hovered unwanted in her mind, distracting her from her focus, but maybe she simply needed a quick break.
Baby Georgina sucked wetly on her fingers as Mallory chatted to Ashley Chen and SSA Sheridan’s fiancée as if they were all old friends.
And there was that aching void again. The fierce burning desire to be part of a close-knit group. To have friends who didn’t turn on you when they found out your brother was a cold-blooded murderer.
Yael bowed her head to hide her errant emotions. She sent Laura a quick text to check up on her again. Her colleague didn’t reply but she was probably sleeping.
Ron Borisky was being questioned by an ADA in a secure room upstairs.
Yael had gone through each of the victim files, although she hadn’t watched the actual footage of the murders. There was no obvious pattern. Victims ranged from a plumber, a schoolteacher, a stay-at-home mom, a mall cop, two students—one male and one female, a judge, and a factory manager. Nothing immediately linked them, although she wanted to dig deeper into their respective backgrounds by going through financials.
Alex slid into a chair beside her with his laptop open. “Hey. I decided to keep searching for where Lloyd Zenko might have crossed paths with EG and then decided to check if the cell they found on Eric Pierce intersected with Zenko’s in the last year.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing.”
Yael frowned. “He could have used a burner. They could both have used burners.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah.”
She knew Alex was starting to doubt that Eric Pierce was Evi1Geni-us. If she was honest, so was she. But the data had fit so perfectly…
“Did you run Pierce’s cell against the murder locations?”
Alex nodded. “No hits. But there were hits for other locations at the time of the murders.”
