Callahan And McLane: Targeted - Part 3
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Part 3

"When I heard that I immediately thought of Vance Weldon," continued Zander.

"Our agent who committed suicide last week?" Ava asked. "I didn't know him. I only knew the name."

Zander looked grim. "He was found hanging in his garage wearing a Freddy Krueger mask. I already had Ben reach out to the OSP detective at the coast scene and let them know we might have a related case."

Ava stared at him for a long moment before looking to Ben and Mercy. She'd known the office had been shaken up about the man's suicide, but she hadn't heard details. A horror mask seemed like a detail that would have rocketed up the gossip chain. A dozen questions shot through her brain.

"You're familiar with Freddy Krueger?" Ben asked.

"From A Nightmare on Elm Street. He kills kids in their dreams." She paused. "But Vance was a suicide, right?" she slowly asked.

The three agents exchanged a grim look. "We're taking another look," said Ben.

Ava looked at Agent Kilpatrick. "I a.s.sume you know more about Vance's . . . suicide?"

"Correct," the domestic terrorism agent stated. "Special Agent Weldon was found hanging from the rafters of his garage last Monday by his wife," she said in an even voice. "The Vancouver Police Department got the call, and they handled the investigation, but I was a.s.signed by our agency to work with the police and oversee our interests."

Ava nodded. She'd heard Vance Weldon worked in Domestic Terrorism. Besides the usual concerns for the agent's family's needs, this sort of incident would require interaction from the agency to rule out any foul play that might have been related to his job, and to make certain any sensitive intelligence was properly secured.

"What did you conclude?" Ava asked. She took a closer look at Mercy Kilpatrick. She had the long dark curls of a Kardashian but the intense presence of a highly experienced agent. Intelligence radiated from her gaze, and Ava wanted to know her better.

Mercy furrowed her brow. "I never saw or read anything in the reports to make me doubt it was a suicide. Even his wife said he'd been struggling with depression."

"Kids?"

"None."

"What about the horror mask? Surely that stood out in the case as something that shouldn't have been there."

Mercy shook her head. "Special Agent Weldon was a collector. He had a fascination with horror movies, especially Freddy Krueger. He actually had a little side business going where he sold Freddy Krueger gloves online."

"Gloves? Like the glove he wears in the movies with all the blades?" Ava asked. It was the character's primary weapon.

"Yes. His wife showed them to me. He makes them and they look straight from a movie set. Not sharp, though," she added quickly. "His wife couldn't say for certain that the mask was his, but she said it would be the type of thing he owned. He had a lot of horror movie memorabilia."

"Is there a Pinhead mask missing?" Ava asked.

"We're trying to find out," Ben said. "I've left a message for the wife to call me back."

"There's no way the captain's death at the coast could be a suicide," said Zander. "His neck was deeply slashed and there's no knife left behind. I've heard of people cutting their own necks, but hiding the weapon in time? Can't happen. And the only blood found was right with the body."

Ava nodded. Hiding the knife after cutting one's own neck would leave a large blood trail. From what she was hearing, everything indicated murder for the captain. "But two horror character masks on two dead law enforcement officers within a week is too big to ignore," she said flatly. "We need to be involved and take a closer look at our agent's death. If it wasn't suicide, it could be related to one of his terrorism cases."

"Agreed," said Ben. "I'm a.s.signing it to you and Zander, but I want you to head to the coast death scene first because it's fresh. Do what you need to there, and then start looking into the Weldon case. Agent Kilpatrick will get you everything you need." He held up a hand as Ava opened her mouth. "I'm operating on the a.s.sumption Mason will soon be officially cleared of any involvement in his boss's death. If I recall, the two of you were in San Francisco at the beginning of last week, correct?"

Ava nodded.

"Then he wasn't involved in our agent's death. Right now that's good enough for me."

His logic was a bit weak, but Ava knew he didn't have anyone else to a.s.sign. She wasn't about to argue with him; she wanted the case.

She looked at Zander. "Ready for a trip to the coast?"

"Special Agent Vance Weldon was discovered hanging in his garage at six thirty A.M. by his wife last Monday morning," Zander summarized from the file on his lap. He'd been making calls and reading case details to Ava as she drove toward the ocean. "A stool in the garage had been kicked over and his hands weren't bound. His wife Sharon briefly tried to get him down, but realized he'd been dead for several hours and called 911."

"That's horrible," Ava murmured, envisioning herself trying to wrestle Mason down from the rafters and then realizing he was cold with death. "First on the scene was patrol from Vancouver?"

"Yes," said Zander. "This report says she begged them to cut him down, and the first two cops at the scene did it."

"Destroying evidence."

"Being human," countered Zander. "I'm not sure what determines if they have to try to resuscitate. I imagine it's hard to come across a hanging and make yourself leave the body up there, wondering if getting him down could have saved him."

Ava reluctantly agreed. It was easy to say from the comfort of a distance what the officers should have done; it was a completely different experience to be standing in their shoes next to a hysterical wife.

"What else does it say about the scene?"

"He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. His wife said it'd been the clothing he'd worn the day before."

"So he never made it to bed. She didn't notice until the next morning?"

"His wife said it wasn't unusual for her to go to bed before him." He studied his laptop screen. "The rope was turned in as evidence, but since it was ruled a suicide no testing was done. The wife couldn't say if the rope came from their house or not."

"Who did the autopsy?"

"Seth Rutledge."

"As the head medical examiner in the state, he runs a tight ship. I have a hard time believing he got one wrong," Ava said.

"We don't know he did," said Zander pointedly.

Ava pressed her lips together as she kept her focus on the highway. Zander was right. She was making a.s.sumptions. Horror masks. Law enforcement. How could one be suicide and one be murder?

Do they both have to be one or the other?

"It's bugging me, too," Zander said. She shot him a smile.

Zander Wells had developed into a good friend. Formerly with Cybercrimes, he'd managed to extend his temporary loan to the Violent Crimes Unit into a long stay. He'd told Ava that as much as he liked tapping on his keyboard all day, he liked the diversity of Violent Crimes better. Mason claimed the agent had wanted more than friendship from Ava, but she didn't quite believe him. Zander had never spoken of his feelings to her, but she'd always felt a vibe of admiration from him. She liked to believe it was a result of her work ethic. Not romantic interest.

Oddly, her close work relationship with Zander didn't bother Mason. If anyone was to be the jealous type, her slightly redneck, old-fashioned-values cowboy fiance would be the man. But he liked Zander and wasn't threatened by his presence. Ava had eyes for no one but Mason.

I should set Zander up with Cheryl. Her neighbor was also her wedding planner. She could see the two of them as a good match.

Hmmmm.

"We could be on a wild goose chase," said Ava, putting matchmaking out of her head. "The masks could be pure coincidence. You ran a VICAP search with horror masks as one of the criteria?"

"I ran several using a blend of different key words. I didn't find any other crimes with horror masks and law enforcement in common."

"What about without the law enforcement terms?"

"Some oddball things turn up, but nothing that feels right."

"What's Weldon's history with depression? Has he tried to commit suicide before?" Ava asked.

"He has a few years of counseling and medication. His wife thought it was well under control. She says he had a pill swallowing incident in his late teens when he was away at college."

"He did?" Ava asked sharply, surprised he'd made it through the FBI's rigorous testing and background checks.

"She says he never told anyone, didn't go to the hospital, and the police weren't notified, so there's no record."

"It's just her word."

"His mother verified his wife's story. She knew about the pills and says her son admitted it to her about a year after it happened. He'd appeared to have turned his life and mental state around, so she chalked it up to a bad month."

"A bad month," Ava repeated, the words souring in her mouth. If only the rest of the world had her experience of living with someone with serious mental illness. She understood her twin was an extreme case, but it helped her see people living with lesser conditions in an understanding light.

"I know," said Zander. "But we don't know how Weldon behaved when he lived with her. From the outside he could have appeared symptom-free and never let her know what was going on. They might have had very normal lives."

She felt him studying her and stared straight over her steering wheel.

"How's Jayne?" he asked.

"She's good."

"How's she really doing?"

She glanced over at him. Nothing but concern showed on his face. She forced her apprehension at her sister's name to fade away. "I get an email from her once a week and I always write back."

"As you should."

"She's watched very closely. We were lucky to get her into such a good facility. I communicate regularly with her treatment coordinator, and she's optimistic for Jayne's health. Jayne even found a shop that was willing to show some of her paintings."

"Her watercolors? She had enough to show?"

Ava was pleased that Zander remembered Jayne's pa.s.sion. They'd had a lot of discussions about her twin. "She made some new ones recently. I was impressed enough to buy one and another shopper bought one while I was there."

"Her art doesn't suck," stated Zander.

Ava grinned. "No, not at all."

"What's her doctors' plan for her future?"

She was silent for a long moment. "To slowly move her into independence. Keep her on medication and therapy schedules." It was nothing new to Ava. She'd dealt with the same plan for her twin a dozen times. Would it work this time?

"And your plan for you?" he asked softly.

"Keep my distance. Keep my eyes on my own life."

"Her suicide attempt nearly destroyed you."

Ava said nothing. Zander had witnessed part of her emotional collapse from the strain of Jayne's death wish. "Can we not talk about it right now?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I just worry-" He stopped. She glanced at him, but his focus was directed out his window.

"I appreciate your concern. I really do," Ava said. "It's still very fresh." She felt horrible for shutting down the conversation, but her twin was difficult territory, and she knew Zander understood. He had his own demons he didn't like to talk about. She knew he'd been married and his wife had pa.s.sed, but he'd never opened up about it.

Unlike her, who'd spilled her life history when he'd asked.

Maybe she needed to ask him questions about his wife. Her nature was to not pry into what someone didn't easily share, but it'd always felt right when Zander asked about Jayne. He never gave lip service.

"I'm glad you came back to work. I'd wondered if you would," Zander said.

Her heart warmed. "I wondered, too. It feels good to be back. It was the right decision for me."

"Turn left at that next road," he directed. Ava turned off the winding coastal highway. They'd been following the road for several miles, getting occasional gray glimpses of the ocean. The Oregon Coast was stunning on a sunny day, and even on the gray days it had a wild beauty, but Ava found it depressing after the warmth and energy of the Southern California coasts. The water was icy no matter the time of year.

"I hoped to see the bay," said Zander. "It's farther down the highway."

"We can drive down there when we're done."

She followed his directions for another ten minutes, heading east and away from the water. They went around a curve and Zander swore under his breath. News channel satellite trucks lined the road on both sides. Ava scowled at the intruders, wondering how Mason was handling the publicity. He hated press. Especially when it hit close to home.

A sheriff's deputy stepped into the road and held up his hand. Ava slowed to a stop.

"Our turn," said Zander.

5.

Mason's heart jumped as Ava stepped out of her vehicle.

Every d.a.m.n time. All he had to do was see her and his day brightened. She immediately spotted him in the crowd and smiled. Her familiar dark ponytail and warm smile made everything better. He suddenly needed to hear her speak, hear her low voice that always set his stomach aflutter.

Fluttering in a masculine way.

He was pleased to see Zander Wells climb out of the pa.s.senger's side. The agent's sharp brain never stopped processing, and he brought invaluable deductive skills that Mason wanted for this case.

Denny's body had just been taken away. Because of his position and the odd circ.u.mstances surrounding his death, he was being transported directly to the primary medical examiner's office in Portland instead of one of the closer morgues. Mason knew Ava and Zander would have preferred to see Denny still in the crime scene for their investigation, but they'd have to settle for photos. He was relieved the FBI had been brought in to a.s.sist on the case because it had resources that OSP and the county sheriff could only wish for.

He wanted the best for Denny.