Patterson turned back to his computer. “He works in the contracts division at one of the DC offices.”
“That’s an odd career move, don’t you think?” Melanie wondered. “Did he request the transfer?”
Patterson looked again. “Yes. According to his record, he was transferred by request for personal reasons.”
“Does it list the personal reason?”
“That’s confidential, I’m afraid.” Patterson frowned.
“How close would I be if I said it was to be closer to his ailing mother?”
“You really have been doing a lot of profile research.” He snickered.
What is it about serial killers and their mothers?
“Let me think about this. People like him have strict routines. They have to be in control.” Melanie ruminated. “Can you give me his location?”
“Excuse me a minute.” He got up from his chair and swiveled his monitor slightly in Melanie’s direction. He walked out of the room for ten seconds, giving Melanie a chance to glance at the screen, snap a photo of Wayne’s most current ID, and scribble down his work and home addresses.
Patterson cleared his throat as he returned. “Remember, burn-bag.”
“Roger that.” Melanie knew he was referring to placing written information in a bag and burning it. Most people would be surprised at how much information is exchanged via paper. No electronic fingerprints. She thought of Major Beale. That was her specialty. As long as people were stupid enough to leave a cyber trail, Major Beale would have a job. It was astonishing how reckless people were. It made catching the lawless a little easier, but the number of crimes was growing exponentially.
Melanie drove home that evening with a new sense of purpose. Two, actually. She was getting out of the crime business and moving on to a new career. But before she turned in her badge, she was going to settle an old score.
She took a few days off work to formulate and execute her plan. She was familiar with the neighborhood where Wayne Howell worked. It would be easy enough to set up a stakeout. She’d arrive an hour before the building opened to ensure she had a good perch. Close enough to see who came and went, but far enough so she would not be spotted. She scoped out the neighborhood and found a parking place near a café. She went inside to survey the place, check the location of the restroom, and purchase a mocha latte, then returned to her car.
She knew once Howell was in the building, he wouldn’t leave until after his shift ended. She had an official parking badge she could flash if any traffic officers questioned her. “Official business,” was all she had to say.
By seven thirty, people were bustling to their places of employment. She checked her phone again to be sure she had a clear image of what Wayne looked like now. He had some gray at the temples and was now wearing glasses. His face was thinner, but she recognized those engaging eyes. After all these years, she still didn’t know who she was angrier with, him or herself.
She spotted him among three other people. Two were women. He must have said something to make them laugh. She wondered if he had stopped his heinous deeds or if he was grooming new victims. She noted the direction from which he came and which door he entered. There was a municipal underground parking garage nearby. Most people who worked in the area parked there. They got a special government discount.
An hour later, she got out of the car, making sure her hat and sunglasses were in place. She stretched her long legs and leaned against the side of the vehicle.
Melanie looked at the well-kept townhouses and the immaculate streets. Washington DC was a contradiction. It was a power playing field, filled with thousands of agendas, most of which were not necessarily in the voters’ best interest.
It troubled her that the people of the country were not well represented. Politics was a career, and not an act of civic duty. She wanted to get a bullhorn and yell, “Term limits! No more lobbyists!” That outburst would get her fired and arrested, but she knew almost every American would agree with her. She could probably raise bail money easily. She chuckled at her fantasy. But, dang. Someone really should do it.
It was getting close to lunch, and people were milling about. She noticed one of the women who had been walking with Howell earlier. She quickly ran toward a man close to her age. They kissed. Not a target for Howell.
Melanie got comfortable in her car and waited. As predicted, Howell didn’t leave the building until four thirty. Her eyes followed him across the large patio area, and then he disappeared behind the hedges that led to the garage. Routine. Her plan for the next day was to go to the cafeteria during lunch. She would be incognito and keep a good distance away. She wanted to observe him with other people.
Melanie knew she was onto something. She’d had a weird vibe when she’d first seen him that morning. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t a visceral reaction. But she had witnessed many demons in her career. She could feel that he was one of them.
She made her way back to her apartment and heated up some leftover chicken her mother had dropped off the day before. She was glad she was close enough to home to get a good meal, but far enough for the quiet space she needed. She missed cuddling with her favorite doggie, but she made an effort to spend time with him on the weekends. Having a desk job had its perks.
Melanie scrutinized the schools that offered degrees in psychology that would also be eligible for government reimbursement. There was one hitch. If you didn’t get your degree, you had to pay all the tuition back. Melanie knew that wouldn’t be a problem for her. The sooner she got her degree, the sooner she could get out. She imagined buying a modest cottage in a small town, getting a couple of dogs, and working at an elementary school. She would have her mother help plan her gardens. She was jostled from her musing by the phone. It was Patterson.
“What’s up, boss?” She knew it had to be important for him to be calling her at home.
“They found another body.”
Chapter Nine
The Pursuit
Melanie postponed her stakeout and went directly to the office the next day. The team was meeting in a conference room.