Page 29 of The Guilty Trial

“We work with what we've got,” Marze said plainly. “Right now, that means being thorough. Missing something because we rushed won't help anyone.”

Allie knew he was right, but the knowledge didn't ease the sense of urgency pressing down on her. They had two victims in less than a week, and both were powerful legal professionals.

They walked back through the ravaged house, past all the destruction the killer had left in his wake. Outside, the afternoon sun felt too bright, a little too normal against the darkness they'd just witnessed. Allie paused on the front steps, welcoming the fresh air as it worked to clear her head.

The weight of what they were dealing with settled fully over her now. An Assistant U.S. Attorney and a District Court judge were both dead, branded like cattle. Those numbers had to mean something. And now they knew Sterling’s murder wasn’t isolated, and that meant the person responsible was already planning his next move.

Chapter Fifteen

FBI Field Office

Tacoma, Washington

Jim MacKenzie had been thorough, collecting five years of Sterling's prosecutions and organizing them in neat chronological order, complete with defendant names, witness lists, and outcomes. Allie spread the printouts across the conference table. Each case summary represented a potential lead or dead end in the investigation.

She picked up a cover sheet, scanned it, set it down, then picked up another. The rhythm was already becoming automatic. Across the table, Jason worked through his own stack while Marze did the same. The silence in the room was broken only by the occasional rustle of paper or quiet clearing of a throat. Scanning through five years of federal prosecutions was going to take a while, but it beat the alternative of missing something.

What they knew about Judge Vance painted a picture of a man relaxing after a successful career. His daughter lived abroad with her own family but came back to visit roughly twice a year. The judge filled his days with golf and the occasional lunch at his club. Four times a week, he could be found on the greens at Chambers Bay. The rest of the time, he generally kept to himself.

Allie studied the neat columns of information, recalling what Park had said about her boss. Sterling’s cases—primarily drug trafficking and white-collar fraud—were the standard workload for an Assistant Attorney General in a federal prosecutor's office.

“Anything jump out yet?” Jason asked.

“Not yet.” Allie scanned the next page. “But there has to be something. We won’t be able to connect any dots until we’ve gone through all this and detect any potential patterns.”

The glass door to the conference room swung open, pulling her attention from the documents. A man in his fifties entered. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, and his presence commanded without effort. Allie recognized Elias Thorne immediately. The U.S. Attorney for the Western District of Washington carried himself with the authority of someone appointed by the president himself and who had earned his position through decades of work in the trenches before ascending to one of the highest leadership positions in his field.

Marze stood and extended a hand. “Elias. Thanks for making the drive over.”

“I would have been here sooner, but I just returned from Spain last night. Spent a blissful two weeks hiking without a cell phone. When I finally got back to civilization and turned it back on, I learned about Sterling. Then I landed to news about Judge Vance.” He shook his head in disdain. “What do we know so far?”

Marze gestured to the papers spread across the table. “We're moving as quickly as we can, but we're still in the information-gathering stage.”

Thorne pulled out a chair and sat down, his gaze moving over the documents with skilled efficiency. Allie watched him take in the scope of their work, the methodical approach they were using to sift through years of legal proceedings. The work she did here every day, the arrests and interviews and evidence collection, all of it existed so they could send their cases to people like Thorne for prosecution. They were two sides of the same coin, different roles with the same mission.

“Any leads?” Thorne asked.

“None,” Jason said, his frustration obvious. “A union head didn’t pan out, and we spent time on another one—Aris Bennett.”

“I remember him. Nasty piece of work.” Thorne’s voice filled with disgust. “Doctors are supposed to help people. What happened with him?”

“He was at a casino during Sterling’s murder and was already dead himself when someone got to Judge Vance.”

Thorne absorbed this with a slight nod. “Since we don’t know what their connection is beyond the work they did putting criminals away, I’m concerned about my other staff members. I've contacted the U.S. Marshals Service, and they're arranging personal security for several people in my office, anyone who worked closely with Sterling or who might be at risk. The courthouse is doing the same. We're doubling down on building security across the board.”

Allie glanced at Jason, who met her eyes briefly before returning his attention to Thorne. The fact that the U.S. Attorney had personally driven from Seattle to Tacoma spoke to how seriously he was taking the threat to his own people.

Marze nodded in agreement. “Until we identify the suspect, it's smart to assume anyone connected to federal prosecution could be a target.”

“Agreed.” Thorne stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “Keep me updated on any developments. If you need resources, personnel, anything at all, you let me know. Let’s see how quickly we can get some answers."

“So what do we know for certain?” Jason asked after Thorne left. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

Allie pulled a blank sheet of paper toward her and began writing as she spoke. “The killer is targeting his victims late at night when no one else is around. Both crime scenes show he's capable of breaking in without leaving obvious traces of forced entry.”

“He's angry,” Marze added. “The way he tossed Sterling's cabin and Vance's study suggests rage. This isn't just about eliminating threats. It's personal, though he isn’t directing that anger into the actual murder.”

Jason’s brows lowered. “I don’t know, the branding could easily be a form of rage. Especially if the victims were still alive. The knife would incapacitate them so they couldn't fight the brand.”