Extreme Liquidation: Caitlin Diggs Series #2 Page 10

  Caitlin walked into Dudek’s office, finding him shuffling papers on his desk. Caitlin knew the assistant director succumbed to this form of distraction when things were dire. Hainsworth must be pressuring him to close the case. She braced herself for his reaction to her latest news.

  “How are you, agent?”

  “I’m here and ready for work.” Although Dudek had only been alluding to her headache from the previous day, her heart beat with anticipation. She suspected Rivers had ignored her request to keep her abduction a secret.

  “I must give you some unpleasant news, sir.”

  Dudek dropped a paper he had been holding.

  “Early yesterday morning, an unknown assailant attacked me in my apartment complex. I was taken from the residence after being knocked unconscious. I was held captive for perhaps seven, maybe eight hours. I was released, unharmed, and returned back to my apartment.”

  Dudek’s eyebrows arched. Diggs suspected her superior doubted her story. .

  “I’m quite disturbed to hear this, Caitlin. You can’t recall anything else about the attack? Were there witnesses? And damn it, why did you wait to tell me now?”

  “Because, sir, the events of the last twenty-four hours have produced more questions than answers. As you see, I am quite perplexed myself. I waited to tell you, hoping I could piece together a theory—a motive for the abduction. Honestly, I have none.”

  “How do you know you’re all right?”

  “I was checked out at the hospital last night. I was not sexually violated.” She met Dudek’s eyes, which bore the look of a worried family member. “The worst I suffered is this—” She stopped to point at her face. “—fat lip. In light of this, I chose not to file a report with the police. I think this incident might best be kept confidential at this point.” She paused.

  Dudek nodded. He didn’t need to verbalize a response. Caitlin realized her emphasis on the word “confidential” alluded to Director Hainsworth’s possible participation.

  “My gut instinct tells me I was taken because of the Salinger investigation. I found this.” Rummaging through a duffel bag, Diggs produced a bagged surveillance device. She handed it to the director. “I believe this is proof positive Greg Salinger was set up. Whoever put this in my apartment had to know a murder would take place shortly. They wanted to monitor my theories on the case after it happened.”

  “Is that all they were looking for? Do you feel these men only wanted to hear your theories? Because if that’s the case, why did they bother to kidnap you?”

  “I am confused about that as well.”

  “How do you think they managed to get into your apartment?”

  “My younger sister Tara moved in with me. I believe a moving man distracted her on the stairwell while another person planted the device.”

  “I’d like this moving man’s name. Let’s run a background check on him.”

  “I’ll give it to you. But I know he’s not involved.”

  “Why?”

  Diggs cocked her head, offering a faint smile.

  “Of course. Your gut told you this. Well, in the meantime, I will have this bug analyzed.” Dudek paused a moment to peruse the dime-sized device contained in a zip lock bag. “I don’t believe it is FBI issue. But it will tell us who might have had an interest in your conversations. Don’t worry, Caitlin, we’ll get them.”

  Diggs’s energy level began to nosedive. If the surveillance device wasn’t FBI issue, it might make it very hard—or impossible—to implicate Hainsworth. She knew Dudek’s words were only meant to comfort her. He was disheartened as well, but as her superior he had to feign a positive outlook. Despite this, she never interpreted his behavior as deceit. No matter. If Hainsworth wasn’t involved, they had no lead as to who was.

  “So where do we stand in this investigation, sir?”

  “I’ve read Agent Rivers’s report. It leads me to believe someone utilized a cutting edge drug to control the actions of Greg Salinger. Unfortunately, since this drug can mask itself as simple ethanol and behave like a virus, our pathologists are going to need quite a bit of time to build the kind of evidence a jury requires.”

  “And even if we do prove such a drug exists, we still don’t have a suspect. Please, sir, don’t sugarcoat it for my benefit, tell me how much time we have before the director forces you to close the case.”

  “Before you walked in here, I contemplated how I would break the news to you. Hainsworth has ordered us to close the case. He wants it labeled as a murder and suicide—nothing more.”

  “What about Deondra? How can he dismiss what happened to her?”

  Dudek turned his face away to release a sigh. “He’s willing to drop further investigation into Rivers’s alleged alcohol use in exchange for closure to this case. He’s demanding my final report be on his desk Monday morning. But since you feel your abduction ties into our pending investigation, I am going to force him to extend the deadline.”

  “What makes you think he won’t balk at your suggestion?”

  “Because if he chooses to ignore your abduction as simple happenstance, I believe it will only serve to validate his possible involvement. He can only protect himself by feigning shock to the news. He must demand further investigation. An abduction is much more serious than suspicions of drug abuse on the Bureau’s grand scale. Besides, it’s a code of honor thing in addition to being a federal offense . If somebody messes with one of your own, you must do everything in your power to right the situation. He must pretend to care about your welfare, Caitlin.”

  “So you’re looking at my abduction as a good thing?” Before Dudek could respond, she broke into a smile. “That’s quite all right with me, sir.”

  Diggs enjoyed her small victory on her way to Quantico. She had steered clear of divulging any revelations about her visions. She had also kept her best link to the perpetrators—the fuchsia robe. Now she would pray pathologist Ed Hoyt could also keep a secret. She would ask him to violate Bureau procedure.

  Without speaking a word, Diggs pulled the robe from her duffel bag upon entering Hoyt’s lab.

  Wrapped in plastic, the garment prompted Hoyt to quip. “We no longer do dry cleaning. But I can recommend a great place up the block.”

  Hoyt’s smile disintegrated when he examined Diggs’s bruised lip.

  “What happened?”

  “I got into an altercation of sorts.”

  Diggs admired Rivers’s vow of secrecy. She had even kept the news from her boyfriend.

  “And how does this robe...”

  Diggs finished his question. “...Fit in?”

  Hoyt’s eyes bore into Diggs. She knew he wanted to hear her theory. She broke the gaze with a shake of her head.

  “I can’t go into detail, Ed. I’m looking for any kind of transfer you can find on this. Fibers, saliva...” Diggs halted. She hoped Ed would get the point. She didn’t feel comfortable including vaginal contributions or blood samples in her request.

  “Sure, I’ll get it logged in and I’ll run tests within the half hour.”

  “No, Ed.”

  Hoyt frowned.

  “This will not be logged in. Furthermore, you’ll tell no one else besides me about these findings.”

  “You know,... I really don’t appreciate clandestine requests. The bad guys are supposed to live in shadows, not us.”

  “If you don’t do it, I’ll have to find other channels.”

  “Don’t put a guilt trip on me, Caitlin. I think I’ve stood by long enough, keeping my mouth shut, while you jeopardize Agent Rivers’s career.”

  “This is not about your girlfriend.”

  “It will be. Next, you’ll be asking her to bend or break a few more rules. Protocols may not matter to you, but they do to me.”

  Caitlin felt like she had been punched in the mouth. Verbally. Where was this rage coming from? Ed respected rules, but he also respected manners. He had never come off sounding so brash before. A vision of Ed, gun in hand, formed in her
mind. Maybe her visions were affecting those around her. Would he eventually behave as he had did in her dream?

  Ed spoke again, his gun-toting doppelganger fading from Diggs’s mind.

  “We could all lose our jobs over this.”

  “As I said before, I’ll seek out other channels.”

  “No, I don’t want you to strong arm someone else with this. I’ll do it. If this analysis can somehow explain how Deondra nearly lost her job, it may be worth losing mine. I won’t even tell her about this.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to know any more, because if Internal Affairs investigates this, you can blame the whole thing on me. I’ll take the fall.”

  Ed hung his head. “I don’t want anyone but criminals to take a fall.”

  “At least we agree on something. I’ll drop by tomorrow to pick it up. I appreciate this. I can tell you one thing, this robe might be the only way to track the people responsible for drugging Gregory Salinger. You’re doing a good thing, Ed.”

  Diggs left Ed with little else but the robe. He could only suspect internal involvement. If that were the case, how the hell could he ever hope to protect Deondra?

  ***

  It is 1946. Black magician Aleister Crowley realizes he is dying. A life of wanton excess is now consuming him. But before he goes, he needs to know if ascension awaits him. He practiced magic all his life to take a seat next to the gods. He is convinced they live behind a golden gate. Death may take him there or choose to deposit his soul into yet another vessel.

  Desperate for confirmation of either outcome, he meets with renowned clairvoyant Edgar Cayce. The psychic enters into a trance and tells Crowley he is the reincarnation of Pope Alexander VI and magician John Dee. Crowley frowns with disapproval, realizing time is of the essence. True to his moniker, the wickedest man alive, Crowley rises from his chair, demanding Cayce answer his most pressing question: Will he ascend to the Heavens?

  But his tactics fail. He is too weak in mind, body and spirit to conjure such black will upon others. He falls back into his seat. This upsets him because he realizes the next vessel he may enter may be inferior, incapable of imposing any modicum of will upon others—or worse, be incapable of achieving even the simplest feats of alchemy.

  As a young man, Crowley wrote papers praising Nazi Germany, hoping the fascists might evoke Armageddon through their madness. He believed this madness might have pushed the allies to the brink of insanity, to consider dropping the H Bomb in retaliation—to make the end time a reality. Only then could he secure his way through the gates because no human vessel would exist to house his soul. He would then ascend, on a golden plane, all the way through to the other side where the gods reside.

  But now, all these plans are fleeting dreams. He succumbs to unconsciousness when Cayce begins prophesying .

  “The end time might be achieved in the next millennium. In this future, several countries will lay claim to advanced nuclear weaponry. One push of the button is all it will take...”

  Crowley stirs in his chair. His hands want to reach out and grab Cayce, to demand exactly when this end time will occur, but he is too frail now to even threaten physical punishment. His life is approaching another coda. Will he repeat another lifetime as a human? His desperate thoughts echo in Cayce’s mind. The prophet attempts to answer. He confirms the black magician will return in human form. Only this time, odds are great he will successfully manipulate the desired outcome.

  Cayce warns against codependence. “You must play an active part. Take charge of the reins and an opportunity will arise, giving you the means to plant the seed of destruction.”

  Crowley submits to fatigue unable to hear Cayce, verbally or telepathically...Crowley mumbles something nearly inaudible.

  “I’ve slept with faith and found a corpse in my arms upon awakening....” Cayce shudders as though ice has been pumped through his veins.

  He awakes from his trance, realizing his folly. His premonitions may very well liquidate humanity. Cayce has instructed the wickedest man alive on how to achieve the end time. Worse, he has also given Crowley hope. The fruition of his prediction plays before him in his mind’s eye. He sees Crowley living in a crowded city, utilizing a new vessel to bring about the end time. Filled with despondence, Cayce succumbs to a wave of guilt and exhaustion. Crowley feeds upon his despair to revive himself. Cayce is now the frail one. He knows there is nothing he can do. Ironically, he has no premonition to tell him who he will be when he is reincarnated. Nevertheless, he knows the vision is indeed an ill omen for all souls concerned...

  Chapter 14

  How would she ever come to understand this contradiction?

  Caitlin Diggs hadn’t been thinking of herself, FBI personnel or even Tara for that matter. The fuschia-colored robe had kept her attention ever since she took it back. Lab pathologist Ed Hoyt turned the piece of evidence back into Caitlin’s anxious hands three days ago. She still believed it provided the one link to her kidnappers.

  The problem was, so did Hoyt and Rivers. Their conclusions had been drawn from the real world. Despite no positive tests for bodily fluid or foreign skin samples, the FBI lovebirds believed Caitlin’s abductors had made a fatal mistake returning the veteran agent to her home with tangible evidence in her hands. For that reason, Caitlin’s FBI colleagues implored her to check the apparel into an evidence locker and resume her investigation using normal Bureau channels.

  Diggs realized Hoyt and Rivers might never come to understand the contradictory motives that now coursed through her veins. The robe had to be a conduit. Why else had her abductors dressed her in it? They weren’t fools. Lab tests confirmed they hadn’t left a shred of physical evidence concealed within the robe. Even Hoyt believed the kidnappers never touched the garment without the benefit of gloves.

  It all made perfect sense to Diggs. She couldn’t utilize normal channels to unlock the message the robe held because it would never be a tangible piece of evidence. Her kidnappers had made sure of that. Only psychic channels might hope to uncover the secret it concealed. And as far as Agent Diggs knew, no FBI department channeled information through extra sensory perception. She was the only abnormal link in the agency’s chain. Consequently, she would be the only one capable of receiving and understanding its psychical and polemic communications.

  A small part of Caitlin acknowledged the danger. The robe might very well lead her down a dangerous psychic trail. Enlightenment might come at the cost of mental anguish. She understood Hoyt and Rivers feared for her safety. Perhaps their conventional trappings prevented them from coming right out and saying the obvious: that continued exposure to the robe might fuck up her mind. No, they couldn’t say this, because then they would admit to belief in the supernatural.

  Diggs surmised Hoyt and Rivers had no other option but to rationalize physical evidence might still be found, despite extensive forensic examination that screamed to differ. Diggs appreciated their concern. Logic dictated caution. Nevertheless, the exposing of oneself might expose others and perhaps an epiphany. A small part of Caitlin became obsessed with this notion. She wanted answers about herself as much as her case. The agent had no one else to turn to.

  Only an atypical investigative tool might begin to explain her transformation over the past few months. She had become a seer, at least when she was in an REM state. What’s more, her emotions were becoming harder to control. A few days ago, she laughed at Ms. Petersen’s vulgar joke as if she were a braying jackass. She could never recall such an outburst before, especially while on duty. She respected her position too much to let bad manners put her in a bad light. Other than her contact with the crystal, what unseen force might be responsible for sharpening her intuition and supplying her with unbridled fits of emotion?

  Diggs conceded to the allure of this inquiry—the one pursuit of enlightenment that might reveal if her changes would be beneficial or harmful. Her dreams in the flotation tank had suggested past behaviors might influence those around her. Should she subm
it to this change for the good of all? Diggs would follow the most perilous course; she would live in a state of conflict with both her better judgment as well as her colleagues. She must find her answer.

  The robe called out to her, inviting opposition, daring her to take hold of its imaginary brass key and turn the lock into what some might label as the netherworld. Using the robe as a psychic tether, Diggs might not only discover her reason for transformation but also make it quite possible to find those responsible for Salinger’s death. Even more chilling, she might make contact with the world of the dead.

  She could not shake the strange deductions her alpha mind had made at the conclusion of her abduction. Instinct begged her to consider the implausible—a dead person may now be engineering a wave of duplicity to achieve egregious and clandestine objectives. This proposition led her further astray from her initial assessment. She now fought the urge to blame Salinger’s death or even her abduction on FBI Director Connah Hainsworth. The power of suggestion that now emanated from the robe convinced Caitlin to consider less obvious suspects.

  ***

  For three consecutive nights, Tara held her tongue. Why was her sister parading around the house in that horrific robe? For Tara, it not only symbolized Caitlin’s abduction, but her own irresponsibility. Tara swore she could experience a sinister energy about the apparel every time it came into plain view. Even Celeste, who enjoyed perching herself upon Caitlin’s shoulder, had kept her distance the past few days. Tara would not share this concern with Caitlin. Tonight, Tara finally had some concrete news about her undercover assignment.

  After spending three consecutive grueling days at Genesis Biopharmaceuticals—grueling only if one considered flipping through the pages of People magazine and the book Workplace Conduct grueling—Tara would deliver her investigative findings. She didn’t expect to be interrupted two sentences into her report. Workplace Conduct cited interruptions as inappropriate unless the affected employee performed in a fashion deemed reprehensible. Still riddled with guilt over Caitlin’s abduction, Tara decided to forego a reprimand. She would forgive her sister. Her momentary silence prompted Caitlin’s eyes to wander.