Extreme Liquidation: Caitlin Diggs Series #2 Read online

  The man America trusted with their lives made a haphazard dash to his vehicle, staggering as he ran. He slammed the door, gunned the car into drive and sped away without a single thought for safety.

  Chapter 2

  Fantastic , unfathomable events had conspired in Diggs’s life, and like the Miami wind playing underneath her light plum skirt today, they dared to expose something about her at her most vulnerable moment.

  Her sapphire blue eyes moistened with tears, threatening to betray the stiff upper lip she had held inside the courtroom only moments earlier.

  Outside, sitting on the steps of the Dade County Courthouse, FBI Special Agent Caitlin Diggs fought back painful memories. She hoped an unusually brisk Miami wind might reintroduce her to a more befitting emotion for an officer of the law. Maybe it could conjure up one of placidity, or calmness. Detached emotionalism could easily paint a righteous picture for both observer and subject. It could, for example, accentuate a devotion to duty, holding it neatly within a bordered frame for all the public to see. Caitlin Diggs had fallen outside the barriers of any conventional definition of containment, or frame, the past three months—way outside, to be exact.

  When tears began to cloud her vision, she cursed her emotions. She equated her crying with slacking off on the job. Diggs could not rationalize the simple need to be human once in a while. Her mind pleaded for her to get it together. It talked to her. It told her to take command. It reminded her to return to the rational independent life she held before Geoffrey McAllister’s death. Caitlin’s conscience begged for self-justification—or at least a pretty damned good lie—to explain why she stepped out from behind a detached exterior and fell in love with her FBI partner in the first place. Diggs spent the first three decades of her life believing she steered her course of destiny. She had retained this control by living, breathing and sleeping her job. She avoided relationships at any cost, fearing they would compromise her route. Geoffrey McAllister came along like a fork in the road and Diggs willingly took the detour.

  She’d found he supported her course, applauded her brazen handling of superiors and protocol, and pined for a family life. Caitlin realized she could continue to love her job and her man without conflict. When she had completely devoted herself to Geoffrey, he died a senseless death.

  Geoffrey McAllister had kept the sting secret from her, knowing she would have intervened to talk him out of it. Ironically, McAllister instilled in her a sense of partnership, theorizing a team would always be stronger than the individual. Because of this, Diggs became quite perplexed as to Geoffrey’s decision. If he believed in partnership, why undergo a dangerous sting operation alone? The question haunted her more than any unsolved case. Her direct superior, Andrew Dudek wondered if Diggs had reached the breaking point. Caitlin reassured Dudek by making national headlines last October when she stopped what appeared to be a teen serial killer.

  Lukas Schenker had died instantaneously from a brain hemorrhage when Diggs separated him from a crystal he had been wearing during the spree. Diggs surmised the teen had succumbed to the dark wishes of a mysterious arrowhead-shaped pendant. It had created a liaison with the boy, enabling him to track victims with DNA.

  Believing the crystal to be evil, Diggs cast the rock into the ocean, but not before it made contact with her. The only FBI personnel privy to the crystal’s powers were her new partner, Deondra Rivers, and Assistant Director Dudek. A feeling emanating from the pit of her stomach suspected FBI Director Connah Hainsworth had been in collusion with the military to acquire this crystal, yet no hard evidence supported her theory.

  A fellow officer and friend, Boston Crime Lab Detective Stanford Carter approached her from behind. He softly made contact as if he were no more harmful than the breeze now dancing a rumba with Diggs’s long chestnut hair.

  He touched her shoulder. A shock of surprise segued into warmth.

  “You’re a long way from home, my friend.”

  “I wouldn’t miss their sentencing for the world.”

  Stanford crossed his arms at the wrists, allowing his infectious grin to warm Diggs. She drank in the moment as if it were tea. She offered a smile that accentuated her high cheekbones and slightly protruding chin. She held the smile, admiring Carter’s attire for another moment. She imagined Geoffrey dressed in Carter’s charcoal suit, midnight blue shirt and slate gray tie. It comforted her. Carter, like McAllister, epitomized a kindred spirit. An open-minded investigator, he respected instinct as much as any rulebook.

  Caitlin and Stanford smiled into each other’s eyes for a long moment. He patted her shoulder gently, acknowledging her pain. Stanford’s tie involuntarily joined the wind’s flight of fancy. They laughed hoping to extend a few more seconds of unexplained happiness.

  A much darker reality awaited them.

  The men inside the courthouse had taken nothing less than Caitlin’s soul. . Their motives, still painfully unclear throughout the trial, remained safely in chains. Prepared to face the death penalty, neither of the killers extended the slightest reach to take an offer from the prosecution.

  On the surface , it simply appeared as a sting gone wrong. The men had slain FBI Special Agent Geoffrey McAllister upon discovering his identity during a phony weapons deal. They sustained their front throughout the trial, convincing Caitlin their insides were hollow. No remorse. No additional insight. No ratting. No revelations. Murder without conscience. The media labeled the two men as terrorists. A nation hungry for justice once again looked favorably upon the Bureau. Even the names of these men—Abul-Matin Ali and Asad Hashim—seemed to fit the bill nicely. Almost too nicely for Agent Diggs and Detective Carter.

  Never one to take a headline at face value, the officers came to Miami to witness justice for their fallen comrade. Nobody would suspect an ulterior motive for witnessing the sentencing; it simply spelled respect. Their real desire to come to Miami lingered well below the surface of media headlines and public consciousness. Diggs and Carter came to Miami to seek out the man behind their plan, a man they suspected to be none other than FBI Director Connah Hainsworth. With the aid of a smug veneer, the suspects had successfully kept the director’s name out of the court’s transcripts.

  “I don’t know why they didn’t give him up.”

  Carter mulled a second before answering Diggs.

  “They were never supposed to have been caught. And I never would have been given the chance to make the arrest without your psychic ability, Caitlin. These men were supposed to be phantoms. I wish the country, and especially everyone who wears a badge, might one day give you the full credit you’ve got coming.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t do this to accept credit. Besides, I think the country might have a problem with how I got the evidence.”

  “You mean they might not believe how it came to you in a dream.” Stanford’s brown eyes smiled. “You know I have to believe there are others like you, Caitlin. Whether they see visions in waking hours or in slumber makes little difference. You are proof positive that our minds are still our best resource. In fact, it was your vision that told me where to find his killers.”

  Carter had arrested Ali and Hashim off shore as they traveled to Boston via yacht. They had spent nearly six months out of the country after fleeing McAllister’s murder scene. Because they killed McAllister in Miami, the men had been extradited to Florida from Massachusetts.

  Diggs surmised her contact wit the crystal initiated her visions. She pointed a finger toward her forehead. “I guess I should have thanked the crystal for giving me my gift.”

  Diggs’s sarcasm was not lost on Carter. He smiled. “I think your gift is the universe’s way of sending you a new partner. Not to disparage Special Agent Rivers, I simply feel you now have the best tool an investigator could ever wish for.”

  “You sound pretty sure these visions are going to be a good thing.”

  “Call it gut instinct.”

  “I hope they will help me expose Director Hainsworth. He had to be in
collusion with Ali and Hashim. And now they’re all protecting each other.” Caitlin paused to wrap her arms about herself as if the wind had suddenly chilled her. “I know this, Stanford. Without the need of any vision.”

  Carter nodded in agreement.

  Diggs wrapped up her conversation with Stanford, noting she could now accept his offer to adopt Celeste, a white Tonkinese cat. The agent did not want to let Stanford think his presence had not comforted her, nor did she want to come off ungrateful regarding his kind offer three months prior. .

  “Tara can help take care of Celeste when I’m on assignment. She has relocated from California. Isn’t that great?”

  Stanford beamed, happy that Diggs’s younger sister would also be lending support. Her eagerness to explain reminded Stanford of the old Caitlin.

  The Boston CSI insisted Diggs take the animal last October to buffer her loss. Diggs had requested more time, knowing her FBI travel often took her away from home. Stanford also wanted Diggs to take Celeste for another reason. He believed the cat to be psychic as a result of one of his murder investigations.

  As if on cue, Diggs’s cell rang immediately after sentencing.

  Assistant Director Andrew Dudek spoke with a strange uneasiness, requesting her immediate assistance in Washington.

  “An old friend of mine is in great danger. His name is Gregory Salinger. He’s threatening to jump off a building.”

  Diggs raced outside to meet a police escort.

  Chapter 3

  The wind from the police chopper nearly knocked Deondra Rivers to the ground. She grimaced, threatening the gust with an icy stare. Defiant, she held her ground, refusing to allow a little wind to become an obstacle. The rational FBI special agent had spent the last three months honing her hardboiled demeanor to a fine edge. Now, even the wind was under suspicion. Circumstances had conspired to spark her dark outlook. A part of Rivers blamed her new partner, Caitlin Diggs, for these “circumstances”. Pairing with the FBI’s most unconventional agent had been a difficult transition for the twenty-seven-year-old Pittsburgh native. Deondra still believed in the integrity of a rulebook and all those who swore to uphold it. Diggs, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on challenging authority. Her association with Diggs ultimately left Rivers wondering what unexpected obstacle might come along next to threaten her sanity.

  Deondra had been forced to investigate outside normal parameters. Her steadfast belief in science had been shaken by paranormal circumstances surrounding a quartz crystal. She and her boyfriend, pathologist Ed Hoyt, had worked diligently on the Arrowhead Killer case only to conclude the impossible—the mystery crystal had found a way to sustain itself on human serotonin and create the world’s first biological internet. Consequently, this unusual investigation invited Deondra to butt heads with protocol and with Caitlin Diggs on more occasions than she would like to remember.

  As a result of all these factors, Deondra had grown to become overly suspicious, even for an FBI agent. She too feared the Bureau had become corrupt. She would have loved to blame her connection to Agent Diggs for turning her expectations upside down and raising her paranoia level. She couldn’t. Deep down, Deondra respected Caitlin. She admired the way Diggs resumed her career after Geoffrey’s death, she acknowledged Diggs’s humanitarian motives that ultimately prevented the mysterious crystal from falling into the wrong hands. And despite their different philosophies regarding investigation, Deondra vowed to help Diggs avenge Geoffrey McAllister’s death, as long as concrete proof of Director Hainsworth’s involvement could be ascertained. Then maybe Deondra Rivers could finally find her niche and reinvent the art of FBI profiling.

  The one constant in Deondra River’s equation stepped from the helicopter wearing goggle-like eyewear. Caitlin Diggs sprinted from the craft, took Deondra by the arm, and shoved her into a black and white. Diggs slid into the back seat after Rivers and the car rocketed into motion.

  Lights flashed from the patrol car, chasing cars ahead to the shoulder. They were minutes away from what threatened to be a crime scene.

  “How long has Salinger been on the ledge?” Diggs gasped, removing her glasses.

  “Approximately an hour,” Rivers said. She returned her gaze to the glass separating them from the driver; she wished it separated her from Diggs at the moment. She couldn’t help feeling annoyed. She had been ready to roll forty-five minutes ago while her veteran partner jumped planes, choppers and automobiles to return to DC from Miami—all at the expense of the taxpayer. She wondered why her superior, A.D. Dudek, waited for Diggs to return. Valuable time had been squandered during her commute. At any one moment, Salinger could have appeased a crowd of hecklers below him, begging for him to jump.

  Another moment of silence followed. Rivers’s face softened, she turned to meet Diggs’s eyes.

  “So how did it go?”

  “They got the death penalty, not that it will bring Geoffrey back.”

  Rivers felt a tinge of guilt. Her partner certainly had a valid reason for absence. Nonetheless, she decided to forego an apology for snapping at her. She feared empathizing with Diggs’s plight, afraid it might feed her fear about losing her new boyfriend. She concluded her familiar detached approach would work best here. Diggs seized the moment of silence to break eye contact, sparing Rivers the need to make further comment.

  Fighting guilt, Rivers launched into a briefing, detailing everything she knew about Homeland Security Director Greg Salinger. She found the monologue did little to make her feel better about her harsh treatment toward Diggs. She concluded with a theory.

  “Dudek believes it is imperative we can get Director Salinger off the hotel ledge safely, . He believes there may be a terrorist connection, a legitimate reason why he killed the girl.”

  “And does he have any suspects?” Diggs shifted her body, bracing herself for Rivers’s next curt response.

  “Right now, the victim is at the top of the list.”

  “Pictures?”

  “I’ll spare you the crime scene photos. She was decapitated.” Rivers glanced down to pull an eight by ten from an envelope. “I have a file photo from a past arrest.”

  Rivers paused while Diggs perused the photograph.

  “Her attire leads me to believe she’s a lady of the night.”

  “Indeed, she’s suspected of providing ‘services’ for many of Washington’s top ranking officials. She’s made numerous visits to DC precincts over the years, yet no formal charges have ever been filed. This leads me to believe someone has protected her. Because of this, there’s no reason her clientele couldn’t include a terrorist or two.”

  “I see. What has Salinger told Dudek? Did he admit to the killing?”

  “Most definitely. He confessed before he even said hello to the assistant director. Apparently, this Salinger has a deep seated trust in A.D. Dudek.”

  “Yes, I understand they were former classmates. Which begs another question. Is Dudek’s judgment clouded? Is he seeing terrorists to clear Salinger’s reputation? You know, this could easily be a simple crime of passion.”

  “I’ve had the last hour to play out all scenarios in my head. Dudek insisted I wait for your return, Caitlin.” She stopped to gaze out the window, biting her lower lip. “He probably has good reason, I suppose. I’ve only had one prior circumstance regarding suicide.”

  “Well, at least that’s one experience, Agent Rivers. Tell me about it.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Fortunately, the woman woke up and survived. There were no negotiations beforehand. She had simply swallowed a few sleeping pills two hours before we got the call, and apparently, she didn’t ingest enough to die.”

  Diggs nodded, realizing she would be responsible for guiding her partner. “Deondra, I want to play upon Salinger’s trust. We need to keep mentioning his association with Dudek. We should split up depending upon the layout of the hotel rooms. I’ll begin the negotiation while you try to find access to the ledge from an adjacent window. My gut tells me if
Salinger trusts Dudek, he’ll trust us.”

  Sirens wailed, interrupting Rivers’s train of thought. The car nearly jackknifed before coming to rest in the hotel’s parking lot. The scenario the investigators had just analyzed would now play out for real.

  A police sergeant barked through a bullhorn, pleading for Salinger to return to his hotel room. Diggs and Rivers leapt from the patrol car. They could view the entire back lawn of the Hilton Washington Embassy Row Hotel, which had been cordoned off with police tape. Camera crews jockeyed for position, nearly stepping over one another to film Salinger’s fourth story vantage point. Salinger teetered on a ledge no more than a meter wide. He shielded his eyes every time the sergeant spoke, raising suspicions of drug abuse. Safety nets had been positioned on the lawn, but they couldn’t canvas the entire area and Salinger’s actions didn’t lead anyone to believe he would simply jump voluntarily into a net.

  Cement walkways looped around the grass, sinisterly inviting a most painful demise. Cameras panned these walkways while reporters bartered for time, callously predicting odds on the Homeland Security Director’s survival. Diggs allowed herself a second to snapshot the scene to memory. A detail officer followed the agents from behind, keeping them no more than an arm’s length from his reach. Recognizing Agent Diggs, a few reporters rushed to the glass encased walkway the detail officer had led them to. It would provide access to the hotel’s fourth floor via stairway.

  Diggs gasped. She knew one of these reporters. The operative word being knew. Reporter Ross Fisher had covered the Arrowhead Killer case for an Oklahoma newspaper. Why he was here in DC with a camera crew troubled Diggs. She already had reasons to be suspicious of Fisher. It was highly possible he had worked in collusion with the military in their failed attempt to attain the crystal. She refused to let this new puzzle interfere with her pressing duty. The muffled cry of the reporters faded away, replaced by the sound of clip-clopping shoes on cement stairs.