Page 5 of The Killer You Know
3
Special Agent Fallon Baxter
“Our little tussle in the hot tub was interrupted,” Jack grunts as he takes a few slices of cheese for himself as we huddle in the situation room of the field office in Denver.
“And it wasn’t a date. We were celebrating our first win,” I say to Hale, primarily because he’s the only one not in the know.
“In a hot tub?” Hale ticks his head to the side in amusement. “Sounds like a date.”
Nikki nods. “That’s what I said.”
“Do we have any leads on the shooter or the kidnapper?” I ask, more than happy to change the subject, even if it is a grim one.
I’ll admit, Jackson Stone is handsome to a fault, emphasis on the fault. Dark hair, blue eyes, slight dimples, well-fitted Italian suits—he checks off all the boxes to make my ovaries go wild, and that’s exactly why I’m taking a vow to stay away from him—outside of a professional setting, that is. Good-looking men like him are always trouble with a capital everything. And Lord knows I’ve got enough trouble brewing in my life as it is.
“Details are still scant.” Hale blows out a breath. “What we do know is that this was a targeted attack. It appears the shooter knew exactly who he was after. Three women were grazed with bullets and they scattered as best they could. The kidnapped woman, identified as Brittney Walker, was apparently the primary target. The others seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Our victim vanished less than two hours ago,” Hale continues while displaying Brittney’s photo on the screen. It’s a professional shot with a wide and confident smile, dark hair pulled back, dark eyes, bright red lips. “She was taken from a high-end property she was showing. No security cameras on site, but we’ve got three witnesses, the women who were shot at the scene. They survived, thankfully, but we’re left with more questions than answers. According to the women, after firing, the shooter went after Ms. Walker and stabbed her in the chest with a hypodermic needle before dragging her off like a ragdoll.”
“She could have been roofied,” I say as I look at Jack and he inches back and frowns my way.
“Now why would you look at me when you say that?” he says, obviously taking umbrage with the fact.
“I don’t know, have you roofied anyone?” I’m teasing, but I’m also annoyed. “I looked at you because you’re my coworker. But don’t worry. I’ll make it a practice to look at Nikki first so you won’t get offended.”
He lifts a brow my way. “Thank you, I think.”
“Baxter is right,” Nikki says. “She could have been roofied. Or hit with Midazolam, Diazepam, or any number of goodies. It could have been rat poison for all we know.” She glances at Jack. “Note, I didn’t even slightly look in your direction when I said the word rat.”
“Now I’m really getting offended,” he says, clicking away at his keyboard.
“Are you kids ready for the show, or are you still warming up?” Hale glowers at the lot of us. “Our victim, Brittney Walker, has a name you might recognize as one of the top real estate agents around Aspen Heights. As I mentioned, she was showing a house for a client when the attack happened. CSI is there now, forensics is ready to do its thing and I told them we’d head that way as soon as we touched base.”
“Brittney Walker…” Jack cocks his head to the side, his tongue pressing into his cheek. “That does sound familiar.” He lifts his head suddenly as if it’s just come to him.
“Well?” I say. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“You know that little surprise I was hinting at back in the hot tub?”
“I thought it had something to do with the high school reunion.” I nod. “What is it?” Jack said he’d let me know once we got here, and in truth, I had forgotten about his mental game until now.
He grimaces a moment. “I went to school with Brittney. And yes, our twenty-year high school reunion is coming up in a little under two weeks.” He glances at Nikki. “I asked Baxter to come with me and she turned me down.”
“That’s not true.” I lift a finger his way. “I said the only way you can drag me there is by way of a madman threatening to blow up the building.”
Hale shrugs. “I’d show up for that.”
“We all would,” Nikki says before looking at Jack. “So you went to school with the woman? And you’ve got a high school reunion on the horizon? Looks as if we’ve got one of your classmates to track down and the clock is ticking. I’d hate for her to miss the big dance.”
“The assailant was dressed in black with a matching ski mask and gloves,” Hale goes on. “They managed to evade any sort of identification. We can’t confirm if we’re looking for a man or a woman.”
“What about the getaway vehicle?” I ask.
“The women were shot in the back of the property. They had no idea what the perp left in. The sheriff’s department is collecting the data from any nearby security cameras. It’s a rural neighborhood, so it might be a challenge.”
Nikki shakes her head at her laptop. “Looks like Brittney’s life is an open book online. I’ll dive into her social media, looking for any unusual interactions or threats. By the looks of it, she shared a lot, maybe too much.”
“Good,” Hale says. “I want the three of you to deep-dive into her public persona, her finances, figure out if she had any known enemies, and anything else you can ascertain about her personal life. Stone, let me know if this hits too close to home. I can always pull you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack says as he shuts his laptop. “With the exception of the crime scene.” He tips his head my way as if asking if I wanted to join him. And seeing that we drove in together, I had better.