Page 8 of Hunting the Crossbow Killer

Having learned to pack light over the years, all she had to bring inside the B and B was a small rolling suitcase and her satchel that contained her laptop, her investigative files and notes. The check-in desk downstairs doubled both for the inn and the surprisingly busy restaurant. It seemed that half the town must be either at the bar or sitting at the tables and booths drinking or eating. No doubt with the festival canceled, they were finding another way to have the fun they’d been denied.

The owner herself, Stella Holman, checked Grace in, reserving a room for her plus two more at Grace’s request in case more agents were needed in the next few days. After Stella took Grace upstairs to her room and was about to head downstairs again, Grace stopped her.

“Ms. Holman?”

The petite, white-haired lady smiled. “It’s Mrs., but we don’t stand on formality around here. Call me Stella. How can I help you, dear?”

“I need to go see someone up in the mountains a little later. I have the address, but it’s not showing up on my GPS.”

Stella laughed. “If you go by those fancy GPS things around here you’ll get lost every time, or drive off a cliff. Half the time phones don’t even work in these mountains. What’s the address?”

“It’s on Niall’s Circle.”

The other woman’s smile faltered. “I see. Well, that won’t be on your GPS because it’s not the official name of any road. It’s basically a driveway. A very long one, but technically a driveway. Head out of town and take the first right up Harper Road. You’ll find the turnoff to Niall’s Circle at the top of the mountain, where Harper ends. I can draw it out if you need me to.”

“No, no. Those directions sound easy to follow. Thanks so much.”

Stella patted Grace’s shoulder. “I hope you enjoy our little town, maybe take a boat out on the lake. It’s gorgeous this time of year. If you’re hungry, come downstairs for lunch before you go sightseeing. With the festival canceled, there’s a party going on. There’s a game room, too, with tables set up for cards, some pool tables and even a dartboard. I’m sure you’d have fun. And the food’s not bad either. I hear that Mr. Holman is an excellent chef.” She winked and headed downstairs.

Grace briefly debated going downstairs right now. Not to party or eat, but to mingle with the townspeople to try to get information that might help her investigation. But as loud as it had been when she’d passed the opening to the restaurant before coming upstairs, it was doubtful that conversations would be easy or fruitful. She’d have to make the rounds another time.

Talking to O’Brien was her number one priority anyway. And she had no intention of notifying his parole officer or having him return to the station at this point. Instead, she wanted to surprise him, catch him off guard at his own home, on Niall’s Circle. If he was comfortable, in his own element, it would be easier to build that rapport she’d need to get him to speak freely.

She put her things away, then sat down on the king-size bed she’d splurged the FBI’s money on and made a call to the office. Her favorite admin took down the information that Grace gave her, promising to email her the full investigative file on O’Brien, including a transcript of the sentencing hearing along with one from the parole hearing if she could get that released. Sometimes those weren’t shared. Well, most of the time they weren’t. But when the FBI asked for something, they usually got it. And this particular admin was a bulldog when it came to getting what the agents needed. If anyone could get it, she could.

Her next call was to her boss, Supervisory Special Agent Levi Perry. He wasn’t happy that she’d driven the three hours here and spent several more hours in town before checking in without calling. He was a stickler for knowing where his agents were at all times. Not because he was controlling or a micromanager, but because safety was his number one concern. Grace suffered through the usual lecture about being careful and checking in daily. Then she gave him an update on everything that had happened since her arrival, as well as her plan to interview O’Brien as soon as she read up on his background.

“Just follow all protocols and be on your guard the whole time,” he warned. “It doesn’t sound like this is our guy, given that someone else shot that arrow. But with his background, he could still be dangerous. And while I agree you’re more likely to get him to let his guard down and speak freely at his place, if any red flags go up while you’re there, end the interview immediatelyand have his parole officer order him to the police station for further questioning.”

“Of course. Absolutely. I’ll be careful.”

“I know you will or I wouldn’t have sent you there on your own.”

“You wouldn’t have sent me here at all if you thought there was really a chance our killer was here. But I still appreciate you finally cutting the strings and letting me do some investigating without a supervisor watching my every move.”

“Don’t thank me too soon. If the lab determines the arrows you have on the way are consistent and the paint matches the arrows we already have in evidence, you won’t be on your own anymore. That’s not a statement about your readiness to be a full-fledged agent. It’s a statement about how dangerous this killer is that we’re after. I don’t want to add one of my agents to his victim list.”

“Understood. I’ll keep you posted. And if the lab confirms our killer is here, I’ll stand down immediately and wait for backup to continue the investigation.”

“Regardless of what the lab determines, use all those skills you’ve been practicing under Special Agent Kingsley’s mentorship. Approach every assignment as if it’s the most important, and potentially dangerous one you’ve ever worked and you’ll always come out ahead. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep me updated.”

The call ended and Grace blew out a relieved breath. Someone on the outside looking in would think her boss was being extremely protective because she was a woman. But she knew better. He was this way with all his agents, particularly the ones like her who were finally out of training and no longer working under the guidance of another agent. While she appreciated thathe wanted everyone working for him to be safe, it could be smothering at times.

Her final call was to the lab to make sure they had no questions about what needed to be done once the evidence arrived. They assured her they’d log it in and assign a technician to it immediately. Even so, unless the fingerprints were found to be a match to someone in the Bureau’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, IAFIS, then it would likely take several more days to get results on any DNA.

If the person who’d shot that arrow had been arrested for a felony in the past and the arresting agency had entered their DNA profile into the Combined DNA Index System, then CODIS would spit out the name of a potential suspect. A hit on either IAFIS or CODIS could make their investigation take off. But not if the arrows from Mystic Lake didn’t match the arrows already known to have come from the Crossbow Killer.

The absence of viable prints or DNA on the evidence was another very real possibility. Which meant she needed to stop counting on the lab’s potential results and start pounding the pavement to determine if the anonymous tip was right or not.

Her boss agreed with her decision to interview O’Brien even though he wasn’t the one who’d shot that arrow today. Because yet another theory they’d discussed was that if O’Brien was the actual Crossbow Killer, he could have realized someone suspected him and that they may have called in a tip. The best way to throw law enforcement off his trail would be to hire someone else to shoot that arrow during the festival where there’d be lots of witnesses. And having someone take a picture just as the arrow was being shot over O’Brien’s shoulder, well, that was either incredible luck or a well thought out plan. The person who took the picture could have been paid, too. She’d have to contact the police and get the name of the person who took the picture so she could interview them, as well.

But first, she needed to focus on O’Brien.

The biggest question in her mind right now was the identity of his victim all those years ago and the alleged motive behind the murder. Dawson hadn’t volunteered that information. And she’d planned on asking O’Brien about it at the station after first building some rapport with him. With the interview ending so unexpectedly, she’d never gotten the chance.

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