“Thanks, Anita.”

“Anything for you, Agent O’Dell? Coffee? Or perhaps your usual early-morning Diet Pepsi?”

Tully watched Agent O’Dell smile in a way that said the two women were quite familiar with each other.

“Thank you, Anita, but no, I’m fine.”

The secretary squeezed the agent’s shoulder in a gesture that looked more motherly than professional, and then she left, closing the door behind her.

Cunningham sat back and made a tent with his fingertips, picking up the conversation exactly where they had left off, as if there had been no interruption. “Walker Harding became a recluse after he and Stucky sold their business. Practically disappeared off the face of the earth. There seems to be virtually no records, no transactions, no sign of the man.”

“Then what does this have to do with Albert Stucky?” Tully was puzzled.

“I checked the airline schedules within the last week for flights going from Dulles or Reagan National to Kansas City. Not that I expected to find Albert Stucky’s name on any of the manifests.” He looked from Tully to O’Dell. “I was looking for any of the aliases Stucky has used in the past. That’s when I noticed that there was a ticket sold for a KC flight, Sunday afternoon out of Dulles, to a Walker Harding.”

Cunningham waited, looking for some reaction. Tully watched, tapping his foot nervously but not impressed with the information.

“Excuse me, sir, for saying so, but that may not mean much. It may not even be the same man.”

“Perhaps not. However, Agent Tully, I suggest you find out whatever you can about Walker Harding.”

“Assistant Director Cunningham, why am I here?” Agent O’Dell asked politely but with enough candor to indicate she wasn’t willing to continue without an answer.

Tully wanted to smile. Instead, he kept his eyes and his attention on Cunningham. It was hard not to like O’Dell. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her shift in her chair, uncomfortable and restless but holding her tongue. She had been kept off this investigation since the beginning. Tully wondered if she was angry with having to sit and listen to these details if she couldn’t be involved. Or had Cunningham changed his mind? Tully studied his face, but saw no clue as to what his boss was thinking.

When he didn’t answer immediately, O’Dell must have seen it as an opportunity to proceed.

“I mean no disrespect, but the three of us are sitting here talking about a ticket that may or may not have been issued to a man who Albert Stucky may or may not have talked to for years. Yet, there is one thing that we can be certain of—Albert Stucky murdered a woman in Kansas City, and most likely he is still there.”

Tully crossed his arms and waited, all the while wanting to applaud this woman he had heard was burned out and slipping over the edge. She certainly soared at the top of her game this morning.

Cunningham caved in his finger tent and sat forward, leaning elbows on his desk and looking as though he had been ambushed in a chess match. But now he was ready for his move, his turn.

“Saturday night about twenty miles from here, a young woman was found murdered, her body tossed into a Dumpster, her spleen surgically removed and placed inside a discarded pizza box.”

“Saturday?” Agent O’Dell fidgeted while she calculated the unusually short time line. “Kansas City is not a copycat. He left the goddamn kidney at my door.”

Tully winced. Forget chess. This would be more like a showdown at the OK Corral. Cunningham, however, didn’t blink.

“The young woman was a pizza delivery person. She was taken while delivering her route.”

Agent O’Dell became agitated, crossing her legs, then uncrossing them as if restraining her words. Tully knew she had to be exhausted.

Cunningham continued, “She had to have been taken somewhere close by. Perhaps in the neighborhood. He raped and sodomized her, slit her throat and removed her spleen.”

“By sodomized are you saying he raped her himself from behind or with another item?”

Tully couldn’t see a difference. Wasn’t either hideous enough? Cunningham looked to him for the answer. This, unfortunately, he could answer without digging through a single file. The young girl had looked too much like Emma for him not to remember every detail. Whether he wanted them to be or not, they were stamped in his memory.

“There was no semen left behind, but the medical examiner seemed convinced it was penile stimulation. There were no traces or remnants that a foreign object might leave behind.”

“Stucky’s never done that before.” O’Dell sat at the edge of her chair, suddenly animated. “He wouldn’t do that. There would be no point. He likes to watch their faces. He enjoys seeing their fear. He wouldn’t be able to see that from behind.”

Cunningham tapped his fingertips on the desktop as if waiting for O’Dell to finish.

“The young woman delivered a pizza to your new home the night she was murdered.”

The silence seemed amplified when the drumming of the fingertips stopped. Cunningham and Tully watched O’Dell. She sat back, looking from one to the other. Tully saw the realization in her eyes. He expected to see fear, maybe anger. It surprised him to find what looked like resignation. She rubbed a hand over her face and tucked strands of hair behind her ears. Otherwise, she sat quietly.

“That’s why, Agent O’Dell, I’m guessing it didn’t matter that you stayed in Kansas City. He’ll follow you.” Cunningham loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves as though he was suddenly too warm. Both gestures seemed foreign. “Albert Stucky is pulling you into this, no matter what I do to keep you out of it.”

“And by keeping me out of it, sir, you’re taking away my only defense.” O’Dell’s voice had an undeniable quiver to it. Tully saw her bite down on her lower lip. Was it to restrain her words or control the quiver?

Cunningham glanced over at Tully, sat back and released his own sigh of resignation. “Agent Tully has requested that you assist him on the case.”

O’Dell stared at Tully with surprise. He found himself a bit embarrassed and not sure why. It wasn’t as if he had made the request to do her any favors. It could be putting her in even more danger. But the fact was, he needed her.

“I’ve decided to grant Agent Tully’s request on two conditions, neither of which I’m willing to negotiate or compromise.” Cunningham leaned forward again, elbows on his desktop, hands fisted together. “Number one, Agent Tully is to remain the lead on this investigation. I expect you to share all information and knowledge as soon as it becomes available to you. You will not—and I repeat, Agent O’Dell—you will not go off on a wild-goose chase or check on hunches without Agent Tully accompanying you. Is that understood?”

“Of course,” she answered, her voice now strong and firm again.

“Number two. I want you to see the Bureau’s psychologist.”

“Sir, I really don’t think—”

“Agent O’Dell, I said there will be no negotiating, no compromise. I’ll leave it up to Dr. Kernan as to how many times he wants to see you each week.”

“Dr. James Kernan?” O’Dell seemed appalled.

“That’s right. I had Anita set up your first appointment. Check with her on your way out for the time. She’s also setting up an office for you. Agent Tully occupies your old one. I saw no reason in moving both of you. Now, if the two of you will excuse me.” He sat back, dismissing them. “I have another appointment.”

Tully gathered his mess and waited for O’Dell at the door. For a woman who had just been given what she had wanted for the last five months, she looked more agitated than relieved.

CHAPTER 29

Tully ripped off the latest fax that had just come in from the Kansas City Police Department. He scanned its contents while he gathered folders and notes and crime scene photos. In ten minutes he was meeting with Assistant Director Cunningham, and yet his mind was still preoccupied with the argument he’d had with his daughter less than an hour ago. Emma had waited until he was dropping her off at school to drop her bomb. Damn she was good. But then what did he expect? She had been schooled in the fine art of surprise attack by none other than the master, her own mother.