A/N – This chapter is unbetaed as was chapter four, so please forgive grammatical errors. I have only just finished it.
I would like to thank all of the folks who took a moment to review this story. Your reviews and comments make my day. I have used some of the constructive and even the not-so-constructive criticisms to revamp chapter three.
I am still working on getting a good dialogue between Don and David. Hopefully this chapter is a little more fluid than the last one in that respect.
Enjoy
Alice I
Chapter Five
By the end of the day the investigation had netted no new results except for the fact that there were no other agent killings that the team was unaware of and that no other government agencies seem to be involved as targets. There was one notable difference however. The agent killed in Boston, Michael Carter, had two sets of numbers carved into his chest rather than one.
David, who was pairing up with Don stood looking over Carter's file and spoke under his breath to himself. "I wonder what Charlie will make of this?"
Don looked over at the file David was holding and realized what he was referring to. He reached over the back of his chair and grabbed his jacket saying, "I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that Carter is the first agent killed. What if these numbers are some kind of numerical roadmap leading to the next intended victim?"
"The problem is we don't know what map to look at." David said off handedly. He noticed that Don had a far away look on his face. "What is it?"
"A road map! David what if those numbers refer to actual locations on a map?" He dropped his jacket down in the chair and moved quickly over to the large map of the LA area on the wall of the bull pen. "Look, on every map there are numerical markers for grid locations right?" He pointed to the dots signifying where each agent was found. "Daryl was found in the Lauren Park Observatory. The map grid coordinates for that area are 14E and 17J, what are the numbers in his file? Danny Edwards was killed before Daryl. What are those numbers?"
David looked through the files and pulled out the pertinent information. "Daniel Edwards had the numbers 126629 and Daryl had 920534. There isn't a match there Don, and besides the map grids would change from map to map depending on the cartographer and the scale of the map, not to mention the fact that our victims all have six numbers to work with."
Don's brow furrowed as he thought. "Perhaps a combination of information, like map grids and longitude and latitude coordinates. I mean Charlie has already looked at all the different numerical tags associated with each victim to try and find a commonality between the code on the bodies and the victims with no luck. I just have a strong hunch that those numbers are a clue left by our killer that denote who the next victim will be and maybe even where the next body will be found. It's like this guy is almost daring us to figure out who or where he will strike next."
Don and David spent nearly twenty minutes looking at every way to interpret the number codes into some kind location markers without success when Don called a halt after glancing at his watch.
"This is getting us nowhere, It's late and we're both hungry. Dad knows that we are both going to be coming and has dinner cooking for everyone. I'll follow you to your place so you can grab some clothes and drop off your car." Don sounded so defeated that his idea had not panned out that David felt badly for him.
"It was a good idea Don. You could still be right you know; we just aren't seeing it through the eyes of the killer. The answer is there. We'll find it, we just have to keep looking. I'll bet anything that once we figure it out, it will seem completely obvious in retrospect."
Don stood up and picked up his coat from the chair he had tossed it into sighing. "Yeah, you're probably right." They collected up all of the files and headed in silence for the elevator, Don looking more worn than he had in a very long time.
David wanted to say something encouraging to him, but he knew that it would be a hollow sentiment. The way this case was going David felt sure, in his heart, that there would be a victim number seven before they were able to solve the riddle of the numerical clues left by the killer. He hated that he was so sure about this feeling and would not share those fears with anyone. He just prayed that number seven wouldn't be someone he cared about.
When they arrived at David's apartment Don waited out in the hall so that he could call Charlie.
"Hey, Charlie! Are you at home or still at Cal Sci?"...
"Why don't we pick you up? Dad is home cooking a big pot of spaghetti I think."…
"Oh, David is with me. Look, I wanted to ask you about that. Director Donaldson has us all traveling in pairs right now. I was hoping that we could crash over there tonight."…
"Well, I didn't think you would mind, so look, David is grabbing a few things and we'll be out to pick you up in about twenty minutes alright?"…
"Ummm, let's talk about that later. There has been a new… development in the case."…
"No, its preexisting data that we didn't know about, but I'd really rather not get into it over the phone."…
"Yeah, ok buddy. We'll see you in a bit."
David stepped out and locked the door as Don hung up the phone. He had a black duffel bag slug over his shoulder and was tucking some pamphlets into his breast pocket.
"That was quick." Don commented as he pocketed his phone.
"Well I usually have a bag ready because I never know when Linda will be calling to have me stay over and give her a hand with the kids."
Don looked over at the younger agent. "I thought you said that she had worked out her problems with her husband?"
"Yeah, well they are going through another rough spot. He took off about three months ago, and left her with the kids and a pile of debt. She's fighting with the credit card companies right now because she didn't know about the cards he applied for or the nearly twenty thousands dollars of debt he sunk her and the kids into. Her lawyer says that she isn't responsible for any of his debt because she never signed the account, but he forged her signature and they are battling it out at this point. Now she is working two jobs just to make ends meet, and I stay over there almost as much as I'm here."
Don shook his head. "David, I had no idea things had gotten so bad. Do you need anything? You know… some time off or well… anything?"
David put his hand on Don's shoulder and said, "Thanks. We're getting by. If I do need to take some time, though, I'll let you know."
The ride to Cal Sci took only fifteen minutes and Charlie was just packing up his satchel when Don and David arrived. He flipped over the blackboard so that his calculations on the case were not in plain view. "I'm just about ready." he called over his shoulder.
Don took a moment to really examine his brother. He looked paler than normal and he had dark circles under his eyes, but Don had to admit that he could say no less of himself lately. Charlie's energy level seemed unaffected by lack of sleep as he moved with an almost palpable kinetic energy around his office collecting the things he planned on taking home with him. Perhaps his brother was doing better than he thought on this case.
Don waited until Charlie was facing him so that he could study his reaction when he asked, "How is the analysis coming?"
Charlie's eyes shot to David quickly before they dropped to the floor. He hesitated for a moment then answered "Not very well, but you said that you had preexisting data for me. What is it? Can I see it?"
"It turns out that LA wasn't the first place that our killer has been." Don watched Charlie blanch as that statement sunk in. "Three other agents were killed before the three here in LA.; one in Baltimore; in Boston and in Chicago. We didn't know about them because the field offices were handling them as stand alone cases until they got wind of what was happening here."
Charlie sank down into the chair next to his desk. He suddenly felt slightly light headed but he was determined not to let this news affect him. "Were they…" his voice trailed off before he looked up at his brother. "I mean… did you know them?"
Don saw fear mixed with sympathy in Charlie's eyes. 'Could he actually be more worried about how this case is affecting me than I am about him?' Don had to admit that this was not easy for him and that was clear to his co-workers so why not his brother? Two of those men had been friends of his. He hadn't seen them in years but they all hung out together when he was at the academy. The thought that these men had died the same way that Daryl and Danny did bothered him more than he was willing to admit.
"I knew two of them from the academy."
Charlie stood and stepped over to Don placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Don."
Don was surprised by the genuine tone of sympathy in his brother's voice and even more amazed that his brother used physical contact to offer support. Charlie was not normally a tactile person. He wasn't unfriendly, just not particularly comfortable with close physical contact. The slight squeeze he gave Dons arm spoke volumes to him. This case may be hard on Charlie, but he was not so absorbed in his own feelings that he forgot that these victims were friends of Don's. The mere fact that Charlie thought of that consideration first, relieved some of the concern Don had been feeling about Charlie's emotional state.
"The files are out in the car. Lets go home and get some dinner, and then we can work on the new information."
Charlie held on to Don's arm for a moment longer before releasing him and turning to grab his satchel. He followed Don and David out of his office then locked it up for the night.
As they drove the short distance to the Eppes family home; Don's arm, where Charlie had tried to comfort him, still felt warm with the remembered touch, and some of the stress that had been building throughout the day began to ease from his body. Charlie probably had no idea how much that simple embrace had helped Don to regain some focus and he found himself marveling at how such a small gesture could evoke such a strong reaction. As he turned into the driveway of his childhood home Don felt the first real smile he had had in weeks spread across his face.
