Breck’s brows shot up. “But I’m in Cyber Crime,” she said. “Not the BAU.”
“We still have a lot of images to sort through, and Agent Guerrera may do more direct messaging with the unsub,” Buxton said. “I don’t want to wait while we go through channels. I spoke to your supervisor last night. With your dual background in video forensics and cyber investigations, you’re a perfect fit for this assignment. She approved a temp to the Cipher task force for you.”
Breck’s cheeks dimpled. “I’ll do whatever I can to help bring this asshole in. Someone needs to cancel his birth certificate.” Her smile widened. “Sir.”
“I’ve been checking the Cipher’s social media accounts,” Nina said. “He hasn’t posted anything since Boston.”
She had repeatedly cycled through his platforms since she woke up, dreading what he would say to the world after another murder and successful escape.
“Public Affairs is coordinating with the social media team,” Buxton said. “News channels have the story on heavy rotation. I think they’re hoping the Cipher contacts one of them directly again.”
“Maybe he’s traveling,” Breck said.
Wade gave her a dark look. “Maybe he’s plotting.”
Kent picked up his mug again. “His past pattern was to leave a clue and a deadline at each scene.” He peered down at the dark liquid inside thoughtfully. “The scene in Boston had a rhyme I now believe was designed to draw attention away from where he had dumped the body. There was no clue left behind.”
“I’m sure everyone in town searched for it.” Nina rolled her eyes. “Zarran just announced he’s doubling the reward money, so even more people will join the hunt.”
Wade nodded. “When there’s a million dollars at stake, people will act irrationally.”
Kent looked at Buxton. “Did we reach out to Zarran?”
“The LA field office is at his residence now trying to talk some sense into him,” Buxton said, opening his leather portfolio. “Let’s brainstorm our next steps in the investigation before I present them to the group.”
Wade spoke first. “I’d like to talk to Sorrentino again. We never had to lean on him hard because the case closed right after we spoke to him, but I always believed he knew more than he let on.”
“We should catch him at his residence,” Kent said. “Last time we went to the club, a girl died very soon after. I don’t want to show our faces there. The Cipher could get wind of it and act out again.”
Nina had spent a fair amount of time lying awake the previous night considering what she had learned on the flight from Boston. “Our working theory is that the Cipher was at the club and saw you two interviewing Sorrentino, so he framed another fighter for all of his murders?”
“Or they were committing the crimes together,” Breck said. “And he framed his partner for the whole thing.”
“No.” Wade’s tone was sharp enough to cut. “I went over my case files again last night. I’m more convinced than ever that the Beltway Stalker was a lone operator.”
Wade was staking what was left of his damaged reputation on his analysis. If he turned out to be wrong about this, too, the Bureau would be done with him.
“Let’s keep an open mind,” Buxton said to Wade. “I agree we shouldn’t go to the fight club to interview Sorrentino. Slide by his house.” He tipped his head toward Nina. “Take Agent Guerrera with you.”
She caught Wade sliding her a look from the corner of his eye. Their first tag-team interview. Should be interesting.
Buxton moved on to Kent. “Review the suicide note left with the body of the Beltway Stalker. Do a linguistic analysis comparing it with the communications we’ve received from the Cipher. I’d like more evidence that they are one and the same person.”
“Roger that,” Kent said.
“I’d like to see the file on that case as well,” Nina said.
“I’ll see that you get a flash drive with everything on it,” Buxton said before turning to Breck. “Get with Video Forensics and review—”
A knock at the conference room door interrupted him.
“Come in.”
“Excuse me, sir.” A tall, slender woman in a pale pink blouse poked her head in. “Public Affairs has been trying to reach you. They said it’s time-sensitive.” She disappeared, discreetly closing the door behind her.
Buxton rubbed bloodshot eyes. “My phone’s been buzzing all damn night. I mute it for ten minutes to hold a briefing and look what happens.” He slid a cell phone from his pocket and let out a long, slow breath. “Four missed calls.”
He laid it on the table and tapped the screen. “This is Buxton. You’re on speaker.”
“Overmeyer from Public Affairs,” a baritone voice responded. “We’ve got activity on all monitored platforms from the unsub. We believe it’s legit.”
“What’s he saying?”
“He’s teasing a video that he’s getting ready to put out. Cyber Crime is trying to ping his location, but it looks like he’s rerouting through a series of different servers.”
“What’s the video supposed to be?” Buxton asked.
“He doesn’t say much, except that everyone will want to watch and that it’s about Agent Guerrera.”
All eyes turned to her. Her mouth went dry and her palms grew clammy. What fresh hell was the Cipher planning for her now?
“We tried to reach you sooner,” Overmeyer continued. “You might want to watch the feed in real time when he airs it. He’s supposed to be posting it on his Facebook page any second now.”
“Thank you.” Buxton disconnected.
Breck opened her laptop. She accessed Facebook and checked the unsub’s page. A graphic with a video feed popped up. Breck expanded the image to cover the entire screen. Four words in a bold white font stood out in stark relief against a black background. FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE.
The letters on the screen dissolved, replaced by a video feed moments later. Heart pounding, Nina leaned closer to the monitor. A fluorescent glow from above poured down over the naked form of a young girl. She lay facedown on a steel table, her wrists and ankles secured to four metal poles, one at each corner of the rectangular surface.
Horror crashed over Nina in sickening waves as she stared at the screen, transfixed. Revulsion gripped her at a sound she had desperately tried to push from her mind. A sound she had heard only yesterday.
The voice of the Cipher.
“Do you know who’s coming to rescue you?” he asked the girl tied to the table.
Nina watched her sixteen-year-old self, body splayed before the camera. Naked, trembling, vulnerable. The girl she used to be.
The monster loomed just out of view, his shadow touching her calves as he bent forward to whisper, “No one.”
The girl pulled against her restraints, rubbing her wrists raw.
The monster moved back, raising his voice. “Do you know who cares that you ran away?” He paused. “No one.”
A howl filled with impotent fury came from the girl as she thrashed harder.
“Do you know who will cry over your grave?” He continued his relentless torment. “No one.”