CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Paige knew what the killer wanted, but she still had to work out where and when he was going to strike. In theory, he could kill anyone, anywhere, but Paige had to believe that it wouldn’t be as random as that.
This was the day of Lars Ingram’s death, and the killer’s chance to “win” the competition between the two of them. Would he really kill someone random for that moment? No, Paige was sure that the moment meant too much to the killer for that.
He would want this to be meaningful, to be special to him. The only question was how he was going to make it special. What was the component for him that was going to make this meaningful?
Paige started slightly as she realized that it was all about the connection to Ingram. The killer would want to find a way to simultaneously mark Ingram’s death and declare that he had surpassed him. He would want something that was a suitably impressive challenge, too. Paige couldn’t imagine him wanting to kill just anyone for this.
Paige started to look through everything she had on Ingram, trying to find someone who would fit that description. Perhaps someone Ingram had always wanted to kill but had never been able to get to? No, there was no record of him having spoken about that, and unless he had, how would the killer know who to go after?
No, it had to be something else, someone else. Was there anyone from Ingram’s past who might make a suitable target? Paige couldn’t see anybody obvious. There was no one who worked as a caretaker in his past other than his victims, as far as Paige could see.
The truth was that there wasn’t a lot for her to go on. There was a lot of writing out there about Ingram, and Paige found a little speculation about who his next victims might have been, but the writers didn’t provide any real evidence why he might have picked one victim over another. It just seemed to be a collection of people the authors wanted to see dead.
It didn’t help. The problem was how little information Paige had. If she’d only gotten more out of Ingram when she’d gone to the prison to talk to him, she might have an answer now, but instead, she’d gotten nothing real before he called for the guards to take him back to his cell.
The guards.
Paige found herself thinking of the young female prison guard who had brought him to the interview room that first time, who had brought him to his execution. What had her name been? Nadia?
Wasn’t guarding Ingram at the moment of his death the ultimate in care? Wasn’t it exactly the kind of connection that a killer might want for this last, meaningful kill? He probably wouldn’t know who the guards had been at Ingram’s execution but would have been easy for him to find out that this guard had worked on death row, that she’d cared for Ingram from day to day while he was waiting for his death.
She would have meaning to Ingram’s life, she would probably prove to be more of a challenge than any of the other recent victims, and her death would even provide a kind of vengeance for Ingram’s death.
It had to be her. She was the perfect choice.
Paige found a number for the prison and called.
“Hi,” she said, when she got through. “This is Paige King. I was there with Agent Marriott of the FBI to interrogate Lars Ingram.”
“How can we help you, Agent King?” a man’s voice on the other end of the line asked.
Paige didn’t correct him on that, simply because there wasn’t any time to waste. Besides, it might mean that he was more inclined to help.
“I believe that one of your guards may be in danger. I only have a first name: Nadia. She works on death row and was present at Lars Ingram’s execution. I believe that the copycat killer we’re hunting may be about to target her.”
“That would be Nadia Stafford.”
“I need contact information for her,” Paige said. She hoped that she would be able to get in touch in time. “Urgently.”
Her tone must have convinced the man on the end of the line of the seriousness of the situation, because it was only a moment or two before he came back with a number and an address.
“Thank you,” Paige said, and hung up.
The first thing she did was to try to call Nadia to warn her, but that went straight through to voicemail.
“Nadia, this is Dr. Paige King, the consultant with the FBI who came to question Lars Ingram. I believe that you may be the next target of Ingram’s copycat. Call me back as soon as you get this.”
Paige’s next call was to Christopher, but there was no answer. She guessed that he was still stuck in his interrogation of Cal Sanders, trying to get answers out of him.
“Christopher,” Paige said as it went through to his voicemail. “Look, I know we didn’t agree earlier, but please, just listen to me. I think I know where the killer is going to strike next. I’m on my way there now. The guard who took Ingram to his execution: Nadia Stafford. I’ll text you her address.”
Paige hung up and texted the address as she’d promised, then ran for her car. The sooner she got there, the better. It was getting dark outside as Paige sprinted from her apartment block, not wanting to waste a second if she could avoid it.
Should she call the D.C. police? Should she call the main FBI switchboard? Maybe if she called in her suspicions, a squad car would be able to get to Nadia Stafford’s home quicker than she could. If they acted quickly, they could have a whole tactical team waiting when the killer showed up.
Paige didn’t do that, though, because she wasn’t sure right then if anyone would believe her. This was still just a hunch, so if she called it in and they asked for evidence, what would she be able to say? If she did get backup and then nothing happened, why would anyone ever trust her judgement again. No, this was something she had to do alone, at least until she knew more. If she was right, though, then she needed to get to Nadia Stafford’s house as soon as possible.