“So we’ve been spending as much time together as we can,” Dalton said. “And I’m sure you can imagine how bad it would look if the founder of Life Fulfilled was found to be having a romantic relationship with someone on the waiting list. I offered several times to bump her to the top, but she’s refused every single time.”
“Is this the first time you’ve lied about your schedule to create time for the two of you?” Jack asked.
He shook his head and looked longingly at Allison. “No. This has got to at least be the third or fourth. I did it last month; said I was going to be gone for four days for a training exercise so Allison and I could spend a weekend at an Airbnb in the Blue Ridge Mountains.”
“He says there are people on the waiting list being killed?” Allison said.
“Yes, there are,” Rachel said. She then directed her attention to Dalton and added: “And unless you can provide proof or alibis for your whereabouts over the last five days, you’re considered a suspect.”
“Well, for the last two days, I’ve been in this room with Allison. The only time I left was to go down to Allison’s car to get a phone charger. After…Jesus, after I learned that people on the waiting list were being killed, I was afraid to leave her alone, you know?”
“He’s right,” Allison said. She gave him what Rachel thought was supposed to be a cute, suggestive grin. “He’s been in here with me for almost two whole days.”
Many comments came to Rachel’s mind but she clamped down on them. Chief among them was: So you just let the others on the waiting list languish while you were sleeping with this woman?
“And what about the three before that?” Jack asked.
Dalton thought for a moment, forcing himself to look beyond the blissful snag of this hotel room and the days that came before it. “Three days ago…I worked in the morning and played golf with an investor after lunch. That night, I visited Allison at her house.”
“You worked from the office that morning?” Jack asked.
“Yes. Two others were there and can vouch for me.”
“Who’d you golf with?”
“An older gentleman named Maxwell Forbes and one of his assistants. We had a few drinks at the clubhouse bar afterwards, and there were at least a dozen other people there that can confirm this.”
“And the two days before that?” Rachel asked.
“Two days ago, I was in DC, having a few meetings. I was going to stay the night but came home late. The next day I went to work and I was there all day. Well into the night, actually, getting ready for the three days I planned to spend with Allison.”
With every sentence he spoke, Rachel could feel the hope of closing the case slipping farther and farther away. There were too many specifics to his story, and far too many people to verify his location during each murder.
“We’re going to have agents look into these alibis and stories,” Jack said. His tone had softened, and Rachel could tell that he believed every word of what Dalton had said. “In the meantime, you go nowhere. It’s either this motel room, work, or your home, do you understand? If we get so much as a hint that you’re on the move, you will be brought in as a primary suspect.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Dalton said. “Understood.”
Rachel could feel the disappointment oozing off of Jack as they both took one last look around the room. Dalton was a miserable and wretched man, but he was far from a killer. They made their exit, closing the door behind them. Rachel looked down to the concrete where she’d tackled Wes Dalton and saw a small smear of blood from where he’d nicked his chin.
“You know,” Jack said as they made their way back to the car, “that would almost be a sweet story…what’s going on with Allison and Wes Dalton. But the murders sort of put a damper on it, you know?”
They’d reached the car and Rachel was reaching out for the door handle on the passenger side when her phone rang. She grabbed for it right away, wondering if it might be Grandma Tate, calling to apologize for her earlier outburst. But when she saw DIR. ANDERSON on her caller display, her heart felt like it was seizing up in her chest.
“Shit,” she hissed. “It’s Anderson.”
“Do you think he knows you’re with me somehow?”
“I don’t know.” And in saying that, she started to wonder if she’d really even give a damn. He may slap her on the wrist and chew her out, but what was the worst he could say, really? Despite this hopeful realization, she still found herself rather afraid to answer the call. When she finally answered, she felt the stirrings of a headache in the back of her head. It came in a low, bass-like rumble at the very top of her head and started to spread right away.
“This is Agent Gift,” she said, answering in a professional way without realizing she was doing so.
“Agent Gift,” Anderson said, his voice level and somehow serene. “I’ve just gotten an update from the US Marshals on the hunt for Alex Lynch and I thought you’d want to be filled in. It seems that the trail has gone cold. They’ve got a number of leads and there are still about a dozen bodies on it but it’s not looking good.”
Rachel felt like she’d been punched right in the stomach. The wind went out of her and for a moment, the world was reeling. She thought of Lynch out there, God only knew where, actually, and just as free as anyone else. She could only hope the maniac was headed down to Aiken, South Carolina. He’d sent Grandma Tate mail there so it stood to reason that would be where he was headed. Of course, the US Marshals would have already considered that and—
“Rachel? You there?” Anderson said. His voice sounded far away and ghostly.
“Yes, sir. I’m here. I just…nothing. Thanks for the call.”