Page 9 of The Devoted Game
“Not so far,” Worth said with a questioning look at Grace. “The Byrnes have a lot of friends and business associates. Birmingham PD is helping run the names and interviews.” He shrugged. “Could be a waste of manpower considering the email and the connection to you.”
Ryan didn’t like Worth. Mainly because of the whole making-him-a-suspect thing, but partly because he still held a grudge against the “in-charge” faction. There was always the possibility that the guy wasn’t really the asshole Ryan figured him for, but he wouldn’t be hanging around long enough to find out.
He turned to Grace. “Let’s give this ‘Devoted Fan’ what he wants.”
“We’ve set up direct access for you,” Worth explained, gesturing to one of a number of computer stations posted along the far wall. “We’re prepared for a trace, for all the good it’ll do.” He cut Grace another of those speculative glances. “I assume Agent Grace warned you that this guy knows his stuff on the World Wide Web.”
Ryan nodded. “She mentioned it.”
Worth shrugged as if he felt this whole exercise was pointless. “When you’re ready to open up communication with the unsub, so are we.”
Ryan hesitated. “We’ll need proof.”
Devoted Fan would no doubt want some assurance he was dealing with him and not someone pretending to be him.
“A photo,” Grace suggested, then looked around the conference room. “Over there.” She indicated the first entry on the timeline, the eight-by-ten photo of Alyssa Byrne.
Ryan couldn’t remember the last time his picture had been taken. By the media three years ago, or maybe when he’d gotten his Florida driver’s license. It wasn’t something he cared to do now, but he didn’t see any way around it. Grace snapped a pic of him with her cell phone. A couple of minutes later she’d downloaded the image to an open email. With her already seated at the keyboard, he dictated the brief note.
Devoted Fan
You have my undivided attention.
McBride
A single click, and it was done.
“I guess now we wait,” Worth noted aloud for the rest of the room, most of whom were still eyeing Ryan suspiciously.
Grace had no sooner pushed back her chair than the “new mail” warning sounded. As she opened the mailbox, Ryan leaned closer. Hadthe bastard been standing by, waiting for that email to arrive? How could he have been that sure that Ryan would even come?
One click, and he had his answer.
It washim.
Welcome back, Agent McBride. Alyssa and I have been waiting.
“Print it,” Worth ordered before Ryan had even finished reading the first paragraph. “I want a hard copy.”
Grace stabbed the command key for sending the image on the screen to the printer. Ryan crouched down next to her chair to get a better view of the screen, instinct taking over with the need to know what this son of a bitch had to say.
Here, my old friend, is your clue:
Alyssa Byrne is interred in the dark on a hillside where hundreds of those who provide a form of assurance to the elderly can see if they choose to look. Her father would not know this place well, since he often fails to pay proper homage. His mistake has cost much, but to pay with his daughter’s innocent life is perhaps a stiff price. I have decided to show him mercy.
Find her, McBride. She has less than 18 hours before her fate is sealed.
Happy hunting, Devoted Fan
“Agent Talley,” Worth called out, “get Alyssa Byrne’s father in my office now.” His gaze met Ryan’s as he added with a little less enthusiasm, “The rest of you, do what McBride tells you.” With that final order, the SAC promptly exited the conference room.
Ryan felt the floor beneath his feet shake with that gauntlet hitting the ground. Worth had just dumped the entirety of this mess in his lap.Nice to see the guy was living up to Ryan’s expectations. Then again, he had insisted on being in charge, hadn’t he?
His jaw clenched, Ryan focused his attention back on the monitor and reread the words on the screen. “We need maps on the locations of every cemetery in this city,” he told Grace. “Maps that include all surrounding buildings. And print me a copy of that email, would you?”
She hit the necessary key and pushed back her chair. “Done. You can pick it up on the printer. I’ll need to access another system for those maps.”
“Give me what you can as it becomes available. Hard copies preferably.” Ryan stood and walked to the printer to retrieve the email. There was something about the construction of the sentences in Devoted Fan’s notes that seemed familiar. He studied the phrasing. Couldn’t quite place it. But he’d read something written by this guy before.