After putting Denzel Paige in a safe location that only I and an agent from the FBI Atlanta field office knew about, I decided it was best to do the same with William Barrett. I didn't want Karen to know where I was putting him but she insisted on tagging along with me to his office that day. I trusted her but at the same time, I didn't trust her. I'd only known her for the better half of a week and even though she was a veteran with the FBI, I couldn't bring myself to put all of my trust in her. Hell, I wasn't sure I could put all of my trust into my own husband when it came to work related matters.
I sighed before pleading with William Barrett in his office, "Please, come with us, sir. It is no longer safe for you to be without our protection."
"Some people tried to kidnap Kemari's little boyfriend last night," he said angrily. "That has nothing to do with me."
"It's more serious than that," said Karen. "Look, we'll get a judge to sign off on detaining you in a safe location if we have to."
"Fine, get a judge to do that. In the meantime, I have a banquet at city hall to attend tonight. You can leave now. I need to finish up some work here before I head home to get ready for the banquet."
I looked at Karen and then back at William and began, "Mr. Barrett, I highly recommend..."
"I will be fine. I live in a secure neighborhood. I didn't even drive today and won't be driving to the banquet. My driver will be taking me. I've known him since I was a teenager because he works for my parents as well. I am very wealthy, agents. I don't need to be put in protective custody."
"Fine," said Karen. "We'll find you after we get a judge to sign off on giving us authority to detain you for your own protection. Come on, Rowell."
"Be careful, Mr. Barrett," I said to him as I backed away with Karen. "Please, be careful."
After leaving his office, Karen asked me, "Do you think we'll be able to get a judge to sign off on a protective custody order this late in the evening?"
"I hope so."
We filed the order and then immediately headed to the local precinct to wait for a judge to take it up and sign it since the precinct was closer to city hall than our hotel. As we were going in, a uniquely dressed young man approached us and called out, "Agents, I'm Evan Murphy and I'm with The Atlanta Queer Times." He turned on his phone's voice recorder and said, "Obviously, the major news media has moved on from the Michael Travers and Vince Hendricks cases already. Can you tell me if there has been any progress in identifying their killers?"
"We're not at liberty to answer that question," Karen told him.
"Are you still currently trying to find their killers?"
"The investigation is ongoing," I answered.
"And what about Randall Williams? He was the first gay black man to go missing months ago. Do you have any leads on where his body may be?"
"No comment," Karen said as she opened the door to the precinct for me. "No more questions, please." We entered the building and she said, "He looks rather...eccentric."
"Yeah, but he's right. The local news has moved on from it all. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, it sucks that so few people actually care about what happens to gay black men. On the other hand, our efforts aren't being broadcast so the network doesn't know all of our moves."
"Did you guys get Mr. Barrett into protective custody?" Cox asked after approaching us.
"No," I answered. "He refused to go and we didn't have a signed court order forcing him to come with us. A judge is making a decision on it right now."
"He mentioned that he was going to a banquet at city hall," Karen told her. "The network may be good at kidnapping people but I'm sure they can't do that at a banquet with a bunch of people."
"Let's hope not," said Cox. "So, the married couple who tried to kidnap Denzel last night have been identified as Jermaine and Evelyn Pollard. They were both thirty-three and had been married for six years but had no children. Jermaine was a construction worker and Evelyn was a kindergarten teacher." She quickly handed me a photo of the couple.
"A kindergarten teacher?" I asked while looking at their photo. "The woman I shot and killed in Denzel's apartment last night was a kindergarten teacher?"
Cox shrugged her shoulders and said, "I know, it's ridiculous. How could someone who devoted their life to helping children learn be a part of something so horrible?"
"I'm not even surprised," I said. "This is the same network that turned one of my closest friends into a snake."
"I still can't believe the man jumped off the roof," said Karen. "He must have really loved his wife."
I scoffed and said sarcastically, "Yeah, he loved her so much that he took off running after I put two slugs in her chest. Jeffries, these people know nothing about love. They know nothing about loyalty. Just because they were a married couple doesn't mean anything. Their marriage died the moment they got tangled up in this shit. They were already dead inside long before I put an end to them."
"I'm back," said Saunders as he entered the precinct with boxes of Domino's pizza. "Y'all hungry?"
As we talked strategies and ate pizza together, I couldn't help but notice Cox and Saunders were treating each other better than usual. Hopefully, it meant their affair had ended on amicable terms. I found their lack of professionalism disturbing. I had some respect for them left but the fact that they had sex in Kemari's apartment while he was missing did not sit right with me at all. I'd confronted Saunders and needed to have a word with Cox as well; however, I didn't know how to approach her with it. I was sure she'd be extremely embarrassed if she knew Karen and I knew about the affair.
"Thanks for the pizza," I said to Saunders. I was about to join Karen and Cox's conversation on the other side of the room but Saunders stood in my way. I looked into his eyes and asked, "What?"
"It seems like you're still mad at me," he said with a smile. "Am I wrong?"
"I'm highly disappointed but other than that, I'm indifferent."
"You don't understand." He looked over his shoulder to make sure Karen and Cox were still talking before turning back to me and admitting quietly, "I've always had a problem with commitment."
"Then why get married?"
"My friend with a benefit got pregnant. So, I married her and now I have two sons with her. I do love her but it's hard. She comes from a racist ass family and I didn't know that shit until after she got pregnant. When they're not referring to me as, 'boy,' they're asking me to lend them money. They only treat me with an ounce of respect when they need to borrow money from me. Hillbilly ass motherfuckers."
"All of that is no excuse for the unprofessional crap you have or had going with Maliah."
"Man, look at her. She's beautiful. She's sexy. She's the type of woman I always saw myself being with once I was ready for marriage. She's understanding and easy to talk to at times. She knows the baggage that comes with being a cop because she's a cop. She even has experience being with a bisexual man because her last relationship was with one. I mean, I'm not saying I'm bi but...as you know, I'm curious."
"I'm not here to be your shrink, Javon."
"Yeah, but you don't have to be a robot towards me either. We've been working this case for nearly two weeks and that was the first time I've heard you say my first name instead of my last. We're humans, Cameron. We're supposed to be able to bond with one another and empathize with one another."
"In any other instance, I'd agree with you. But we're trying to save the lives of some of this country's most marginalized people: queer black individuals. We don't have time to become buddies. We must spend each and every moment trying to end this brutal bigoted network." Right after I said that, my phone beeped. I looked at it and saw it was a text from the clerk down at the county magistrate court saying the judge had approved the protection order for William Barrett. I told Saunders, "We need to go get William Barrett now."
"The judge approved the order?" Karen asked me.
"Yes. It'll take us only a few minutes to get to the banquet."
As fast as we could, we hurried out of the precinct and drove in two separate cars to city hall. When we arrived and entered the building, we were told that William Barrett never checked in with security to enter the private event. To be sure, we searched through the event for him to no avail. Immediately, we headed out to his home. He didn't come to the door when we knocked and rang the doorbell, so we were forced to break in. We searched throughout the two-story home but didn't find anything out of the ordinary nor him.
"The garage," I suggested. "It's a two-car garage so one of the cars should at least be gone if he left on his own or with his driver."
We hurried into the garage to see not only were two cars—a silver Mercedes-Benz GLC coupe and a black Range Rover—still inside, but one of them was on and had most likely been exhausting fumes for a while. Cox found the garage door switch and hit it, opening the garage to let out the carbon monoxide that had most likely filled it. I tried to open the doors of the Range Rover, which was running, but they were locked. The windows were tinted so I couldn't make out who was inside.
"Stand back," Saunders said to us. He then pulled out his pistol and used the end of it to knock out the rear driver's side window. After seeing what was inside, he stepped back and shouted, "Oh fuck!"
"What is it?" I asked, stepping up beside him to look in.
Inside the Range Rover's back seat was William Barrett's headless body dressed in a tuxedo. In the driver's seat was his family's driver, who had been trapped with his hands tied behind the seat. He'd obviously died of carbon monoxide poisoning. The four of us hurried out of the garage and called for help with the crime scene. I couldn't believe what had happened. We tried to warn William about the danger he was in but it wasn't enough. He was now dead and we had no idea where his head was.
"He was most likely decapitated with a sharp thin metal wire," a forensics specialist told us. "That's the only thing that would take his head off and cause the blood to splatter the way it did inside the vehicle. An axe or knife or anything with more weigh to it would have caused a different blood splatter and would have been difficult to do with such limited space."
"So, you're saying someone was in the rear storage compartment of the vehicle?" Karen asked him.
"Yes. He was definitely decapitated from behind while facing the front."
"I need some air," Cox said before walking out of the garage.
"I'll go make sure she's okay," said Saunders before going after her.
"There isn't any blood on the cement floor of the garage," I said to the forensics specialist. "How could he have been decapitated in the Range Rover and his head taken out without any blood getting outside?"
"Good question," he said before explaining, "I would assume the killer had some sort of container with them for the head."
"No fingerprints, no hair, nothing," said another forensics specialist after carefully climbing out of the back of the Range Rover. "This person must have been wearing some serious protective gear because they left nothing back there."
I was about to say something but I heard the sound of Saunders' voice and I don't know why, but I began to think about the fact that he wasn't at the precinct when Karen and I showed up. I stepped over to him and Cox and asked, "Where all did you go prior to bringing pizza to the precinct?"
He laughed nervously and asked, "Excuse me?"
"Saunders, where were you?"
"I went home to see my boys for about thirty minutes and then I ordered the pizza while leaving my neighborhood."
"What is this about?" Cox asked.
"Listen, I don't want to accuse anyone of anything but knowing this network the way I do..."
"Oh my God," said Saunders. "You think I did it."
"Are you serious?" asked Cox as she got in my face. "You're accusing him of murdering William Barrett?"
"This network has infiltrated police departments before," I explained to them. "I will need to see proof that you were where you're saying you were prior to coming back to the precinct."
He stared at me and said, "You are out of your fucking mind."
"Excuse me," Karen called out to one of the forensics specialists. "Can you come here?" When he walked over, she asked him, "What is the estimated time of death for both victims?"
He looked through the report before answering, "For now, we're going with the driver expiring at 8:50 and the one in the back expiring at 8:45, about an hour ago for both."
"You can call my wife and she'll tell you an hour and a half ago, I was home," said Saunders. "I'm sure cell towers have my phone pinging near my neighborhood which is nowhere near here. And at 8:50, I should be on camera at Domino's picking up the fucking pizzas because according to this..." He pulled his receipt from his pocket and read it as he continued, "...I paid for the pizzas and received this fucking receipt at 8:53 tonight!" He handed the receipt to Karen.
"He's telling the truth, Rowell," she said to me after looking at the receipt.
"How dare you accuse me of murdering someone?" Saunders asked as he got in my face.
"I told you..."
"I don't give a fuck about what you've been through! You don't get to accuse me of violating my oath as an officer of the law! Do you understand me?"
"Javon, stand down," said Cox.
"No! Goddamn it! I should have known you FBI bitches would turn on us. You think you're the shit because you work for the federal government. Man, you ain't shit!"
"Are you done?" I asked. "Because if you are, then I can say that I am sorry. I had to be sure."
"You know what," he began but stopped himself.
"Walk it off, Javon," Cox said to him. "Just walk it off." After he walked away shaking his head, Cox looked at me and snapped, "He's a damn good detective, Agent Rowell. You should be ashamed of yourself." She quickly took off after Saunders, leaving me standing there with Karen.
"I had to be sure," I repeated.
"I know," said Karen. "Let's finish processing this scene and then get back to the hotel to call it a night."
"Okay." Before joining her, I looked back at Saunders to see he was still highly upset while talking to Cox. I felt like shit but also felt like I was within my right to accuse him. After what I'd been through with the network, I had to be sure. I could have easily been right.
I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my suite door. After climbing out of bed and putting on a shirt and shorts, I went to the door to see it was an employee of the hotel holding a box. He smiled as he told me, "Someone just delivered this package for you, sir."
"Okay," I said while signing for the package. When he handed it to me, I told him, "Wait right here." I placed the box down on the small table in my suite and then hurried over to my wallet. I grabbed a twenty-dollar bill out of it and then hurried back to the door to give it to him.
"Thank you, sir. Have a nice day."
"You, too." I closed the door and then went over to grab a letter opener in my work area of the suite before going back to the box and sat down in the lounge chair by the table to open it.
It had been sent to me from Byron. Happily, I began cutting the tape on the sides of the box. And then I remembered Byron didn't know which hotel Karen and I were staying at, meaning he couldn't have sent it. Slowly and carefully, I cut the remaining tape and the moment I lifted one flap and saw hair, I jumped up and backed away from the box. My heart was beating faster and faster by the second as I stepped towards the box again. Using the letter opener, I lifted the other flaps and dropped the letter opener when I saw what was inside: the severed head of William Barrett. Beside his head was a note that said: From Payne to Rowell, you've proceeded ahead. You may be safe, but we'll take his head.
"Answer the phone, baby," I said while trying to call Byron after I'd gotten dressed.
"I'm sure he's fine," said Karen.
When the call went to voicemail again, I decided to leave him a message, saying, "Byron, I need you to call me back as soon as possible. Baby, this is urgent. I love you." I ended the call and tried to calm down. "What the fuck is taking those agents from the Atlanta field office so long to get here?"
"They're on the way, Cameron."
"Now do you see why I was so quick to point a finger at Detective Saunders last night? Other than me and you, Cox and Saunders are the only other people who know we're staying in this hotel."
"Someone could have followed us. We're not always careful when we leave this place and come back. I think you should sit down and take a deep breath, Cameron."
"Don't tell me what to fucking do, Karen! That box doesn't have your goddamn address on it!" I noticed her reaction to what I said and offered, "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out about my husband. I can't let this happen again. I can't let the man I love become just another dead body because of this fucking network!"
The agents and forensics team from the Atlanta field office arrived and carefully took William's head out of my suite without disrupting any evidence the box may have contained. After unsuccessfully trying to contact Byron again, I called the head of his department at the FBI and finally learned that Byron was on an assignment. They told me they would tell him to contact me the moment they could get in contact with him. Luckily, it wasn't long before they could contact him.
"Baby, what's going on?" he asked me after I answered his call from a diner's phone. "My agent-in-charge said it was an emergency. Are you okay?"
I got choked up at the sound of his voice but managed to say, "Byron, thank God."
"Are you crying? Cameron, what happened?"
"The network decapitated a man and had his head sent to me at the hotel. Baby, the box has our address as the return address. You can't go home without a heavy police presence."
"Those motherfuckers! I'll kill them!"
"Byron, listen to me. Baby, our home is not safe right now. You know where to go. Remember, we've planned for this."
"I know, baby. I know. I'll be safe. Are you coming, too?"
"No, I have to end them. They don't get to threaten me and get away with it."
"Cameron..."
"I'm staying here in Atlanta to finish this case, Byron. I can't walk away from it now."
"Alright, I understand. But please be careful, baby. I love you so much."
"I love you, too, baby. I love you. Be safe." I ended the call and finally exhaled while calming myself.
"Thank goodness, he's okay," Karen said to me as she stepped back into my suite. "Are you good now?"
"I'm okay."
"Good, because the medical examiner wants to see us."
As relieved as I was that Byron was going to be safe, I didn't like that the network threatened to harm him. I didn't know what I'd do if I ever lost Byron. He was my life. Once I was able to get over the shock of having a severed head delivered to me and the fear of losing my husband, I began to think about who all knew which hotel Karen and I were staying at. Outside of Cox, Saunders, a few agents from the Atlanta field office, and a handful of people at FBI headquarters, no one else knew. I had to assume someone within that group of people was the mole, including possibly my own department chief.
"William Barrett's driver, Seymour Hankinson," the medical examiner said to us, "his cause of death wasn't carbon monoxide poisoning. In fact, there wasn't any carbon monoxide in his system at all."
"How is that possible?" I asked. "That garage was filled with it. We had to open the garage door to breathe in there."
"His cause of death was sudden cardiac death."
"This makes no sense," said Karen. "Are you telling us the driver died of shock just like Vince Hendricks and Michael Travers?"
"No, Seymour Hankinson did die from sudden cardiac death but it wasn't brought on from severe shock. I found a puncture wound on his right buttocks."
"He'd sat on a syringe," I said aloud after realizing it.
"Exactly," said the medical examiner. "While I won't be able to confirm if what was in that syringe worked its way through his bloodstream and caused him to experience sudden cardiac death until I can get results from the full toxicology report, I can tell you some of the substance was on his skin around the puncture wound. It's a microscopic amount but I was able to determine what the substance is: hydrofluoric acid diluted by a saline solution and potassium. Hydrofluoric acid is highly corrosive, even in small amounts but it's colorless and can be easily diluted with a solvent. If someone is injected with a tiny amount of the combination, it would cause damage to heart tissue but not significant enough to cause death. However, if they are injected with a large amount at one time, it would cause sudden cardiac death within a few minutes."
"So, someone placed a syringe under the driver's seat?" I asked. "And when the driver sat down, the syringe stuck him and his weight pushed down the plunger?"
"Correct."
"That explains why he died five minutes after William had been decapitated," said Karen. "The killer decapitated William and then tied the driver's hands behind the seat as the acid worked its way through the driver's system."
"Call us the moment you get the results from the toxicology screenings," I said to the medical examiner. I then followed Karen out of the building but stopped when my phone began ringing. I didn't recognize the number but quickly answered it anyway, "Hello?"
"Special Agent Rowell?" asked a man on the other end.
"Yes, who is this?"
"It's Dr. Neil Nathan. Detective Saunders forwarded your number to me. How can I be of assistance?"
"Has Saunders shared any details of the case we're working on with you?"
"He hasn't but I'm familiar with the case because I've seen it on the news."
"My partner and I are on the way to your office, Dr. Nathan."
"I'd have to schedule you for an appointment due to..."
"No, we need to meet with you now. There are lives depending on it, sir." I ended the call and said to Karen, "Let's go."