Quantico
November 2

Baldwin hated fighting with Taylor.

Having to tell her about Fitz over the phone was a catastrophe. He should have called Sam first, had her there. He’d heard the cracks form in Taylor’s otherwise rock-hard shell, and it made his heart break. She was the strongest woman he knew, the bravest. And the most foolhardy when her dander was up. He hoped like hell he’d gotten through to her, that she would actually listen to him and stay in Nashville. She’d promised, but he wasn’t convinced. Knowing her friend was out there in need may prove too hard for her to hold back on.

He needed to get this hearing over with and get back to her before she did something stupid.

He checked his watch. They were due to reconvene in twenty minutes. He needed to get a move on.

Reever was waiting for him when he arrived.

“What took you so long? I thought you weren’t going to show.”

“There’s some role reversal for you, Reever. That’s how I felt yesterday.”

“Touché.”

“Listen, how much longer do you think this is going to go on?”

“Depends, Doc. How much more do you have to tell them?”

Baldwin looked at his friend. How much more indeed. He could just sacrifice himself, fall on his sword, give them everything right now and walk away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d considered leaving the Bureau.

But with the Pretender on the loose, he needed the full force of the FBI behind him. No, he needed to continue to tread delicately, not giving them anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. He still didn’t know what they had hanging over him, though he was starting to get an inkling. And if he was right, he was in more serious trouble than even the disciplinary board realized.

“Baldwin, time to go in. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They got settled at the table. Tucker entered the room like a judge; Baldwin waited for the cry of “All rise.” Instead, Tucker actually flashed him a smile, which disconcerted Baldwin to no end. It wasn’t friendly, that was for sure.

Tucker made sure his minions were ready, then looked down his long nose at Baldwin.

“You may continue where we left off yesterday, Dr. Baldwin.”

“All right. We executed the search warrant at dawn. We had such hope that we would find Kaylie Fields alive.”

Northern Virginia
June 17, 2004
Baldwin

Harold Arlen came to the door outrigged in a terry cloth robe over short blue-striped pajamas, moose hide slippers and a glass of orange juice. Every piece coordinated, he looked like any other suburban guy who’d been startled out of his morning routine.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded.

The Fairfax County detective held up a sheaf of papers. “We have a warrant to search the premises. Please stand back, Mr. Arlen.”

“Search? For what? I haven’t done anything. What the hell is this about?”

“There’ve been a number of little girls gone missing over the past few weeks, and—”

Arlen’s mouth fell open. “You think I’m the Clockwork Killer? Are you daft, man? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

The air crackled, the situation’s intensity ratcheting up. Baldwin and Charlotte stayed back. This was the Fairfax Homicide boys’ show. Goldman was there, overseeing his detectives as they served the warrant. Arlen’s probation officer was there, too. When they pushed into the house, moving Arlen out of the way, his PO grabbed him and held him aside. That didn’t help his temper at all—his fury and indignation continued to explode. He met Baldwin’s eye like he knew who was behind this, and Baldwin felt the implicit threat. He just smiled. They were going to wrap this up today. Maybe, just maybe, little Kaylie would be found before it was too late.

A deep rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Baldwin couldn’t see very far. They were sandwiched in the cloister of houses, but the weather forecast called for severe storms today. Just what they needed—rain to hamper the search efforts.

Baldwin saw the curtains twitch across the street at the Kilmeades’ house. The door opened a few seconds later. Mr. Kilmeade came out onto the porch, fully dressed despite the early hour, the scowl on his face evident from a distance. He started down the stairs, intent. Baldwin broke away from the group to head him off. He met him at the bottom of the drive. Kilmeade had built up a head of steam, Baldwin actually had to put out an arm to stop him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You can’t go over there.”

“What’s happening? Is Harry being arrested?”

“They’re executing a search warrant. Arlen broke his parole when he had contact with your daughter. They have to look at every angle in this case, and Arlen fits.”

Kilmeade was shaking in fury. “That’s a lot of preconceived bull. I told you, Harry wouldn’t hurt a child. It’s not in his nature. And how dare you use my dead child in this case? What is she, just a means to an end? She’s not alive to defend herself, to explain. How dare you?”

“I’m sorry this upsets you, Mr. Kilmeade. But right now, we need to stay back and let the police do their job. Why don’t we go back into your house and have a cup of coffee?”

Kilmeade shook his head. “No. You’re not welcome in my home. You’ve used me and my family to further your sordid goals. I’m going back in and calling a lawyer. You don’t have the right to come in and railroad Harry just because he fits your idea of what a killer should look like.”

“Mr. Kilmeade,” Baldwin started, but the man ripped his arm away and stormed back into his house. Great. Just what they needed, more lawyers involved.

Baldwin went back across the street. Charlotte met him at the door, a huge grin on her face.

“What is it? Did you find Kaylie?”

“No, we didn’t. But he’s got kiddie porn galore on his computer. It was open—we must have interrupted his morning constitutional. More than just dabbling, it looks like he might be trafficking, as well. And there’s pictures of all of our victims too, including Kaylie, and several other girls we don’t recognize.”

“Then we’ve got him!” Baldwin had to resist sweeping Charlotte into a hug. He settled for squeezing her hand. This was fantastic news.

“But there’s no sign of Kaylie, or where he might be holding her?”

“No. This is going to take a while. They’ve Mirandized Arlen. Goldman is having him transported back to Fairfax County for interrogation.”

“Has he lawyered up?”

“Not yet, though his PO is going insane. He insists he’s innocent. Arlen says he has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Don’t they all. Kilmeade, from across the street? He’s pretty fired up, said he was going to call a lawyer on Arlen’s behalf. So be prepared. Homicide is taking care of the families, right? Do we need to be along for that?”

“No, we’re good there. They’ve got it covered. We can keep focused on helping find Kaylie.”

Baldwin nodded. “Okay. I want to do a walk-through of the house, get a feel for things, and I want to be there when they do the interrogation. There’s still something we’re missing.”

“I figured as much. Goldman said he’d give you a ride whenever you’re ready. It’s going to take a bit to get Arlen processed anyway. I’ll stick around here, if that’s okay with you. I want to see what else they might find.”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you back in Quantico, then.”