far has been successfully held back from the media.” Cunningham’s tone made Racine sit back. “We need to keep it that way, Detective Racine. Is that understood?”
“Of course. But if I’m to be a part of this task force, I don’t expect information to be held back from me.”
“Fair enough.”
“So was this some sort of revenge killing?” Racine caught on quickly. Maggie couldn’t help but be impressed, and she turned back to the window when Racine looked her way.
“Or is that too obvious?” Racine asked. “The life of a senator’s daughter in exchange for five?”
“Revenge certainly can’t be discounted,” Cunningham answered between bites of his sandwich.
“Maybe now you can also tell me how you knew about it before we discovered it was the senator’s daughter?”
“Excuse me?”
Maggie looked back at Cunningham. Racine dared to ask the question all of them had been thinking. The woman certainly had more guts than brains.
“Why was BSU called in on this?” Racine asked, apparently unaffected by Cunningham’s position of power or his scowl. Maggie couldn’t help thinking that if Racine did have aspirations of getting into the FBI, she may be squashing an important reference.
“A homicide on federal property is a federal matter,” he told Racine in his best cool, authoritarian tone, “and therefore, the FBI is in charge of the investigation.”
“Yeah, I know that. But why BSU?” Racine didn’t flinch. Maggie watched to see if Cunningham would. By now, everyone was watching to see if Cunningham would.
He pushed up the bridge of his glasses and looked around at each of them. “There was an anonymous phone call early yesterday morning,” he finally confessed, digging his hands into his pockets and leaning against a seldom-used podium next to the chalkboard. “It was traced to a pay phone at the monument. The caller simply said we’d find something interesting at the FDR Memorial. The call came in on my direct line.”
No one said anything.
“I’m not certain why the caller chose to tell me,” Cunningham added when no one, not even Racine, dared to ask. “Perhaps they knew I was at the crime scene at the cabin. Perhaps they knew we had been asked to profile that case.” He looked over at Maggie. “You were quoted in the Times. Anyone could have made the assumption we were on the case.”
Maggie felt a sudden flush, regretting that she had said anything. That morning a reporter had caught her off guard, coming down the steps of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He had asked about Agent Delaney. She hadn’t been able to mask her anger and simply told him that they would catch the responsible party. That was all she had said, but in that evening’s edition of the Washington Times, the reporter had identified her as a criminal profiler, insinuating that BSU was somehow involved.
“It doesn’t matter.” Cunningham tried to relieve her discomfort with a wave of his hand. “The important thing is for us to find this bastard. Agent Tully, how did it go with Emma and Agent LaPlatz?”
“I think it went well.” Maggie noticed Tully seemed back to his normal self. He pulled out a copy of the line drawing from a folder and added it to the mess in the middle of the table. “Whether this Brandon is involved or not, Emma knows she saw him with Ginny Brier that evening. Agent LaPlatz is in the process of faxing the sketch to all law enforcement within a hundred-mile radius with a note that he’s wanted for questioning.”
“Questioning and perhaps a voluntary DNA sample. We need to find him. Detective Racine,” Cunningham said, picking up the sketch, “perhaps you could have some officers take a copy of this and check if anyone saw this Brandon around the monuments Sunday morning. Maybe he’s also our mystery caller.”
Racine nodded.
“And we need to know what group those boys in that cabin belonged to. We keep coming up empty-handed.” He looked to Gwen. “There’s one survivor. He’s refused to talk to anyone. He may have important information. Would you give it a shot?”
“Of course,” Gwen said without hesitation.
Just then, Tully pulled out the pamphlet Maggie had seen him folding earlier. It still had the accordion folds, and he tried smoothing out the creases on the side with the man’s picture. “I forgot about this. I found it at the monument Sunday morning. It’s from the group that held the prayer rally Saturday night. Emma thinks Brandon might be a member. And in fact, if Wenhoff’s time of death is accurate,