Page 60 of Dead Mountain

Glancing through the class lists she’d obtained from the registrar, Corrie located an Alexander DeGregorio who had been on campus around the same time as Tanner. His record was less complete than Tanner’s—perhaps he’d transferred somewhere else. A check of the FBI’s database furnished her with an address and phone number in Falmouth, Massachusetts. It appeared to be a business address, but it was the only one on file. She made the call.

“Prometheus Libre Associates.”

“May I speak with Alexander DeGregorio?”

When Corrie was finally transferred to DeGregorio’s office after going through an alarming number of assistants, his secretary informed her that DeGregorio was in the field at Nirwana, Indonesia, and temporarily out of reach.

Corrie left a message for him to call her back. It was now past six, and the reruns on her muted TV had given way to local news. As she reached for the power button, an info ticker crawled across the bottom of the screen, telling of a gangland-style execution—of someone with the odd name of Cheape—that had taken place in Socorro.

Socorro: that was Watts’s territory. She turned on the sound and learned that Cheape, a retired maintenance worker from Kirtland AFB, had been bound with duct tape in his own living room and shot through the back of the head. That would be a noteworthy case for Watts, she thought, which might be interesting to hear about at their next meeting. And there was Kirtland—again.

Her mind temporarily strayed to Watts and his curly hair and white teeth. She quickly pushed these out of her head and turned back to her computer. As she did a deeper search on DeGregorio, she found out the guy had done well after leaving grad school—built up and sold a bioengineering company for a couple of hundred million by age thirty-five, then started a foundation to improve the treatment of Neglected Tropical Diseases, or NTDs, endemic to South Pacific countries like the Marshall Islands, Malaysia, Brunei, and Borneo, where he’d spent the first part of his life as a navy brat.

Nirwana, the secretary had said. Corrie googled this and discovered it was a beach community on the island of Sulawesi. The photos on her screen showed an unspoiled idyll of turquoise water, white sand, and lush palm trees.

If you’re going to start a foundation, might as well start one in paradise, she thought. Standing, she wondered if all FBI agents were this cynical—or if that was something else she had Medicine Creek to thank for.

32

THE PRESS CONFERENCE was held on the broad steps of the Albuquerque Field Office. A podium and stanchions had been hastily assembled, and the press had gathered in the parking lot directly in front. As Sharp strolled up toward the podium in the afternoon light, Corrie—following him at a slight distance—was shocked by the vast sea of cameras and boom microphones, the scores of eager faces that made up the gathered media.

Corrie had known the case was big, but looking at the call signs emblazoned on the video cameras—CNN, FOX, MSNBC, various network and cable channels—she realized not only that these people had come from all over the state, but that a lot of them represented national news. She’d seen press vans and gaggles of reporters around town—one had even parked outside her apartment a few mornings ago, forcing her to leave by a back exit—but this was a far cry from the impromptu media briefing she’d conducted eight days before.

Earlier, Sharp had, without preamble, let her know he’d be handling this one—and she’d felt relieved. Behind Sharp stood an impressive, blue-suited row of big shots. Garcia was in the middle, silent and stern, hands crossed in front, the other agents on the case, including Corrie, flanking him on either side.

Briskly, without a pause to test the mike or clear his throat, Sharp began. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, voice echoing lazily across the lot, “we’ve called you here to present our initial findings in the ongoing Dead Mountain case. Our purpose is to present such facts as we know, answer your questions to the best of our ability, quell any rumors, and in so doing uphold our duty to inform the public.”

He’d brought along no notes to refer to, so after a quick glance around he continued. In a calm, almost conversational tone, he reviewed the earlier history of the case, then proceeded to summarize the new discoveries so quickly, and so masterfully, that the group fell silent in order not to miss a single word. He sounded surprisingly frank and forthcoming—naming the two victims who’d been found—except he did not mention that Tolland killed Wright and then stabbed himself in the heart.

When he was done, he swept the audience with his heavy eyes. “We’ll now take a brief number of questions. Please be direct and to the point.”

He glanced over the audience. Everyone, it seemed, raised their hand at once. He pointed. “Ms. Fleming.”

Corrie, looking in the indicated direction, was astonished to see one of CNN’s major anchors.

“Where were these new bodies found in relation to the campsite?” the woman asked.

“Roughly three miles to the north. The specific location has been secured, and let me warn the public and press to please not attempt to access or approach it.”

“One member of the expedition is still missing?” another reporter asked.

“Yes—Rodney O’Connell.”

“Any idea where he might be?”

“Unfortunately, no. But we’re searching.”

“Were these victims undressed, like the others?”

“These had greater protection against the cold, but by no means sufficient for the conditions.”

The voices began to shout over each other. A skeletal woman with blonde hair made herself heard. “Some of the victims found earlier—many, in fact—were in a strange condition, burnt feet and hair, missing eyes and the like, that has never been satisfactorily explained. What was the cause of death in these newly found victims?”

“You described the condition of some of the bodies as not being ‘satisfactorily explained.’ That remains the situation today. There are certain deaths for which we still lack clarification. Once we have that evidence, we won’t hold it back.”

Sharp waited for the commotion to die down, then he selected another raised hand.

“When this tragedy first came to light,” asked a man beside a camera labeled Tripp NewsNational, “many theories were brought forward. Has the discovery of these two bodies pushed any of those theories to the front?”

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