Page 63 of Killer Clone

“Maybe. Probably waiting for us.”

Stella’s face was stone. Hagen knew she understood. The cuneiform on the wall had pulled them in. The killer would’ve known the FBI would turn up. Not the cops. The FBI. Them.

The room fell silent. Stacy was sitting in the empty break room rereading the report on the case in Pennsylvania. Caleb was out interviewing a suspect in a fraud case. The office had never felt so empty.

Hagen wasn’t sure he liked it. He adjusted his tie. The butterflies hung straighter. That was another change. He wouldn’t have worn this tie if Stella hadn’t chosen it for him. He didn’t even know why he still owned it.

He’d neglected to tell Stella that it’d been a gag gift from Anja, back during their little fling. She’d never expected him to wear it. He couldn’t imagine what would go through her head if and when Anja remembered she’d done that.

The videos played on.

“Stop.” Stella pointed at the frame in the top corner of the screen. “What’s that?”

Hagen stopped the playback and blew up the frame. A battered white Toyota truck passed under the lens on Commerce Street. Hagen froze the image.

Stella pulled her chair closer.

Hagen let the video run. The vehicle turned onto a side street. There were no cameras on that street or at the exit. He searched surrounding cameras, but the driver had picked his route. He was gone.

The plates were blurry and impossible to make out. Stella swore quietly. “Anyone get the model?” Her eyes were wide, and there was an intensity in her face that worried Hagen. Anger and fear.

Everyone shook their heads. They’d have to enhance the picture somehow.

“Someone’s watching us.” She paused, then spat out the next word. “Again.”

An ache opened in Hagen’s stomach. They’d been watched before. Bugged. Monitored. Spied on in their own homes. But the people who’d broken into their lives were dead.

Still, they were being hunted as though they’d done something wrong, as though their lives were fair game to a player who didn’t give a shit about the rules. An old anger returned. A burning desire to find the person responsible and…and put them away. That was what they needed to do. They had to stop him.

But first, they had to get those dirty eyes off them.

Stella rose from her seat and called down the hallway. “Mac!”

Mac appeared in the door. “You could’ve walked a few steps, at least.”

“Shouting was easier. Can you arrange to have Hagen’s house swept for bugs?”

Mac’s eyes widened. She stepped into the bullpen. “Seriously? You think?—”

“No. I don’t think. It’s just…I want to be sure.”

“Right. Of course. I’ll make a call. Give me your keys. They’ll do it today.”

Stella threw her keys across the office. Mac caught them with both hands. Those were Hagen’s keys being tossed around like a ball of wastepaper. And yet they were Stella’s keys now too. The place needed to be swept. If only for her peace of mind.

Hagen glared at the screen. Part of him wished he could focus the pixelated blur that was the driver’s face with just the fury of his own eyes. “Hey, Mac, if I send you a picture, think you can enhance it?”

Pocketing the keys to Hagen’s house, Mac came around the desk to stand behind Ander, who was finishing his health bar and starting on a second.

“Enhance that? No. There’s nothing there to enhance. Sorry. You’re going to have to take better pictures next time.”

Stella pushed her chair back to her own desk. She scowled at the screen. “All we’ve got so far is a white Toyota related to the investigation. It’s not much.” She spoke as she typed. “How’s it going with Marrion’s phone?”

“Not great. He couldn’t have bought a cheap Nokia, could he? I’d have been through that like…like Ander at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“Hey!” Ander stopped mid-bite. “I skipped breakfast.”

“Sure you did, big guy.” Mac patted his muscular shoulder. “The phone’s going to take a few more days, but I dived back into his computer in the meantime. There was something off there, something I missed on my initial inspection.”

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