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The Dark Trail
The Dark Trail Read online
J.C. FIELDS
Copyright © 2020 J.C. Fields
All rights reserved.
~~~~
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted or transferred in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system or device, without the permission in writing by the author.
Any resemblance to actual people and events is purely coincidental.
This is a work of fiction.
Sharon Kizziah-Holmes, Publishing Coordinator
Cover Design – Nikki Fowler
Paperback-Press
an imprint of A & S Publishing
A & S Holmes, Inc.
Acknowledgements
Once again it is time to thank all of the individuals who have helped get this manuscript polished and ready for others to read. Many have been with me since the beginning and a several are new to the team.
Sharon Kizziah-Holmes, owner of Paperback Press, has been my publishing coordinator since The Fugitive’s Trail. I cannot thank her enough. Over the course of these past five years she has continued support and encouragement me. She is the one who deals with all the formatting for both my eBooks and paperbacks. If I had to deal with those concerns, I would have lost my sanity a long time ago.
Nick Weyland is a retired US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent. He was instrumental in explaining the process and reasons a federal law enforcement officer must retire at the young age of fifty-seven.
To my developmental editor, Holly Atkinson. Thank you for your excellent job of correcting all the glaring inconsistencies in the original manuscript. You have helped prove the adage a writer should never edit their own work.
Shirley McCann and Tina Vyborny, the newest members of the team. Thank you both for smoothing out the final draft. It never hurts to have more than one final read-through before sending the manuscript off to the publisher.
Niki Fowler, a graphic artist extraordinaire. Thank you for producing a cover that conveys the theme of this new novel and continues to build upon The Sean Kruger Series motif. Everyone who previewed the image enthusiastically approved.
Paul J. McSorley, returns as the voice of Sean Kruger after his excellent production and performance on A Lone Wolf for Audible.com. The first question I am asked when I tell fans there is a new Kruger book ready is: When will it be on Audible and will Paul be doing the narration? Once I tell them, yes and yes, the next question is: WHEN? You have a lot of fans out there, Paul. And, I am definitely one of them.
And again, last but not least, my wife Connie. She is and always will be the love of my life and my largest supporter. She has been instrumental in determining the next trail the Sean Kruger story will take. Stay tuned.
Other Publications
By J.C. Fields
The Sean Kruger Series:
The Fugitive’s Trail
The Assassin’s Trail
The Imposter’s Trail
The Cold Trail
The Money Trail
The Michael Wolfe Saga:
A Lone Wolf
Part One
Present Time
Arlington, Virginia
The first glimpse of dawn lightened the eastern sky as Deputy Director of the FBI Alan Seltzer tied the shoelaces of a brand-new pair of New Balance athletic shoes. He rose on the balls of his feet to make sure the shoes were as comfortable as the day he’d bought them. They were.
Satisfied, he exited the kitchen into the garage, hit the button for the automatic door opener and retrieved his five-year-old Cannondale carbon-frame racing bike from its place of honor, a space-saving bike rack on the east wall. The bright yellow cycling jersey and padded biking shorts fit his slender frame snuggly, a reminder he was still in good shape even though his fiftieth birthday would occur in a few weeks. After fastening the straps of his boldly colored bike helmet under his chin, he guided the bike into the ebbing darkness and punched the code on the keypad to lower the door.
With it closing behind him, his eyes were immediately drawn to a dark-colored Ford Explorer sitting in front of the house across from his. A vehicle parked on the street in this neighborhood, while not illegal, remained a rare occurrence. He noted the unusual event, but it did not cause his sense of concern to heighten.
As he mounted the bike to start his daily routine, he remembered not kissing his wife before leaving the bedroom. Something he rarely missed. The thought of going back inside was quickly dismissed as he glanced at his watch. He was already behind his morning schedule.
Riding a bicycle ten miles a day and more on weekends helped him stay fit and gave him the solitude to contemplate problems connected to his high-pressure job. It was his favorite time of day.
Obtaining his current position had taken hard work and perseverance. As the first African American deputy director, he was responsible for keeping the various divisions working smoothly and overseeing high profile investigations. Notable predecessors of his position included men like Clyde Tolson and the infamous Mark Felt, who just before his death in 2008, confessed to being Deep Throat for the Washington Post reporters during the Watergate scandal.
The problem on his mind this morning was a particularly disturbing pattern he’d discovered within numerous FBI and municipal police investigations over the past five years. He’d told no one and was preparing to take his findings to the director the following day. If the director gave the go-ahead, he would assign a specific agent within the FBI to take over the case.
The special agent he had in mind was Sean Kruger. They had been classmates at the FBI Academy and had obtained agent status on the same day. Even though their career paths were different, they’d remained close friends throughout the years. Alan had become a rising star within the ranks of management and Kruger had established his reputation as the agency’s top profiler. This being the reason he wanted Kruger to lead the investigation. If he was correct, there was a new serial killer on the loose and the FBI would need Kruger’s skills to find him.
As he rode, and contemplated this problem, he noticed the dark SUV following him in the rearview mirror attached to his bike helmet. A note of concern crept into his consciousness as his morning ride entered a particularly beautiful park several miles from his home. Parts of the park were fairly isolated and his path would soon lead to one of those sections.
He heard the SUV rapidly approach on his left and pass too close for his liking. This caused him to slow his pace. As the vehicle raced ahead and skidded to a stop, it blocked the road ahead. Applying the brakes, he slowed his bike to a stop as his concern grew. No one emerged and he could not see the driver inside the vehicle due to the dark tint on the windows.
Wanting to avoid a confrontation, Seltzer prepared to turn the bike in the opposite direction and ride away.
At this same moment, the SUV’s front driver side door opened and a man emerged with a suppressed pistol in his hand.
Seltzer did not have time to react as the pistol spat four times. The impact of each bullet forced him away from his bike as he fell to the pavement. Surprise and denial were the last emotions he felt as his head struck the asphalt. The last image he would ever see was his killer walking toward him. As blackness engulfed him, his body exhaled for the last time.
***
The assailant walked toward the fallen bike rider. A thin skin colored balaclava obscured his facial features as he approached his target. Standing over the prone man, he pointed the suppressed Glock at the individual’s head. As he smiled underneath the balaclava, he pulled the trigger one more time, sending a bullet into the fallen man’s temple.
Satisfied, he returned to the SUV and drove away.
Twenty minutes would pass b
efore an early-morning jogger came across the body of FBI Deputy Director Alan Seltzer and called 911.
Chapter 2
Springfield, MO
The sound intruded into his dream. At first it was just an annoyance, then, as he swam toward the surface of consciousness, he realized it was his cell phone. Sean Kruger instinctively reached for the device on his nightstand. As he accepted the call, he glanced at the digital clock radio next to the phone: 5:32. Phone calls at this time of morning were rarely good news.
“Kruger,” he croaked as he struggled toward alertness.
He listened, raised himself to sit on the side of the bed and cradled his forehead, his elbow on his knee. “When did it happen?”
He grew quiet as he listened.
Stephanie Kruger stirred beside him and rose to one elbow.
“Ah, geez.”
She placed her hand on his back and he turned to her with an empty, distant stare.
After listening a few more moments, he said, “I think that’s a good idea, thank you. Call me when you know more details.” The call ended and moisture welled in his eyes. “Alan Seltzer was executed this morning on his morning bike ride.”
She sat up in bed, her eyes wide. “What do you mean, executed?”
“Someone shot him four times in the chest from a distance and then fired a round pointblank into his head. That is an execution.”
“Oh, my gawd, Sean. When?”
“About an hour ago. That was Paul Stumpf. When the EMTs found his ID, they called the FBI Headquarters, who patched it through to Paul. He’s on his way to the scene as we speak.”
“What about his wife?”
“FBI agents are at the house now. Apparently, Alan was the only target.”
She reached over, drew him into an embrace and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He returned the hug as a tear trickled down his cheek. “Paul wants me in DC to head up the investigation.”
“I thought you were on a special team.”
“Not anymore.”
She closed her eyes and they embraced tighter.
***
By ten a.m. more details concerning the murder of Alan Seltzer emerged. Forensic evidence from the crime scene told FBI investigators a large vehicle had screeched to a halt, blocking the road. The bicycle and body had been found twenty-five feet from the skid marks. Four spent shells had been found in this area with one shell a few feet from the body. A security camera, positioned in the center of the park, captured the incident, although the distance caused the image to be grainy.
The video allowed the technicians to identify the vehicle as a dark five-year-old Ford Explorer. A similar truck was found abandoned in the parking lot of a Falls Church, Virginia Target store late the same morning. An Arlington police report identified the vehicle as stolen the night before. FBI forensic technicians pored over the SUV at their lab located at Marine Corps Base at Quantico, and by late evening, found no evidence as to the identity of the assailant.
At 5:14 p.m. central time, Kruger received an email outlining his new assignment as the lead investigator into Deputy Director Alan Seltzer’s murder. He was to report directly to FBI Director Paul Stumpf at Headquarters the next day.
***
“How long will you be gone?” Stephanie sat on the bed as she watched Kruger pack his suitcase.
“At this point, I would say indefinitely. I just don’t know, Steph.”
She nodded. “We’ll miss you.”
He looked up and gave her a grim smile. “This is not what I want right now.”
“I know.” She paused for a moment. “When’s your flight?”
With a glance at the digital clock on his nightstand, he said, “Bureau plane will be at the airport around seven, which will put me into DC by ten eastern time. I have a meeting with Paul at seven tomorrow morning.”
“At least you don’t have to fly commercial.”
“No, the agency is making this a high-priority. I don’t believe any requests for manpower will be denied either.”
“What did JR say?”
“He fussed about it for about half a second and then agreed to accompany me to DC. He’s meeting me at the airport. That way if he gets a chance to come back early, he’ll have a car.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ll go over to Mia’s after you leave.”
***
JR Diminski, now an official member of the FBI Cyber Crimes Division, stared out the window next to his seat as the Gulfstream 550 slipped through the night sky. He turned to Kruger, who sat across the aisle. “I’m sorry about Alan.”
Kruger nodded. “I’m thankful his kids are grown. They can help his wife get through the next few days, weeks and months.”
“I’ve never met her.”
With a smile, Kruger turned to his friend. “I really didn’t know her either until we took a cruise with her and Alan the first year Steph and I were married. The two wives developed a close friendship during that week. Stephanie will join me once we know when the funeral service is scheduled.”
“So, we aren’t on the special task force anymore.”
Kruger shook his head. “The task force has been suspended until further notice, by order of the president.”
“What about Sandy and Jimmie?”
“They’ll be joining us in DC day after tomorrow.”
“Good.” JR returned his attention to the window.
After an extended length of silence passed between the two friends, JR said, “Any ideas where to start?”
“I’m going to look through Alan’s bureau and personal files. I want you to do a deep dive into his office and personal computer. I’m told the bureau has all of those items locked away waiting for us. My first inclination is to assume he stumbled onto something he wasn’t supposed to, and it cost him his life.”
“You don’t think it was random?”
“No, I’m positive it wasn’t random. The fact someone stole a Ford Explorer and ambushed him in the area of the park with the least amount of CCTV security worries me. This was carefully planned and executed. We’ll start there.”
JR nodded.
***
At 6:45 the next morning, the J. Edgar Hoover building was abuzz with activity, most of which centered around the investigation into the murder of Deputy Director Alan Seltzer. In the midst of this maelstrom of activity, Sean Kruger and JR Diminski entered the conference room next to the office of the Director of the FBI. Milling around the room, Kruger saw Scott Lambert who was the Executive Assistant Director for the Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch, Dr. Teri Monroe, Executive Assistant Director for Science and Technology Branch and numerous individuals he did not know. He also saw Joseph Kincaid, the current National Security Advisor for the President of the United States. JR made a beeline toward him while Kruger talked to Lambert and Monroe.
As he shook her hand, Monroe said, “I haven’t spoken to you since the Randolph Bishop affair. It’s good to see you, Sean.”
“Good to see you too, Teri. Congratulations on your promotion.”
With a shrug, she blushed. “I don’t get to do things I enjoy any more, like working with agents such as yourself.”
Kruger gave her a smile. “How’s Charlie Craft?”
“He’s now one of my assistants.”
“When you see him, congratulate him for me.”
“You can do it yourself. He’s been assigned to this investigation.”
“Good, I haven’t had the pleasure of working with him for a while.”
Turning to Lambert, Kruger said, “It’s been awhile since I last saw you too, Scott. Wish the circumstances were better.”
“I agree.”
Their conversation lasted a few more seconds before Kruger noticed JR and Joseph approaching. After shaking Joseph’s hand, the older man leaned over to speak quietly to Kruger.
“When was the last time you spoke to Alan?”
After blinking a few times, Kruger replied, “I hate
to say this, but it’s been several months. Why?”
Joseph took a deep breath. “Look at his personnel files. My nephew told me about a theory he had but didn’t have enough evidence to take it to Paul yet.”
“What was it?”
“I’m not going to taint your perspective. You’ll find it.”
At that moment, Paul Stumpf entered the conference room and sat at the head of the table. Everyone found a seat and the room grew quiet.
“Thank you all for being here early this morning. This will be a short meeting. There are a few organizational matters we need to attend to.” He looked around the room; everyone remained quiet, waiting for him to proceed. “First and foremost, the individual in charge of the investigation into Alan Seltzer’s death will be Special Agent Sean Kruger.”
Everyone nodded and shot a glance at Kruger.
“You will give him your fullest cooperation at all times, no delays or push backs. Is that clear?”
Again, everyone nodded.
“Now that we have that settled, Dr. Monroe, would you present the findings your team found yesterday?”
Teri stood and walked to a laptop at the opposite end of the conference table. She pressed the side of a mouse and a screen on the wall lit up with a still image. She said, “This is a security camera view from the First Virginia National Bank near Alan’s home. Pay attention to the left side of the screen.” She clicked the mouse again.
From the left side, a bike rider could be seen pedaling hard as he crossed the fisheye lens’ focal range. Two seconds after the cyclist disappeared, a dark SUV followed the same route. She paused the video when the Explorer was halfway across.
“We believe this is the SUV involved with the shooting.”