FIFTH, WRATH by Rylie Dark

Author:Rylie Dark [Dark, Rylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“What is this all about?” Casler asked, looking somewhat annoyed as he came out of the interrogation room, leaving Karpinski to ponder his position alone under the bright lights. Lexi had called him out, then left her earpiece on the table in the observation theater to join Agents Cowell and Benson in the hallway.

“Casler, these men are with the FBI. They were working the Umber/Fowler case before we got here. Gentlemen, this is my partner, Special Agent Dietrich Casler.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, I’m sure,” Casler said, covering his annoyance at the interruption with formality and reaching out to shake both agents by the hand.

“I apologize for disrupting your process, but we have some new information that we think may be critically relevant to your case. If you’ll follow us, we’ve been working out of Conference Room 4 in the FBI wing of the building.”

“So, what is this all about?” Lexi repeated her partner’s question as they began to follow the two FBI agents down the hallway away from the interrogation block of the Interpol wing.

“Does the name Rebekkah Prince ring any bells?” Cowell asked.

“Not in my belfry,” Casler said, “Who is she.”

Lexi frowned. Rebekkah Prince. That name did ring as familiar, but she couldn’t immediately place where she’d seen it. Then she remembered what Cowell had said about doing his homework on Lexi’s own previous casework, and suddenly the name clicked into place.

“Wait a second,” she said, “Rebekkah Prince. I do know that name. She was Tiffany Fowler’s roommate in the off-campus apartment. She was the one that found Fowler’s body when she came back from spring break.”

“Bingo,” said Benson, “Give the lady a cigar.”

“What about her?” Lexi asked.

“She’s dead,” Benson said bluntly.

“And that’s only the tip of the iceberg,” said Cowell, “Right this way, please.”

He opened the door of a conference marked with a large brass numeral: 4. Inside, a long table held a scattering of papers, photographs, and files. Around the conference table, large panels of corkboard had been rolled in, and Lexi saw more of the names and faces she recognized from her own research pinned and linked together with the classic lines of red string. Whatever Cowell and Benson had come across, Lexi could see at once that they had dived headfirst into the rabbit hole.

“When did she die?” Lexi asked, looking around in amazement at the walls of rollable cork bulletin boards that circled the room. Her own investigation had certainly not gone into this depth into the victim’s roommate. She was out of town for spring break, alibis checked out, then came home at the expected time. In the context of the larger investigation at the time, nothing about the roommate’s story had seemed out of place. This pair of FBI agents, however, had scrutinized every detail of the girl’s life, from her birth in Fresno, California through her demise nearly ten years ago.

Ten years ago?

Lexi looked at the obituary column that had been pinned to the corkboard. It was dated June 3rd, 2013, from the Miami Herald.

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