Split Second

“Are you a doctor or something, Mr. Tully?”

“No, Josh. I’m an FBI agent.”

“You’re kidding? That is so cool.”

The boy’s face brightened, and Tully saw that Emma noticed. Instead of heading directly for the phone bank, Tully stalled.

“I work at Quantico, in the Investigative Support Unit. I’m what you’d call a criminal profiler.”

“Wow! That is so cool,” Josh repeated.

Without looking at her, Tully saw Emma’s face change as she watched Josh’s reaction.

“So do you track serial killers just like in the movies?”

“I’m afraid the movies make it look more glamorous than it is.”

“Geez! I bet you’ve seen some pretty weird stuff, though, huh?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I have. I really need to make a phone call. Josh, would you mind keeping Emma company for a few minutes?”

“Oh sure. No, problem, Mr. Tully.”

He didn’t look at Emma again until he was safely at the pay phone. Suddenly, his belligerent daughter was full of smiles, genuine this time. He watched the two teenagers talk and laugh while he dialed the number. For the first time in a long time, he felt happy and glad that Emma was with him. For a few minutes, he had almost forgotten that the world could be cruel and violent, then he heard Assistant Director Cu

“It’s Tully, sir. You paged me?”

“Looks like we may have one of Stucky’s.”

Tully felt instant nausea. He had been anticipating and dreading this call for the last couple of months.

“Where at, sir?”

“Right under our noses. About thirty to forty-five minutes from here. Can you pick me up in about an hour? We can go to the site together.”

Without asking, Tully knew Cu

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

This was it. After years of sitting behind a desk in Cleveland and profiling killers from afar, this was his chance to prove himself and join the real hunters. So why did he feel sick to his stomach?

Tully made his way back to his daughter and her friend, anticipating her disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Emma, I’ve got to leave.”

Immediately, her eyes grew dark, her smile slid off her face.

“Josh, did you say you were here with your mom?”

“Yeah, she’s getting us popcorn.” He pointed to an attractive redhead in the line. When she noticed Josh pointing, she smiled at him and shrugged at the stagnant line in front of her.

“Josh, Emma, would you mind if I ask Josh’s mom if Emma could join you for the movie?” Tully steeled himself for his daughter’s panic and horror.

“No, that would be cool,” Josh said without hesitating, and Emma immediately seemed pleased.

“Sure, Dad,” she said.

Tully wondered if she knew how cool she was pretending to be right now.

When he introduced himself to Je

He smiled all the way to his car, greeting people in the parking lot and jingling his car keys. The evening was still warm and the moon promised to be brilliant despite wisps of clouds. He slid behind the steering wheel and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, as though he had forgotten the configuration of his face when it was happy. What an unusual feeling, happiness and excitement, and all in the same evening. Two things he hadn’t felt in years, though he knew both would be short-lived. He drove out of the theater’s parking lot feeling he could take on anything and anyone. Maybe even Albert Stucky.

CHAPTER 11

Tully followed Cu

Tully had seen plenty of crime scenes, severed limbs, bloodied walls, mutilated bodies and sick, disgusting killer signatures that ranged from a single long-stemmed rose to a decapitated corpse. But all those scenes, up until now, had been only in photographs, digital scans and illustrations sent to him at the FBI Cleveland Field Office. He had become one of the Midwest’s experts in developing precise criminal profiles from the bits and pieces law enforcement officers sent him. It was his accuracy that had prompted Assistant Director Kyle Cu

Tully knew Cu

The unofficial word was that O’Dell had burned out and needed a break. Rumors suggested that she had lost her edge, that she was combative and reckless, that she had become paranoid and obsessed with recapturing Albert Stucky. Of course, there were also rumors that Assistant Director Cu

Tully pulled the car as close to the barricades as he could. Cu

“Where is she?” Cu

“She’s still in the Dumpster. We haven’t moved a thing, except the pizza box.”

The detective had a neck as thick as a linebacker’s and the seams of his sports jacket bulged. He was treating this like an everyday traffic check. Tully wondered which big city the detective had come from, because he definitely had developed his no-nonsense ma

“Where is the pizza box?” Cu

“Officer McClusky gave it to the doc. The kid who found it sorta dropped it, and the stuff got all jostled.”

Suddenly the smell of stale pizza and the sounds of police radios made Tully’s head hurt. During the drive, the adrenaline had pumped him into action. Now the reality was a bit overwhelming. He ran unsteady fingers through his hair. Okay, this couldn’t be that much different than looking at photos. He could do this, and he ignored the recurring nausea as he followed his boss to the Dumpster where three uniformed officers stood guard. Even the officers stood a good ten feet away to avoid the stench.