The Last Move (Criminal Profiler 1)

They made the rest of the hour-long ride in silence. At one point, he turned on the radio, allowing a country-music song to drift lazily around them.

They arrived at the Bastrop Federal Correctional Institution, and after passing through the guarded main entrance, parked. Inside, they showed their identification and secured their weapons in lockers for visiting police.

Bastrop was a minimum-security prison a little under two hours from San Antonio. The fact that William, a convicted murderer, had been placed here spoke to the influence his father had wielded. Without his old man’s pull, William would have been slated for a maximum-security prison twice the distance away, with all solitary units and strict conditions.

The Bastrop warden, Jim Smith, a tall, lean man with a gray swatch of hair, greeted them on the other side of the locked doors.

Smith shook their hands. “Welcome.”

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Kate said.

Mazur shook his hand. “Detective Theo Mazur. You spoke with Agent Kate Hayden on the phone.”

“About William Bauldry. I’ll help you if I can.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Mazur said.

Smith guided them down a plain hallway toward an office at the end. Inside he nodded to his administrative assistant, a plump middle-aged woman, and offered each a chair in front of his large wooden desk.

The walls were covered with pictures of the warden and several key Texas politicians. There was a collection of well-read books that dealt with prison reform, psychology, and law. A plant sat in need of watering on the credenza behind his desk, but there were no personal pictures. Not surprising. Most who worked in the prison system revealed as little as they could about their private lives. Prisoners had a great deal of free time to think and scheme against their jailers.

“What do you want to know about Richardson and Bauldry?” He motioned for them to take a seat before he sat behind his desk. “Mind telling me first what’s prompting all the questions?” Smith asked.

“We have two murders that we’re investigating,” Mazur said. “One is a Samaritan copycat; the other is a look-alike of the Soothsayer case. In both cases William Bauldry’s name has come up.”

“I know William committed murder when he was a kid, but he was one of the few I never saw reoffending. From day one William was one of our best inmates. And to be perfectly candid, I was worried. We don’t house violent offenders, but his daddy knew important people and pulled strings. You know how it goes.”

“He never gave you any trouble?” Mazur asked.

“Didn’t so much as look at anyone crossways. In his last two years, he helped my administrative assistant with filing. He was a big help, and I was actually sorry to see him go.”

“When did Richardson and William see each other?” Kate asked.

“They never had a formal appointment—that’s why I didn’t get right back to you. Took some digging to find the connection. Richardson was here to give motivational speeches. William’s good behavior earned him the job of setting up for prison events. Richardson was just one of many programs we had for the prisoners.”

“Did they get time alone?” Kate asked.

“Sure. There was always a guard in the hallway, but there were times when they were alone. I know William enjoyed talking to Richardson. William is very intelligent.”

“Warden Smith,” Mazur said. His grin was easy, natural, as if he and the warden were old friends. “We aren’t here to second-guess you. We both know you run a tight ship.”

“Did Richardson ever give William anything?” Kate asked.

Frowning, the warden shook his head. “That’s forbidden.”

“How long did Richardson visit this prison?”

“About a year. The men in his group spoke highly of him. He was very effective with the men.” He shook his head. “Do I have a problem here? Are you trying to say I let something slide?”

“No.” Mazur said. “We’re just gathering information, sir. We’re trying to connect a few dots.”

The warden’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his expression had turned guarded. “As I said, William was a model inmate. He checked books out of the library weekly, and as I understand it, he read every book we had in stock. He was one of the success stories.”

Kate’s temper scraped against her skin like nails on a chalkboard. She remembered how her father’s body twitched when the bullets cut into his flesh. “Did William have any visitors?”

“His brother visited in the beginning but not in the last ten years. However, his sister continued to come several times a year.”

“Sister?” Kate asked. “He didn’t have a sister.”

“Well, half sister is more like it. She said they had the same father.”

“What was her name?”

He moved to his desk and checked William’s file. “Gloria. Gloria Hernandez.”

Gloria Hernandez, now Gloria Sanchez. As Nina’s daughter, she had grown up in William’s house. They had been close as kids. Were they half brother and sister, or had that just been a story they told?

Mazur scrolled through his phone and pulled up Gloria’s picture. “This her?”

The warden leaned in. “Yes, I believe it is. Though she didn’t wear makeup or jewelry like that. She was always modestly dressed.”

“How often did Gloria visit her brother?” Kate asked.

The warden checked several pages in the file. “Two or three times a year ever since he was first incarcerated.” He squinted and he checked an entry. “Five times during his last year.”

“Did you two ever speak?” Mazur asked.

“Sure. I make it a policy to know something about regular visitors. She was always nice. The two of them liked to play chess when she was here.”

“Chess?” Kate asked.

“She was very good. I watched a game between the two of them once. She was William’s equal, if not better.”

The three talked another ten minutes before Kate and Mazur thanked the warden. Outside the prison, the warm air coaxed the chill from her bones. She was silent as she and Mazur walked toward his car.

In the SUV, she released a breath. “William and Richardson were connected. And Gloria visited William on a regular basis.” She could easily have taken instruction from William and made additional contact with Richardson.

“Was Gloria really his half sister?”

“My mother said Gloria got into trouble in high school and William’s father spoke to my father and the charges were dropped. It’s the kind of thing a father would do for his daughter.”

“That’s the kind of thing a father does do for his daughter.”

“William never said a word to me, but I do know the family was very loyal to Nina.”

He reached for his phone and typed a text. “I’m asking Palmer to check Gloria Sanchez’s birth certificate.”

“I doubt William’s father is listed, but it’s worth checking.”

“Think the Soothsayer might have been a case that Richardson studied?”

“It’s the kind of case that would appeal to him.”

“So William could have learned about the case particulars from Richardso

n.”

“Very possible.” Her phone rang. She noted the number was blocked. “Agent Hayden.”

“It looks like you’re visiting my old haunts.”

William’s voice slithered down her spine. She looked toward Mazur and mouthed William Bauldry’s name. “I did. The warden had some interesting things to say. Do you have a GPS on the car?”

Mazur raised his phone and mouthed, “Trace.” He got out of the car and immediately dialed a contact at the phone company for a triangulation on the incoming call as he searched around and under the car for a tracking device.

“I don’t know anything about a GPS. I wish we could talk about it, but we don’t have time. I’ve about thirty seconds. I’m guessing Detective Mazur is already tracing my call.”

Lying to him would make him angry and her look foolish. Her best play now was to make him believe he had something to prove to her. “You know how it works.”

“Why are you so determined to find me, Katie?”

“There’s so much we need to talk about. Seventeen years is a long time.”

“A lifetime.”

“I understand you and Dr. Richardson were good friends.”

“I wouldn’t call us friends. I helped him with this and that. Fascinating man.”

The calmness of his tone stoked her anger. “But the time you spent alone with him would have given him time to tell you about the women he murdered along I-35.”

“That’s a stretch, don’t you think?”

She hesitated, wishing she could see his face as she delivered this line. Quickly she ticked through the Samaritan case. She knew all five murders had been carried out with the same weapon, which had never been recovered. Had Richardson realized his mistake when he’d texted authorities from his secretary’s computer? Had he asked William to send Gloria to take it? “Did Gloria get the gun from Richardson for you?”

He was silent a beat. “You have been busy.”

The edge in his tone told her she’d struck a nerve. “She was your half sister.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve figured a few things out.”

She gripped the phone and closed her eyes, and she concentrated on keeping her tone even. “Why won’t you face me, William? We can talk like adults. I know teenagers make mistakes that they regret.”