A Dallas Suite

Chapter Thirty Four

When Moore asks for things, they get done fast. I was with a full SWAT task force complete with a full police perimeter set around Jeff's apartment building within 45 minutes.

Our SWAT operators are good, some of the best. But I knew I had more training than the majority of them from my time in the military. I spent an unfathomable amount of time working closely with every variation of specialized group. But I knew my place. I was no longer meant to be on the front line in these situations. I briefed the SWAT team leader on everything and waited behind the formation while they made entry into the room.

Sometimes situations called for us to do call outs. We would announce ourselves before making entry and give the subject inside a chance to give themselves up. This was not one of those cases. We knew Jeff was capable of murder and spent years fighting close quarter wars. There was no warning. SWAT breached the door with a large sledge designed to break down doors. It only took one hit for the cheap apartment door to break in.

Only a few seconds passed before I someone yell "clear!" Bridges, the team leader walked out. "Your job either just got way harder or way easier, man."

I walked in and knew he was right, I just didn't know which option he was right about. My desk was covered in paperwork, but it had nothing compared to the apartment. The walls were covered in overlapping pictures. So much so that you couldn't see the wall at all in some areas. There were stacks of papers, articles, pictures, every piece of information imaginable on dozens of men.

I recognized some of the faces, a few of them I had spent hour after hour memorizing the past few days, learning everything I could about their lives. All four victims were there, pinned up somewhere on the wall. Their darkest secrets and biggest accomplishments scattered among the mess. Diggs, Caping, Anderson, Richards, they were all there. Pictures of them smiling, out with their families. Printouts from their social media and websites. Jeff had done an impossible amount of research.

Then I saw the four of them together. Behind the dining room table - not that there was a dining room in the tiny studio apartment - all four of their pictures were next to each other on the wall. And in each of them, there was a hole right in the middle of their face. A hole that was made by stabbing a knife through the picture. It seemed like a crude way of checking off an item on a list. And if I was to believe that, then the other pictures next to them were also on the list.

"Oh fuck," Moore almost gasped as he walked up behind me. "Well at least we know for sure we have the right guy."

"No kidding, Sarge."

"We need to get officers to go do a welfare check on every person in this apartment. How many names are we dealing with? 20? 30?"

"At least that, but we don't need to check on all of them," I pulled up the list of names that Hope had cross checked with Jeff's list on my phone and handed it to him. "There are six names left on this list that Jeff failed to provide in his list. And all of their faces are right up there next to our four victims. These are the main ten he plans to kill."

I gave him a moment to process all of it. "Sergeant, if you can get officers to check on these last five guys, I'm going to check on Sean Singleton. He's the one this all started with. And now that Diggs is dead, my guess is that Jeff will be going for him next. He knows we're on to him now, but he's not going to risk putting off the most important kill any longer."

"Jeff I'm not going to just let you walk into that alone. What if Jeff is there now? Or shows up while you're there?"

I grabbed my phone and started walking towards the door, "I hope he does show up."