Chapter 1175: The Third Murder, Summoning the Team

When the SWAT team finally stormed the devastated hallway behind their riot shields, the man responsible for five deaths and eleven injuries was already devoid of any vital signs.

One pound of C4 isn't especially powerful; only a short section of the second-floor corridor in the El Centro College library was damaged. The building's structural integrity remained intact.

And considering that over fifty students inside the main building were kept safe thanks to the bravery of two campus security officers, one could call it a small mercy amid a night of horrors.

Just as the three FBI agents thought this nightmare evening had finally ended and were preparing to take their leave, Chief David Brown—looking unusually chipper—approached them personally.

"Attorney General Jackson said there's an urgent matter and he needs to reach you, Agent Tavoler."

Earlier, due to the threat of explosives, DPD had jammed all cell signals in the area, and the blackout hadn't yet been lifted. So all three agents' phones had remained disconnected.

Jack, puzzled at how they'd tracked him down amid all this chaos, took the radio offered by the police chief.

The Attorney General clearly knew about the shooting, but didn't press for details. After exchanging a few formalities, he gave Jack an address and asked that the FBI team head there immediately.

"What happened?" Aubrey asked as he brought around their Suburban. Jack helped JJ remove her body armor and stowed their gear in the trunk.

"Head to the Bank of America Plaza. There's been another murder."

"Oh right—Jack." Chief Brown called out again, waving from a distance. "The mayor wants you three at tomorrow's press conference. Once all this blows over, he's planning to present you with the Key to the City of Dallas."

——

Bank of America Plaza was also located in downtown Dallas, just four blocks from the site of the earlier shooting.

The 72-story skyscraper's exterior was outlined with vivid green light strips that made it hard to miss at night—almost forming a visual echo with the distant Reunion Tower.

By the time the trio arrived, the elevator lobby on the building's first floor had already been sealed off with police tape. Forensic teams in uniform bustled about inside.

As soon as mobile signal was restored, Jack's phone began vibrating nonstop. In addition to multiple missed calls from Attorney General Jackson, he'd received several files related to the new case.

"The victim's name is Joseph Fielding, CFO of Webster Industries, age fifty-three."

Jack held up the yellow police tape for JJ and pointed to a middle-aged man in a security uniform nearby. "JJ, talk to the witness. Aubrey, come with me to check the body."

This time, the Attorney General didn't show up in person—clearly, things had spiraled out of control. The previous two murders had occurred in hotel suites and, thanks to timely intervention by the victims' lawyers, were never formally reported.

But this was different—a legitimate crime scene in a public location. No one commits suicide by stripping naked, tying themselves to a chair, taping their mouth shut, and somehow maneuvering into an elevator that opens onto the building's main lobby.

As Texas's top prosecutor, Patrick Jackson showing up here personally would only invite unwanted media attention.

"Jesus, this scene's going to give me nightmares for a week," Aubrey muttered, his face twisting at the grotesque sight before him.

"We can't be the only ones who suffer," Jack grinned darkly and snapped a photo with his phone. He sent it to Jubal, instructing him to gather the rest of the team and get to Dallas ASAP.

The victim was stark naked except for a pair of socks. His hands were bound behind him to an office chair. Tape sealed his mouth shut, and someone had drawn two red X's over his eyelids using lipstick.

The message was obvious: the killer wanted this to be public. She wasn't satisfied with murder—she wanted attention.

That made time the most crucial factor. A secret investigation by just three agents clearly wasn't enough to stop the killer before they struck again. Jack immediately called in reinforcements.

"Cause of death appears to be poisoning. The lipstick was applied postmortem. The killer didn't attempt to conceal her identity—not even wiping off the bodily fluids on his thigh."

Jack switched off his UV light and sighed. These were the worst kinds of cases—evidence everywhere, but unless the perpetrator had a prior record, all the DNA and prints in the world meant nothing.

Samples from the previous crime scene had already been sent to the CSI lab in New York, but they'd turned up no matches in any known database.

Just then, JJ returned from questioning the guard. Her face flushed at the sight in the elevator, and she instinctively turned away.

"The guard found the victim's clothes in his office on the 52nd floor. That was likely the actual murder site. The killer moved him into the elevator afterward—clearly wanted the body discovered."

Her findings only confirmed what Jack had already suspected.

"So... what's with the lipstick X's? Some kind of message?" Aubrey asked, still baffled.

"Maybe they don't mean anything—just an attention grab. I think the killer's upset that the last two murders were kept quiet."

Before Jack could finish his sentence, all three of them noticed a short, balding, middle-aged man in a fine suit pushing past the police tape. Strangely, the officer manning the line let him through.

"Excuse me—who's Jack Tavoler?"

The man looked to be about the same age as the victim—mid-fifties. His shirt and jacket were top-of-the-line, and his slick demeanor practically screamed 'lawyer.' His eyes darted between Jack and Aubrey.

He was clearly in a hurry. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his tie was missing. He looked like he'd been dragged out of bed.

"I'm Agent Tavoler."

"Larry Barrett. I represent Webster Industries as legal counsel."

Jack shook his offered hand out of courtesy, though the man's oily grip made his skin crawl.

"Just a reminder, Mr. Barrett—this is a restricted crime scene."

They were still standing facing the elevator doors, which remained open behind them, the corpse of Joseph Fielding still slumped inside.

Barrett followed their gaze and finally noticed the body, visibly recoiling.

"Oh God. Poor bastard. May he rest in peace."

He crossed himself before continuing, "Actually, I was just on the phone with Attorney General Patrick Jackson. He told me you were a reasonable gentleman."