Chapter Six

Hector Gonzalez was fifteen years older than his sister and bore little resemblance to the images Faith had found of Maria online. Still, when the agents mentioned her, his eyes welled with tears, and he had to take a moment to gather himself before motioning them inside.

"You guys want a beer?" he asked.

"I'm fine, thank you," Faith declined.

He looked at Michael, who shook his head. "Just me then," he said, "if that's okay."

"Go ahead," Faith said. "Thank you for speaking to us."

"Yeah, of course. I'm glad you guys are finally picking the case up. I've been trying for months to get them to keep looking, but it's like they gave up. What happened? Did he get someone else?"

Faith nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Hector sighed and shook his head. "I fucking knew it. Pardon my French." He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a beer, then popped the top and joined them at the kitchen table. "I told them the killer would do it again if they stopped looking. Who was it this time?"

"Rebecca Wells."

"Who?"

"A former sound engineer from Bethel Records."

He shook his head. "Doesn't sound familiar. Not one of Maria's friends?"

"No."

He nodded and sipped his beer. "Maria was a good girl. I loved her, man. She was a lot younger than me, but I loved her even though she was only my half-sister. She always had the biggest smile." A sizable smile spread across his own face as he reminisced. "I remember when I first came over to see her. She was… five months, I think? I lived with my mom at the time, but she and my dad were finally trying to be cool with each other for my sake, so she let me go visit him and his new wife. I remember Julie came out with this little, tiny baby, and when that baby saw me, her face lit up in a huge grin, and I was in love. Man, she was a cool kid sister. I used to take her out on my bike. We'd go to the park over on Howard, the one with the duck pond. We'd ride around, and she'd stare at the ducks and the geese and babble her little baby talk. When she got older, she'd ride her own bike, and we'd just talk about whatever was on her mind."

"I bet she loved that."

Hector's eyes grew a bit wistful, but the smile never left his face. "She really loved it. She used to shout things, like being on my bike was the same as being on a roller coaster. She'd holler and yell and…"

He shook his head and stood abruptly. "I'm being rude. Can I get you something to drink?"

He'd already offered them beers but standing had nothing to do with wanting to be a better host. Faith could see a few of the tears Hector tried to stifle escape in spite of his efforts to contain them. Faith's heart went out to him. He still mourned Maria like she had been taken from him only yesterday.

"No, thanks," Michael said, "but we really appreciate it."

"You can have one if you like," Faith said. "We don't mind."

He sat back down. "No. No, you're not here for that. I guess I'll have more than one after you leave. But now, just… do you have any new leads?"

Faith didn't want to point out that the death of Rebecca Wells constituted the only real lead. Knowing that the man who had killed his sister was still out there terrorizing people wouldn't do anything to improve his mood.

"Mr. Gonzales," she said, "did your sister have any unique skills or traits? You know, abilities that some people don't have or maybe something she was better at than most people?"

"You mean like superpowers?" he asked with a laugh. "Yeah. Her hearing. She had super-hearing. Like Superman. She could hear things other people couldn't. Not like voices, though. I mean, she could hear conversations from like, fifty feet away, but she didn't ‘hear things. ‘She would sometimes stop what she was doing because she heard something from a car radio or something that was clear across the parking lot. Stuff like that. I don't know if it helped her as a violinist or not. She still had to work her ass off to get any good at that, but I know she could hear every single mistake she made. She pushed through it, though." He chuckled. "One time, I blew a dog whistle once to see if she could hear that. She got so mad at me!" he laughed again. "It's the only time she ever swore at me. Needless to say, I didn't try that again."

Dog whistles. It gave credence to Faith's theory. "That's exactly what we wanted to confirm."

"Confirm?" Hector's eyes widened with hope. That means you have a theory about who did this. Who did it?"

"We don't know that yet," Michael replied, "But we're exploring the possibility that the killer used high-frequency sounds to lure the victims."

Hector frowned. "Those bastards. I told them not to stop looking. I told them that asshole would come back. This is what you get when the police are too lazy to do their jobs."

His hands closed into fists. Faith worried they might lose control of the interview, but Turk laid his hand in Hector's lap and gazed into his eyes. She had seen him do this many times with grieving family members. It never failed to calm them, and Hector was no exception. His hands relaxed, and he softly stroked Turk's fur, looking forlornly back at the German Shepherd.

"So you think that this other victim had good hearing too?"

"Yes," Faith replied. "When your sister was… the night she was…"

"Murdered," Hector finished. "You don't have to be soft with me about it. I live with it every day."

Faith nodded. "When Maria was murdered, a neighbor reported that his dogs were distressed. In the case of the most recent victim, a passerby reported that local dogs were also reacting with distress. And yes, she had exceptional hearing. Now we know that your sister did as well, thanks to you."

"Will it help you to know that?"

"Anything that gives us a better picture of things helps."

"Do you think it's someone in the program?"

Faith sat up a bit straighter when Hector said that. "The program?"

"At the University of Washington. There was a research program ten years ago. She went there for hearing tests. They were trying to determine what gave some people perfect pitch."

"What school?" Faith asked.

Hector blinked. "The University of Washington."

He looked a little concerned that Faith could have forgotten that so soon. Michael rescued her. "She means what school of study. Is it the School of Communication? The School of Applied Sciences?"

"You know, I'm not sure," Hector said, "but I think maybe I've got something around here. If I still have it, I mean. She wrote some phone numbers for me on one of the postcards."

"Postcards?"

"You get paid for a study like that," Hector said, "and they send you a postcard when your appointments are coming up or when you can do an extra appointment."

"All of it snail mail?" Michael asked.

"Ten years ago, yeah. Dunno why. Nowadays, I'm pretty sure the Post Office only exists to bring you bills."

"That would be a big help, if you can find us that information." Faith said. "It might lead us to more people who can talk to us and sometimes just talking to more people who interacted with… the more people we can speak with who knew the people involved, the more likely we are to discover something that can send us in the right direction."

"Anything I can do to help, I will." He stood, gently disengaging from Turk, and headed upstairs. "I keep all of her stuff in my room. It might take me a while. There's a lot of it."

"Take your time."

When he was out of sight, Faith turned to Michael. "I want to find out if Rebecca went to the same study. That would give us a connection between the victims."

"Not to mention a very small pool of people who would have known that both of them were susceptible to high-frequency sound," Michael agreed. "I hate to ask, but are we sure Hector's not the guy? His grief is real, but a lot of killers grieve."

Faith shook her head. "No, he didn't show any sign of deception when he said he didn't know who Rebecca Wells was. Even pathological liars show some sign that they're not telling the truth."

"I figured. I just had to ask."

Hector returned downstairs. Faith lifted her eyebrow. "That was fast."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I found what I was looking for sooner than I expected. There's a separate little box with all of her college stuff. I found the postcard on top. Um…" he hesitated, the card still in his hand. "Do you guys mind just taking a picture of it? I realized why I kept it now. It's got her handwriting on it, and I don't have anything else with her handwriting. Not from when she was an adult."

"Sure," Faith replied. "That's fine."

He smiled softly and set the card down on the table. It was a green four-by-six rectangle of cardstock with a simple typed message that instructed Maria Gonzalez to report to Lab B-131 at eleven a.m. on December first for her voluntary research examination. The examining doctor's name was Dr. Gregory Tate.

Underneath the reminder was a note quickly jotted in ballpoint pen. Don't let me forget this!

Faith took pictures of the postcard with her phone, then nodded at Hector. "Thank you. This really will help."

"I'm glad," Hector said. "Hey, I know you guys can't give me five minutes alone with the guy, but can you at least call me and tell me when you get him? Or her, or whoever it was? I just want to know that my sister's been avenged. Can you do that for me?"

Technically speaking, that was a breach of policy, but it was a rule Faith felt comfortable breaking in this case. "Sure. I'll let you know."

"Thank you."

Hector looked down at Turk and ruffled his fur softly. "She would have loved you. She always liked dogs."

The three agents left the grieving man. Faith contained her excitement until Michael pulled away from the house, but when she confirmed with the university that Rebecca Wells had participated in the same study, she pumped her fist.

"Good news?" Michael asked.

Faith looked up the University's staff directory as she replied. "Yep. Rebecca Wells was part of the same study. And… Dr. Tate is still employed with the University."

Michael grinned. "Shall we pay the good doctor a visit?"

"I think we should."

As Michael drove them to the University, Faith thought of Hector, who would probably never fully recover from the loss of his sister. She couldn't give him Maria back, but she could find him closure.

We'll get this guy, Hector, she promised. We'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else.