Tainted Mind (35 page)

Vivi looked down to give her a measure of privacy. Tracing a line down Meghan's arm, Vivi paused at the marks left by the bindings. They looked a little different than what they'd found on Rebecca, but then again, Rebecca's body had decomposed enough that a comparison wasn't really viable. Vivi gave a mental sigh. The good news was Meghan had survived; the bad news was that with a live body they couldn't get as aggressive about evidence as they could with a dead
body. She had swabbed the cuts earlier, but doubted that, without more invasive techniques, they'd get enough to confirm a material match in the kind of bindings used on the victims. But Vivi didn't mind giving that up as long as Meghan lived. She knew no one did.

“Ms. Conners?”

The woman looked up.

“I'm going to head back to the station now. Please, if there is anything I can do to help you or your family, will you let me know?” Vivi reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card.

Meghan's mother stared at the card for a moment, then reached for it. “You're with the FBI?” she asked, reading the title. “I didn't know Ian had called in the FBI.”

“I consult with them, and I was on this case as a favor to Ian before Meghan was involved,” Vivi answered.

“You think whoever killed that poor woman in the well did this to my daughter?”

Vivi had assumed someone had spoken to her about this, but judging by the look on the woman's face, this was all news to her.

“We think it's a possibility, yes. There are a number of similarities that lead us to believe we are looking for one person.”

Ms. Conners's eyes went back to Meghan for a moment then flitted back to Vivi. “She wasn't supposed to live, was she?”

Like Meghan's mother, Vivi's eyes traveled to Meghan's battered and bandaged face. Her mind flashed back to that morning, to finding Meghan's bruised and brutalized body lying naked in the gully. The blood pressure machine whirred to life, beeped, and revealed a steady number. Meghan might have been left for dead but she was fighting.

C
HAPTER
24

THE STATION WAS BUZZING
with activity when Vivi and Marcus arrived. Sharon had gone home for the day, but they could hear feet shuffling on the floor above, chairs being moved around and scraping against the hardwood, and voices. Hoping Ian and his team had found something, she and Marcus trudged upstairs. The toll of the day was definitely wearing on her.

“Vivienne,” Ian said, as she stepped onto the landing. “Meghan?”

At his question, everyone paused and looked at Vivi. “Same, serious but stable. She's a fighter though. I bet we'll know more tomorrow.”

“God, I hope so,” Carly muttered.

“Amen to that,” Brian added.

The room wasn't all that small but was packed with people. In addition to Carly, Ian, and Wyatt, Naomi and Brian were there. With her and Marcus joining the crew, and Nick coming in right behind them, it made for tight quarters. Even so, the murder board was tidy and next to it stood a new one, covered with pictures of men. Seven of them to be exact. Three were the men she'd met with Nick and Ian earlier in the day. The other four were identified as Schuyler Adams—Joe's father—Mike Ross, Kirk Hancock, and Lee Grant.

“I take it these other three are men from the videos?” Vivi asked, stepping closer to have a good look. Ian came up beside her and confirmed her assumption. He stayed silent as she examined each picture, trying to recall if she knew them, if she'd met them anywhere before.

“Ross and Hancock look a little familiar, but it might be because I met them at the fundraiser,” she said. “Grant isn't ringing any bells,
but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Where are you with the background searches?”

“A few showed up in the system and we can talk about that in a minute,” Ian said. “We were just wrapping up for the night here, but I want to go over everything with you when we get home. Marcus?” The officer turned, as Ian called his name. “Have Carly catch you up and then you guys can head home for the night. Wyatt, you're done, so go home and get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, folks. Daniel and Sam should have some physical evidence by ten or eleven, or so they've promised, and I think we all need to try to get as much rest as we can before then.”

He paused and made a point of looking at each one of them, to make sure they not only heard what he was saying but were actually listening too. Apparently satisfied, Ian continued. “Tomorrow morning we'll reconvene here and review all the evidence against what we dug up today on each of these men. Based on that, we'll decide if we have a viable suspect and enough to take to a judge for a warrant.”

To Vivi's surprise, even Naomi and Brian started putting away their computers. Then again, she didn't doubt that they would head straight back to The Tavern and pick up where they'd left off. Which reminded her, “Have you guys seen Travis?” she asked.

Both her cousins shook their heads. “No,” Naomi said, sliding her computer into a bag. “But he said he was going down to New York today. I think he found some places up here for one of the films he's scouting for and wanted to meet with the director. Why?”

Vivi shrugged and handed Brian the folder he was reaching for. “No reason. I just haven't seen him much and was wondering what he was up to. I feel kind of bad that he was sent all the way out here to check on me and, other than breakfast, I haven't even been able to give him the time of day.”

“You didn't ask us to come here, the parents sent us,” Brian interjected. “And besides, last time I saw him, he was happy as a clam. He's come up here a few times with his parents, but he was saying this is the first time he's really been able to take the back roads, if you know what I mean.”

Vivi knew exactly what Brian meant and gave a small laugh. Aunt Mary, Travis's mom, was
not
a ‘chill’ kind of person and Vivi
was pretty sure the word ‘relax’ was not even in her vocabulary. She kind of envied Travis at this moment and wondered what it would be like to be driving around looking for pretty places rather than studying a murder board. Like she'd been trying to do after the debacle in Seattle.

“Anyway,” she said, grabbing a stack of files from Ian, “If you see him tomorrow morning before you come in, ask if maybe we can try to catch lunch or something.”

Naomi and Brian nodded as they finished gathering their things. Once they'd headed out, Vivi realized the place was empty—with the exception of her and Ian. She watched as he made a last pass around the room. His shoulders sagged a bit under his uniform and, as her eyes traveled down his body and over his clothes, wrinkled and muddied from the activities of the day, a wave of fatigue washed over her. She yawned.

“Tired?” he asked, walking toward her.

“I think it's sympathy fatigue. You look like you could use a good night's sleep.”

Ian stopped in front of her. After tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with his good hand, he rested his palm against her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw.

“I don't think I've ever told you how beautiful you are.”

His comment threw her for a moment. It was out of the blue and spoken so matter-of-factly that the raw honesty of what he felt when he looked at her was made clear. Not one to handle compliments well, had it been less sincere she would have turned away in embarrassment. But as it was, she offered him a smile and touched her lips to his.

“Thank you,” she said. And taking a moment, she leaned against him as his cheek came to rest on her head.

“We have a long road ahead of us, Vivienne,” he said, his voice quiet. “It feels like the momentum is picking up, like we have more leads now, but we still have a long way to go before whoever is doing this is locked up for good.”

She nodded against him. It was true, even if he made an arrest tomorrow, it could be months before a trial. Evidence had to be sorted, compiled, reviewed, and evaluated. It
was
a long process, much longer than the television shows portrayed. And she was glad
he didn't expect a magic bullet. But even so, living just one day thinking someone was obsessed enough with her to kill other women and target those close to her had taken a toll on both of them. For her, for Ian, and for all the women who had died, Vivi hoped tomorrow would bring some progress, some real progress, and they might find themselves a real, viable suspect.

“Guv?” Nick popped his head in. “I'd say I hate to interrupt, but I don't, so I won't. I want to be caught up on what you lot found today.”

Vivi stepped away. Catching her eye, Ian cocked his head in question. She shrugged in response.

“Did you find anything today?” Ian asked.

“If I did, does that mean you'll invite me home for dinner and a debrief?” Nick asked.

“Maybe.” Ian crossed his arms.

“Maybe,” Nick answered. Ian glared at him. Nick sighed.

“Yes, I did. All jocular antagonism aside, we do have some things to talk about.”

Vivi watched as Ian held Nick's gaze as some form of silent, male communication occurred. After a moment, Ian turned his gaze back to her; then he let out a long breath.

“You think there's enough food in the freezer or should we stop and pick something up?”

*   *   *

Ian watched Vivienne as she walked out of the bedroom, phone to her ear, Rooster at her heels. They'd stopped at his parents’ to pick up the dog, then headed home for a quick shower and change of clothes before Nick joined them. Vivienne was now on the phone with Sam, getting an update on where he was with the evidence.

“You two seem awfully cozy,” Nick said, taking a sip of his beer.

Ian didn't bother to answer.

“I never lived with her, you know. Close, but as you Americans like to say, no cigar.”

Nice
, just what he needed tonight, a reminder that the man having a friendly dinner with them had once been one of Vivienne's lovers. He didn't feel threatened by Nick, but he was feeling extremely possessive and protective of Vivienne. The protective part didn't surprise him so much, the possessive part did. He was pretty sure it was an altogether new feeling for him.

“Yeah, you fucked that one up,” Ian said, hoping to close the door on where this was heading—it was not a conversation he wanted to be having.

“She told you, didn't she?” Apparently, he wasn't going to be that lucky.

Ian slid a pan of lasagna onto a pot holder on the kitchen table. “How you dismissed her and then used her theories to work a case, taking credit for them? Yeah, she told me. She may trust you as an investigator, but don't believe for a second that she trusts you as a friend.”

After pouring himself a glass of milk, Ian caught Vivienne's attention and gestured with his good hand to her empty glass, silently asking what she preferred. She pointed to the wine from across the room, even as she continued her conversation, and he set a glass on the table for her. He would love a glass himself, or a beer, but not now, not while there was someone still out there after Vivienne.

“She reduced me to a school boy, you know,” Nick said.

Ian looked up from dishing out a helping onto Vivienne's plate.

“I half-hated her because she's so damned smart, smarter than me by a long shot. And I was half in love with her. Like some kind of punk teenager, I couldn't handle the conflict so I solved the problem by making it go away. If she hated me, problem solved,” Nick explained, taking the serving spatula from Ian.

Ian raised an eyebrow. “I hadn't realized we'd reached this level of sharing.” He was pretty sure Nick was exorcising his own guilt, but as far as Ian was concerned, he was doing it with the wrong person. He didn't give a rat's ass what had been going through Nick's head when he and Vivienne had their falling out. He thought it was a dick move, but Nick's loss was his gain.

“Sharing what?” Vivienne asked, joining them at the table. Rooster followed her in and flopped his body on the floor beside her seat,
looking ever hopeful for a scrap. Ian shot a look at Nick, letting him know this one was all him.

“What a fuck up I was all those years ago,” Nick answered, sliding a huge portion of lasagna onto his plate.

Vivienne looked startled for a moment then turned to look at Ian—to check on him was more like it, to make sure he wasn't upset. He shrugged.

“You're here with me and not him,” Ian commented.

“That's very straightforward, MacAllister,” Nick drawled.

“Life's not all that complicated, Larrimore. Not unless we make it that way. Or someone else does,” he added, in reference to their current situation. “Any news from Albany?” he asked, changing the subject as they dug into the meal.

“They've got DNA running on all the swabs collected from the hospital,” Vivienne started. “So far about half have come back as only Meghan's. They'll be running them through the night, or rather Daniel will be running them through the night, so we should know by tomorrow if there is any blood other than hers in the mix. They focused on biological evidence today, since it takes the most time. Tomorrow, they'll start on the other evidence, like her car and clothes. They'll see if they can find anything similar to what we found on Rebecca, and of course, the car will be dusted for prints and vacuumed for particles.”

“How is Daniel?” Ian asked.

“Holding up. Sam said he's a machine, but a meticulous one, which is a good thing. I think, given Daniel's past, he's probably the last person to do anything that might compromise evidence, but it was good to hear Sam's confidence in him, especially on this case.” At Nick's questioning look, Vivienne filled him in on the kidnapping and death of Daniel's twin sister.

By unspoken agreement, they finished their meal in silence, and once the dishes were clean, all three made their way to the living room and sat down. The files of the men—of the potential suspects—lay on the coffee table. As Rooster dragged his soft toy and blanket into the room, Ian picked up the top folder and handed the first picture over to Vivienne.

“We'll go through all the faces Naomi and Brian found and then go from there. Your Uncle Mike was in all three videos, as were Brian and Travis.” He handed her the three pictures.