Vail 02 - Crush (30 page)

“Wish I could hit that sack with you.”

They joined the huddle of task force members—Dixon, Gordon, Mann, and Brix. Lugo stood at the periphery, rubbing his face with both hands, in obvious distress.

“What do we have?” Vail asked.

Lugo looked at her with a long face. “Same fucking thing. Breasts, windpipe, toenail. Go see for yourself.”

Relief flooded over Vail—Jonathan was safe because it was now highly probable the killer was still in California—and she instantly felt deep remorse and embarrassment that she could be relieved over the discovery of a new victim. She cut herself some slack—lack of sleep did strange things to the way one processed information and stress—and moved past Lugo.

Matt Aaron was crouched over the body, his klieg lights creating the sense of an important event. And there, in the center of his stage, lit up like a diamond on display, was a woman who looked to be in her late thirties.

“TOD?” Vail asked.

Aaron did not shift his attention. “Maybe an hour ago.”

“Jesus Christ,” Brix said. “An hour?” He twisted his body, eyes scanning the countryside. “Where the hell is this guy?”

“Obviously not in Virginia,” Robby said. He touched Vail’s shoulder—she wished he’d lean over and give her a hug and kiss—she needed it. “I’ve still got those clothes I bought for you in my car. I’ll leave the bags on Roxxann’s trunk.”

“Thanks.”

He then walked off, toward his car.

Vail closed her eyes. She was so tired she thought she could fall asleep right here, right now, vertically suspended. But there would not be any sleep, not for a while.

“The bastard pulled one over on us, made us jump through hoops, made me think he was across the country stalking my son.”

“Yeah, how about that?” Austin Mann asked.

Vail opened her eyes. “Smart guy. And out to show us just how smart he is, how superior he is, by tricking us—tricking me into thinking he was after my son. He knew that’d get a visceral, no-holds-barred response.”

“But there’d be no way for him to know you’d actually fallen for it.”

“What mother wouldn’t? Who could take the chance? Of course I fell for it. He knew. He’s a goddamn smart one. Organized.” The beginnings of a profile were taking shape. “This guy will have a higher
education. He owns a more expensive car, like a high-end Toyota or some other foreign make. He works in a job that doesn’t recognize his true worth, and this frustrates him. He has to show us how intelligent he is to compensate for his failings in the real world.”

Burt Gordon cleared his throat. “Doesn’t help us much. We know the kind of person we may be looking for, but who is he? There can be hundreds of people who fit those parameters.”

“Once we start getting a suspect pool, we can narrow it down using these guidelines.”

Gordon gave a slight laugh, then looked to Aaron. “Any ID on the vic?”

“Nothing. No wallet, credit cards, license. I’ll get you something as soon as I can run her prints, dental impressions—you know the deal.”

“Knife under her lower back?”

Aaron inched closer, directed his flashlight at the body, and examined the area. “Can’t tell. And I’m not sticking my hand underneath to find out. We’ll know when it’s time to move the body.”

Vail’s phone vibrated. She plucked it from its holster, glanced at the display, and lifted it to her face. “Vail.”

“It’s Bledsoe.”

She reminded herself to enter in her contacts—not having caller ID configured for her phone numbers was a pain in the ass.

“Good news. We just found a fresh vic.”
Did I just say that? Shit, I really need some sleep.

“How is that good news?”

Vail rolled her head back, then side to side. “It’s not, it’s not. I just meant, if we found another vic in Napa—”

“How can that be, if the fucker’s here, two thousand miles away?”

“Exactly. That seems to be the question of the day. Until we know for sure, we’re assuming he’s here in Napa, that his text last night was a ruse just to screw with our heads.”

“Between you and me, it worked.”

“I know it worked, Bledsoe. Thanks for pointing out the goddamn obvious.” She noticed Dixon giving her a look. Vail turned away and walked off a few paces. “Sorry. I haven’t had a whole lot of sleep.”

“Takes a lot to piss me off, you know that.”

“Now there’s a quality I could use some of myself. Listen, can you put Jonathan on the phone?”

“I would if I was still there. I left the school a while ago. Everything was clean. My guy’s on him. Trevor Greenwich. Give him a buzz.”

“It’s just—I just need to hear Jonathan’s voice.”

“No need to explain. Take care of yourself. Get some sleep. And call me if you need anything else, especially if your killer really is in my backyard.”

“Count on it.”

Bledsoe gave Vail the cop’s cell and she immediately dialed through. As it was ringing, she realized she knew this officer. She’d had a run-in with the guy a couple of months ago. Not that it was his fault; he was just doing his job—but she was not in the mood to take any shit from the guy. When he answered, she identified herself—waiting for some sign of recognition—but got nothing. She plowed forward, not allowing too much room for him to comment, and asked him to pull Jonathan out of class for a moment. Greenwich didn’t argue, nor did he question her as to why. Jonathan was on the line seconds later.

“Mom?”

“Hey, how are you?”

“Fine. What’s the deal with the cop?”

“He’s there to protect you. And please be polite. He’s there as a favor, okay?”

“A favor for what? Everything’s fine.”

“It’s not something I want to get into. I’ll tell you when I get home. But for now, it’s important you let the officer hang around close by. Okay?”

“Is this a big deal?”

“I hope not. I’ll let you know if anything changes. And call me if you have any concerns, if anything doesn’t feel right. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“I love you.”

“You too.”

Vail put away her phone and joined Dixon at the crime scene boundary.

“Everything okay?”

“I just needed to hear my son’s voice.” She turned to Dixon. “You have kids?”

“Me?” She laughed. “No. I’d like to, I think. But first I have to meet someone. I’m not into the single parent thing. Certainly not being a cop. You divorced?”

Vail took a moment before answering. “That’s a long story I’d rather not get into right now. Better on a day when I’m awake and not dealing with a major case. Let’s just say I
am
doing ‘the single parent thing,’ though that wasn’t the plan. It just sort of . . . happened. And given how things turned out, it was probably for the best. Jonathan’s father ended up being a bit more than I bargained for.”

“It’s nice, I think, having children. Watching them grow up, become people, have families of their own. And when you get old, you’ve got family around.”

Vail couldn’t help but look down at the corpse laid out in front of them. It seemed wrong to be having such a conversation in its presence. She turned and headed away. Dixon followed. “That sums it up,” Vail said. “But that’s only part of the deal. Lots of challenges along the way. Makes life interesting, to say the least.”

“Is Jonathan your only child?”

Vail nodded. “Fourteen and full of angst. Overall, he’s a good kid. But I’ll be glad when he gets past the teen attitude.”

Brix came up behind them. “Just got a call. Tim Nance is at the sheriff’s department.”

Vail sighed, long and slow. “This is going to be fun.”

Brix rubbed at his forehead. “Yeah. Not so much.”

V
ail had slipped on the shoes Robby had bought for her—they fit well, felt like tennis shoes, and were a welcome relief. She joined Dixon and they entered the sheriff’s department facility. They were immediately met by Stan Owens, who was already having a less-than-friendly chat with Redmond Brix. As they approached, Vail’s phone rang.

It was Gifford. He must have thought Vail had already programmed her new phone, or that she would recognize his voice, because he didn’t bother identifying himself. “I guess this shouldn’t surprise me, but you’ve dug yourself a new hole.”

“Which hole are you referring to, sir?”

Gifford hesitated just a moment. “There’s more than one?”

Vail smiled. She didn’t mean to push his buttons. But it was, she had to admit, a bit of a kick.

“You know what?” he said. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I just got a call from the assistant director, who got a call from the director, who got a call from Congressman Church. Do you know who Congressman Church is?”

Shit
. The conversation she just witnessed between Sheriff Owens and Brix was now coming into focus.

“I know
of
him. He represents Napa, as well as—”

“The correct answer is that Congressman Church is the man who’s making my life miserable. And that means that he also happens to be the man who’s now making your life miserable. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“I’m beginning to get the picture.”

“So what can you tell me about Church’s district director, Timothy Nance?”

My chance to douse this fire before it rages.
“I believe Nance was involved in the plot to kill me, sir. We got a confession from one of his friends who stated that he and Scott Fuller and—”

“Fuller’s the dead LEO who was found a few feet from your body while you were . . . sleeping?”

Obviously, he’s already been briefed.
“I wasn’t sleeping, sir. I was drugged. Someone—I believe it was the Crush Killer—came up from behind and injected me, then shot Fuller. Probably with my handgun.”

There was a moment of silence. “And when did you think it was appropriate to inform me of this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but I’ve been a little busy.”

“We’ll address that when you return. Meantime, I need to deal with this Nance issue.”

Vail turned and saw Brix, Owens, and Dixon staring at her from down the hall. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be good. She swung back around. “With all due respect, there’s no issue for you to deal with. Nance is a suspect in an attempted murder investigation. He was implicated by his purported accomplice. If he does the smart thing, he’ll lawyer up and everything will be put into the court system here in California, where it’ll be harder for congressmen and assistant directors and directors to influence the outcome of a properly conducted trial in front of a jury of the asshole’s peers.”

“Jesus Christ, Karen. You’re shortening my life, you know that? Shaving away precious years.”

“Not to sound unfeeling, but I’m the one who was nearly burned like a french fry. Talk about cutting one’s life short. So let’s keep things in perspective.”

“How close are you to catching this Crush Killer?”

Vail sighed deeply. She needed some caffeine. And a vacation.
Oh yeah, this
was
my vacation.
“Not as close as I wish we were.”

“I think your time in Napa is coming to a close. I want you to wrap things up and catch a flight out tomorrow night. I’ll have Lenka email you the confirmation number for your flight.”

“I can’t just leave. We—”

“Karen, you’re not doing anyone any good. For some reason, the killer seems to be playing off you. We remove you from the equation, maybe things will quiet down. I’ll ask the San Ramon RA to send over an agent to monitor the situation and act as liaison.”

“Karen, you hear me?”

“I—yes, I hear you.”

“Good. Now you leave Timothy Nance alone and keep your ears clean till your flight leaves.” And he hung up.

Vail stood there, her cell still pressed against her ear, eyes closed, drained of emotion and energy and, well, numb. She lowered her arm, put her phone away, and turned to walk down the hall.

“Everything okay?”

Dixon’s voice. Vail looked up, saw Dixon, Brix, and Owens staring at her.

“Yeah, I just—I could use some coffee. Since sleep isn’t coming any time soon, I need caffeine.” She nodded down the corridor. “Are we going to meet with Nance?”

Brix shook his head. “He’s going to lawyer up as soon as we start questioning him.”

Vail nodded. “The congressman has already used some juice, trying to get us to back off.”

“That’s pretty strong juice,” Owens said.

Vail folded her arms across her chest. “Damage control, is all it is. If his district director is dirty, Church is dirty by association. This is a man who has designs on running for governor. Any kind of association with an attempted murder could cause serious problems for those ambitions.”

Owens was shaking his head. “We should let this lie low. We’ve got Walton Silva. Maybe that’s enough for now.”

“If Nance was a conspirator in trying to kill you, would nailing only one of them be enough? Because that’s what happened here, Sheriff. Nance and Silva and, yes, your stepson, tried to fry me alive.”

Owens shaded red, then stepped forward. “I’ve had just about enough of you!”

Dixon and Brix moved together, cutting off Owens’s path toward Vail, who had staggered back.

Owens extended an arm through the blockade and pointed at Vail. “Their only crime was that they didn’t succeed.”

Vail recovered and stepped forward herself, daring Owens to come at her again. “You want to clear Scott’s name, Sheriff? Question Nance, see what he says. Maybe Silva’s lying. Maybe Scott had nothing to do with it.” She desperately wanted to face Nance, see what he gave up. And better the order come from Owens, which would insulate her.