Crush

roadway. A silver Ford sat parked parallel to the path in one of the available slots.

“Wanna walk?” Robby asked. “We don’t know where Brix is on the property, might as well explore.” He slid the Murano into the spot in front of the Ford and they hiked along the asphalt toward the house, which sat thirty yards ahead.

“Gorgeous property,” Vail said. Exquisitely maintained vineyards, arranged in precise rows, lined the land to the north and south. “My feeling is that if we go to the front door, good chance they’ll tell us to go home.”

“But if we wander around, we’re just a couple of bumbling idiots looking for Brix.”

“Exactly.”

The house was a gray, four-story, stone-faced structure with mature palms fanning out from either side of the entrance. A six-car garage sat to the left of the main building, attached by a covered walkway with vine-covered columns. Vail and Robby hung a left by the palms and moved down a graveled path for about fifty paces.

They stopped and surveyed the landscape. Ahead of them lay closely cropped grass-covered rolling hills, with a sharp drop-off slightly to their right. Robby pointed in the direction he felt they should proceed, and they made their way down the sharp grade, moving sideways to control their descent.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Knee’s a little sore, but no problem.”

The land flattened out, and further right, behind the house now and a hundred yards away, was a group of nine men holding shovels, perched beside a rectangular thirty-foot hole in the ground. A conical mound of overturned dirt sat along the far edge of the pit. A large, covered, blue-and-white wheeled cooler reclined at an angle on a secondary pile of dry soil.

As Robby and Vail neared, Vail made out Redmond Brix, beer in one hand and the handle of a shovel in the other, the tip stuck into the grass.

“Can I help you?” asked a man in a security uniform standing beside Brix, a two-way fastened to his belt. “This is private property.”

“Front gate was open.”

Brix turned. His face drooped as he caught sight of Vail. He frowned, then motioned to a man in jeans, leather gloves, and designer sunglasses. “This is one of my closest friends, Al Toland. He owns this property. Al, this is FBI Agent Vail and Detective Hernandez, from Virginia.” Brix introduced the rest of the men, other friends and hired workers, who dipped their chins and tipped their hats in acknowledgment.

One of them had a high-end digital SLR camera around his neck, Nikon D700 embroidered into the strap.

“Good to meet all of you,” Robby said. “Sorry to intrude.”

“Goddamn right,” Brix said. “It’s my day off. Can’t a guy get a break?”

“Hey, this is our vacation,” Vail said.

Brix cocked his head. “No one’s asking you to keep sticking your nose in places you don’t belong.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Robby said.

Vail threw him a look.

“Javi,” Toland said to the uniformed security guard, “go shut the front gate, please.”

The security guard immediately headed off in the direction from which Vail and Robby had come. Brix stuck his shovel deeper into the dirt and trudged toward them, then motioned them to an area a few yards from the other men.

Vail faced Brix and said, “Look, we’re just trying to help, that’s it. If there’s some information we can offer to help catch the guy who filleted that woman, then we’ve done our job.”

“Your job? You have no job here. Do us all a favor, Agent Vail, go and visit some wineries, enjoy your time in the wine country with Detective Hernandez. Once you get home, it’s back to the grind.”

Vail couldn’t help but think that this could’ve been Robby uttering those same words. And in another sense, Brix was right. What the hell was she doing here? She was on vacation. She should’ve been enjoying the beauty of the Napa Valley, tasting some of the world’s best wine, decompressing, letting her knee heal. That was the plan. But some killer with a sharp knife had shredded those plans.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with here, Lieutenant. If this guy has killed before, and I think that’s very likely, this is something you don’t want to fool around with. You need to get out in front of it now, before it’s too late. Ask Sheriff Owens. He’s been through the FBI’s National Academy program. He’s been exposed to this type of killer.”

“Then I’ll know who to ask if we find another body.”

“The woman from Silver Ridge Estates had a missing toenail. Second digit, forcibly removed.”

“Yeah, I heard all about it. Stan called me. You were at the morgue. Those are some balls you got there, Agent Vail. You sure know how to endear yourself with the locals.”

“We’ve offered our help, but you haven’t exactly been open to what we have to offer.”

“We’re not small-town cops. We can do our job just fine without the FBI’s help. Thanks for your concern.” He took a quick pull from his beer, then pointed the mouth of the bottle to a spot behind them. “Why don’t you two run along now and have a nice day.” He turned away, then walked back to his shovel and pulled it from the ground. “Let’s get back to it, guys, we’re losing light.”

Vail sucked on her lip but didn’t move.

“Come on, Karen,” Robby said, gently taking her hand and leading her away.

“WE’VE DONE EVERYTHING WE CAN,” Robby said, as they hiked past the six-car garage, headed toward the Murano.

“He doesn’t know what he’s dealing with. And that means more women are going to be killed because he can’t put his ego aside.”

“Sheriff Owens understands. Let him do his thing, maybe he can talk Brix into asking the BAU for help.”

Vail sighed. “Fine. We’ve done everything we can, right?”

“Right.”

She squeezed his hand. “So there’s nothing left for us to do but enjoy our time together.”

“Right again.”

As they neared their car, the gate at the end of the road was closed. And Javi was by the guard shack reaching for his two-way.

“Gate is closed, yes sir.”

“Don’t let anyone in,” the filtered voice of Redmond Brix said. “We’ve found a body buried down here. At least, part of a body. I’m gonna call in CSI. His name’s Matthew Aaron. Let him through when he gets here.”

“Roger,” Javi said. “Uh, that FBI agent and detective are here. You want me to send them back?”

There was a long silence. Robby and Vail exchanged a glance.

Robby was holding Vail’s hand tightly; she was sure he was keeping her from turning around and running back to where they’d come from.

“Send them back,” Brix’s filtered voice finally said.

Vail detected a note of dejection in his tone. But it didn’t matter. She was already en route.

TEN

When they arrived, the men were ringing the large pit, kneeling and staring at something at the far end. Brix was blocking their view, but judging from his body language, he was not pleased. He was on one knee and his head was bowed. The guy with the camera was snapping away, his flash bursting like lightning in a night sky.

As Vail moved closer to the hole’s boundary, two of the men stood and moved out of her way. That’s when she saw it: Two dirt-crusted feet were protruding from the edge of the opening, the flesh partially decomposed.

“Hey,” Vail said to the man with the Nikon. “What are you doing? Why are you taking pictures?”

“I’m with the Napa Valley Press. I was covering the excavation of the cave. It’s historic. I didn’t think we’d find a—a dead body.”

Yeah, dipshit. I’m sure no one here expected that. Vail thought of telling him to shove his lens where the light doesn’t shine, but then figured the photos could be useful to their investigation.