Crush

“I like that Class A foam shit,” Robby said. “That chemical marker stuff was brilliant.”

Brix laughed. “That rapid screen DNA was even better. Where did you get that?”

“That was good, wasn’t it?” Vail said. “We thought of it right before we went in.”

“Good work, Roxxi,” Brix said. He sighed, rubbed his forehead. “So now we go pick up Nance, hopefully get his confession and wrap this thing up.”

Vail turned to the monitor and watched Silva put down the pen. “I’ll be right back.” She headed into the interview room, glanced at the pad, and asked Silva to sign the bottom. After he scrawled his name and handed Vail the pad, he said, “Can I go now?”

“Absolutely. We’ve got a car and driver waiting outside for you.” She extended a hand and Silva took it. “Thanks for your cooperation. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Karen Vail. Special Agent Karen Vail. FBI.”

Silva’s hand went limp. “You—”

“Yeah, that’s me. And yes, I’m fucking pissed.” She forced a smile. “But it’s been great meeting you, Walton. Have a pleasant stay in lockup.”

Vail walked out and joined Robby in the conference room.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

She looked over at the monitor, where Walton sat, grasping his hair with both hands.

Before Vail could respond, her BlackBerry buzzed. As she pulled it from her belt, Brix’s and Dixon’s phones chimed. She glanced at the display. A text message.

And another body.

THIRTY-ONE

Walton Silva kept bemoaning that the sun had not yet risen when he was roused from bed. The task force members couldn’t have made that complaint because, as they gathered around the fresh crime scene, the sky was brightening in the east, silhouetting the vineyard-tipped hills against pale yellow hues.

As Vail and Robby huffed up the steep rise, something that had been bothering Vail on the ride over continued clawing at her thoughts—but her brain function was fuzzy with sleep deprivation, and it took a while to fight through the fog.

“If this is the work of our Crush Killer, he can’t be in Virginia,” Vail said to Robby.

“That’s a big ‘if.’ Let’s first see what we’ve got, then we can draw some conclusions.”

Vail looked over at Robby in the rising brightness. “That’s something I would say, with some food in my stomach and sleep under my belt. You’re absolutely right.” She grabbed a peek at her watch, then said, “There’s no reason for you to be here. You can go grab some shut-eye.”

“As soon as we get a look at the body, figure out whether or not this is the same asshole, I’ll take off, let Bledsoe know what’s going down, and hit the sack.”

“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.”