“No,” Vail said. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Shame.”
“You know what,” Vail said, advancing on him, before Dixon grabbed her arm with an iron grip.
“Let it go,” Dixon said. “We’ve got more important things to deal with.”
Vail shook off Dixon’s hand, then spun and headed past Brix, out of the garage.
Vail leaned her back against the Ford’s door and faced the house.
That’s when she saw it.
A leather jacket. She pushed off the car and walked forward, eyes focused on the coat. It hung on a hook on the wall behind the Audi, innocently draped across a wood hanger. She stopped in front of it and stared at it. A shiver ran the length of her spine.
“Roxx,” she called out, unevenly. “I may’ve just found Robby’s jacket.”
18
Dixon and Matt Aaron joined Vail a moment later.
“This?” Aaron asked, nodding at the lone coat hanging from the hook.
“No,” Vail said, “the
Aaron set his jaw and gave Vail an icy stare. The two had established a relationship as smooth as grit- studded sandpaper, and it was apparently destined to remain that way.
Aaron broke the standoff by retrieving his fingerprint kit, then applying dust.
“Full workup,” Dixon said. “DNA, too. We’ve got a sample of Detective Hernandez’s DNA en route.” She waited a second for Aaron to reply, got nothing, and continued. “Give me a buzz as soon as you know something. Most important thing is, does this jacket belong to him, or not?”
Aaron dropped his hands to his sides and turned to Dixon. “I’m plugged into what’s going on, Ms. Dixon.” He moved his fingerprint brush back to the jacket. “You can go. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“You got a TOD on the Hall of Justice vic?”
Without looking at Dixon, he said, “Prelim estimate is approximately 1:00 PM. Give or take an hour.”
Dixon turned away from Aaron. “If she was dropped there, that means she was killed before he arrived at the Hall of Justice complex, right?”
Vail folded her arms across her chest. “Right.”
“So let’s say she was there for what, ten minutes before someone saw her and reported it? Fifteen?”
“Okay, sure.”
“That means if we’re thinking she was killed between noon and 1:00, and we discovered her at 1:20, she was probably killed about thirty minutes from downtown Napa.”
Vail nodded slowly. “You’re establishing the radius of the UNSUB’s kill zone.”
Dixon shrugged. “Makes sense. We could map it out and see if we can focus our efforts. But give or take thirty minutes in any direction is a lot of real estate.”
“Not as much as not having the radius.”
“True,” Dixon said.
Brix burst through the door leading into the garage from the house, holding up his cell phone. “Roxx—TTB came through. We got a twenty on Herndon Vineyards.”
19
The needle on Dixon’s speedometer zipped past 65—in a 50 zone. After Vail had stuck the light cube atop the car, they were silent, intent on what they might find—and what they would ask if, and when, they found James Cannon.
Leaving Owens at Mayfield’s house, Brix was following behind them in his own vehicle. As they zigged around slower-moving tourists, Dixon took a call from Gordon and Mann. NSIB had secured Cannon’s current home address—and four investigators were en route to meet Gordon and Mann as backup.
Before they hit the frenzy of their pending arrival at Herndon, Vail’s thoughts turned to what they had found at Mayfield’s place. “The jacket. Robby bought it a few days ago.”
Dixon slowed behind a limousine. “You sure it’s his?”
Vail worked it through her mind. Closed her eyes and tried to remember him walking into Bistro Jeanty, the restaurant where they’d eaten only a couple nights ago. “Yes.” She shook her head. “No.” She sighed. “He bought a jacket just like it when he went to the outlets to buy us new clothing after the fire. I only really saw it once. And Robby and Mayfield could be about the same size.” She bent her head forward and massaged her temples. “I don’t know.”
“Hopefully Aaron will be—”
Vail snapped her fingers and sat up straight. “Wait a minute. That funky water bottle. The one in the garage. The Platypus. I’d seen it recently but couldn’t remember where.” She turned to Dixon. “At the gym. Fit1. Cannon had it when we were there working out. What’s it doing in Mayfield’s garage?”
Dixon zipped around the limousine and moved back into her lane. “They’re big and hold a lot of water. Mayfield and Cannon were friends, they worked out together, maybe they both had one.”
“But Mayfield
“Whoa. No offense, Karen, but you’re grasping—”
“At straws. Yeah. I’m scooping up the whole pile. I’m desperate.”
“I think we’re close to getting some answers. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Vail started bouncing her knee. “A few minutes” wasn’t soon enough.
20
Herndon Vineyards was located in the hills above St. Helena, in the Spring Mountain district. Tucked away off a winding, ascending road that rose two thousand feet above the valley floor, the area was known for its rich volcanic soils that made it particularly favorable for producing exceptional Cabernet Sauvignon.
Dixon stopped the car a dozen feet before a metal security gate fitted with an electronic keypad-speaker device. Brix pulled in behind them. He raised them on the radio.
“I don’t think a straightforward approach would be a good idea,” Brix said.
“Agreed,” Dixon said. “Let’s go in as inspectors with TTB, to do a routine check of the facility. You should take the lead. If Cannon’s in there, he’s seen us; he knows who we are.”
“Copy that. Pull back.”
Dixon moved her car aside and parked; then she and Vail got into Brix’s Crown Victoria. Brix maneuvered beside the intercom and pressed the button, then explained the purpose of the visit. There was some hesitation, followed by a “Let me check” comment.
“And we’ll need to speak briefly with your wine maker. Is he in?”
Another pause. Then, “Yes. He’s here today.” The metal gate swung inward.
“You want me to go in, scout the place, feel out the owners?” Brix asked as he drove down the eucalyptus tree-lined, hard-packed gravel road that curved gently up a steady incline. Young, well-tended grapevines rose and fell on the rolling land.
“No,” Vail said without hesitation. “We go in strong. Roxx and I know what the guy looks like. I say one of us hangs back. That should be you, Roxx, since you’re the most mobile of the two of us. Brix, you should fast-badge them and ask a lot of wine-related questions TTB inspectors might ask, to keep them off balance. I’ll stay right outside until I can be sure Cannon’s not there—or until you’ve engaged him.”
