Huston cocked her head to the side. “I think that’s a good idea. I’m already getting pressure from on high to get this case solved as quickly as possible. If you think that Private Match can help us attain that goal, then I’m all for it. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
“Thank you. That’s going to be a help.”
“Get some sleep, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”
Huston shook Taylor’s hand, then opened the door and disappeared. Taylor took her hair out of its ponytail and ran her fingers through it, combing it out. Huston was easy to work with, though much more formal than she was used to. Regardless, she was a woman who knew how to get things done, and that’s exactly what Taylor needed right now.
One problem solved. She didn’t have time to get meditative about Brittany Carson. She had to admit, she’d been hoping the girl would pull through. And she really didn’t feel like sitting down with the department shrink.
Marcus came to her door, knocked softly on the doorjamb.
“Yeah,” she said.
“We’ve got a name on the man who appeared in the crime-scene footage. We’ve sent a patrol to pick him up. With any luck we’ll have him here by 11:00 or so.”
“Why so long?”
“He lives north of town-it’s transport time.”
“What’s his name?”
“Keith Barent Johnson.”
“Okay. What’s so special about Mr. Johnson that we were able to identify him so quickly?”
“You don’t recognize the name?”
“No. Should I?”
Marcus smiled. “He was in the system, so I checked him out. He was arrested last year after making threats against the president. Ended up getting busted for tax evasion.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember him. He’s a kook.”
“Yep. A kook who’s all over the Internet calling himself the king of the vampires.”
That got her attention. “You’re kidding.”
“I kid you not. Lincoln needs to see you, if you have a minute.”
“I have just a minute. I need to get to Hillsboro. Will you look over the security tapes from The Tennessean for me, see if you can see anyone slipping a letter through the back doors?”
“The letter from the killer?”
“Yeah. Keep it quiet. I want to hold as much of it back as possible.” She briefed him, then said, “McKenzie’s researching all the symbols right now. Hey, listen. What happened to our kid from last night, the one Simari’s dog took a chunk out of?”
“He’s still in the hospital. The bite hit into the muscle in his leg. He’s going to have surgery this afternoon, then some recovery time.”
“Good. I want to talk to him again.”
Lincoln joined them, dreads standing on end. He looked rough. They all did-no one had gotten any sleep last night. They were all wearing yesterday’s clothes, running off of caffeine and adrenaline.
“The video company is working with us, but it doesn’t seem to matter,” he said simply, sinking into the chair closest to the door. He ran a weary hand across his dreadlocks, getting them into a bit of order.
“What do you mean? They won’t take the video down?”
“No, they complied immediately. It breaks their community guidelines. YouTube took the video down after it got flagged by several viewers as obscene. But it’s gone viral. People have downloaded it to their own computers and are uploading it to other video-sharing sites. They all have a version running-Vimeo, Vuze, MSN, Yahoo!-and everyone’s trying to work with us, but it’s growing too quickly. At last count ten video sharing sites on the Internet have it. Some have cut the end, where Brandon Scott is murdered, some have it intact. We can’t keep up, though I’ve been doing my best. Word on the street is this is the work of an underground film crew. Some of the Hollywood wannabes apparently do high-quality independent work, especially in the horror genre. The message board and comments are lit up like Christmas trees, debating whether it’s real or just incredibly excellent editing. And people are e-mailing it around, too.”
“Son of a bitch. It’s like a bloody hydra. Get on the horn to Judge Botelli, and call A.D.A. Julia Page. See if there’s anything legal that can be done. And make sure YouTube releases the information about how and where the original upload is from. That’s evidence, and I’ll be damned if I let their free speech issues get in the way of an eventual conviction.”
“Not going to be a problem, they’re working on it. Whoever posted it was pretty sophisticated, was able to reroute through several servers to cover his tracks. They’ll get back to me as soon as they nail it down.”
“Has the news picked it up?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck!” she said, slamming her palm onto her desk.
Eyes blurred with fatigue, Lincoln managed a grimace. “That’s pretty much my sentiment, too.”
Taylor texted McKenzie as she left the CJC to let him know she could pick him up at the entrance to the library in five minutes. As she exited the building, Sam called.
“We swabbed the wounds of all the victims. I’m certain the cause of death was a drug overdose, so I’m sending the blood work in for more comprehensive toxicology. I talked to Vanderbilt. Brittany Carson’s blood showed high concentrations of methylphenidate, methylmorphine, paramethoxyamphetamine, methylenedioxymethamphetamine and diazepam. Lethal levels. I assume that’s what we’re dealing with here, too.”
“English, Sam?”
“Sorry. Just what the early tox screens indicated-Ritalin, codeine, PMA and MDMA, that’s the stuff in Ecstasy and Valium.”
“From the laced Ecstasy? Jesus. Someone took a great deal of time to get the right chemical compound together and disguise it in the tabs of X. When will the posts be done?”
“Not until this afternoon. I just wanted you to know that we’re on the possible DNA. It’s going to take time, though.”
“Reroute everything to Private Match. I’ve already gotten permission for them to run the extra toxicology screens and the DNA. Tell them to put a rush on it, okay?”
“Will do. Everything okay over there? I heard that there’s a video of the murders floating around.”
Taylor got in the car and snapped on her safety belt. “There is, though the Internet companies are working to get it taken down. It’s gone viral, and it’s everywhere. Thankfully, some people think it’s a horror movie, but the truth will be out soon enough.”
“I’ll keep working on everything. You hang in there.”
There was a note of kindness in Sam’s tone that had been missing for the past few weeks, and Taylor felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes. She missed Sam badly.
“I’ll do my best. Thanks for handling the posts so quickly. Is there anything else I need to know?” she asked.
“No. But if I get something new, I’ll call.”
“Good. Talk to you later.” She slid the phone into her front pocket and picked McKenzie up at the library steps. He got in the car with a wide grin on his face.
“Hey, before I forget, you need to see the shrink today at some point. Huston’s orders.”
“Oh, Victoria? I mean, Dr. Willig.”
“You know her?”
“Sure. She’s great. I’ve talked to her from time to time, about…things. You know.”
Taylor did know. McKenzie had lost his fiancee to suicide, and bore the weight of it on his shoulders. He would always feel responsible, because his sexual preference dictated that he had to break their engagement and the girl couldn’t handle the news. He’d come from Orlando to Nashville last year to get away from the trauma of it all. Taylor knew she was one of two people who knew the whole story-the other being McKenzie’s partner, Hugh Bangor. They’d met on a case and were quite close.
