Could she do that? The other thing about love, she’d quickly learned, was that you had to think about the other person first, then think about yourself and your own desires. Every bone in her body screamed to get in the car and drive, to get to that campsite, to see what was happening, to make sure they were doing everything right. But Baldwin had a point. The Pretender was trying to draw her out, to get her off balance. She would be no use to Fitz if she were captured or dead.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay. I’ll stay here.”
“Thank you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “You know I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. You’re my own heart, Taylor.”
There was a puddle of water forming at the base of the driveway. A cheap penny saver, delivered to the wrong house by accident, floated in its plastic bag. She drove over it, out of the drive, up the street, wipers on, lights on. Mind completely and utterly off.
Poor Fitz. Being used as a tool in this ridiculous game. Knowing she’d caused him to suffer was overwhelming, and she realized that’s exactly what the Pretender had in mind. The suffering of those she loved was to be her penance until he was ready to face her.
She picked McKenzie up from his house, grateful that he could recognize she had her mind on things. He stayed silent until she finally spoke.
“Where are we on the case?”
He flipped open his notebook. “I think we’re very close. We’ve got all the players. Juri Edvin will be booked for the murder of Brittany Carson. His girlfriend, Susan Norwood, is cognizant of his actions-she was trying to help him run away. We get a confession out of him today about the other seven kills and we can wrap this all up.”
“I still think there’s something else going on.”
“Like what?”
“This is all too sophisticated for a teenage boy to pull off. I think we should look harder at our vampire and our witch. Marcus applied for a warrant to the vampire’s house. I want to see what he had stashed there.”
“Ariadne’s not involved,” McKenzie said, a note of finality in his voice.
“How can you know that? She’s completely out there. How do you know she isn’t leading us down the primrose path?”
“A gut feeling about her, that’s all. I did a little research into her last night while you were at Vanderbilt. She has no history of interjecting herself into cases. She was a very powerful political figure in the Wicca movement, a high priestess who doubled as a judge on a disciplinary committee. But she dropped out several years ago, citing personal conflicts with the direction of the religion.”
“Then she may have a grudge.”
“I don’t think so. I think she’s telling the truth.”
“You think she can read minds and conjure energy?”
“I don’t know about that. I think she believes she can help, though. Just do me a favor and listen to what she has to say. I asked her to come in later this morning.”
Taylor parked the car, and they crossed the street together. As she swiped her key card in the back door, she turned to him.
“Okay. I trust you.”
A small smile gleamed on his face, but he didn’t say a word.
Paula Simari was sitting in the Homicide office, chatting with Marcus Wade when Taylor and McKenzie walked in. She was on a roll, gesticulating wildly to make her point.
“You can always judge a man by how he treats his dog, Wade. All you have to do is watch. Does he jerk its head to keep it in line? Does he yank a little too hard when he’s training, or is it justified? Dogs like to work, you know. They like to have a purpose, a job. Max knows what his job is, and he’s happiest when he’s working. But I’ll be damned if I’ll yank his head like that.”
“Morning, you two,” Taylor said. “What’s up?”
Simari turned with a grimace, deep black circles under her eyes. “Animal cruelty case rolled in overnight-I got stuck with it. I hate these bastards who chain their dogs and claim it’s good for their character. Asshole was training his Rottweiler, yanked a slip chain around the dog’s neck so hard that his neck broke. Didn’t kill him, the poor thing, we had to put him down after we got there. I’d like to put his owner down, I’ll tell you that much.”
“God, Simari, sorry. That’s awful.”
“Yes, well. It’s not your problem. I actually came to tag along on your warrant. Wade requested Max and I ride along.”
“Are you up for it? You’ve been on shift all night?”
“I am. It’s all good. We’ll rest after.”
“So Marcus, we have the warrant?” Taylor asked.
“Signed, sealed and delivered. Mr. Johnson was the guest of the county last night.”
“What about Susan Norwood, the girl who calls herself Ember?”
“Released into her parents’ custody at midnight.”
Taylor slammed her hand against the desk. “Shit. I wanted her held. What happened?”
Marcus shook his head. “Nothing to charge her with. Sneaking into a boy’s hospital room wasn’t enough. Miles Rose, slippery bastard, talked her right out of the cuffs.”
Taylor chewed on her lip for a moment. “I want an officer on her at all times. She’s involved in this.”
Marcus waved his hand at a pile of papers, what she assumed were the guardian orders. “Already done. Juri Edvin passed an uneventful night at Vandy. They think he’ll be ready to be released into custody tomorrow. Lincoln’s in, he’s still working with the video-sharing sites.”
“Excellent. Thanks for running all that down for me. McKenzie, what time is Ariadne supposed to be here?”
“The escort is supposed to bring her back at 10:00 a.m.”
“Then let’s get moving. Simari, Marcus, you’re with us.”
They left a few minutes later. Taylor drove, McKenzie rode next to her. Marcus was in the backseat, working his phone. Simari followed in her patrol car, Max sticking his nose out the open window, a channel of crisp, fresh air running straight up his black nostrils.
Rush hour was ending, but the streets were still congested with latecomers and two fender-benders. The ride up to Joelton would normally take thirty minutes; they’d already been gone an hour and Taylor was getting frachetty. She hated traffic.
Lincoln called just as they took the exit off the highway. Marcus spent a few minutes listening, then slapped his phone shut.
“Good news,” Marcus said “One of the video sharing sites found a match to the address. They’re tracking it down now.”
Taylor looked in the rearview at him. “What do you mean, a match to the address?”
“Remember Lincoln said yesterday that there was a ghost in the IP address that showed him the uploads were being rerouted? There were multiple IP addresses for the uploads, but he’s found a pattern.”
“Honestly, no. That one slipped by me.”
“Well, there’ve been other videos posted by the person who posted the original video. They’re tracking the IP addresses now. They think they’ll have something concrete by noon.”
“Big Brother is watching,” McKenzie said wryly.
The morning had become glaring and hot. Taylor slipped on her sunglasses. She looked back at Marcus again, amused by the excessive floppiness of his brown hair this morning. The kid hadn’t slept much, looked like when he did, it was face-first. “Well, thank goodness for Big Brother in this case, because it may be our only credible lead. Nothing showed up on Juri Edvin’s or Susan Norwood’s computers, I take it?”
“Susan’s hasn’t been looked at-her parents are being a bit difficult. But the Edvins were quite forthcoming, dropped Juri’s laptop off with Lincoln late last night. He didn’t find any links, but he’s still looking. The kid was into all kinds of crazy stuff though. His history reads like a who’s who of creeps and illegal stuff-some bondage footage, a guide to bomb making, cyanide poisoning, neck breaking. He’s studying violence, and violent means of death. He fits the profile we have to a T.”
