Forty-Two
T aylor took the struggling girl to the Criminal Justice Center, read her Miranda warning, snapped a Polaroid of her and threw her into an interrogation room. Ariadne had identified Fane instantaneously when the six-pack was put together.
Taylor tried to look at the bright side of things. They had a positive ID on two women, a drug dealer with a chunk out of his leg and a missing teenage boy, possibly the mastermind behind the whole shebang. The Specialized Investigative Unit had confirmed that Barent Johnson was making methamphetamine and Ecstasy, so they had their drugs covered. How they all fit together-that was something she was still working on.
Ariadne insisted that Juri Edvin was not the boy she’d seen at Subversion. Her drawing of Fane Atilio was right on the money, both with and without the makeup. So maybe she was right about this mysterious fourth.
Regardless, Fane Atilio was not cooperating. It was getting close to dusk, the day bleeding away. Taylor was hungry and getting frustrated.
She took a deep breath, tried again.
“Fane. Where are your parents?”
Nothing.
“Fane, where were you on Halloween?”
Blank, soulless stares that never met Taylor’s eyes. Nothing.
“Fane, your boyfriend. What’s his name?”
They continued in this vein for a good thirty minutes before Taylor finally got huffy, stood and left the room.
McKenzie was in the video-feed room, watching.
“Stubborn brat,” Taylor said.
“She is at that. But a true believer. Want me to have a go at her?”
“Sure. Why not. I’m getting nothing. She’s giving me the creeps, really. How do these girls get so much attitude?”
“You didn’t have attitude when you were fifteen?”
“All in a good way-not like this,” she said, but blushed. He was right, she’d been just as sullen and noncooperative when she’d gotten picked up for underage drinking when she was thirteen. She wasn’t the one doing the drinking at the time, it was the friends she was with. The patrol officer who arrested her friends believed her. That cop had been Fitz, and he’d let her off with a warning. He’d treated her with respect, actually listened to her when she said she wasn’t involved. She’d been struck by the fairness of his actions, and it had started her thinking. The next thing she knew, she was obsessed with becoming a cop, with being fair and just. She’d not seen such actions before, and she liked it.
“You okay?” he asked.
She dragged herself back to the present, forcing the vision of Fitz’s eye sitting on a table in North Carolina out of her head.
“Yeah, fine.”
He looked at her sideways, but she busied herself with her ponytail until he said, “Lincoln got a warrant for Fane’s phone and laptop. He’s getting ready to delve into that. Ariadne ID’d her, right? That should be solid enough to start.”
“Yes. Though I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to going to the A.D.A. with this testimony.”
“LT, she’s credible, no matter what her beliefs. You won’t have any trouble there. I just saw Theo Howell and a couple who I assume are his parents. They’re waiting on you.”
“I’ll stick here for a few minutes, if that’s okay. I’d like to see you work your magic.”
He smiled at her. “Your foot okay?”
“It’s a bit sore. I’ll live.”
“Good. Here goes nothing.” He went into the interrogation room.
When McKenzie walked into the room, Fane Atilio sat straight up in her chair, eyes wide. Taylor watched the tiniest bit of a smile curve her lips upward, and then she got it. Fane glanced at the door, saw no one else was coming through it and promptly began to cry. She looked like a wounded kitten, eyes moist and round, the long black lashes filling with salty dew. She cried prettily, demure and low, with glances up now and again to judge the effect.
Taylor turned the volume up on the tape. She’d seen women like this before. The ones who played men, who acted completely vulnerable just to get the attention. Taylor had watched many a strong man fall all over himself to help a girl like this, a true damsel in distress. A girl who needed.
Taylor wasn’t like that. She’d always been a hoist yourself by your bootstraps, put on your big girl pants and deal with life kind of person. She detested the very idea of a man rushing to her rescue. Hell, that’s what caused half the friction between her and Baldwin in the first place-his desire to protect her and her stubborn refusal to allow it.
But as she watched, she quickly realized that Fane was her complete opposite. Fifteen and already well- versed in the art of fragile seduction. She was peeking out from under her lashes to gauge the effect her crying had on McKenzie. My God, the girl was just like Taylor’s mother, Kitty. She was Kitty, to a T.
McKenzie, bless his soul, wasn’t falling for it for a second, but was using it to his advantage. Fane was being played by a player, and didn’t even know it.
“She’s quite a piece of work.”
Taylor turned. Joan Huston stood at her elbow, gazing speculatively into the video monitor.
Taylor gave her a wry nod. “Yes, she is. But at least she’s starting to talk. I was in there for half an hour and she didn’t do anything more than grunt.”
“This is your suspect?” Huston asked.
“One of them. We can’t find her parents, and she’s not cooperating anyway, so we’re going to have to sit on her for a while until we clear it up. We’re missing one more, but I’m pretty sure they are all in league together. Our eyewitness drew a likeness of this girl and Susan Norwood, and they matched exactly.”
“What’s her agenda?”
“That’s a good question. I’m looking for it. She talks a good game, but who knows? We’ve tracked the drugs back to the dealer. I’m waiting to hear if the lab results from this morning’s bust match what we took from the Howell boy last night. If it does, we have Keith Barent Johnson and Juri Edvin dead to rights for murder one, for Brittany Carson. What I’m trying to figure out is where these girls fit into the picture-Fane Atilio and Susan Norwood-and how the other seven victims are tied in.”
“The Norwood girl’s brother was a victim, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. He was found with his girlfriend, Amanda Vanderwood. When I spoke to the parents at the crime scene, they said their daughter was at home with her nanny. They didn’t seem to know that she was out of the house. And Xander’s best friend is Theo Howell. He was the last person to talk to Xander. We’ve got a lot of loose ends, I’m afraid.”
“Speaking of the Norwoods, they’re here now, making quite a fuss. I’d suggest you go have a conversation with them, get them calmed down.”
“I’ll go in just a minute. I want McKenzie with me. He’s got insight into these kids. His impressions have been invaluable.”
“He’s a good detective, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.”
Huston flashed her a horsey grin. “Tell me, Lieutenant. Is it true that you have a soothsayer on board this case?”
Taylor turned away from the video feed. “A soothsayer? I don’t know about that. Her name is Ariadne, and she showed up yesterday and fingered these kids for the crime. I’m not sure how much I believe her, but she does claim to be a witch.”
“Hmm,” Huston said. “Maybe I should go ask her to read my fortune.”
Taylor realized she was teasing, smiled back. “We’re close, ma’am. Very close.”
“Good. Keep me informed. Good work, Lieutenant.”
