still a problem. Two men were shot there last night, and it looks just like the New York case.”
“Yeah, I read about it online. So it’s officially been tied in now?” Baldwin asked.
“Yes. Two taps to each forehead with. 44 caliber bullets. Ballistics are a match.”
“Great job. Explain this part to me. You said contestant.”
“I did.”
“Like on a game show?”
“Just like it. And there’s a reason.”
“You’re killing me, Kevin. Please.”
Kevin smothered a laugh. “Fine. Take all the fun out of it. I’ve got good news. The Tennessee Highway patrol saw the BOLO for the license plates and spread the word. They grabbed Pylant at a McDonald’s off Interstate 40 just outside of Knoxville, said he was acting twitchy. He’s talking, too.” Bingo.
“What’s he saying?”
“Pylant? Like I said, I think he may be a schizophrenic. But he keeps insisting he’s a part of a larger game, that this is his big chance. He’s a definite spree killer in the making. He was packing more ammunition than the ATF boys take on their training exercises.”
“So he’s in custody in Knoxville?”
“Yeah. Sewn up. I’ll find out what else he’s saying and get that to you as quick as I can. In the meantime, at least we know who was where. And it’s pretty evident where they were all headed.”
“Yeah. Nashville.”
“That’s right.
“You’re the best, Kevin. Let me know if you get anything else.”
“Will do. Everything under control down there?”
“To an extent. Being on the sidelines isn’t exactly easy for me, you know?”
“I do. Hey, Garrett wants to talk to you. He asked that you give him a call.”
“All right. I will. Thanks.”
Baldwin hung up with Kevin and checked his watch. Before he talked to Garrett, he wanted to check in with Taylor.
He speed-dialed her number, relieved when she answered right away.
“Wells just killed the Zodiac copycat in the Forensic Medical parking lot,” she said without preamble. “But now we know what Ewan Copeland looks like. The death investigator Barclay Iles, remember him? He’s our guy. Ewan Copeland has been working at Forensic Medical for almost a year.”
Baldwin mentally flashed to the man’s face. Wrapped his head around the idea. He’d had open access to Taylor for a year, right in her own backyard. Fear turned to rage; he missed what Taylor said next.
“What?”
“He’s been dating Kris. She suggested him to Sam. He’s got a full forensic background, though I couldn’t tell you how much of it was real. I’ve worked with him, Baldwin. Shoulder to shoulder. Shared meals, late nights, laughs. I respected him. Sam’s been working with him for months. He’s been a part of our lives, watching, waiting for the perfect moment.”
There was an edge of panic to her voice, not that he blamed her.
“Calm down. Where are you right now?”
“I just left Sam’s office.”
“Where does Barclay Iles live?”
“With Kris, officially. But you know he has another place somewhere. She’s not seen him for a few days. He told her his mother was sick and he was going to Florida this week. He disabled Sam’s car and took her out of Forensic Medical under the auspices of doing his performance review. The son of a bitch has her, Baldwin. I have all his information, but without Lincoln to track him down, I can’t go any further.”
“Without Lincoln? What?”
He heard her car engine turn over. “I’m heading downtown now. Lincoln’s been involved in a shooting, and Colleen Keck is dead. I don’t have the details, just that she ran outside and was ambushed.”
Everything was falling apart. He needed to get to Taylor.
“I’ll meet you at the CJC. Drive carefully. Don’t worry, okay? The Boston Strangler copycat is still out there, but the Knoxville police caught another one, looks like Son of Sam. He’s singing like a bird. He may know where Sam is. We’ll find her. I promise.”
“I hope so,” she said, then hung up the phone.
He was in the parking lot now. He unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel, turned the heat on high. He was so rattled that it was only after he put the car in gear and started to leave the parking lot that he realized how short Taylor had been. She never got off the phone without saying she loved him. Nor did he. It was one of their sacred things. They were in a dangerous profession; Taylor had once told him that she never wanted to die without telling her people she loved them. He felt the same way-his parents, dead when he was just sixteen, had expressed their love for him before they left for the evening…he hadn’t returned their words. The guilt racked him for years. Still got under his skin sometimes.
He dialed her back. She didn’t answer.
What in the hell was going on?
Stress. She was just stressed. Her best friend was missing, bait in an obscenely unfair game. Of course she’d be preoccupied.
He left her a message, told her he loved her, then called Garrett.
Forty-Nine
T aylor ignored the phone when it rang again.
She hated lying to Baldwin. Even though he’d been lying to her for God knew how long, she didn’t want to be that woman. The one who said she was going shopping with her friends and actually met her lover in the park. The one who calculated a man’s worth before she spoke to him. The one who said I love you and didn’t mean it. She wasn’t that kind of woman, yet here she was openly lying to her fiance about where she was going. And worse, what she’d be doing.
Greater good, Taylor. You know he’d stop you if he was close. You’re smart to send him away. To send him where he’ll be safe.
And face it, you don’t want him around while you commit murder.
When Kris told her Barclay/Ewan lived with her, her heart sank. A separate address would have been much too easy. Of course he wouldn’t do that. She sat in her car for five minutes, breathing, thinking, deciding. She had a feeling she knew where he was, where he’d taken Sam. If she were Ewan Copeland, it was exactly where she would go to end things in Nashville. He knew her well enough to know she’d figure that out. The stage had been set perfectly.
She placed a quick call to Julia Page, the assistant district attorney she felt most comfortable asking a favor from.
Julia picked up on the first ring. “Taylor, thank goodness you’re okay. I just heard about the shooting.”
“Which one?”
“There’s more than one? I’m talking about Colleen Keck.”
“We also had a suspected copycat in the parking lot of Forensic Medical. He was neutralized.”
“Good God. Did you shoot him? Did he hurt Sam? Have you found her?”
“No, I didn’t. Jesus, Julia. I’m hardly trigger-happy.” Yeah, right. Like she wouldn’t have taken the opportunity herself, and enjoyed it. This was who she’d become. Blindly seeking revenge. “I don’t know anything more about Sam, but I’m working on it. Hey, Julia, do you have a contact number for Joshua Fortnight?”
Silence billowed through the phone. Julia finally cleared her throat.
“I know the name of the home he’s in. He opted for a group living environment when his father was killed. There was no one left to take care of him, and the estate got locked in an escrow fight, and the staff was let go. The estate will be in probate for years. They released enough funds to pay Joshua’s medical expenses. We were
