gotten back to the office and was trying to get an eye on the latest memos before calling an Escape Team powwow.
Bear snorted his derision at the report he was reading and tossed it atop the stack, his other hand groping blindly inside the Krispy Kreme carton for the last doughnut, which he'd eaten five minutes ago. Tim, Bear, and Guerrera had shoved their desks together, though whether the limited synergy was worth the cost of Bear's secretarial skills was doubtful. Guerrera had stepped into Miller's office, hovering over the fax machine. Tim caught his eye through the blinds and waved him over, but he held up his index finger.
'Okay, guys,' Tim said. 'Can I borrow your brains again?' He waited for the other deputies to gather around the union of the desks. 'Pierce Jameson knows more than he's letting on. We want to dig up everything we can on his current activities. He's a businessman-Freed, we could use your eyes unraveling his finances, properties, tax records, anything that might shed light. Can you take point on that?'
'Sure. How about the mom? We could have one of the nurses put out that she had a stroke or something and needs familial consent for an operation. See if we can bait Jameson to go to the hospital and sign off. Nab him there.'
'He's too sharp for the ruse.'
Thomas said, 'His file did say he was Mensa.'
No one laughed this time. Even Freed, Thomas's partner, looked uncomfortable. Thomas withdrew from the circle of deputies, heading back to his desk. 'This isn't a military command. Not everyone has to drop everything when the Troubleshooter decides he's got a hot lead.'
'The marshal designated Jameson a major case,' Bear said. 'Or did you go off the payroll?'
'Oh, is that a designation now? 'Major case'? Where's that fall in the hierarchy-not Shit Yer Pants but above Damn Serious? Walker Jameson isn't a Top Fifteen-'
'If we don't catch him soon,' Tim said, 'he will be.'
'— so why's he highest priority? Because Rack's working the case?'
'Over-the-walls always take precedence,' Bear said.
'Jowalski, I'd think you'd be tired of carrying Rack's bags by now.'
Bear crumpled up the doughnut carton and heaved it straight past Thomas and into the trash can beside his desk-not a touch of rim. 'Does it ever occur to you, with your aviator sunglasses and your minivan and golden retriever, that more and more we have to go after fugitives who are better equipped than we are? Hell, better equipped than the Israeli army. Are you the one who's trained to do that?'
Guerrera hustled back out of Miller's office, handing Tim a warm fax. 'Word back on stolen cars near the dump. Two vehicles were taken from the area that night. An Escalade and a Camry.' As Tim glanced at the makes, models, and plate numbers, Guerrera said, 'You're thinking the Escalade?'
'The Camry. Less conspicuous.'
Tim handed the fax to Maybeck, who said, 'Not if he's on the West Side.'
'Would you get this to Dispatch, have them put out a BOLO on both vehicles? Did you get us an address for Walker's ex?'
Guerrera said, 'Zim's on it.'
Zimmer nodded. 'Kaitlin Jameson. Sorry, got tied up with that DEA fugitive out of Georgia. I'll pull you an address right now.'
'Did you talk to Tess's boss?'
'Dentist?' Guerrera said. 'Nice woman, couldn't offer much. She said Tess had been on edge, but she chalked it up to her kid. I guess she had a sick son.'
'Tess's kid?' A one-second lag as Tim cast his mind back to the name in Tess's letter. 'Sammy. Where is he now?'
'Don't know.'
'Can we find out? And what happened with Tess's shrink?'
'The usual,' Guerrera said. 'I reached a couple of counseling centers in the area, patient confidentiality, blah blah blah. That nut ain't worth the cracking time, socio.'
'Did you get Tess's autopsy?'
'He handed the job off to me.' In his best Billy Bob Thornton, Denley added, 'Ah like them purty pictures, mm-hm.' He scurried off. 'Lemme grab the file.'
The door banged open, and Dray strode in, Tyler koala-hooked to a hip, her other arm pinning down an investigation file.
'You got it?' Tim asked.
'I got more than that.' Dray set Tyler down, slapping fives and exchanging hugs with some of the guys. Ty promptly crawled over and undid Bear's shoelaces.
Denley watched Tyler with a smile. 'How is the little man?'
'Handful.' Dray snatched the autopsy report from Denley. 'What's this?' She started to thumb through it as Tyler sat on Tim's shoe, affixing himself to his leg.
One of the transfers-a mustached kid out of the Cincinnati office-said, 'That contains some pretty gruesome photos, ma'am.'
She looked up from the open file. A few of the deputies chuckled. Denley raised his eyebrows and stepped back from the line of fire.
'During both of my C-sections, I had my bladder in my lap,' Dray said. 'Don't tell me about gruesome.'
Zimmer whispered something to the newcomer, who flushed and got busy on a nearby phone. The deputies dispersed, and Dray rolled a chair over, facing Tim, Bear, and Guerrera and executing a behind-the-back blind snatch of the pencil that Tyler's teeth were about to clamp down on.
'The good thing is,' she said, 'there was an investigation into Tess's death, however superficial, before the suicide ruling closed the matter. Elliott worked the intro between me and the case detective, and so I got a thorough background. First, about the victim: Tess was single-divorced-no relationship to speak of, not much money. She had a very ill seven-year-old son, some kind of genetic disorder. Bad news. She picked up an accounting degree online after he was diagnosed and went from a waitress gig to running a dentist's office. If I were prone to drawing conclusions, I might say she was seeking ways to maximize her income to pay for the kid's medical treatment. And if I were a chauvinist, I might point out that there are some money-generating activities that can lead to pregnancy, but then I'd have to offend myself, so I won't.'
Bear said, 'Not married, knocked up, broke, desperate, sick kid-it adds up to a convincing suicide.'
'Convincing?' Guerrera said. 'I don't believe a woman who was pregnant would commit suicide.' His accent got stronger with the machismo.
'How many times you been pregnant?' Dray asked. 'Not as much fun as it looks. Now, the good news is the pregnancy bought us a more thorough investigation, as we see here.' She tapped the autopsy file with her short- trimmed nails. 'The detective dotted his i's, wanting to keep anyone from crying Laci. It was an early-term, seven weeks, so Tess likely knew about it, though from interviews on file, no one else did. Obviously, if we could find the- and I use the term in its strict zoological sense-'father,' we'd be in good shape, but the detective got nowhere on that either, so for now I'll put it on my wish list next to 'Footage of Suicide.''
One of Zimmer's prostitute informants hustled past them toward his desk.
'Lady haff short dress,' Tyler observed.
Bear craned his neck. 'She sure does.'
Dray said, 'You know what else he likes? Bourbon and unfiltered Luckies.' Bear shrugged apologetically, and she continued, 'Blood-flow pattern shows she was alive at the time of the shooting, so it's either what it looks like or someone knew what they were doing. She did have gunshot residue on her left hand. As Bear pointed out, there's a good case to be made for a suicide. But here's what I don't like. One: no suicide note. As we all know, women-especially women with kids-leave notes. If only to register their final complaints.'
Tyler held out his arms, and when Tim hoisted him into his lap, he rested his soft, warm head in the hollow of Tim's neck and curled a tiny fist around Tim's thumb. Tim tipped his nose to the downy white hair, caught the scent of no-tears shampoo.
Dray continued, 'Problem two: She seemed to have a very close relationship with her son, but she left her body for him to find. She made some arrangements for the night of-he was at a sleepover up the street-so why let him walk home and see the aftermath?'