provocation, then reviewed all Karin’s reports and learned she had a high rate of shootings. Karin found out, according to Meg, and tried to kill her by setting up a sting for a fugitive and putting Meg in the line of fire.”
“And she’s not in prison?”
“There was no proof to Meg’s accusation, and Karin was diagnosed with severe depression. Her mother had just killed herself. Three psychiatrists, one FBI and two independent, all came to the same conclusion.”
“How long was Megan looking into Karin’s record?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Longer than three weeks?”
Hans said, “It was longer than a month. Meg never came to me about it, though. Why didn’t she say something?”
“And accuse her partner of being a vigilante killer?” Jack said. “She wanted proof. Cross her
Dillon said over the speaker, “I’d bet my life savings that Karin killed her mother. How did she die?”
“Carbon monoxide poisoning. There was a suicide note.”
“Typed? On a computer?”
“Printed. But Crystal Standler’s prints were on the keys, no one else’s. Believe me, the FBI looked into the suicide after Karin’s actions.”
“I’ll still bet my reputation that Karin killed her mother or forced her to kill herself.”
“This doesn’t help us find Megan!” Jack said. “They’ve been gone over an hour.”
“Two things. Karin has taken Megan to a secluded place where she can be confident that not only will no one hear Megan, but they wouldn’t know where to look. The property will likely belong to someone she knows, who is either dead and the land is in probate, or it was willed to her but she never changed the ownership. Possibly property that is owned by the elderly couple-the Rubins-if they own any, but it would have been purchased in their name when she was living with them and they might not even know about it.”
“So we run property searches for the Rubins, Judge Standler, Crystal Standler-”
“Did Crystal remarry?”
“I believe so, but she was a widow when she died.”
“Check that husband’s name as well. And Ken Russo, plus any of the other victims, though I don’t think she did that. She’ll want to feel perfectly secure, and that means a place set up ahead of time that she doesn’t think anyone will find.”
“Why not break into a vacant house?” Jack asked.
“She wants a base camp. A place where she feels safe, in control, and away from prying eyes. She’ll take Megan to the one place she thinks she can do anything to her and not be discovered.”
“Dillon,” Hans interjected, “there is no national property records search. We have to go state by state. It’ll take days.”
“She’s close,” Dillon said. “She’s not going to want to drive for three days. I’d guess twelve hours, tops. Start in those states.”
“California, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, maybe Montana, Idaho, and Washington. That’s still a lot of territory.”
“Then we’d better get started,” Jack said. “Are you sure we’re not just chasing our tails? If this takes hours and doesn’t lead anywhere …”
“I’m confident in my assessment, Jack.”
Jack had a hard time trusting anyone, even his brother. But Dillon had proven himself in the past; Jack had no choice but to trust him now.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“She means something to you.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll find her.”
“God, I hope so.”
“Where’s your friend, Father Francis?”
“Hidalgo. Why?”
“There’s something to that. I’ve been reading Rosemont’s records in more depth. He was extremely obsessive-compulsive.”
“Which means?”
“Father Francis should have died.”
“We already figured they didn’t have the time to kill both Scout and Padre, or were interrupted.”
“No. Rosemont wouldn’t have left unless it was complete, or it would bother him so deeply he would be compelled to return.”
“And if he couldn’t?”
“He may start acting erratic and unpredictable, like he’s trying to scratch an itch he can’t reach.”
“Perhaps like killing two innocent civilians for no reason.”
“Perhaps.”
“Why is Padre important?”
“He saw Karin at the church. They talked. She knew he was a priest and that he was part of the Delta team. But she couldn’t set him up. I think she had a Catholic upbringing. Team up with him; he may be able to talk her into letting Megan go. She has a healthy dose of respect for and fear of priests.”
“Fear?”
“I probably said that wrong. I meant, she respects and admires priests, but has a fear of God. That if she hurts a priest, that’s it.”
“She’s already going to Hell, Dillon.”
“I’m not making a moral judgment; I’m getting into her head. She justifies her actions because she’s not killing a man of God. Everyone else is guilty of something.”
“So she’s a religious nut job killing for God?”
“Absolutely not. She’s not insane, and she knows exactly why she kills.”
“Why?”
“Because she can get away with it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Icy water hit Megan across the face like a brick. She jumped and kicked, her thoughts jumbled. She was drowning. She coughed, breathed air through a raw throat, then received another slap of cold water.
Kicking again, Megan realized she was restrained. She shivered uncontrollably and opened her eyes, but even the dim lamp light made them ache.
“Come on, Meggie Eggie, time to wake up!”
Karin. The tranquilizer. She’d been talking to Hans and then … her ex-partner appeared.
“Karin.” Megan’s voice was low and raw from disuse. How long had she been unconscious? She squinted through dim, artificial light. Outside was complete darkness.
Megan had no idea where she was. She inhaled deeply, smelling the fresh, cold, pine scent of mountain air. What mountains? More pine than redwood. The room was large and open, like Jack’s cabin in Hidalgo but larger and lived in.
She couldn’t stop shivering and realized she had no clothes on. Only her bra and panties. She was tied to a table that had been tilted at a forty-five-degree angle.
“Karin,” she repeated.
“Great, you figured it out. Took you long enough.” The sarcasm rolled off her tongue.
“What do you want?”
“I want to hurt you.”
