“This makes a lot of sense,” Sean said. “Except the why.”
“Because Jonathon is like you. He cannot stand bullies. He has always stood up for victims of violent crime. And teenage prostitutes-many of them were victims before they turned to selling sex. According to Jocelyn’s boss, Ivy was involved in this business for a long time, but helped other girls get out. She helped Jocelyn get girls off the streets.
“And somehow, Ivy is connected to Wendy James. I mentioned her name and it was written all over Ivy’s face. Three crime scenes, three messages, all a variation of a children’s rhyme.”
Lucy frowned, lost in thought, her lips moving, but he only heard an unintelligible murmur.
Sean didn’t like the expression on her face. She was internalizing the crime. He hadn’t seen her this intense in a long time, not since they had tracked an obsessive psychopathic killer in New York City five months ago.
“Luce-”
Sean remembered why he knew the name. Talking about Senator Paxton was the connection.
Paxton had hired him to do a background check on Ivy Harris. Said she’d applied for a job on his campaign.
Sean had learned that Ivy Harris didn’t exist, but her Social Security number belonged to a dead girl, Hannah Edmonds. He offered to dig deeper, but Paxton said it wasn’t necessary. That was right before Sean and Lucy went to the Adirondacks, and Sean had put it out of his mind.
Lucy suddenly sat up. “I got it!” She winced at the sudden movement. “I needed to say it out loud, and then I heard the rhythm. Listen:
“
Sean heard it, but didn’t know how Lucy extrapolated it.
She said, “It’s the exact same rhythm, the exact same beats. He was having fun; it means absolutely nothing. Remember, he didn’t intend to rape her. He only wanted to make it look like a failed rape. He strangled her from behind-there was no sexual component. He wanted the police to think she was killed by a random stranger. But it
“And,” she continued quickly, “when he killed the others he realized he’d had fun with the message. He saw the rat at the Red Light, spontaneously came up with the poem. Six targets. Witnesses say that at least six girls lived in the house on Hawthorne. Except-”
“Slow down,” Sean said, helping Lucy lean back onto the pillows. “Really, slow down.” His heart was racing, needing to keep her from overworking herself. What was he thinking? If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t want to lie down in bed while a major investigation was happening. He could, however, keep her calm.
“I need to explain this all to Noah,” Lucy said, excited about her theory. “It wasn’t clear earlier but now I see it.”
Monica the nurse came in with an orderly pushing a wheelchair. “You can talk to whomever you want after your X-rays.”
Sean kissed Lucy on the forehead, then helped her sit up. “Listen to the nice nurse and do as you’re told and you can have ice cream in bed when you get home.”
Lucy gave him a reprimanding look, but she couldn’t hold it and started laughing. “No, no, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”
Her laugh was the best thing for Sean’s nerves.
Sean watched Lucy being wheeled away and heard her ask the nurse, “Did you find out anything about Genie Reid?”
“She’s in surgery, but the doctor said she’s healthy and he expects her to fully recover.”
When everyone was gone, Sean sat heavily on the bed and rested his head in his hands.
He’d find a way to keep her from working too hard tonight, but tomorrow morning she’d be back on this case.
By then, he’d have the answers from Paxton. Why the senator hadn’t gone to the FBI already, Sean didn’t know, but he’d damn well find out.
Sean sat up and called Lucy’s brother Dillon.
“Is Lucy all right?” Dillon asked.
“She’s fine. She’s in X-ray.” Sean smiled, remembering how irritated Lucy had been, repeating herself.
“I’ll let Kate know, she’s on her way to the hospital.”
“I have an errand, and I’m afraid I won’t be back before she’s done. I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t urgent.”
“No explanations necessary. Kate will bring her home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Noah walked into FBI headquarters and was instantly bombarded with questions from his boss.
“What the hell happened?” Slater demanded. “Where’s Kincaid? I have the DC Metro police chief yelling at me, and it was his damn detective driving the car!”
Noah said with forced calm, “Genie Reid was shot in the arm. She’s in surgery. She was unconscious for twenty minutes and has a serious concussion, but is expected to recover. I made Lucy go to the hospital for X-rays, she insists she’s fine. She probably is, except for bruises, but she needs a full checkup.”
“This is why I didn’t want that girl in the field!”
Noah raised his eyebrow, biting back a more volatile retort. “‘That girl’? That girl just cracked our case wide open.”
“My office, Armstrong.”
Noah followed Slater and shut the door behind them. He stood at attention. He’d been a soldier for too long to blatantly disobey orders, but right now he wanted to be either working the case or checking on Lucy. He took responsibility for what happened. Lucy should never have been injured on the job. Not like this.
“Do you think she’s right?”
“About what?”
“That Wendy James was a prostitute.”
“There’s no hard evidence, but it fits with the information we have. The multiple affairs. The video recording room-”
Slater interrupted. “Which we have no confirmation was ever used by Wendy James or anyone else-it’s clean.”
“Which is another reason we need to find Ivy Harris and talk to her.”
Slater flipped through his e-mail, then opened Noah’s report. “You said Kincaid and Reid picked Harris up near Hawthorne Street and they were pursued by an unknown male in an unmarked dark blue van, wearing a Yankees cap.”
“Correct.”
“And how did Harris get out of the car?”
“She climbed out the shattered rear window and fled on foot. Lucy didn’t see an accomplice.”
“Doesn’t mean there wasn’t one.”
“Lucy thinks she was scared, that she didn’t know who was chasing her, and she was only concerned about her sister.”
“Sister?”
“Lucy said her name was ‘Mina.’ That’s from a neighbor on Hawthorne Street.”
