Crush - Alan Jacobson [135]
Thanks for cooperating. We need time to go through this. As promised, reporters from the press and kntv are here. We’re calling the mayor and will keep up our end of the deal. There’ll be something on the 11 o’clock news and a front page article in tomorrow’s paper. We need your help with something. We’re confused because there are victims we don’t know about and we can’t match their names to their photos. And I’m sure you can enlighten us as to why victoria cameron, ursula robbins, isaac jenkins, maryanne bernal, and scott fuller aren’t on your list. Please reply to this email or leave us another flash drive. Thanks again for your cooperation.
Vail read the proposed message to the task force members. “Comments?”
Lugo turned to her, slowly. His face was hard, his jaw set. “I hate this fucker. Why are we sucking up to him? That email sucks. We should tell him to go fuck himself.”
“Ray,” Vail said calmly, “this offender is a narcissist. We’ll get more by being subservient to him, by showing him respect and deference. Our goal, our only goal, is to catch the bastard. If we piss him off and he cuts off communication with us, we may not have another opportunity to achieve our one and only objective.”
“Send it,” Dixon said. She looked over at Brix, who nodded agreement.
Vail said, “I’m emailing this to you, Ray. Send it through Outlook, like you did before.”
“But he didn’t like that—”
“I want his response coming to you guys. In a little while . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I just want the communication to go to the sheriff’s department mail server, not my BlackBerry.”
Brix sighed deeply, then pushed himself from his chair. “I’ll call the Mayor. And Congressman Church. And Stan Owens. We’ll all need to huddle on this media story. I’ll tell the reporters we’ll have something for them around nine. Roxx, as lead, I think you should be the face of the investigation. Agreed?”
Dixon nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
Brix pulled his phone to make the calls. Vail looked at the screen, where the image of an unnamed woman lay. The mask of death draped across her face.
FORTY-EIGHT
Burt Gordon walked into the room and nodded at the people who looked up. “I handed off the Guevara surveillance to a couple guys from NSIB. But I have doubts about him being our UNSUB.” He glanced at the screen, then froze.
“Hate to say it,” Dixon said, “but it’s beginning to look that way.”
Vail felt like saying, “I’ve always had doubts about him. It just doesn’t fit.” But she didn’t. She’d already voiced her opinion. And she hadn’t had anything better to offer.
A call came through on the room phone. Lugo picked it up, then pressed a button. “It’s Aaron.”
Matthew Aaron’s voice filtered through the speaker. “Redd, you there?”
Brix, leaning against the wall, said, “We’re here, Matt. Got anything for us?”
“You’re not going to like it. We’ve traced the flash drive to a PC right here at the SD.”
Brix pushed away from the wall and walked closer to the phone’s speaker. “What?”
“I watched the cybergeeks do their thing, and they’re sure about it. I’ve had them lock down the room. I’m gonna go over there in a minute and start dusting.”
Brix shook his head. “How can that be? It’s a secure facility. You need a prox card—”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. Turns out there was a prox card lost about three weeks ago. Shil-ray Simmons. I just talked with her, took her to task, questioned her pretty hard. She said she thought she just misplaced it and was afraid to report it lost. Nothing was missing, nothing was reported stolen in the building, so she figured it’d turn up, that it was just misplaced in a drawer somewhere.”
Brix’s face shaded red. “What the hell was she thinking? Evidence could’ve been tampered with, cases could’ve been compromised.” He leaned a hand on the wall. “And what were you thinking, questioning her? You’re a CSI, Matt.”
“I was just trying to help. I uncovered the missing card, didn’t I?”
Brix swiped a hand down his face. “We’ll discuss this later. Have they deactivated the stolen