Crush - Alan Jacobson [137]
“What’s the deal?”
“We got an Office document written by a serial killer,” Agbayani said as he opened Outlook and started a new email. “PowerPoint. We need you to crack it. The embedded info.”
Tomás tapped his #2 Black Warrior pencil on the desk. “Okay, send it over. I’ll get started on it as soon as I’m done with the meeting. How about I get back to you in two hours or so?”
Agbayani hit Send and the Crush Killer’s files were on their way. “That’d be great, Tomás. Looks like we’ve got RoundTable in the sheriff’s department here, so we can video conference with the task force. And—same as before—this is confidential shit, don’t be circulating it around the campus. And for your sake, don’t view its contents. It’ll chill your flabby geek ass.”
“That’s a geek ass of steel, bro.” The Outlook chime sounded and Tomás’s eyes canted down, away from the camera. “Got the email. Be good. Catch you later.”
The Live Messenger webcam screen went blank.
“Great work, Eddie,” Brix said. “Ray, email a copy of that PowerPoint file to the video guys and have them analyze the clips. Maybe something in the background’ll tip off the UNSUB’s location—a site-specific sound, a landmark sign, whatever. Eddie, you, me, and Burt, when he gets back, will work on the vics in the file. Austin, Roxxi, Karen, why don’t you three take a break, grab some dinner, meet back here in a couple hours. I think we’re gonna be here all night. We’ll work in shifts.”
Vail caught his gaze and silently reminded him she would need to leave them at seven. Brix nodded, the twist of his lips indicating disappointment.
She thought of sticking around to help out. But there was nothing more for her to do at the moment. They now had a dialogue going with the offender, and the key would be in his reply to their email. Her advice at that point would be critical, but until then, her expertise was not needed. And she would be back before her deadline to lend whatever final thoughts she had to offer.
Brix turned toward the whiteboard to make some notes. “Oh, Roxx—bring back a few of those pizzas.”
“From Azzurro?” Dixon asked.
“Best in town.”
Dixon glanced at Vail. “We just had that for lunch.”
“Hey, life’s tough all over. See you in a couple. Maybe by then we’ll have something back from Microsoft.”
FORTY-NINE
Austin Mann had an errand to tend to, while Vail and Dixon ran over to Fit1! for a quick workout. They put their clothing in lockers, then headed out onto the gym floor. Because it was dinner time, only a few dedicated gym rats were still there, pressing weights and cycling.
Vail migrated to the Life Fitness elliptical to get in some needed work on her knee, while Dixon headed to the Ivanko barbells and Hammer Strength machines.
Vail punched the program buttons, then began pumping her legs and moving her arms. Five minutes in, her mind cleared and her thoughts turned to James Cannon, the guy she met here yesterday. Something about him. What is it? That whole exchange bothered her. What was it? Think . . . He’d said, “FBI, very cool . . . I feel like we’ve met before.” Did he say that because he’d sent me letters and text messages and emails? Is that what he was implying? Or was he just hitting on me?
Vail stopped moving and stood there on the machine, sorting it through. She climbed down off the elliptical and went back to her locker, pulled her BlackBerry, and dialed Lugo.
“Ray, it’s Karen. Listen, can you check something for me? You’ve got your ear to the ground in the wine country, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Ever hear of Herndon Vineyards?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. Where’s it located? The Valley? Sonoma, Healdsburg—”
“Don’t know. All I can tell you is they have great soil for growing Cabernet. Not sure that helps much.”
“Actually, it might.”
“Winemaker’s name is James Cannon.”
“Two n’s or one?”
“Your choice. No clue.”
“Anything in particular you’re interested in?”
Vail narrowed her eyes as she thought. “Nothing I can put my finger on. Just some vibes. Probably nothing. This guy, James Cannon. Roxxann and