Crush - Alan Jacobson [23]
Brix turned, picked up a marker, touched it to the whiteboard, then stopped and recapped the marker. He said, “It’s Victoria Cameron.”
Vail watched the reaction of those in the room. Clearly, Victoria Cameron was someone they were acquainted with. “Obviously, this means something,” Vail said.
“Yeah,” Dixon said. “Bad news for us, is what it means. Victoria Cameron is—was—the daughter of one of the most influential wine-makers in the valley. Frederick Montalvo.”
“She’s married,” Vail said.
“She is,” Fuller said, “to . . . what’s that guy’s name?”
“Kevin Cameron,” Lugo said.
Brix sighed heavily. “Okay.” He sucked on his upper lip, then leaned on the conference table with both hands. “We gotta do our jobs real well, because there’s gonna be some heat no matter what happens. If we fuck up . . . well, I don’t even want to think about it. But we need to control this information as best we can, so effective immediately, I’m putting a gag order on this building. We also need to inform next of kin. I’ve never met the lady or her family. Anyone want to handle that?”
“I got it,” Lugo said. “I went to school with one of the Montalvo brothers. I knew Victoria. I know Kevin. I know the whole family.”
Brix wrote the assignment on the board beside Lugo’s name. “Roxxi, you’re already getting the Silver Ridge warrant drawn. Why don’t you pick up their guest list, too?”
“Will do.”
Brix moved the task to Dixon’s column. “One other thing. We’ve canvassed the area around the cave, and no one saw anything unusual. Of course, that would’ve been too easy.” He tossed the marker onto the table. “Let’s meet back here at four o’clock.” He grabbed a piece of paper from his binder and passed it to Fuller. “Write down all your contact info. I’ll run copies for all of you before you leave. Anything comes up, call me and I’ll make sure everyone knows.”
Vail signed the sheet, passed it on, then stepped over to Brix. “I’m gonna need to ride with someone. Or I can do my thing with Detective Hernandez, if you don’t mind.”
Brix chuckled. “As long as you don’t tell him who the vic is, I don’t care what you do.”
“You still don’t want me here, do you?”
“What I want doesn’t really matter, does it? I think you’ve got some valuable insight we could use. Is it gonna catch us a killer? I have no fucking idea.”
“Profiling isn’t gonna catch us a killer, Brix. It’s just another weapon at our disposal.”
He closed his binder and slung it under his wrist. “Let’s hope that weapon is locked and loaded. We may very well need to use it.”
FOURTEEN
Vail walked outside into the cool air and took a deep breath. The scent of American oak barrels filled with fermenting Cabernet grapes floated on the air like the background perfume of an expensive day spa in Calistoga, miles down the road.
Then again, maybe she was just imagining it. She gave Robby a call to see where he was, but he didn’t answer his cell. She left a message, then called her ASAC, Thomas Gifford.
A moment later, she was put through to his desk. “So how’s your vacation? How’s the weather out there? Been raining nonstop here since you left. I think you should come home, give us a break.” He chortled a bit, in surprisingly good spirits.
She hesitated. “Weather’s been good. Vacation was good, too. But . . .”
“I don’t think I like the sound of this, Karen. But what?”
She and Gifford didn’t agree on much, and they’d had their share of arguments, but this was not likely to sit well with him, given what had happened with Yates, and, of course, Dead Eyes. Given the work the profilers did, the mental health of those in his units was a top priority. “Well, we kind of stumbled onto something here.”
“What kind of ‘something’?”
“Something like a dead body. Both breasts severed and removed from the scene—”
“Ah, Jesus Christ, Karen. What are you, a serial killer magnet?”
“Yeah, that’s a good one, boss. Remind me to put that on