Crush - Alan Jacobson [24]
“Serious, Karen. I sent you away to get away, get your mind off this shit.”
“Believe me, I wasn’t looking for it. It was a ‘wrong place, wrong time’ kind of thing.” Maybe I am some sort of psychosexual offender magnet.
“So let me guess. You told the detective assigned to the case that you should help out, because you’re the great Karen Vail, super agent who thinks she can absorb all sorts of psychological trauma and keep on ticking.”
“Not in so many words.”
“So now he wants BAU support.”
“Right again, sir. Did you eat your Wheaties this morning? You’re on a roll.”
Silence. Ooops. I must’ve gone a tad too far. Why do I always do that?
Finally, Gifford said, “So you think this is a serial offender?”
“I do. Not his first kill. Pretty brazen, possibly narcissistic.”
“Fine, you’re there, you take the case. But I don’t want you staying longer than your vacation. And when you get back, I want you to take a real vacation. Maybe we’ll put you in a cement overcoat, suspend you by crane over the Potomac, where you can’t get into trouble.”
“If you think it’ll help.”
“Honestly, I don’t. Somehow trouble will find you.”
“I’ll have the Incident Commander send you a formal note on letterhead. And hey, the sheriff here went to the National Academy.”
“Well, hey, that really makes my day, Karen. That makes me so happy. Glad to hear it. Just . . . just keep me up to date on what’s going on.”
Before she could reply, she realized the line was dead. But she still needed the VICAP run, so she called back. Asked for a colleague of hers, Frank Del Monaco. He answered on the third ring.
“Frank, it’s Karen.” She heard an audible sigh. “Something wrong?”
“I was having such a nice day before you called, is all.”
“And now?”
“Not so much. Wait—aren’t you in California on vacation?”
“Well, you got the first part right. Listen, I need you to run something through VICAP.”
“What do I look like, your servant?”
“Frank, I’m three thousand miles away. If I could do it myself, and not have to ask you for anything, I’d do it. Now, I need you to run the following parameters. The UNSUB we’re looking for—”
“You’re on vacation and you’re working a case?”
“Yes, Frank. And I don’t need any shit from you. Just run this or I’ll call Rooney or Hutchings.”
“Rooney’s in California, too. But, fine, whatever.”
Vail gave him the details of the behaviors she had observed. Del Monaco said he would run the report when he was done with his meetings and get back to her when he had the results.
She hung up and tried Robby again. Voice mail. She went back into the sheriff’s department and tracked down Brix. “I need a car or I need to ride with someone.”
“What about Hernandez?”
“He’s off doing his own thing. He’s not answering his phone.”
“Smart guy, probably tasting wine and enjoying himself.”
She ignored his swipe. “So—car or not?”
“Not. You can ride with Dixon.” He told Vail to wait there, then disappeared back into the task force conference room, down the hall. He emerged a moment later with a reluctant Dixon. Vail couldn’t hear what was being said, but from Dixon’s hand movements, it appeared she was asking, “Why me?”
After her apparently futile argument, Dixon moved back into the room while Brix held open the door. Dixon appeared seconds later with her binder clutched in her left hand. She made her way down the corridor to Vail. Her body was stiff, her face tight.
“Guess I’m chauffeuring you around today,” Dixon said.
“Just for a bit, till my friend gets my voice mail, then you can be rid of me.”
They walked outside to Dixon’s county-issued vehicle, a Ford Crown Victoria. She got in and unlocked the doors.
As Vail sorted herself out, Dixon snapped her seat belt and said, “Now what?”
“This is your investigation,” Vail said. “I’m here to help, that’s it. If there’s some insight I can offer that’ll help narrow our pool of suspects, that’s my specialty.”
Dixon put the car in drive and headed out of the lot. “Problem is, we have no pool of suspects.”
“At this point, we don’t even have a pond.”
Dixon stifled