Crush - Alan Jacobson [38]
“I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Vail said. “A profiler.”
“Profiling. I’ve always wondered about that,” Nance said. “Is there any validity to that stuff?”
Vail chuckled. “You know, you bring up a valid point, Mr. Nance. I’ve had the same doubts. I’ve always thought my career was a waste of time and taxpayer money.”
The room was silent. Nance dropped his head and leaned back in embarrassment, clearly realizing how stupid his question was. At least, that was Vail’s initial interpretation of his reaction. Now that she thought about it, however, he could’ve been thinking, Who’s this bitch and how can I get rid of her?
“Agent Vail has a way with words,” Brix said, breaking the odd quiet that had draped the room like dense smoke.
“I’ve found her analysis useful so far,” Dixon said.
Lugo nodded. “Because of her input, I was able to find that Vallejo vic.”
“That’s dandy,” Nance said, a bit louder. “Has it caught us a killer?”
“Look,” Vail said, “I’m not here to debate the merits of profiling. But I’m here. And to answer your question, yes, there’s validity to it.”
“Why are you here?”
“I wasn’t—”
“I asked for her help,” Brix said.
Vail looked at him, and again, tried to disguise her facial expression, which probably bordered on wide-mouthed shock.
“This is something beyond our knowledge base,” Brix said. “We probably could’ve done a decent job, muddled through it, missed some important nuances about this killer, and eventually caught the guy. But in my estimation, we’ve got a volatile situation here. And since we’re dealing with the lives of young women, I felt it was best to bring in the FBI. Before we had more victims, new victims, to deal with.”
Nance started to object. Brix held up a hand. “I don’t like Agent Vail’s methods, but she knows her shit. So unless Sheriff Owens has a problem, Vail stays and we move on. Sheriff?” Brix turned to Owens.
“I’ve been to the National Academy at Quantico,” he said, speaking ahead, not looking at the dignitaries. “Agent Vail was one of my instructors. She’s got my vote.”
Brix’s eyes scanned his guests’ faces. Hearing no objection, he said, “Okay, then. Let’s follow up on our assignments.”
“One observation,” Vail said, “before we go any further. This new victim helps us build on that ‘access concept’ I mentioned after we found Victoria Cameron. We now have three likely vics of the same offender. They were each found in different locations. That means we have three different access lists to evaluate. Access population A, the Silver Ridge wine cave; population B, the excavated Black Knoll cave; and population C, Vallejo. Unfortunately, because Vallejo was a body dump, we don’t know where she was killed. If we can reopen that investigation and determine where she was murdered, we can look for overlap on who’d have access to these three crime scenes. That’d help narrow the suspect pool.”
“Interesting,” Nance said.
Dixon nodded. “We can start with population A. Karen and I obtained the guest lists from Silver Ridge.”
Vail locked eyes with Brix, waiting for him to disclose to the group his ownership interest. He met her stare and held it until she looked away. Then he said, “The guest lists are being cross-referenced by officers I’ve got working the case behind the scenes. So far, nothing unusual has shown up. Only a handful of locals, half of them women. The others are being looked at. They’ll be interviewed to see if they’ve got alibis for the time in question. I’ll let you know if we get anything interesting.”
Fuller said, “Population B, the excavated cave, is a problem. There’s a gate on the property, but anyone could realistically bypass it. But if we’re assuming it’s not leaky, you’re looking at a lot of potential people, from housecleaners to caterers, to gardeners, to maintenance people. All will be granted access without much resistance. I don’t think your access theory is going to get us anywhere.