Crush - Alan Jacobson [61]
“We’ve got nothing that says it’s a LEO. That’s why not.”
“A bigger question,” Vail said, “is how he got my cell number. The only place that’s listed—other than at the Bureau—is at the sheriff’s department. If it’s not a cop, it could be support personnel.”
Lugo nodded. “I’ll get a list, see if it leads anywhere.” He started to turn, then stopped. “What about data backups? Where are they kept?”
Brix raised his brow. “Don’t know. But that’s a good point. Check it out.”
“Who found the body?” Dixon asked.
Brix knelt and pointed at the ground, where paw prints were evident. “Dog must’ve smelled the blood and tracked through it. When he went over to that house out there,” Brix said, indicating the structure where they had all parked, “he had blood all over his paws. The owner freaked out, thought her dog was hurt. She cleaned him up and saw it wasn’t coming from him. She called 911 and dispatch called me. I’ve already spoken to her about the importance of not telling anyone about this.”
“Did she seem cooperative?” Vail asked.
“I was pretty firm about it, gave her a little incentive.” He used his fingers as imaginary quotation marks. “I don’t think she’ll be a problem.”
A loud whistle came down the long dirt row between the vines. Trudging toward them with his thumb and middle finger between his lips was the tall and thin CSI, Matthew Aaron. He stopped a few feet from the body and looked down. “Looks like we’ve got a freaking party here. Sure you don’t want to extend the invitation? I think we need more bodies trampling through my crime scene.”
“Just do your thing and let us know what you find,” Brix said.
He surveyed the immediate area, then chose a spot to set down his toolbox. “I’m gonna need each of you to retrace your steps outta here. And stop by the lab at some point today so I can get castings of each of your shoes.”
As they moved out of the vineyard and back to the parking lot, Vail’s phone rang. It was Frank Del Monaco.
“VICAP?” Vail asked.
“VICAP,” Del Monaco said. “So here’s the deal. The toenail thing is unique as far as the database is concerned. So either no one thought much of reporting a missing toenail, or none of the murders that involved a missing toenail were submitted to VICAP. Or these are the only kills this UNSUB’s committed.”
“Makes sense, because I’d never seen or heard of it before.”
“And I’m looking into that other thing.”
Vail joined the knot of task force members, who had congregated around Brix’s vehicle. “What other thing?”
“Rooney asked me to look into something. He was at the airport, dialed me up and said I got to look into some guy you’re working with. A Detective Scott Fuller.”
Vail was standing five feet away from Fuller. She glanced over at him to see if he’d heard his name. She couldn’t tell. “Hang a sec.” Vail moved off a few paces and said, “What exactly did Art want you to look into? And why? The guy’s a bit of a showoff, trying to impress everyone with his knowledge. But he’s harmless, nothing I can’t handle.”
“Rooney was a little more concerned than that. You know how he is. Someone crosses him, he goes for the jugular.”
She made a mental reminder never to get on Rooney’s bad side. “Okay, but what’s there to look into?”
“He sent me on a fishing expedition. Anything and everything I can find on the guy.”
Vail glanced over at Fuller. “I think he’s overreacting.”
Del Monaco laughed. “You want me to tell him that when he gets here?”
“No,” Vail said a little too quickly. “Leave it be. I don’t know what he saw, but I assume something caught his attention.”
“Yeah, and he might’ve been right. A sealed record. Have no idea what it is, but I’m on it.”
“Could be nothing.” Or, it could be something. “Keep me posted.” She ended the call, put away the phone, and stood there observing. The late afternoon wind blew her hair back off her face. What was it Rooney saw that she hadn’t seen? Was it something obvious, something she should’ve recognized, or merely a feeling he’d gotten in their brief interchange in the conference