Crush - Alan Jacobson [78]
TWENTY-EIGHT
Robby’s cell phone was clasped in his left hand as he knelt in front of Vail. He lifted her chin with a finger. “Karen, look at me.” He waited until her eyes met his. “It’s going to be okay. Bledsoe knows what he’s doing.”
She took a deep, uneven breath. Rage was building beneath the surface. Anger at having been so close to this killer, at having him over her shoulder—he touched her—and now, several hours later, he was within striking distance of her son.
He could’ve killed me, but he didn’t. Now he’s flown across the country. Why? Control. Power. That’s an awful lot of effort to go through to show her he’s running the show. Unless he intends to kill Jonathan.
She pulled herself to her feet, shook off Robby’s attempt to help her.
“Karen,” Dixon said. “There’s nothing you can do but sit and wait. Let’s go down the hall, get a cup of coffee.”
Vail ground her molars. She knew Dixon was trying to help, to help her pass the time until Bledsoe called with news. Of what? That Jonathan was safe? Or—
She pulled her gun and swung her arm, backhanding the window in the door to her right. The glass shattered with a crisp, jolting crash.
“Jesus, Karen.” Dixon grabbed her hand and forced the Glock toward the floor. “Calm the fuck down, will you?”
Vail yanked her hand free. “Goddamn bastard. No one threatens my son!”
Robby held up a hand. “Karen, look at me. Karen—” He waited while she focused on his face. “Put your weapon away.”
Vail ripped open her fanny pack and shoved the Glock inside. “I swear, I’m gonna kill this guy. If he touches Jonathan, I will castrate the fucker.”
“I hear you,” Robby said.
“Then I’m going to put a bullet in his deranged brain.”
Robby drew her close and enveloped her in his large torso.
“After he begs for his life,” she mumbled into his chest.
Robby stroked her hair. “That’s only if I don’t get to him first. I won’t be so nice about it.”
Lugo and Brix were walking down the hall toward them. Brix said, “We heard a window—” His eyes followed the door down to the floor, where shards of glass had landed. “What the hell happened?”
“Bats,” Dixon said.
Brix looked at her, then at Robby. “Bats?”
“Bats. Their sonar got fucked up.”
Brix took a step to his left, saw Vail huddled in Robby’s arms. “What’s going on?”
“UNSUB says he’s in Virginia,” Dixon said. “He texted Karen. He’s at her son’s school.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I need to go,” Vail said. She craned her neck up toward Robby. “When’s the next flight?”
“There’s a six-twenty-five out of SFO,” Lugo said.
Robby shook his head. “Even if you left now, you probably wouldn’t make the flight. Besides, it won’t even get there till almost six, and that’s if there are no delays. Then you have to get out of Dulles in rush hour.”
“I don’t care. I need to do something—”
“You called Bledsoe. He’ll handle it—if there’s even something to handle.”
Vail’s BlackBerry rang. She shoved Robby aside and fumbled the phone from her belt. Bledsoe’s number. “Yeah.”
“I’m on-site. Everything looks okay. I’ve got six officers en route, should be here any minute. We’ll comb the place, make sure everything’s cool. Then I’m gonna put someone on Jonathan, shadow him till you catch this guy. Good?”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Good. Thanks, Bledsoe. You’re the best.”
TWENTY-NINE
Dixon and Vail sat in the break room around the small round table, on formed, yellow plastic chairs. D Vail clutched a cup of hot tea.
Robby walked in and took a seat. He placed a hand atop Vail’s. “I also asked Lugo to do a search for flights out of SFO that’d arrive in the DC metro area by morning. Just to see if it’s even possible. Virgin has one, a 9:35 p.m. departure, arrives Dulles 5:30 a.m. I mapped out the timeline and it works out.”
Vail bowed her head. “So he could be there.”
“Yeah,” Robby said. “If not him, an accomplice. Impossible to say.”
“Call Virgin. Find out if they had anyone on that flight who looked suspicious.”
Robby tilted his head. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Just get a passenger