Crush - Alan Jacobson [94]
Dixon blotted her face with the towel. “You done with your workout?”
Panda glanced around at all the equipment. “No, I’ve still got another hour or so on the weights, then I’m gonna do some cardio.”
“Why don’t I call you when I have a better handle on what my work schedule looks like?”
Panda nodded. “Sounds good.” He gave Dixon his number.
She committed it to memory and told him she’d call him. “You want, you can always reach me through the DA’s office. We’re listed.” Dixon gave him a broad smile. “Or maybe we’ll meet up again here.”
“I’d like that,” Panda said.
Dixon winked. “Thanks again for your help. Bear.”
JOHN WAYNE MAYFIELD sat in his truck, slumped down in the seat, watching the exit to the Fit1! gym. Waiting around was not something he enjoyed, but it was often necessary in his line of work. So he continued to sit and surveil the entrance as the minutes ticked by.
Several men had left the gym, as well as a couple of women, but not the ones he was waiting on. He had followed Dixon and Vail to the gym, so he knew what car they had arrived in and where they parked. He had positioned his pickup so that he had a view of both the entrance and their vehicle. If they left through another exit, he’d still see them when they arrived at their car.
Mayfield checked his watch. How long can they possibly be in there? Don’t they have policework that needs attention? Haven’t I given them enough to do? As he sat there drumming his fingers on the dashboard, the front door swung open and out walked Dixon and Vail.
About fucking time. Dixon had a tote slung across her shoulder and a bounce in her step. He watched as the two of them walked to their car. Dixon shoved her key into the lock and lifted the trunk lid, then tossed her sport bag into the back and closed it.
Your time will come, Roxxann Dixon. Very soon. This afternoon? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He had much to consider—least of which was what approach would provide him with maximum impact.
He would use the time while tailing them to mull his options. Maybe something would come to him, a plan of action.
Mayfield turned the key and started the engine. He’d continue following them for now to see where they were headed with their investigation. That might help him formulate a cogent approach, ultimately making his job easier.
He pulled out of the parking lot and maintained a discreet distance. A mile or so down 29, an idea began to form. Take the local first. Dixon. It’ll throw everyone into a state of panic. I won’t leave them a choice—they’ll have to talk to the press. Because I’ll leave the body in a very public place, posed, in front of City Hall, right on the stairs. Late at night, so when the bureaucrats arrive in the morning, it’ll be like a blow to the throat. The press will swarm. Then I’ll do Vail, an FBI profiler, and leave her body somewhere else, somewhere public. A double header. State and Federal. They’ll fucking freak. The entire country will be tuned in.
He rolled down his window. The blast of cold air snaked around his neck and made him shiver—exactly what he needed. He had to cool down before he did something he was not yet prepared for, something he would later regret.
Enjoy your final hours, Roxxann Dixon. You may soon suffer a crushing blow to your life’s ambitions.
THIRTY-FIVE
Vail walked out of Fit1! feeling refreshed, clean, and, at least for now, invigorated. The exercise had sharpened her mind and given her a renewed sense of focus. They each downed nutrition bars Dixon had in her gym bag and were now headed to meet with the AVA board president.
Once she had turned onto Highway 29, Dixon said, “I thought George was kind of cute.”
“Really?” Vail faced the side window and watched the wineries pass to her right. “He didn’t do anything for me.”
Dixon laughed. “Well I can tell you that Jimmy wanted to do something for you.”
Vail chuckled. “Yeah he did. Did I blow him off properly?”
“That watch thing was a bit obvious.”
Vail feigned innocence. “Was I wrong? We’re on a schedule.” She smiled. “But seriously. Are you