Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [59]
“Someone lost?” she asked.
It was a long moment before he responded. Then, finally, he said, “We seem to be having a problem with Genna’s signal.”
“Genna’s still in Wyoming?”
“Yes. Before she left, we inserted a device in the heel of one of her shoes so we could keep track of her while she was in Reverend Prescott’s compound.”
“And the signal is lost?”
“The signal hasn’t moved in three days.”
“Maybe she took her shoes off. . . .”
“They’re having record snowfalls out there right now. It’s unlikely my wife is walking around barefoot.”
The phone rang again.
“Anything else?” he asked, his hand on the phone.
“No.” She stood to leave. “Listen, John, if there’s anything I can do . . . I could go back to Wyoming, I could see what I can—”
He shook his head, waved her off, turned his back, and took his call.
“Thanks, Annie, for coming in to meet me today,” Will said as he parked his car near the edge of the park.
“I’m sorry I don’t have more time,” she apologized, “but you sounded so worried on the phone.”
He passed her the bag of sandwiches they’d picked up at the local drive-through. She opened it and searched for her selection.
“I guess I should just get to the point.” He ran one hand through his hair. “Miranda and I paid a visit to Joshua Landry the other day.”
He explained why they believed Landry could be a focus of Channing’s anger, then handed her copies of several of Channing’s letters. She read through the first few while she unwrapped her chicken sandwich and nibbled on it.
“Well, I’d say that Landry certainly did push Channing’s buttons,” she said when she was finished reading.
“So you think he could be a target?”
“Oh, yes. Channing was clearly angry with him. There’s no mistaking that. Channing even asked him to retract several statements Landry made in the book, and when he refused, he all but threatened him.” Annie paused to take another bite, chewed slowly, then said, “But you figured that out for yourself.”
“Miranda and I did, yes.”
“So what is it that you really wanted to ask me?”
“There’s one more letter you need to see.” From the inside of his jacket pocket, he withdrew an envelope, which he passed to her. “Read this.”
She did, then looked up when she was finished, and said, “Channing was really angry with this woman—this woman police officer—when he wrote this, wasn’t he?”
“I don’t think it was a police officer,” he told her. “I think it was a woman FBI agent.”
Annie raised a questioning brow. “Anyone we know?”
“Miranda interviewed him right about the time he’s referencing in that letter. She apparently rattled him enough that he moved on, disappeared. She’d tried to bring him back in for more questioning, but he couldn’t be located.”
“So you think that maybe Miranda might be the woman he’s referring to here? And could therefore be Channing’s number three?”
“I’m asking you what you think. You’re the one who has made a career of understanding these personalities. And you met Channing. You’re the only person I know who spent time with him, talked to him.”
She tapped the folded letter on her crossed knee.
“What you want to know is, do I think Channing gave Miranda’s name to Lowell?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s look at what we learned about him from the Mary Douglas case. You’ve read the reports yourself, Will. Channing was a very organized killer. Took all his gear with him. Had his victims staked out ahead of time, knew where they lived, when they left in the morning, when they arrived home at night. He left very little to chance.”
“Except he failed to properly identify his first victim.”
“Yes, a failure that resulted in his killing three women more than he’d planned. Not that I think he regretted that.” She shook her head. “Actually, I think it may have amused him, in an ‘oh, silly me’ sort of way.”
“Do you think he would have remembered Miranda?”
Annie smiled. “Will, you’re a man. You tell me. How often does a man meet a woman like Miranda? How likely is he to forget?”
“That’s pretty much what I was thinking.