Split Second - Catherine Coulter [78]
Lucy felt her stomach churn.
“You gonna come up and nail these two, right?”
“Yes,” Savich said. “Tonight.”
“Good. Imagine if Linda had settled in for a while. I’ll betcha Ted Bundy’s daughter would have been right over, buying her a drink.”
When Ms. Spicer finished her sushi, she got her requested tour of the crime lab, charming every tech within distance of that huge smile of hers. Savich arranged to have her driven back to Baltimore. “Remember,” he told her as he shook her hand, “you don’t know any of us if you see us, all right? It’s best if no one else in the bar knows about us, either. We’ll let you know when to expect us.”
“Zip my lips,” Kelly said.
“Okay,” Coop said a few minutes later in the CAU conference room. “We’re got Kirsten’s look du jour—red blazer; black jeans and black boots; short, spiky red hair. Practically an advertisement. I surely hate to say this, though. If Bruce Comafield is with her, none of us can be in the bar tonight. He’ll recognize us, and that’ll blow the deal.”
“And that could lead to people getting hurt if they lose it,” Lucy said. “That’s our bigger problem—taking them down in a public place without anyone getting hurt.”
Savich said, “The plan will be for you and Coop to take her down before she ever goes through the bar door. I’m thinking Sherlock will set up at the bar, nursing a beer, in case she makes it inside.”
Lucy said, “We gotta hope for Comafield, too. What a piece of work he must be, Dillon, if he’s not as insane as she is. Did you reach Lansford?”
“He’s still in the air, but I was able to Skype him with the help of the flight crew. He was at first disbelieving, but once I convinced him on the phone, he nearly blew. He calmed down enough to say he’d believed Bruce hardly knew Kirsten. He admitted Bruce was gone many nights, and that was occasionally inconvenient, but he was smart and efficient, and so he let him get away with it. Bruce told him he had a sick mother and had to visit her whenever possible. Cancer, he said, terminal. I didn’t bother to tell him that Bruce Comafield’s mother is alive and well in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and owns two flower shops. I gave Mr. Lansford specific dates, the nights Kirsten murdered the five women. He said he’d have their employment records checked to see if Bruce was away on those nights.
“The rest we pretty much knew already. Bruce had been with him for four years, first as his executive assistant, and when Mr. Lansford decided to go into politics, Bruce flashed his political science degree, gave him a couple of recommendations, went right along with him. He said Bruce wasn’t all that hot as a personal assistant, but he was an excellent aide, which is why he fired him when his political future tanked. Then he remembered it was Bruce who suggested he get Kirsten a black Porsche for her birthday, and that made him even madder. I was feeling a bit sorry for him. This was a big blow, after all. Then he lit into the FBI again. He’d been royally used and betrayed by Director Mueller leaking everything to the press.”
“Did you hang up on him?”
“Tempted, but no. I’m convinced he had no clue about Bruce’s relationship with Kirsten. Maybe he can still help us.” Savich looked over at Lucy. She looked distracted, thinking about something else entirely, as she had at times last night. Of course, her grandfather, the ring. She’d been through a lot, and he knew she would work it out in her own way. The question was, could they count on her being all there tonight?
“Are you sure you’re up for this trip to Baltimore with us tonight?”
“Of course I am. I’m revved about it.”
“Lucy, I believe you told Coop he didn’t want to be around you. What did you mean?”
Savich imagined Lucy would take a strip off Coop when she was alone with him again. She looked past his left shoulder at Coop, fidgeted, finally said, “I, well, I told him I had stuff to do, Dillon, and I didn’t need him