The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [108]
Without a word, Vail turned and headed into the study, her compatriots following behind. She pulled on another pair of latex gloves, got down on her hands and knees, and started searching. Since it wasn’t the actual file, but loose papers she had organized into piles, it was more difficult to arrive at an accurate accounting.
“Well?” Bledsoe asked. “Is it here or not?”
Vail kept pushing papers aside, moving to another section of the floor and sifting through other piles. Finally, she sat cross-legged on the floor and slumped back against the futon. “It’s gone, along with the victimology analyses, VICAP forms, and. . . .”
“And what?” Bledsoe asked.
Vail swallowed hard. “The crime scene photos.”
There was silence. Finally, Robby spoke. “Karen, we really need to report this.”
She sat up suddenly. “Are you out of your mind? You’ll destroy two careers, and mine is already on the edge of the cliff.”
Robby sat down on the floor next to her. In a soft voice, he said, “Karen, this is bad. Very bad. It’ll affect this entire investigation.”
“The only one conducting this investigation is the task force,” Bledsoe bellowed. “The three of us here makes half the group. Besides, I run the damn thing and I already know what happened. Tell anyone, Bureau or PD, and it’ll be a lynching. With Thurston’s nose in everything, he’ll suspend me, for Christ’s sake. My guess, Robby, is that you won’t stand a rat’s chance in a pool of cyanide of escaping the purge. And then the whole investigation will hit the brakes. No. I say we keep this little . . . situation between the three of us.”
Vail looked at her ethical colleague, he looked at her, and then they both looked at Bledsoe.
Everyone nodded and the contract was sealed.
forty-six
The agreement having been reached, the question begging for an answer was Vail’s connection to the offender. They stood there, hands on hips, the issue riding on the air between them.
“Whatever the answer is, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here. He knows where you live, where to find you.”
Vail clenched her jaw. “I’m not leaving. I’m not letting him run me out of my house.” She turned and walked away. “I won’t do it.”
Bledsoe shared a look with Robby.
“She can stay at my place,” Robby said. “I’ve got an extra room.”
The corners of Vail’s mouth curled upwards, but she turned slightly so Bledsoe wouldn’t see. That was funny, Robby. She knew Bledsoe was too good a cop not to suspect there was something between them.
“Yeah, good, whatever,” Bledsoe said.
“Okay,” Robby said. “Go pack some things and I’ll—”
“No.” Vail said it firmly, as if it was the final word on the topic.
But Bledsoe was not to be denied his say. “We made a pact on this break-in. But the deal’s off if you’re going to put your life in danger without good reason. And this isn’t a good reason.”
Robby nodded. “I agree. Draw your line in the sand with this guy some other way.”
Vail let her arms fall to her sides. “Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll stay at your place. For a few days.”
“And I’ll get someone in civvies posted near Jonathan’s room. Not sure how I’ll explain it, but I’ll find a way.”
“Then we’re back to the main question,” Robby said. “Your connection to the offender.”
Vail shrugged and headed down the hall to the study. Most of the papers had been sprayed with ninhydrin and carefully stacked. “Can you get these processed?”
Bledsoe shook open a plastic bag. “I’ll have a guy at the lab do it for me. He owes me some favors for a private job I did for him. Helped him out big time in his divorce settlement. He’ll run them, no questions, no strings.” He placed the stack of papers in the bag, along with the memory card from her camera.
“Cool,” Robby said.
Vail was leaning against her desk, staring at the wall above the futon, where the offender’s message was scrawled. “It’s in the,” she mumbled.
Robby rolled his head from side to side. “He didn’t write it in blood this time.” He leaned closer. With