Deadly Dreams (14 page)

“Edwards.”

Risa studied Nate as he moved on to the next pair of detectives. He’d managed to shave that morning. If she had to choose, she preferred the look he’d sported yesterday. The stubble had added a touch of the uncivilized. The unfamiliar. Today he was solidly back in command. The same controlled, if slightly impatient, detective who’d shown up on her mother’s doorstep a couple mornings ago.

“Nothing in their schools, for sure. We checked their records. Tull and Christiansen graduated from the same police academy, but years apart. None of them pulled an instructor stint in the academy, either. Didn’t want to go at Christiansen’s widow, with the funeral coming up. But his obit lists the United Methodist on Arch Street. Each of the ceremonies has been held in different churches.”

“Hoy, what’d you and Mendall find?”

But mention of the upcoming funeral distracted Risa for a moment. The ceremony would have a massive department turnout. As such, it presented an almost irresistible scene for the suspect.

Her attention turned belatedly to the detective speaking. A pair was walking up to Nate. The speaker held two DVDs in his hand. “This may be something that will help. Mind if we use the TV?” They continued to the unit in the corner of the room as the one continued talking. “So Christiansen’s wife said he was running to the convenience store to get milk, right? Surveillance tapes had him inside the store. Got a few other customers in there, too, but no one in the parking lot. But here, I’ll show you.”

Several minutes passed as the two of them fiddled with the TV and DVD player. Finally the original speaker stabbed a finger at the screen. “Plenty of activity out front of the parking lot, right?” An older man walking a Boston terrier that bore a startling resemblance to his owner. A shaggyhaired skateboarder. A guy with his arm around a woman, both of them in hoodies, and in the midst of what looked like a disagreement. A figure in a Windbreaker, hood pulled up over his head passed. “So a minute goes by.” He began the recorder again. “Two minutes.” The time stamp from the original tape was displayed at the bottom of the screen. “Now look.” The DVD was paused again. “See that?”

Risa pushed away from the wall, straining to see. Nate was partially blocking her view by the position he’d taken up before the screen. “The shadow? Does it move?”

The detective started the recorder again. “It surely does. Right there.”

“I’ll be damned.” A murmur rippled through the room. And although Risa hadn’t seen the shadow they’d spoken of, she saw the back car door of a late model Malibu ease open. Close again. A moment before a customer exited the store and headed to a short-boxed pickup truck.

“For the record, Christiansen was driving a 2010 navy Chevy Malibu that night. License plate matches the vehicle we see in the lot.” Nate gave the two detectives a grim smile. “Good work. You checked the traffic cameras on his route there and back?”

“We did,” the shorter, rounder of the two detectives put in. “Funny thing, he took a different route from the convenience store. One that didn’t pass any nearby streets with those cameras on them.”

“And one that didn’t lead home,” Nate put in. “Okay, let’s center on the convenience store and fan outward. Get a map of all the traffic cameras in that area, and plot out which ways he could have taken to surpass all of them and get to that park. Maybe the car passed some other camera that caught a glimpse of it. An ATM camera or one mounted at a store.”

“Has Christiansen’s car been found yet?” It was Cass’s question.

“No.” The Captain spoke for the first time. “We’ve got his and Parker’s vehicle descriptions flagged and nothing has shown up yet. The unknown subject might have disposed of them in the Delaware River. Or he may have abandoned them in a part of town where he could be assured no report would ever be filed.”

Risa had had the same thought. Why take the chance of possibly being seen running a car into the river when there were a number of areas of the city where one could just leave it and walk away? The vehicle would be stripped, stolen, or land in a chop shop in a matter of hours. Any of the scenarios would destroy whatever trace evidence the UNSUB might have left behind.

Nate wrapped up the briefing by running through the assignments. It left her wondering what he had planned for them to work on today. She had a few ideas, but she still didn’t feel like she knew him well enough to predict how he’d react to her suggesting them. Tiptoeing around fragile law enforcement egos had to be one her least favorite aspects of her job.

She waited for the detectives to shuffle out of the room. A couple of them gave her a quizzical look, as if wondering what her role there was. With her visitor ID, they’d know she wasn’t on the force. And McGuire had made no effort to introduce her to the group and explain her place on the team. Maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t sure he was comfortable with her presence on the task force himself, although he’d never given any indication that he resented her.

Of course, knowing of her personal relationship with his captain, he’d be careful to make nice, lest he jeopardize his standing as lead investigator on the task force.

She made her way over to where he was conversing with Morales. The captain shifted to make room for her to join them. “I assume you’ll be talking to the ME today,” he was saying.

“I haven’t gotten a call from Liz, but I figure I’ve given her enough time to come up with some answers. I plan to drop by the morgue this morning on my way to see Christiansen’s widow.”

Eduardo nodded. “That’s a good idea. You can be damn sure his wife will have plenty of questions.”

“Then let’s hope I get a few answers for her.”

Risa fell into step beside him as they left the room. “So it sounds like you’ve got an agenda worked out for today.”

He took a package of gum from his pocket and held it up questioningly. When she shook her head, he took a piece out and replaced the package. “Couple things so far. You have something in mind?”

They entered the squad room and the noise level rose accordingly. She swerved in the direction of his office. “I’d like to follow up on those guys that popped on the search yesterday.”

“I did a little more digging on that last night.”

But she was focused on his early words. It took effort to keep her voice mild. “Last night?”

“Yeah, I came back to work around seven thirty.” Seeing her expression, he raised a hand placatingly. “I know I said I’d call you, but you neglected to leave your cell number with me.”

And he’d neglected to ask for it, she thought wryly. Her bad. If she wanted to be kept in the loop on this investigation, she was clearly going to have to make all the overtures. She put her palm out.

He looked at it. Then at her. “You decided you wanted gum after all?”

“Give me your cell phone. I’ll log in the number.”

They’d come to his office. Without waiting for him, she opened the door and walked inside.

“I’ll do it. What is it?” He took the cell from his pocket. She took it from his hand.

“Don’t want to take the chance of you punching it in wrong,” she said blandly.

“I didn’t deliberately exclude you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She dropped in a chair and quickly added her number to his contacts. Then she took out her phone and did the same for his number. Handing his back to him, she said, “There. Now there won’t be any excuse next time.”

His eyes gleamed. “I keep late hours but I don’t expect you to live the case. You’ll have to let me know when you’ve had enough. Given your unofficial capacity and all.”

She cocked a brow at the arrogance in the words. She had a feeling they were the first truly unguarded ones he’d spoken to her. “My capacity on this case won’t be an issue.” At least not for him. The issues it was causing
her
, while she slept, would continue whether she was key to the investigation or not. Experience had taught her that.

But her involvement would make them increase in frequency. In intensity. The acknowledgment had her throat drying. The only thing that had ever made the dreams worthwhile was using them to bring about justice. For years she’d taken solace from that.

She just wasn’t certain that was true any longer.

Risa shifted her knees out of the way so he could pass en route to his desk. “So catch me up. What’d you accomplish last night? Did you hear anything from the arresting officers regarding ID on the Juicy trio?”

He cracked a smile at that. She stared, surprised. It softened his features and made him more approachable. And devastatingly attractive. Who would have guessed that Nate McGuire harbored a lone masculine dimple? Or that it could provoke such a maddeningly female response in her?

“Catchy. Sounds like a musical group.” He sat down and rifled through a stack of papers on his desk until he found the three depicting the hits he’d found yesterday. “Nothing from any of the arresting officers yet. But I took these pics by Crowley’s address last night. You can imagine his enthusiasm when he saw me again.” His expression said the man’s lack of welcome bothered him not at all. “He ID’d this guy as the one he scored the weed from, Dwayne Jersey.” He turned around the photo in question so she could see it. “And the way he was talking, I got the impression he knows him a whole lot better than he let on to us yesterday. I also found out that one of the three, Fox, is a guest of the state and will be for another six years.”

Her expression must not have looked pacified, because his eyes gleamed. “Then I combed through the ViCAP files I got back until my eyes bled. Still wishing you’d spent the night here?”

She ignored the question. “Once we make a swing by the morgue, maybe we’ll have enough to resubmit a request to ViCAP.”

“I need something that will narrow down the search.” He thumped his index finger against the thick file folder on his desk. “You can take a look at these if you want. A pair of fresh eyes can’t hurt. I only got a couple dozen hits the first time I submitted a request, so when I resubmitted I cast a wider net.”

Risa nodded. In the interest of thoroughness, she always made the first ViCAP request fairly broad. In the beginning of a serial case, one never knew which details of the crimes would change. Which ones were part of the offender’s signature and which were merely enacted as part of his MO. “I’d like to go over them.” Sometimes something would jump out at her, some fairly innocuous detail that matched an element from the dream. Something that might be hard to explain to her colleagues but which would have her focusing on a certain subject more thoroughly. “I’d like a copy of the case file, too. Include the ViCAP requests in it, crime scene photos, and updated briefings as they come in. I often work on the profile at night from home. Those details will change as we acquire more information on the subject.”

He was already shaking his head. “I’ll have a copy made, but it stays here. And when you leave at night, it’ll be locked in that file cabinet there.” He jerked his head in the direction of a battered metal government-issue piece sitting in the corner of the room. “The brass were clear on the need for keeping this investigation under wraps.”

Risa eyed him. His tone had been final, that hard jaw of his angled. Clearly he was used to not having his orders questioned. But she was a little out of practice at making nice on a case.

“That’s fine.” She kept her words mild as she took out her cell again. “I understand that you don’t have the authority to clear it.” Maybe that last verbal jab was a bit much, but there was something about his unshakeable air of command that had her wanting to jar it. Just a little. She quickly looked for a contact she’d recently added and rang the number. It was a moment before the call was answered.

“Eduardo.” Because she was looking, she saw the way Nate’s dark eyes heated and narrowed. “I’d like a copy of the case file, photos, updates from the briefings . . .” She stopped when the man immediately agreed to have one started for her. “I’m planning to work on the profile at night from home. Is that a problem? Thanks.”

There was a muscle ticking in his jaw. Probably came from being clenched so tightly. But he said nothing as he took the ViCAP folder and shoved it into his desk drawer and locked it.

The phone on his desk buzzed. Still without looking at her, he answered it, listened briefly, before saying, “Thanks for the heads-up.”

After a moment it became clear that he wasn’t going to share the details of the call with her. Risa’s mouth quirked. So there was temper beneath that professional surface. She’d suspected as much. And if she had the stray urge to discover what else lurked there, she’d firmly push it aside. She didn’t mix her personal and professional lives. Her one attempt at marriage had shown her what a recipe for disaster that was.

When the knock sounded at the door, Nate seemed to be expecting it. He rose, rounded the desk, and opened it.

“McGuire?” The man on the other side would have looked perfectly at home on the streets, with his baggy jeans, torn black T-shirt, and shaggy hair. A couple days’ growth of beard shadowed his jaw. But as Nate stepped aside to allow him to enter, Risa caught sight of the PPD detective’s shield clipped to the pocket of his shirt.

“Detective Randolph. I appreciate the face-to-face.”

The name had Risa straightening in her chair. She’d seen it on an arrest report just yesterday. They exchanged a handshake. Nate gestured toward her. “Marisa Chandler, outside consultant to the department on this case.”

Randolph’s gaze sharpened. “Consultant? What exactly do you do?”

Risa offered him a bland smile. “I consult.”

“I left you a message yesterday about a Javon Emmons.” Nate’s words had the detective’s attention returning to him. “We’re trying to run down a possible witness who goes by the name of Juicy. Sold someone a little pot in the park where we found the last victim.”

The man nodded. “Christiansen.”