Got the Look (14 page)

No, of course not. But here's what nags at me. Whenever I look back and wonder why I never even suspected that she was married, the thing that amazes me most is how she managed to avoid talking about herself.

You dated all that time and never had a deep conversation?

Yeah, plenty of them. But with Mia, it was never about where she came from. It was about where she wanted to go. Hopes and dreams, that kind of thing.

Girl stuff, said Theo.

If that's what you want to call it. But

But what?

Jack didn't want to get into the scar on her leg, the night of her birthday when their first attempt at lovemaking turned into Jack holding her in his arms until she fell asleep. I just don't have many details about her. Sure, I have a general idea that she grew up in Venezuela, but I couldn't give you the name of a city or even a state. I don't know how many brothers and sisters she has, whether her parents are alive or dead, what jobs she used to have. Don't you think that's weird?

Not really. Friend of mine eloped in Las Vegas and didn't know his bride was adopted till he came home from the honeymoon and met the snow-white parents.

Leave it to you to come up with an extreme example.

Just trying to help. My take on it: Mia was probably being coy so you couldn't find out she was married.

That was my initial thought, said Jack. But now I'm starting to lean in a different direction.

She hiding something specific in her past, you think?

He gave Theo a serious look. I'm thinking she might be hiding her entire past.

What, like a secret agent?

No. I come back to that word - protecciA3n. Maybe it's because I'm a criminal defense lawyer and a former prosecutor, but when someone is vague about their past and starts using words like protecciA3n, I start to think about a very specific kind of protection.

Something tells me you ain't talking condoms.

Not even close.

You mean witness protection?

The receptionist approached and interrupted, hands clasped demurely behind her back, bony ankles together, her soft tone bordering on the obsequious. Gentlemen, I am so very sorry, but Mr. Bailey had to leave the office on an emergency. I'm afraid he won't be able to see you today.

Or any other day, I'm sure, said Theo.

The receptionist seemed befuddled, her puckered lips in search of words.

Theo started toward the elevator. Come on, Swyteck. We've got some protection issues to sort out.

Chapter
18

The meeting of the multijurisdictional task force was held in a brightly lit conference room at the Palm Beach County Sheriff's Office, PBSO for short. Andie sat at the head of the long rectangular table, flanked by senior supervisory agent Peter Crenshaw and an FBI technical agent. To keep things manageable, she'd requested that each state and local agency working the Salazar kidnapping or the Ashley Thornton kidnapping-murder send no more than four representatives to tonight's gathering. To Andie's left was Major Lew Collins, head of the PBSO's Investigative Services, and his three subordinates in charge of the Special Investigations Bureau, the Violent Crimes Bureau, and Technical Services, the latter being a rather unglorious title that covered everything from crime-scene analysis to serology. Filling out the right side of the table were representatives of the Palm Beach Police Department, the Florida State Troopers, and the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. Directly opposite Andie, at the short end of the rectangle, sat Sheriff McClean (the boat driver on the night Ashley Thornton's body was recovered from Devil's Ear) and his two lead investigators. Reps from the Miami-Dade Police Department and the City of Miami Police took the extra seats in the back. They were new to the team, their involvement triggered by the kidnapper's choice of downtown Miami for the proof-of-life exchange.

Thank you all for coming, said Andie. We have a number of developments to bring you up to date on.

She rose and went to a big map of Florida that nearly covered the entire wall behind her. A blue pushpin marked the suspected point of abduction for Ashley Thornton in Ocala - suspected because her horse returned to the barn without her, and a field examination was unable to identify the exact point of attack along the wooded eight-mile trail. Another blue pushpin marked a similar approximation in Palm Beach for Mia Salazar, who vanished while jogging. Numbered yellow pushpins identified specific locations that the kidnapper had probably visited. Number five - the highest number - marked the Kwick-e Copy Center in Miami.

A single red dot on the Sante Fe River punctuated the recovery of Ashley Thornton's body.

As you can see, said Andie as she pointed to the map, the kidnapper's zone of comfort continues to expand geographically.

Assuming we're talking about one kidnapper, said Crenshaw.

Andie paused, not sure what her senior colleague was up to. That's correct, Peter. We continue to believe the person who kidnapped and murdered Ashley Thornton also kidnapped Mia Salazar.

Just so we all understand that this is an assumption on our part, said Crenshaw.

Yes, we're making it based on the evidence gathered so far, said Andie. Which leads me to the first order of business: new evidence. We've prepared a notebook for everyone, which most of you have perused by now. The first new item is a composite sketch of the suspect prepared from information obtained from the desk attendant at the copy center and the hired homeless man who served as the kidnapper's messenger.

Major Collins from the PBSO opened his book to the sketch, then scowled. Looks like that old rendering of the Unabomber - the one of that man in a hood and dark sunglasses that yielded exactly zero useful leads in seventeen years.

Andie said, It's not great, you're right. But until we nail down something better, we do plan to go with it.

Weren't there any security cameras in that copy center? asked Collins.

There were, said Andie. But it was store policy not to turn them on. Some of their Internet-surfing customers threatened to sue for invasion of privacy.

Ah, the time-honored constitutional right to porn, said another officer. Thank you, ACLU: making the world a safer place for serial killers and child molesters alike.

A light chorus of combined chuckles and grumbles followed - chumbling, Andie called it, something cops seemed to do a lot of.

Andie said, I also want to update you on the scuba search. The fact that Ashley Thornton's body was found inside the Devil's Ear led us to believe that her kidnapper was not only a licensed scuba diver, but someone with specialized training in cave diving, perhaps even CDS-qualified. That's Cave Dive Section, National Speleological Society. They certify cave divers and instructors. Obviously, cave divers would be a narrower field of suspects.

People cave-dive without proper training every day, said Sheriff McClean. That's why we've pulled so many bodies out of the aquifer over the years.

You're exactly right, said Andie. That's why we did our research against the broader nationwide list of certified divers. Fortunately, we didn't have to reinvent the wheel, since this same information is of serious interest to our antiterrorism people since nine-eleven.

Yeah, except Joe Terrorist probably isn't going to be on the list, since strapping a bomb to the bottom of a cruise ship isn't part of the Club Med certification program.

Another round of chumbles followed.

You raise a good point, said Andie. This task force faces a similar problem. We're not looking for a terrorist, obviously. But our kidnapper could have learned to dive in a foreign country, or rather than seek formal certification he may just have kept a logbook, which is sufficient in some places. Still, we figured it was worthwhile to cross-check a list of certified divers with a list of convicted felons.

Let me guess, said Collins. You discovered that a lot of divers like to smoke pot.

Andie said, Anyone who's been to the Florida Keys could probably tell you that much. But more important, your notebook contains personal data and the last available photograph of certified divers convicted of similar crimes in the last seven years. Kidnapping, obviously. Sexual assault, battery. Of course, we factored out anyone who is dead or presently incarcerated.

Collins thumbed through the considerable stack. Why not just give us the phone book?

It's not as intimidating as it looks, said Andie. The first section is the entire list. We then took that raw data and compared it with Quantico's psychological profile of the kidnapper. Age was a defining characteristic. Education another. The bottom line is, we're left with fewer than a hundred subjects of interest.

So, you think one of these hundred or so men in this notebook kidnapped Ashley Thornton and Mia Salazar?

It's very possible, said Andie.

Assuming the same man kidnapped both women, said Crenshaw.

Major Collins shot Crenshaw a curious look. That's about the third or fourth time you've said that - Assuming it's the same kidnapper.' Is the FBI suggesting there might be two different kidnappers at work here?

That's not what our profilers are telling us, said Andie.

Crenshaw shook his head and said, But when you've been around for thirty years, you know that profilers are sometimes wrong.

Several others nodded. It didn't take much to convince the locals that the FBI's most elite unit was, at worst, a bunch of know-it-alls, or at best, certified workaholics who spread themselves too thin.

Major Collins said, I'd like to hear more. What makes you think the experts up in Quantico might have missed something?

Andie was about to interject in an effort to keep the group focused, but Crenshaw was all too eager to run with his theory. Be glad to, he said as he rose from his chair. First thing you have to look at are the glaring differences between the two kidnappings. For example, in the case of Mia Salazar, the ransom demand went to the FBI as well as the family. It only went to the family in the Thornton case.

That's accounted for in the profile as an increasing appetite for notoriety, said Andie.

I'm only getting started, said Crenshaw. In the Thornton case, the kidnapper never revealed himself to anyone. Now all of a sudden he's out in the street dressed like a homeless guy, renting computers and hiring street people to piss on public benches. And that urination stunt? Too cute, too clever. Didn't see any of that in the first kidnapping.

It's not uncommon for serial criminals to grow bolder over time, said Andie.

True, said Crenshaw. But if a profile is to have any validity at all, we have to assume that the work of a sociopath reveals something about his psychology that is virtually unchangeable. It's his personality, or signature, if you will. And that's where this single-kidnapper profile falls apart in my book.

How so, specifically? asked one of the officers.

Crenshaw seemed grateful for the question, like a teacher who's finally captured the class. Torture of the victim. The autopsy protocol revealed nothing on Ashley Thornton's body to indicate she was harmed in any way before she was murdered. As we know from today's CD-ROM - and of course, if we assume that Mia Salazar is still alive - it's a whole different ball game with his current victim.

Sheriff McClean said, You don't consider it torture to drag a woman into an underwater cave, remove her breathing apparatus, and leave her there to drown?

I call that a cruel, heinous homicide. That's different from a guy who inflicts nonlethal wounds for the fun of it so that he can keep his victim around for another day of fun and games. It's a subtle difference, but it's a difference.

The team fell quiet, as if in need of a moment to ponder the distinction. Andie said, Let's take a break. There's plenty more to cover. See you all in ten.

The group splintered into smaller clusters of conversation, some drifting toward the coffee machine, others headed for the restrooms. Andie followed Crenshaw down the hall and pulled him aside. It was just the two of them standing in an alcove near the drinking fountain, far enough from the others not to be overheard.

What are you trying to do in there? said Andie.

What do you mean? said Crenshaw.

This two-kidnapper theory you're suddenly pushing on the task force. Where did that come from?

Are you telling me that I don't have a right to my own opinion?

It would have been nice of you to run it by me beforehand.

I'm running it by you now. What do you think?

I think - She stopped herself.

Crenshaw answered for her. You think I'm a pain in the ass, don't you?

She didn't say anything.

Okay, you're right. I am. I'll be the first to admit that I'd be a profiler in Quantico right now if it weren't for my so-called attitude problems. But consider this. If someone like me can make it onto the short list of candidates for the ISU, it must mean only one thing. Yes, I'm a pain in the ass. But I'm usually right.

Andie watched in silence as he turned and headed back toward the conference room. She couldn't say she liked him, but she couldn't dismiss him, either.

Like it or not, Crenshaw had given her one more thing to think about.