Read Vail 01 - The 7th Victim Online

Authors: Alan Jacobson

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Vail 01 - The 7th Victim (27 page)

BOOK: Vail 01 - The 7th Victim
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Vail nodded, but she suspected her body language said otherwise as her gaze bounced around the room again.
 
“Don’t let the surroundings color your opinion of my skills. I live in Great Falls and my home is worth two million dollars. I drive a brand new Jag. But I keep my business overhead low because in criminal defense, fancy furniture and spacious conference rooms don’t do anything for the clientele I represent. It doesn’t ensure them of a
not guilty
verdict. And anything that doesn’t work for my client I get rid of. My sole focus is getting you off.”
 
She looked away again.
 
“I know that language is disagreeable to you, because you’re frequently on the other side of the table. But understand something. When you walk into that courtroom, you’re not Supervisory Special Agent Karen Vail, sworn FBI agent who devotes her life to catching bad guys and keeping society safe. You’re a woman accused of brutally assaulting your ex-husband, breaking his ribs and putting him in the hospital. They’re going to portray you as a tough, mean-spirited cop who’s trained in the use of deadly force, who has a short fuse and a chip on her shoulder. It’ll be my job to show the jury that’s not what you’re about. I’ll be painting a different picture. Point is, you need me. As of this moment, I’m your friend. Your best buddy. You’ll tell me everything and hold back nothing. Because when the dust settles, I won’t just be your best friend, I’ll be your only friend.”
 
Vail didn’t see any need to discuss the matter further. If he made his case in front of the judge as well as he had just made it to her, she was, truly, in good hands. She read through, and then signed, his fee agreement.
 
And it was suddenly evident how he was able to afford his two million dollar home and brand new Jaguar.
 
thirty
 
“I
waited for OPR for forty minutes.” Vail stood on the porch talking to Robby, smoking a Chesterfield she had bummed off Sinclair. “Enough time to sit in my office and think. Think about how screwed up everything is, what Gifford said. Then I got that email, and, well, that’s all I could think about till OPR showed up.”
 
Robby tilted his head. “What email?”
 
“Didn’t Bledsoe show it to you guys? I forwarded a screen shot of it to him.”
 
“Nah, he didn’t mention it. Who was it from?”
 
“Dead Eyes.”
 
“He sent you an email? You sure?”
 
“Pretty sure. I’ve got the lab working it, some sort of self-destructing message. It vanished right before my eyes. But I got a hard copy of it. Subject line read ‘It’s in the.’ Who else could know of that? We haven’t released that to the press, and if it was leaked we’d see it somewhere in some paper, not some obscure email outlining child abuse.”
 
“Child abuse?”
 
Vail stuck the cigarette between her lips, reached into her coat pocket, and handed Robby a folded copy of the message. “I thought Bledsoe would show it to everyone, but I should’ve made sure he got it. I’ve been a little . . . preoccupied. My follow-up’s been pretty shitty.”
 
Robby read through it, studied it a bit, then pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay, so this guy’s real fucked up.”
 
“I’m hoping for a more substantial analysis from BSU.”
 
He handed her back the email, which she folded into her pocket. “Any news on Jonathan?”
 
“Nothing. I wanted to go back there again, but I’m scared. I don’t think I could handle seeing him. I just. . . .” She tossed the butt to the ground and crushed it against the pavement with her heel. Swiped at a tear. “There’s just too much shit going on right now, Robby.”
 
He reached out and pulled her close. She didn’t resist. “I know.”
 
“I feel like I should be there, by his side, holding his hand, twenty-four/seven. But with everything on my plate, I’m afraid it would all come crashing down. That I’d fall apart. I need to stay busy, take my mind off things.”
 
“You can only do what you can do, Karen. My aunt used to say we have an emotional gas tank. When that tank fills up, it starts running out and spilling over. All it would take is a spark to make everything go up in flames. She said we should always try to keep the tank from getting full.”
 
“Emotional gas tank, huh? I guess these days I should be wearing a warning sticker on my back: Danger: highly combustible.” She sighed. “I’ve got to find a way of getting through this.”
 
“One day at a time, one issue at a time.” He tipped her chin back with a finger. “And I’ll be there every step of the way to help you through it.”
 
She smiled. “Thanks.” She pulled her overcoat around her body to ward off a chill. “I hired an attorney today. Jackson Parker. Excuse me. P. Jackson Parker.”
 
“I’ve heard of him. Good things, if you’re a skel.”
 
“That’s what he told me.”
 
“What’s the ‘P’ stand for?”
 
“Pompous.”
 
He laughed.
 
She sighed long and loud. “I need to get away, Robby, get reenergized.” He looked at her and she immediately knew what he was thinking. “Yes, I’m running away. But I know myself, and I know when I’ve reached my stress point. Getting out of town for a day will help.”
 
“Want some company?”
 
She sniffled. “Thanks, but I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while.”
 
“Where you gonna go?”
 
“Old Westbury.”
 
“As in Long Island?”
 
Vail looked out across the early afternoon sky. It was hazy and overcast, unsure if it should rain or shine. “It’s my mom’s place, where I grew up. I haven’t seen her in . . . well, too long. Our last couple conversations she seemed distracted and I’ve been meaning to pay her a visit, but. . . .” She waved a hand. “It’s about a five-hour drive. I can have a late dinner with her, stay the night, and get back here noonish.”
 
Robby looked down at her, thought about it a long moment. “Sure you don’t want some company? I could use a change of scenery myself. I’ll give you your space, I promise.”
 
“Really, I’ll be fine.”
 
“I know you will. But after all you’ve been through, that knock on the head, then being up all night, sure you want to make a five-hour drive alone?”
 
“Bledsoe will never let you go.”
 
“Does Bledsoe know? About the suspension?”
 
She shook her head. “I better go get it over with.”
 
 
BLEDSOE WENT THROUGH A STORM of emotions in a matter of minutes: from anger over Vail’s suspension and having gotten caught by Deacon’s lies to fury over what Deacon had done to Jonathan, to frustration over her request to leave town when they were in the middle of an active time-sensitive investigation. But when Vail gave Bledsoe her reasons, he reluctantly agreed.
 
Before leaving, she asked him if he’d seen the message she’d sent him, but he said he hadn’t read his email in days. She handed him the folded copy of Dead Eyes’s missive, then gave him a quick rundown of how it self-destructed. Bledsoe wanted his people working on it, too, but he knew there was nothing they could do at this point. He checked in with his department, and, sure enough, without the coded routing information, they had to wait for the results of the data recovery efforts the Bureau was conducting on the hard drive.
 
“What if he sends you another one while you’re gone?”
 
“The lab is screening my unit’s email before they release it to us. Anything comes through, we’ll know about it. They’ve got instructions to notify you immediately.”
 
He gently squeezed her shoulder. “See you when you get back.” Vail glanced at Robby, then walked out.
 
As the door closed, Bledsoe looked up from a file he’d started reading and noticed Robby was still standing in front of him. “You need something, Hernandez?”
 
“I was thinking I should go with her, make sure she’s all right.”
 
“Karen’s a tough cookie. She doesn’t need a bodyguard, believe me.”
 
“Normally, I’d agree, but—”
 
“I’m already one guy short.” He lifted the file back to his face. “I’d have to have my head examined if I let two of you go.”
 
Robby cleared his throat but did not move. Bledsoe lowered the folder. “What?”
 
“She’s been through a lot of stuff the past few days, assaulted, arrested, thrown in jail—”
 
“I know the story, Hernandez.”
 
“And she didn’t sleep much last night. You really want her driving five hours alone? We’d be back tomorrow around noon. Not a big deal.”
 
“I’ll decide what’s a big deal and what’s not. Of course I don’t want Karen driving herself. Hell, I don’t want her going because I need her.” He dropped his eyes to the report. “But that’s just the way it is.”
 
“Well, then this is the way this is: I’m taking some personal time. You don’t like it, take it up with my sergeant.”
 
Bledsoe felt the blood rushing to his head as Robby turned and walked out. Tossed the file across the room, took a deep breath, then leaned on the table. “Beautiful.”
 
ROBBY JOINED VAIL outside by her car. “Well?”
 
“We’re good,” Robby said. “Let’s go.”
 
She hiked her brow. “Bledsoe is full of surprises.”
 
“We’ll be back tomorrow at noon. Not a big deal.”
 
They took Robby’s car and headed up I-95 before switching onto I-495 toward Baltimore. They drove in silence for the first couple hours, which was fine by Vail, since she needed the quiet, and Robby was determined to keep his promise of giving her space. Finally, she fell asleep with her head against the side window and slept until they neared the Queens Midtown Tunnel.
 
Vail sat up and rubbed her eyes, then looked around. “How long have I been out?” It was dark and the lights of nearby Manhattan twinkled in the early evening haze.
 
“Couple of hours. We’re making good time.”
 
“Sorry I abandoned you. The lull of the highway put me out.”
 
“Figured you needed it.”
 
She pulled down the visor and peered into the mirror. “I look awful.”
 
“You never did get back to your place, did you?”
 
“I’m looking forward to a long shower at my mom’s.”
 
The traffic slowed a bit as they approached the tunnel. Getting through the city wasn’t as bad as they had thought, and half an hour later they were driving down the street where Emma Vail lived. Vail thought of how long it’d been since she had last been here. Too long. Worst of all, her mother hadn’t visited her, either, meaning they hadn’t seen each other in over a year.
Shame on me.
 
“There,” she said, pointing to a house sunken below street level. “My best friend lived there. Andrea. We used to play together all the time. Drove our parents crazy.”
 
Robby slowed the car. “Eight nineteen, you said?”
 
“Yeah, right here.”
 
He pulled the car into the driveway and killed the lights. “Looks pretty dark,” he said, craning his neck. “Did you give her an idea of what time we’d be here?”
 
Vail opened the door and took in a lungful of the fresh night air. “I never called.”
BOOK: Vail 01 - The 7th Victim
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