One of the first suspects to come up for him was Bill. The guy had been uncanny in finding out about the murders ahead of time. He’d sort of insinuated himself into the investigation from the get-go. And there was a whole lot of stuff that didn’t quite add up.
But it was Bill. And that was ultimately what made Trey decide that it wasn’t him. Couldn’t be him. All the evidence pointed there, sure, but in a way, didn’t that seem strange? The killer was smart enough to keep a heart beating outside of a freaking body. Didn’t seem like Bill was that guy. Or, if he were that guy, that he’d be so careless about leaving evidence around that would point to himself.
Besides, Trey knew him. Well. Probably as well as anybody else, apart from the guy’s ex-wives. It just didn’t fit in with Bill’s personality. Sure, the guy was a bit gruff, and more than a little cynical. You didn’t do what Bill did everyday and not get a little tired of the crap that people could do to other people.
It wasn’t Bill.
For one crazy moment, Trey even started looking at people in his own precinct. One of the uniformed cops, maybe? That idiot M.E. Dr. Hutchinson? Captain Merle? But none of them really fit the evidence, besides the fact that Trey was pretty sure that Captain Merle never left his desk enough to be a really top-notch serial killer.
What could link a socialite, a tobacco sales manager, a lawyer, a writer, and a reporter? There just didn’t seem to be any link that made sense.
This was Darc’s domain. Darc could take these tangled threads of information and knit an epic tapestry out of them. That was what Trey’s partner did. And here was Trey, trying to figure it all out on his own. It was like a mentally handicapped kid trying to outthink Stephen Hawking while chained to a bed. Kinda unfair, if you asked Trey.
So, screw it. He wasn’t going to figure this out. At least not in the same way that Darc would. Instead, he’d try to feel his way forward. He’d decided it wasn’t Bill based off of nothing but his instinct. Maybe he could turn that around and let his gut decide who the killer was.
Well, this was fun.
A voice rang out in the apartment, and Trey jolted up, his chains yanking him back toward the bed. Man, he hated it when his kidnapper did that.
“Still haven’t figured it out, have you?” the voice crooned in its monotonous mechanical tone. “I know you want to know who I am. Of course you do. What’s funny is that it’s right in front of your nose, Detective Keane.”
Great. It wasn’t enough that Trey was trapped in a recycled holding cell and chained to a bed. Now he had to listen to his captor gloat. Trey was sick and tired of this kind of treatment. Father John had dismissed him, too.
“Hey! How about you lighten up with the whole bad-guy thing you got going on. You’re like every bad stereotype of a serial killer, dude. ‘It’s right in front of your nose.’ Seriously? You can’t think of a better taunt than that? I can give you something better than that by picking my butt.”
The voice went silent. Trey wasn’t shocked. His captor wasn’t much for fireside chats, and Trey hadn’t left him a lot of room to maneuver. It maybe wasn’t the greatest idea to piss off the guy that was threatening to kill you, but the guy hadn’t made a move yet and Trey was getting bored. Besides, his wrists and ankles were getting chafed.
But as much as Trey had tried to play it off, the killer’s statement had rankled. Clearly, there was something obvious that Trey was missing.
Someone who had a connection to every killing. Someone who Trey had met. Someone who Mala had more than likely met. Someone… someone…
And then it came to him. There was no bolt of lightning, no flash of recognition, just an awareness that grew until it had Trey nodding his head in acknowledgement.
He knew who the killer was.
And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
CHAPTER 24
Darc had known releasing Bill Harris was a calculated risk. The patterns had glowed with a green light that spoke of uncertainty. And yet, holding the private investigator had been a dead end, so the risk had seemed a reasonable one.
A reasonable risk that had proved unsuccessful on every level. Officer Daniels confirmed that the unmarked police car trailing the private investigator had lost contact with him. Now, instead of being able to follow Mr. Harris to Trey, the investigator was lost to them. No further opportunities to question or imprison him should new evidence appear. The P.I. was out of reach.
Leaving Darc and Mala with very little usable information. There was nothing to do but go back over all of the evidence gathered so far, beginning with all of the materials taken from Bill’s apartment.
But the threads of logic all pointed to speed being of the essence. Darc was left in a difficult situation where to move forward was to spend additional time that could lead more quickly to Trey’s demise.
Mala came back around the corner from the break room, Janey in tow. The little girl was eating string cheese and holding a juice box. Darc stared at the little one, the tapestry of logic pathways winding around her, caressing her face and playing through her hair. There was a connection here that they were trying to make, but Darc could not see it. It was more of the gray landscape that held back his understanding.
“No word on Bill’s car?” Mala queried. That had been the one avenue left to them—the hope that the investigator’s car might have LoJack.
“The vehicle registered to Bill Harris is a 1994 Honda Accord. No way to trace it.” Darc could see the tracings of light swirling in frustration. The car had been lost in the winding streets of a residential neighborhood. There were no traffic cams, ATMs, or shops with surveillance cameras anywhere nearby.
“There has to be something that we are overlooking,” Mala responded, her face creasing in what could be consternation or constipation. The increased connection between the gray landscape and Darc’s internal logic roads suggested the former. Interesting. There were additional benefits to the growing synthesis of these once-opposing paradigms.
“That is almost a certainty,” Darc confirmed. “But finding what we have overlooked will take time. Trey has been gone now for more than 18 hours. Every passing minute brings him closer to his probable end.”
Janey’s face fell, but then brightened, and she tugged on Mala’s sleeve. Mala leaned down, her face close to Janey’s.
“What is it?”
As Janey began gesturing, a series of movements that made little sense to Darc, a figure strode around the corner. It was Deputy Attorney Van Owen.
“Hey, guys,” he called out as he saw Darc and Mala. “I’ve got something that might help out.”
Mala stood. “What do you have?” She put her hand down to stop Janey from continuing to pull at Mala’s sleeve.
“Well, I called all of Bill Harris’s known clients. I’ve had some dealings with him in the past… he makes his way into court enough for me to know who his regulars are. I put some pressure on them, suggesting that this was a serious ongoing investigation and that it would be in their best interests to cooperate.”
“And what did you discover?” Darc prompted.
“That he had even more of a connection to the previous murders than we’d thought. Every single one of them was someone who had come up on the bad end of one of Bill’s investigations. The socialite had gotten herself photographed sleeping with one of Bill’s clients in a divorce case. Charity King did an exposé on private investigators in Seattle. Harris didn’t come out looking so good.” Bryce Van Owen rifled through the papers in his hands “And there’s a lot more in here.”
“That’s great,” Mala said, her tone less than energized. “But that puts us right back where we were. Bill’s in the wind.”
“Right. But I managed to find out about some stuff that he’s working on currently. And there’s a person that popped up. The next murder’s supposed to be someone that’s like a false witness or something, right?”
“How did you have that information?” Darc inquired. The threads of logic
snaked around, confused.
“Trey was keeping me updated. He told me about the whole thing before he was… kidnapped.” He shook his head and continued. “Anyway, there was a case he was involved in just a month and a half ago where the whole thing went south because of a witness Bill had brought in to testify on behalf of his client. The guy, name of Alex Warnick, threw the client under the bus, and the client lost his shirt in the divorce. Threatened Bill with everything from calling the Better Business Bureau to taking him to court. Bill went ballistic.”
The paths of light twisted around, bumping into the lawyer as he reorganized his papers. This could indeed be information that could help them to stay a step ahead of Bill Harris. Whether or not it would also lead them to Trey was less certain. It was, however, the most promising lead they had at the moment.
“I took the liberty of sending some unmarked cars out to Warnick’s place, but I thought you should know about it, in case you wanted to head over there yourself.” Van Owen smiled at Darc. Another come-on? Darc’s newfound interconnection suggested that was not the case. At least there was one result of this new integration that would result in less discomfort rather than more.
“That is an acceptable overstepping of your authority in this case,” Darc answered the lawyer. “And going to the apartment could allow me to collect additional information.” He turned to Mala. “Will you and Janey come along?”
As Mala began to answer, Van Owen stepped in. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to Dr. Charan for a bit.” When Darc turned back to lock eyes with the Deputy Attorney, he continued. “I just wanted to talk through another case with her. Got a witness who’s acting squirrely. Want to know if she’s going to be okay up on the stand.” He nodded to Mala. “Figured a psychologist might be able to help me out with that.”
Darc nodded, although he found that he was experiencing an irrational anger toward the lawyer. The explanation Bryce gave was sound, but Darc found that he did not want Mala to be anywhere near the Deputy Attorney.
But with no plausible reason for needing Mala with him, Darc turned to go. He noticed a sensation of heaviness in his chest that seemed to weigh him down as he moved toward the parking lot.
Is this how it felt to have a heavy heart? If that were the case, the arguments for a full emotional life seemed less and less convincing to Darc by the moment.
*
As Mala watched Darc leave, she felt a flutter in her stomach. There was a sense of disappointment in the tall detective leaving, as well as a sense of excitement that Bryce was near. An uncomfortable combination of sensations.
“So, you need my help?” Mala asked as she turned to speak with the handsome attorney. Bryce grinned at her, his smile increasing the disturbance in her gut. Bryce smelled of sandalwood and pine and a slight musk, a very masculine scent that was just strong enough to reach her nostrils, but not enough to repel her. She felt her skin heat up.
“Well, not exactly,” Bryce confessed. “I wanted to talk to you, and I needed an excuse to keep you here.”
Mala found that she was both flattered and angry at once. “But Darc might need me. Trey’s out there missing, and—”
Bryce held up a hand, cutting her off. “I know. And if I thought for a second that there was anything out there that could help get Trey back, I wouldn’t have kept you back. Truth is, this is a long shot. Darc knows it, but it’s pretty much the only thing we’ve got right now.”
It was true. Mala had even recognized it, at least on a subconscious level. If there had been a compelling reason for her to go, she would have left regardless of Bryce’s pleas. As she processed her own frustrations, Mala felt a tug on her sleeve. Janey.
The girl was pointing toward the break room, her gestures one step shy of urgent. She wanted another snack, maybe? Or she wanted Mala away from Bryce. That seemed the more likely explanation. Mala held up a finger for her to wait for a moment.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Mala asked.
The attorney shifted from one foot to another. “Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I like you. A lot.” Mala felt her flush grow, heating up her chest and face. The man certainly seemed to know how to get a reaction out of her. Bryce continued. “And I just wanted to make sure that I hadn’t pushed too hard the other day.”
“No. Not at all. You were the perfect gentleman.”
“Good,” Bryce replied. “Because I’d like to try it again. Maybe some lunch?” He glanced down at Janey, whose mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Both of you, of course. We could go back to my place and I could make you something. I’m a pretty good cook.”
Seeing the look on Janey’s face, Mala wasn’t sure she was up for a repeat performance of the coffeehouse disaster. But she was hungry, and the thought of Bryce’s company was far from unpleasant. As she contemplated, Janey grabbed her arm and began gesturing at Mala. She was miming drawing a picture. Janey was trying to communicate something to Mala. Probably something about how bad of an idea this was.
Still, better to get it all out now, before Janey could trash Bryce’s house. Mala opened her purse and began digging around for a scrap of paper and a pen, and as she did so, the picture Janey had drawn for her earlier fluttered to the floor. Janey scurried over to the paper and scooped it up, unfolding the drawing to see what it was.
When she could see the picture she had drawn, Janey’s face blanched. She gestured frantically for something to write with. Mala dug down and found an eyeliner pencil, which she pulled out of the purse and handed to the little girl.
Without taking a second to move to a table, Janey dropped to the floor and began drawing detective’s badges over and over again on the back of the drawing. She then turned the picture over and pointed toward the exit.
She wanted Darc to see the picture.
Now.
Mala turned back to Bryce. “I’m sorry. There’s something going on here that I don’t understand. I need to talk to Darc.”
“But… lunch? And he’s probably already…” Bryce stopped himself, gave a wry grin and shrugged. “Pushing again, huh?”
“Maybe just a little,” Mala conceded. Seeing his face fall, she added, “But it’s kind of cute.”
“Cute. Great. That’s just what a guy wants to hear.” He breathed a sigh. “Go on. Get out of here. And Janey?” he said, peering down at the girl. “Well played.”
Janey just glared back at him. It was probably better this way. Mala was pretty sure that the only way Bryce and she were going to connect was if Janey wasn’t present.
Which meant, as far as Mala was concerned, that it probably wouldn’t happen. She looked back to see Bryce heading out in the opposite direction, moving fairly quickly. He did have an awfully nice rear end.
Okay, so maybe a babysitter?
Mala glanced down at the top of Janey’s head. She would have to think on it.
*
Darc did not like to drive. He owned a vehicle that he almost never used, a Chrysler Sebring that was about five years old. Trey typically drove whenever they were working on a case together.
It wasn’t that Darc was incapable of driving. The mechanics were simple to master. But his attention remained fixed on the interweaving of the patterns of information that shifted about in his mind, which left little focus for more mundane tasks.
As Darc moved out toward the parking lot, he stopped one of the uniformed policemen to have him relay the address back to Mala. Darc had neglected to give her the information before he had left, and if her conversation with the lawyer did not take too long, he hoped that she would join him. Darc’s conversation with the policeman took longer than it should have—the man was not intelligent.
That had been a waste of time, and the fact that Darc had engaged in it was troubling. Mala could easily obtain the address on her own, seeing as how the man who had the information was the one with whom she was speaking. But Darc had made a point of making sure she had the address. He wanted her there.
&nb
sp; And there was no reason for it. Well, no logical reason for it.
Mala would be of little help doing any sort of assessment where a crime had not yet been committed. This was an endeavor with a low possibility of success. The individual might be the killer’s next victim, if the killer was Bill Harris. If the person did end up being the next victim, they might be able to apprehend Harris before he killed again. It was a series of low probabilities, with the outcome becoming less and less certain the further down the stream Darc went. He placed a positive outcome at less than two percent.
Yet he still wanted Mala there.
As Darc neared the vehicle out in the parking lot, he took another moment to assess the inner workings of his gray landscape. He was approaching, not his own Sebring, but Trey’s Land Rover. Darc knew where Trey kept his spare key in his desk at the precinct.
Again, there was no rational reason for Darc to prefer Trey’s vehicle to his own. And yet, here he was, about to commit grand theft auto. Trey would not be pleased to discover that Darc was driving his car.
Yet Darc was going to drive it regardless.
He positioned himself behind the wheel of the Land Rover. The seat and mirrors had already been moved by the uni who had driven the Rover back from the crime scene where Trey had been abducted, so they needed a little additional adjustment. Darc breathed in the air of the vehicle. There was a lingering smell of old leather and fast food, with something else less identifiable underneath. Darc was surprised to discover that he found the scent… comforting.
Starting the engine and easing the car out of its spot, Darc scanned the gleaming lines of logic in his mind for additional information. There was still a lack of cohesion here. Leaving seemed the best of the options, but there was no certainty.
Darc’s attention snapped back to the act of driving as a figure stepped out in front of the Rover. It was Mala, waving her hands for Darc to stop. His reaction had been delayed by his inward focus, and in order to avoid striking Mala, Darc pulled the steering wheel hard to the left. He felt and heard the crunch and scrape as the side of the Land Rover made contact with one of the parking bumper posts placed to keep drivers from entering the lane that moved in the opposite direction.
7th Sin: The Sequel to the #1 Hard Boiled Mystery, 9th Circle (Book 2 of the Darc Murders Series) Page 26
