“He’s already doing that. I’m heading back to the office to write it up.”
The call ended just as McCrae returned.
“Yeah, toss him.”
“What happened?” Corrina asked.
“That was his brother. He’s been following the story on the news and knew Ted couldn’t have done it. They were together on a two-day bar cruise when Joanne Perry went missing. He showed me boarding pass stubs and credit card statements.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Jess just called. Chapter eight was real. He’s still out there.”
It felt like an entire day wasted.
“Fifteen-X is messing with us, leaving a false trail that we’re forced to follow. If we ignore the clues, though, you can bet your ass one of them will be important.”
Corrina was thinking the same. They were in a hopeless position, dancing to the killer’s tune. “I say we dismiss everything he’s told us and focus on the hard evidence.”
“Well, we had a credit card receipt. That didn’t work out too good. We can probably dismiss the hair they found at Calvin Holland’s place, too. I bet the killer put it there on purpose.”
Corrina was about to agree, but something stopped her. She thought back to the chapter regarding Sheila Graham. Something about it didn’t seem right. She took out her phone and opened the email app, then downloaded the seventh chapter and started reading.
“What is it?” McCrae asked, but she put a hand up to silence him as she focused on the screen in her hand. After a couple of minutes, she looked at him.
“In chapter seven it he says he wore a protective suit. I think that’s a lie.”
“How come?” McCrae asked.
“Well, he explains how he cut Sheila Graham’s hand and left her blood for the forensics team to find, right? So why no mention of the hair? If he left it there on purpose, he’d have bragged about it.”
“Or,” McCrae said, “Sheila actually did bump into that Benning guy. Maybe that’s why the killer didn’t mention it.”
It was a valid argument, but as there were no other leads to follow up, Corrina made up her mind.
“Let’s go see him again. If he comes up with an alibi, I’ll let it go.”
“Sure,” McCrae said. “Let me give Shearer the good news, and I’ll be right with you.”
“Let’s leave it until this evening. Benning wasn’t home the last time we went in the afternoon. Say seven?”
“Suits me,” McCrae said. “I ain’t got plans.”
Half an hour later, with apologies made and the usual threats of legal action out of the way, Corrina drove back to the bureau. After they’d arrested Ted Shearer, she’d put Seth Benning to the back of her mind. Josh had been working on a profile of him, but she’d taken him off that task and told him to focus on Shearer’s background. She quickly remedied that. She told Josh and Hank to sift through Benning’s entire life. She hoped they’d have something before she got to the suspect’s home.
One thing they discovered that got Corrina excited was Benning’s work history. Or to be more accurate, the lack of one. He’d had a few menial jobs from his teen years until he was in his early twenties, then…nothing. No filings with social security, no tax returns, nothing. So how was he supporting himself?
If she wanted access to his bank accounts, she would have to apply for a warrant. The FBI could access any federal government records, but those held by states or private companies had to go through the legal system. There wasn’t much chance of getting one at such short notice, and with little to back it up except a hunch, she decided to wait until she’d spoken to him. If he seemed off, she’d go through the channels and get everything they had on him.
As seven approached, Corrina was growing increasingly confident that Seth Benning was a person of interest. He certainly had many questions to answer.
McCrae called to say he was downstairs. Corrina collected her jacket and purse and rode the elevator to meet him.
“Mind if you drive?” he asked when she reached the lobby. “I had to take the car into the shop. Gonna be without it for a couple of days.”
“No problem,” Corrina grinned. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Two minutes later they were on the freeway heading north. She held her hand up next to her face to shield her eyes from the rays of the setting sun and checked her mirrors as she prepared to switch lanes. When she did, she glimpsed a GMC Savana several cars behind them.
A silver GMC Savana. After the number of hours she’d stared at the photo on the task force room wall—not to mention the one that had parked outside her home—she’d recognize it anywhere.
She gripped the wheel a little tighter, the hairs on her arms standing proud and a flutter in her chest. McCrae looked at her.
“What is it?”
“Maybe nothing,” Corrina said. She indicated to move into the left lane. “There’s a Savana behind us. I just wanna check it out, see if it’s following us.”
McCrae was experienced enough not to look around. He glanced in the side mirror but couldn’t see the van from his angle. “Quit being so paranoid.”
“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean no one’s out to get you.”
Corrina waited another few minutes, then switched lanes again. The van copied her move.
“Okay, now I’m really sure.”
“You don’t think maybe some guy just finished a day in the office and he wants to go home? Let’s see what happens when we turn off the freeway.”
Corrina knew he was right. Short of stopping on the freeway and risking a collision, all they could do was await an opportunity to see if the tail was real. She thought about asking McCrae to radio a few cars to help with an intercept, but if it turned out to be a false alarm, he’d be the one to deal with the fallout.
She just wished it was close enough to get a look at its tags. She could at least call it in and have someone run the plates. She’d have to wait until they were on city streets, where it couldn’t hang so far back.
When she saw the sign for the off-ramp, Corrina indicated early and pulled into the right lane. The van did the same. When she left the freeway, the Savana followed.
“I’ll give him two more turns,” Corrina told McCrae. “If he’s still with us by then, I’m pulling him over.”
She turned left onto Victory and maintained a steady speed. Moments later, the van appeared behind them again.
“He’s still there,” she said. “I’m gonna make one last turn. If he follows, I say we have a word with him.”
The van was about sixty yards back. She took a right on Kester, then pulled over at the curb. She looked in her side mirror just in time to see the van make the same turn. It drove past her car, slowed, then stopped across the street fifty yards away.
“I know those plates,” Corrina said. “They belong to Mary McEwan.”
“The ones Brian Tanner said were cloned.”
“That’s right. Question is, who’s driving? Tanner, or someone else?”
She hadn’t had a good look at the person behind the wheel. Initially the Savana had been too far back, and after the sun set, all she could make out was a silhouette created by headlights.
“Let’s find out,” McCrae said. He took his weapon out and put a round in the chamber.
If this was the same guy who’d been hanging around outside her house, she didn’t want another chase. “I’m gonna box him in,” she told McCrae. “The moment I stop, he’s yours.”
He nodded, removed his seat belt and put his hand on the door release. “Go for it.”
Corrina set off at a normal speed, and seconds later she was level with the van. She swung the wheel and stomped on the brakes, and the nose of her car stopped inches from the front fender of the Savana. McCrae jumped out and aimed his pistol at the van’s windshield, but the engine growled as the Savana mounted the sidewalk and sped off.
McCrae jumped back into the car and slammed the door closed as Corrina hit the
gas. “Call in back-up,” she said. “I lost him once. It’s not gonna happen again.”
McCrae took out his phone and called the station. He explained the situation to a detective from the late shift and gave a running commentary so that they could guide in reinforcements.
The van had a slender lead, but Corrina was determined not to let it get away this time. It took a left on Friar and Corrina stuck to its tail, making the turn just in time to see the Savana go right on Cedros. She gunned the engine and took the turn on two screeching wheels, just as the van went right again on Irwin.
“I’m coming for ya…” Corrina growled, her Ford gaining on the target as McCrae continued to relay their location and heading.
After another right back onto Kester, the van cut left onto Sylvan Street, but Corrina was closing. She stuck to its tail as it blew through a Stop sign and went right on Noble, the distance between them now down to ten yards. The van launched into the air as it hit speed humps, and Corrina kept her foot down as she, too, caught air.
They heard sirens over the roaring of the Ford’s engine, and Corrina knew it was just a matter of time. She kept up the pace, not giving the evading driver a moment of respite. She was now within two car lengths, and the van jinked left and right to stop her getting alongside. Corrina had no intention of doing so. The other units in the area would soon have the entire area cordoned off, giving the van driver nowhere to go.
The Savana was now back on Victory, its speed increasing to ninety as the driver sought an escape. Another right, and they were back on Kester, but the end was in sight. Two marked units swung across the road ahead, blocking it off, and the van lurched left, dashing into a McDonald’s parking lot. Corrina followed, now close enough to clip the van if necessary.
It wasn’t.
The Savana shot out onto Victory and an SUV slammed into its side. Both vehicles spun, and six police cruisers converged in seconds. Corrina slammed on the brakes and jumped out, her weapon drawn. McCrae followed close, and they cautiously edged toward the van’s driver side door.
McCrae saw the driver’s head resting on the wheel, blood trickling from a gash in his head.
“FBI!” Corrina called. “Hands in the air!”
Four more cops stood around them, their pistols up and ready to fire. Corrina inched closer to the driver, her finger on the trigger and half a pound of pressure away from ending his life. He stirred and raised his head.
Corrina recognized him immediately. “Hands in the air, Tanner!” she yelled.
The security guard slowly sat upright and put a hand to his head. His fingers came back red.
“Last time, Tanner. Hands in the air, now!”
Tanner looked surprised, then glanced around and saw the armed cops with their fingers on their triggers. His hands crept up slowly, as surprise turned to shock.
McCrae kept his gun trained on Tanner’s head as Corrina yanked the door open. She took Tanner by the collar and dragged him out of the van, pushing him down to the floor. The uniformed cops jumped in, two of them kneeling on Tanner and applying the cuffs while the others kept him covered with their handguns.
Once he was secured, McCrae went to check on the passengers in the SUV. Two cops were already tending to the occupants, a man and a woman in their thirties. Thankfully, there were no sign of any children in the vehicle. Both looked to be conscious and mobile, so McCrae let the uniforms deal with them.
Two uniformed cops led Tanner to a police cruiser, one reciting his rights. Corrina thought about questioning him but decided against it. She was too pumped, too angry, and she didn’t want to lose control. Not in front of a crowd. There would be plenty of time to speak to him once she’d calmed down. Besides, the collision meant Tanner would have to undergo a medical before they could talk to him. If they skipped that step, his lawyer could have the case tossed.
She holstered her weapon and walked back to her car. The uniforms could take care of the scene now. She had more important matters to attend to.
“I told you there was something about him,” she said as McCrae got in the passenger seat next to her.
“And you were right. Let’s book him. I wanna question him as soon as the doc’s looked him over.”
Corrina paused before starting the engine. Her hands were shaking, the adrenaline from the chase still pumping through her. She took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. She almost jumped when McCrae’s hand caressed hers. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“You okay?” he asked, genuine concern on his face.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m good. Just glad we got to nail his ass.”
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
Corrina desperately wanted to plant her lips on his and kiss him with every ounce of passion inside her, but there were too many people around. The last thing she wanted was anyone knowing about their relationship.
Not that there was one. Not yet, at least. But it was early days, plenty of time to see how things progressed.
And she would take it slowly. She’d rushed into her marriage to Mike, but she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.
She gave McCrae a playful punch on the arm, then started the car and pointed it south.
Chapter 30
Corrina sat back with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes fixed on Brian Tanner, who was sitting opposite her.
McCrae conducted the interview. He set the tape rolling and announced the names of those present, before reminding Tanner of his right to an attorney.
“Don’t need one. I ain’t done nothing wrong.”
“Okay. Let’s start with why you were following agent Stone and me tonight.”
“No one’s told me what I’m being charged with,” Tanner replied.
“Fleeing law enforcement, for starters.”
“Don’t you have to identify yourself as officers for that to work? All I saw was a car stop in front of me and some guy pulled a gun. I thought it was a robbery, so I ran.”
McCrae knew this wasn’t going to be as clean-cut as he’d expected. “Which brings me back to my original question. Why were you following us?”
“Who says I was following anyone? I was driving legally on city streets. I just happened to be going in the same direction as some other drivers. No felony there.”
“Okay, you wanna play it that way, let’s leave the chase and crash until later. Tell me what you were doing on May 7th, 2011.”
“Are you kidding? What was I doing nine years ago? Let me see. Oh yeah, May 7th, 2011. I was boning your mom.”
“Nah, the last guy I arrested was doing that. I think you were kidnapping Kerry Swanson. You took her back to your house and murdered her.”
Tanner’s arrogance slipped from his face as shock took over. “You…you think I’m Fifteen-X?”
“I do,” McCrae said. “That’s why we spoke to you a few days ago. The van you were driving was seen outside Agent Stone’s house, and when she went to confront you, you ran. We suspect the same van was involved in the murders of Kerry Swanson, Joanne Perry, Thomas Crane—”
“Now wait a minute! I had nothing to do with those killings.”
“Me thinks he doth protest too much,” Corrina said, enjoying the moment.
“I’m serious. That wasn’t me.”
“Then tell me why you were following us earlier tonight,” McCrae pressed.
Tanner looked torn. “I can’t.”
“Ooh, now I’m intrigued,” McCrae said, leaning in. “Why can’t you tell us, Brian?”
McCrae could see that Tanner’s nerves were getting the better of him. He’d come across as someone used to being in control, but now sweat beaded on his forehead, and he swallowed twice in quick succession.
“I bet it’s him,” Corrina said. “Unless he can come up with alibis for the first eight murders.”
“How in God’s name am I supposed to do that? I have no idea what I was doing on those days.”
“That’s convenient,” Cor
rina said. “For us, I mean. No alibi? Check. Age within the profile range? Check. Drives the same make and model van as the killer? Check. I’d say we had enough to charge him already.”
Tanner’s voice quivered as he answered. “You’re bluffing.”
Corrina’s, in contrast, was firm. “Try me. The killer contacted me directly and you followed me—twice. Coincidence? I think not. You can sit in the state penitentiary while we build a case against you. That should take, what, six months?”
She looked at McCrae, who nodded, and then at Tanner, who was squirming in his seat. Time for one last turn of the screw. “So, unless you can come up with something in the next sixty seconds, we’re gonna charge you with eight counts of first-degree murder and let the slow wheels of justice turn.”
She waited, knowing Tanner was about to spill. He looked like he’d popped two Mentos in his mouth and taken a swig of cola.
“Okay,” he finally said. “I moonlight as a PI. Your husband hired me to follow you and see what you two get up to. Something about a divorce case.”
Corrina was stunned. She really thought she’d caught Fifteen-X, but instead she had a private investigator looking to dig dirt on her for the custody battle.
Unless Tanner was lying to save his ass.
There was one quick way to find out.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said. She stood and left the room, taking out her phone as she sought a quiet area to call her husband.
“Mike,” she said when he answered, “did you hire someone to tail me?”
“What? No. No way.”
“Are you sure? Because the same van followed me on Monday and last night.”
“Of course, I’m sure,” he said.
“Okay. Because Brian Tanner, the driver of the van, is in an interview room facing eight charges of murder and I’m about to process him. His defense is that you hired him to follow me, so I’m going to have you listed as a witness when this goes to court. If that turns out to be true, if Brian Tanner can prove that he’s working for you, you’ll be arrested for hampering a major police investigation, and perjury. That carries a sentence of five years in prison. Do you understand me?”
Fifteen Times a Killer Page 22
