Taylor spent the drive back to the office in deep thought. Two kills, exactly alike, with two people who on the surface had absolutely nothing in common. A quick investigation on Stover found that he was in town on business, had checked into the Hermitage Hotel in the late afternoon, asked directions to Rippy’s BBQ on Broadway, and set off at a walk around six the previous evening. Marcus Wade was down there now nosing around. Hopefully there’d be a lead.
In the meantime, Taylor set to work getting back with the Fairfax County Police in Virginia. A few annoying false starts later, she was finally connected to a detective named Drake Hagerman. Taylor laid out the story and asked for his help tracking down Gustafson. He promised to get back to her within the day. Satisfied, Taylor hung up and called Marcus to see what was shaking on his end.
What was shaking, apparently, was pay dirt. Marcus answered in a huff.
“I was just about to call you. Can you send me a picture of the guy whose wallet Go-Go had, the one we didn’t find last night?”
“I’ll bring it down myself. Why? You got something?”
“Stover was in here last night, dining with another guy. Description sounds an awful lot like that photo on the license. If it’s him…”
Taylor felt that flash of excitement she got when a case was about to break wide open. Less than twenty-four hours. Impressive. Her people were damn good at their jobs.
“I’ll be there in five.”
She called Chief DeMike and let him know what was happening, then set off down to Rippy’s.
The bar was packed full, the lunch crowd rolling in food and drink and overly loud country music. Taylor would love to know how much they pulled down in a year; Rippy’s was always packed to the gills.
She found Marcus at the back bar, chatting with a ponytailed, jean-clad waitress. He looked quite pleased with himself. Marcus was adorable, and his good looks sometimes helped loosen tongues. Taylor gave him a look, and he cleared his throat and became completely professional.
“Lieutenant, Brandy served Mr. Stover last night. She said he was with another gentleman.”
Taylor had hastliy cobbled together a six pack of photos. She pulled the card from her jacket pocket and handed it to the waitress. “Do any of these men look familiar to you?”
Gustafson was on the top row, third photo.
Brandy didn’t hesitate.
“That’s the guy,” she said, pointing to Gustafson.
“You’re one-hundred percent certain?”
“Absolutely. Gave me the creeps. He smiled too much. And didn’t tip. They were going honky-tonking, the fat one asked me the best place to go. I sent them to Tootsies, of course, and suggested the Cadillac Ranch too.”
Taylor met Marcus’s eye. “Thank you, ma’am. Please keep this to yourself. You may be called on again to provide information. Are you willing to do that?”
“I am. If he’s a creep, I don’t want him back in here. Hey, I gotta go. My manager’s giving me the evil eye.” She glanced coquettishly at Marcus. “Shout at me sometime.”
Marcus blushed red, and Taylor gave him a smile.
“You’re such the charmer.”
“You know it. So this is our guy, huh?”
“Looks that way. You keep on this trail, see if you can track exactly what might have happened. I’m rather amazed, actually. Either this guy dropped his wallet while he was stabbing Go-Go, or she managed to slide it out of his pocket. Pretty incredible presence of mind for a girl who’s stoned and dying.”
“But she was an accomplished pickpocket. Maybe she targeted him just as he targeted her. And they both got screwed.”
Taylor nodded. “That makes sense. Well done, Go-Go. She practically handed us her killer on a platter. I’m heading back to the office and hitting the ‘net.”
“All right. See you later.”
Taylor watched Marcus stride away, thankful to have his keen investigative mind at her disposal, then walked back to her vehicle. She had a date with a computer.
The email notification on her iPhone chimed just as she turned the engine over. It was Hagerman, from Fairfax County. According to him, there was no one named James Gustafson in the Virginia DMV system, and the address on the license was a vacant lot. Her killer was a ghost.