Andie drove Victoria straight from the airport to the downtown police station. She had been invited by the locals, so it was only logical that the FBI would meet on their turf.
They entered through the main entrance on Ninth Street. Andie shook the rain from her umbrella onto the green tile floor. A pair of detectives hurried in right behind them, their trench coats soaked from the cold morning drizzle. Cops in blue uniforms crisscrossed the lobby. A half dozen suspects were handcuffed and waiting on a bench along the far wall. The oldest one was an aging relic of the sixties with long, stringy gray hair. He had dried vomit on his shoes and an annoying determination to sing Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe" to the female officer who had dragged him in for disorderly conduct. Amazingly, his screeching voice was nearly drowned out by the general noise and commotion echoing off the high ceilings. With a quick check of her watch, Andie realized the station was buzzing with the early morning change of the guard. It was easy to tell who was coming and who was going. There was no face more telling than that of a cop coming off the midnight-to-eight shift.
Victoria went straight to the duty officer to announce their arrival. Andie's beeper chirped. She recognized the number. Gus had given her his private line last night.
"We're a few minutes early," she said to Victoria. "I'd like to return this call."
"Sure. Go ahead."
"Thanks." She went down the hall to a pay phone and dialed. She pressed the receiver tightly to her ear and put a finger to the other, blocking out the noise from the lobby.
"Gus?" she said into the phone. "It's Andie Henning. You paged me?"
"Why did I have to read about this serial killer in the newspaper?"
Her heart sank. All morning long she'd been worried about Victoria's reaction. That paled in comparison to the way Gus's voice made her feel. "I'm sorry this happened."
"Sorry it leaked? Or sorry my wife is dead?"
"No one said your wife is dead. The bookend theory is just that--a theory."
"Why didn't you tell me last night?"
"Because it's very preliminary."
"Not too preliminary to make front-page news." "Believe me, I was just as surprised as you were to read about this in the paper."
"Excuse me?"
"I never intended that theory to hit the newspapers."
He scoffed. "That's reassuring. Sounds like you've really got things under control."
"It's--" Andie struggled. At this point, it seemed the more she told him, the deeper she dug her hole. "I wish I had time to explain. But I don't right now."
"Explain this much for me, will you please? I'm still curious as to why the FBI even has a hand in this. I'm not a criminal lawyer, but homicide isn't normally a federal crime. Do you think Beth was kidnapped and taken across state lines? Is that why the FBI is involved?"
"No. The FBI is involved only to support local law enforcement."
"What does that mean?"
"You really want to know?"
"My wife is missing. I have a right to know."
Andie couldn't argue. A few details might help put him at ease. She glanced back toward the lobby. Victoria was waiting. "I have to make this fast," she said into the phone. "One of our agents from the Investigative Support Unit arrived this morning. She and I will meet with the local homicide detectives."
"To do what?"
"First off, we'll try to determine whether we even have a serial killer."
"Then what?"
"If we think we do, we'll probably take steps toward organizing a multi-jurisdictional task force."
"Led by the FBI?"
"Not exactly. It can get complicated, the more agencies that are involved. The best way to sum up the arrangement is to say things generally don't work the way you see them on television. The FBI doesn't conduct the investigation. That's the job of local law enforcement. We help organize things and make sure the locals get the services they need--crime analysis, formulation of investigative strategies, technical and forensic resource coordination, use of the FBI Evidence Response Teams or FBI laboratory services. Our experts will also review the evidence to construct a psychological profile of who the killer might be. It helps police sharpen their investigation, helps them zero in on certain types of people. It basically gives them somebody to look for when they don't know who they should be looking for."
"So, who are you looking for?"
"There's no profile yet. That takes a little time."
"These profiles--you can tell a lot about the killer from them, right?"
"They get fairly detailed, yes." She glanced again toward the lobby. Victoria was pacing. "I'm sorry, Gus. I really have to go."
"Wait, wait. There's one thing I'm particularly interested in."
"What?"
"In this profiling stuff, is there any way to know if the killer keeps his victims alive? For a while, I mean."
"I told you. We don't have a profile yet."
"I'm asking you." His voice was loud, desperate. "I need some information. Just something to go on, okay? If there is a serial killer, and he does have Beth . . . how much time have we got?"
"I wish I could answer. There's just no way to say for sure."