His disappearance was frustrating; at the least, Thor could be grateful that his superiors believed in him enough to warn the public about the possible appearance of a serial killer in their midst. Of course, the Seward population—actually the Alaskan population—was already on alert.
Before they left the station, Sally gave them her office space so that they could videoconference with Angela Hawkins at the Krewe headquarters.
She was perfect for Jackson, Thor thought. A woman who appeared to be extremely competent and, best of all, not just attuned to what he did with his life, but totally a part of it.
“I’m going through everything,” Angela said over the computer screen. “It’s difficult, because we’re tracing some calls through the routers. And his mail! My God, you wouldn’t believe the amount of women out there who write to men in prison! They think they’re the ones who can change them, or they’re the ones who understand them. I swear to you, we’ll get through all the letters and calls as quickly as possible. Luckily Will Chan is working in the office, and you know how great he is with computers and film, and people who are trying to hide with disguises or pay-as-you-go phones. We need a little time, though—please bear with us.”
“Of course,” Thor murmured. “Grateful that you’re there.”
“Thanks,” she said brightly. “And I’m grateful that you’re there—Jackson has talked about you quite a bit.”
“Scary,” Thor said.
Angela laughed. “All good. Anyway, I’ll do nothing else but this until I have something for you,” she promised.
“Angela, what about Marc Kimball?”
Thor hadn’t realized that Clara Avery was as close as she was until she spoke; neither, apparently, had Jackson.
He’d forgotten, too, that she knew Angela—that she had spent time with her in New Orleans after the Archangel affair.
“Clara! I’m so sorry you’re involved in all this,” Angela said.
“It’s okay. Hey, I’m with the best of them, right?” Clara said.
“Don’t you two dare leave her alone,” Angela said firmly.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let them. But what about Kimball? He’s freaky-scary-slimy, even if he isn’t a crazy murderer,” Clara said.
“Ah, yes, Marc Kimball!” Angela said. “His business policies are certainly questionable—especially everything I’ve read regarding the treatment of his employees. They’ve had protests, they’ve tried boycotts...but, people need jobs. According to reports, he was flown via his private jet from New York City to Alaska yesterday morning after learning about the terrible crimes at his property. All I know for sure is that his jet did leave NYC for Alaska. I haven’t found an eyewitness account of him getting on or off the plane. Private jets at small airports fly by different laws than commercial liners, so finding someone at a small airport isn’t easy—especially when it comes to a very rich man who has always seemed concerned about his privacy.” She paused. “We have proof that the plane left NYC, and we have proof that it landed. But we interviewed the pilot and he never saw Kimball. Doesn’t even know what he looks like. He was given his directions via an email the day before he flew, and through the intercom on the plane. He was in the cockpit before Kimball boarded. Since I didn’t accept anything about the plane at face value, I can’t say for a fact that he was on the plane as he claimed. But I can’t say that he wasn’t. There are no reports of his having been in Seward until he arrived at the police station there.”
“Thanks, Angela,” Jackson said.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, her voice dropping low and husky. “Be careful, guys, please. This sounds like a really rough situation. I mean, yes, investigating is what we do, but...”
“Of course,” Jackson said softly.
“How is your research going on the others?” Thor asked her.
“No felonies among your television crew,” she told them. “Becca Marle has some unpaid parking tickets. Tommy Marchant was reported once for domestic violence, but witnesses said that his ex-wife was the one being abusive. Nate Mahoney—once again, we’re not looking at anything more threatening than parking violations. He had a juvenile record.”
“Really?”
“He robbed a convenience store with some neighborhood toughs—they pretended sticks were guns. The judge put him on probation...his father had just died. Apparently he’s been clean ever since. Graduated from NYU film school and apprenticed with one of the top special-effects companies in LA. He took the job with Wickedly Weird Productions about two years ago. None of them sound as if they have the makings for murder and dismemberment. But we all know that might not mean anything.”
“No history of anyone tying firecrackers to cats’ tails, throwing stones at dogs or chopping up lizards?” Jackson asked.
Angela shook her head. “Ups and downs in life. Tommy apparently had a very nasty divorce. Poor Becca was literally left standing at the altar. Nate dealt badly with the death of a parent—a situation that is definitely not unprecedented.”
“What about the couple at the house?” Thor asked.
“American Gothic!” Clara murmured, and Thor glanced at her.