‘Not entirely altruistic on my part,’ Thorne admitted. ‘I was sure he knew about that fucking key ring.’ He squeezed Gwyn’s hand when she took his. ‘I’ve been trying to reach Christina Brandenberg too. God, I hope she’s not dead. She’s the sister of Colton, who was the third of Richard’s posse back then. He’s a doctor now, apparently. At least he tried to do some good. She’s protecting him.’
‘I know,’ Joseph said calmly, sipping from his cup. ‘That’s why I’m here. I got a message through the switchboard this morning from a Dr Colt. He and his sister are on their way to see me.’
Gwyn’s mouth fell open. ‘You could have led with that.’
Joseph narrowed his eyes. ‘I got another call this morning. From a Mr York.’
Gwyn felt the blood drain from her head. ‘What?’
Thorne winced. ‘I told him to call Joseph for verification. I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you.’
Because he’d given her an amazing massage, then more amazing sex. She patted his hand. ‘It’s okay. What did he say?’
‘He wanted to know if Thorne’s story was true,’ Joseph answered. ‘I verified it. Next time, a heads-up would be nice.’ Then his narrowed eyes softened. ‘You should have told me, Gwyn. I would have given them protection.’
Gwyn’s face heated as Clay, Jamie and Frederick stared at her. She dropped her gaze to her cup. ‘I had a baby. Gave him up for adoption. Records of him were in my fire safe.’
‘Oh,’ Jamie said softly. ‘That’s why you were crying last night. Oh, honey.’ He wheeled his chair over and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I would have said different things.’
‘I know you would have, but thanks.’ She leaned into him for a moment, wishing he’d been her dad too. She returned her attention to Joseph. ‘Is Aidan okay?’
Joseph frowned, and Gwyn’s breath started to come in pants. Beside her, Thorne stiffened. ‘No,’ she said, hearing her own hysteria.
Joseph sighed. ‘We don’t know that anything’s wrong. He’s just not at home. His father was frantic when he called. The young man’s friends say they had a party last night and that Aidan left with a girl. The girl says he left her house just before dawn and was going home.’
‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’ Gwyn clamped her hand over her mouth and turned into Thorne’s arms, which tightened around her.
‘His father said he was at home when I called last night,’ Thorne said.
Joseph sighed again. ‘Yeah, well, he thought he was at the time. Mr York decided he wanted to talk to me first thing this morning before frightening his son. His friends admitted that Aidan had snuck out the window. That he’d been doing it for years.’
Like me. He’s like me. Crawling out of windows to parties. Tavilla’s got him, and now he’s going to die. Like Nystrom.
‘Gwyn.’ Thorne gripped her shoulders. ‘You need to breathe. You don’t know that he’s going to die. He could be with another friend.’
Gwyn hadn’t even realized she’d said the words aloud. ‘You don’t believe that, though.’
Thorne squared his shoulders. ‘No, I don’t. But I also know we’re not going to find him by losing our shit. I’m going to tell you what you told me on Sunday. I’m not going to give you time to process this. I need you here with me now.’
No, no, no, no. The chant filled her head. She wanted to curl up into a fetal position. She wanted to rock herself, like she had done right after leaving the hospital. After Evan.
No. Not going back there. Get it together, Gwyn. She dragged in a breath. ‘What are you doing to locate him, Joseph?’
‘The local field office is treating this as an abduction. They’re forming the task force as we speak. I didn’t want you to hear this on the news or from someone else.’
She jerked a nod. ‘Thank you. Will you raid Tavilla’s home and offices?’
‘Not right now. We don’t have anything connecting him to this that would allow us to get a warrant.’
She leaned into Thorne, breathing him in. Picturing all the yarn on the bulletin board connecting the victims to the perpetrators. The connections they couldn’t yet explain were those to Tavilla. Why he had chosen to kill Patricia, and how he was tied to Linden Senior. And, of course, that motherfucking key ring.
‘What about Linden Senior?’ she asked. ‘Can you bring him in?’
‘For extorting Eileen Gilson into silence, yes. Maybe for interfering with the investigation into his son’s murder nineteen years ago. But that’s not enough to connect him to any of the rest of it.’
‘Brandenberg will do that,’ Thorne said. ‘He has to. He’s the only one left.’
Joseph put his empty coffee cup aside. ‘Then let’s go talk to him. He’s meeting me and Hyatt in half an hour.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Thursday 16 June, 9.30 A.M.
‘What did Clay say?’ Gwyn asked as they exited the elevator on the homicide floor of BPD. She, Thorne and JD had driven here with Joseph, while Frederick and Jamie had followed in Jamie’s van.
Clay had stayed behind with Alec, who had now thrown himself into the search for the real Anne Poulin, not the woman who worked for Tavilla, but the one who’d left Montreal on a student visa. The real Anne Poulin was another link to Tavilla because she had once existed, but had been apparently erased and replaced by the woman who’d worked for Thorne for a whole year.
Tweety had also stayed behind, but Thorne was rethinking that decision, because Gwyn was still pale and dangerously on edge as she waited for an answer to her question.
He slid his phone into his pocket. ‘He was staticky at the end because of the elevator, but I got the main gist. Stevie got a call this morning from the coach of Patricia’s son’s lacrosse team. He’d found Tristan Armistead, who confirmed he’d been “seeing” Patricia. He was seventeen when she first approached him. He’d been both elated and terrified by her attentions. He was being seduced by an older, experienced woman, but he also knew Patricia’s son would not understand. When Patricia was murdered, he was afraid but didn’t know who he could go to for help.’ He narrowed his eyes at Joseph. ‘He also said that one of Hyatt’s men had already spoken to him. Told him to lay low.’
Joseph’s eyes widened, showing rare shock. ‘I didn’t know that.’
Thorne believed him. ‘Tristan said the cop who interviewed him accused him of calling Patricia to lure her away from home the night she was killed. He denies it. Says he’ll give access to his cell records to disprove it. He heard from his teammates that his coach was looking for him, and contacted him. He’s been sweating bullets for days, thinking the cops were going to arrest him or that Judge Segal was coming for him.’
‘Who was the cop?’ Joseph asked, dark color staining his cheekbones. He was pissed. Good. So was Thorne.
‘Gave his name as Detective Hooper.’
Frederick gasped softly. ‘That’s the same name the guy gave to Sally Brewster, the one who was looking for Bernice Brown.’
‘Because Bernice Brown supposedly lured me out on Saturday night,’ Thorne said, ‘after which two innocent people were killed in their trailer because someone thought Bernice was there.’
‘But Detective Hooper doesn’t exist,’ Frederick said. ‘I checked.’
‘True,’ Thorne said, ‘but the man Tristan described reminds me a lot of that prick Brickman.’
‘Like it’s a shock that he’s dirty,’ Gwyn said bitterly. ‘I hated that man on sight.’
JD was staring at an unoccupied desk in the bullpen. ‘You know, when I finally met Cesar Tavilla last year, he was sitting right there. At that desk.’
‘Tavilla was . . . here?’ Thorne asked. He hadn’t known that part.
JD nodded. ‘Yeah. I’d been looking for him everywhere but hadn’t found him. He has offices but never seemed to be there. I left loads of messages with his receptionist. We were looking for Gage Jarvis for murdering his wife. It was urgent because we were afraid he’d go after his daughter, who’d witnessed it. We knew Tavilla had seen Gage Jarvis because you gave us that photo, Thorne.’
‘That I got from my contact Ramirez,’ Thorne said grimly. ‘Who is now dead. You’re saying that Tavilla just showed up? How’d he get past security?’