“We just got off the phone with Taylor. The remains from the church aren’t Jill Gates. But we have to find out who this woman is. Do you have any other MP reports?”
“Nothing that hasn’t been resolved. The only outstanding one was from a former pro missing from Magdalene, but she turned up this morning floating in Old Hickory Lake.”
“Think you can do some trolling, see if there are any others out there?”
“Yeah. I think I need to expand out the area. I was already running statewide. I’ll go over the entire Southeast, see if anything else pops up. Check ya later.” He turned to go, shoulders slumped with weariness.
Price leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on his desk, and gazed at Baldwin, saying nothing. Baldwin waited him out. He had no intention of volunteering anything more without a good, long think about things.
Price dropped his feet off the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat.”
50
Baldwin was too surprised by Price’s invitation to do anything but agree.
They made their way out of the building, across the courthouse parking lot, and onto Second Avenue, his mind churning with possibilities. Price didn’t speak much as they walked, lost in his own thoughts. He stopped in front of a restaurant with a red neon sign in the window that read SATCO. The San Antonio Taco Company was something of an establishment in Nashville. Their main restaurant was over by the Vanderbilt campus, servicing the students with beer and cheap food on the oversize deck. The small offshoot they were entering didn’t have the ambiance, but the food was still quick and delicious.
Price held the door for Baldwin. “Hope you like Mexican,” he said in a tone that told Baldwin he didn’t give a crap whether he liked Mexican or not. Lucky for him, he did.
The restaurant was set up like a cafeteria. They ordered tacos and enchiladas, retrieved their food, and made their way to a private corner. The restaurant wasn’t full, so they had plenty of privacy.
Digging into their meals, they were silent for a moment. Price took a long drink of his soda and eyed Baldwin, finally giving the younger man a smile.
“So how are you finding our little operation? Anyone giving you any trouble? Taylor keeping you in the loop on everything?”
It wasn’t the beginning Baldwin expected, but he rolled with it. “Actually, everyone has been very gracious and helpful. Taylor especially.”
They stared each other down. Aha, Baldwin thought. Maybe this wasn’t about him after all.
“Son, I was a little dubious about letting you in on this case. But your boss and I go way back. Way back. And when he asks me a favor, I’m quite likely to comply. That’s why I agreed to let you come on board and gave you the option of whether you could handle yourself enough to participate. You seem to be doing fine. But I’m wondering just how committed you are to this case. You know what I mean?”
Baldwin suppressed a grin. He felt sure Price was going to ask his intentions toward his lieutenant, like an overprotective father. It hit him that everyone was a little overprotective of Taylor, though he couldn’t see any reason for them to be so concerned. Her anxiety attacks aside, the woman seemed to have steel fused in her backbone. He was debating how exactly to answer when Price continued, almost reflectively.
“The stuff that’s been happening around here is unusual, to say the least. We don’t have a lot of high-profile cases, at least not this many in so short a period of time. I’ve been doing this for a long time, since before you were running around in short pants. I’m inclined to agree with you—my gut’s telling me these murders are related and that we’re dealing with one killer. You said you think he’s trying to send us a message. You’re the profiler on this case. Time to earn your pay.”
Exam time. Baldwin decided to go for it. He felt Price was sincerely asking for his opinion. Perhaps it was time to trust him and show his worth to the man.