Kendra smiled. “Modest, too.”
“I know I’m good at what I do. Just like you’re good at what you do.”
“Okay, then tell me something new about our killer. Something we didn’t know before,” she said.
Suber pushed up his glasses. “When I was on the case in Florida, I actually thought the killer might have been of lower intelligence with difficulty holding onto jobs and relationships. I think I was wrong. The killer was playing a part for us there. I now think we’re dealing with a highly-organized man, mid-to-late thirties, with high intelligence. He’s planned this for a long time, and he’s extremely interested in news accounts of his killings. He’s probably obsessive about it. When we get a suspect, we have to check online activity or computer access at nearby libraries. Or to see if he’s suddenly buying copies of every local paper at a neighborhood newsstand. I’m positive he’ll be doing this, like an actor in a play reading his reviews.”
“A few of mine were bedwetters,” Gale said.
Suber nodded. “Possibly. Six out of ten serial killers habitually wet the bed after the age of twelve, though most outgrow it sometime during adolescence. Psychologists think it reflects a lack of control or might just be a symptom of psychological stress. This won’t do us much good to find him though. We need to focus on his attention to the media.”
“Interesting,” Kendra said absently. She was glancing around at the construction debris.
“What are you looking for?” Lynch said.
Kendra’s eyes flicked around the area. “This whole car was wiped clean. Not just the inside. I’m thinking that the towel or rags may have been tossed away among the debris here.”
Gale smiled, turned, and picked up a clear gallon-size zip lock evidence bag. Inside was a crumpled hand towel. “I thought the same thing, Dr. Michaels. I found this in the corner.”
She nodded with approval. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a cop. Maybe one with a little experience.”
“Well, we’ll see if it gets us anywhere.”
“You never can tell.” Her eyes went to the overgrown lot where the squad cars and support vehicles were parked. There, leaning against a fire truck, Detective Arnold Huston sipped coffee with an elderly man in dirty clothes.
She nodded toward Huston. “What’s happening over there?”
Roscoe shrugged. “Huston walked the neighborhood right after we got here and chatted up some of the locals. He found that homeless guy and brought him back here. Not sure what he’s finding out.”
“Never mind that,” Gale said. “Where in the hell did they get coffee?”
“There’s a dispenser in one of the hazmat vans,” Kendra said, still staring at Huston.
Just then, Huston pointed in their direction and led the homeless man through the large opening. He introduced his new acquaintance to the group. “Friends, this is John Sheffield. He spends a lot of time in the neighborhood. I thought he might be kind enough to share anything he might have observed with us.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kendra said. “We’re grateful for anything you can remember.
Sheffield nodded in response. He was probably in his late fifties though he would have looked younger without the large gray beard that covered his face. Despite his dirty clothing, he looked and smelled clean, with no unpleasant odor that she might have expected from her first glance.
Huston patted Sheffield’s arm. “Tell them what you told me. About what you saw here.”
Sheffield seemed hesitant as he eyed the group converging around him.
“It’s okay,” Huston said. “Go ahead.”
Sheffield nodded, then spoke in a light rasp. “Well, things have been quiet here for a long time. A few years ago, people used to do drugs here, but the cops ran ’em off. I tried sleeping in here when it rained, but that really isn’t much of a roof. And I didn’t like the rats. Kinda freaked me out.”
Kendra grimaced. “I didn’t care for them, either.”
“But I cut through this lot a few times a week. It’s a shortcut to the next street. And a couple times lately I’ve seen a car pulled around back.”
Kendra pointed to the Toyota behind them. “This car?”
“Nah, it was a white one. Kinda boxy, with tinted windows.”
“Any idea of the make or model?” Lynch said.
Sheffield shook his head.
“I’m going to take him to the office and show him some pictures,” Huston said.
“I have the entire auto flipbook collection in my tablet,” Suber said. “We can go through it here.”
“Good,” Huston said. “We’ll do that.” He turned back to Sheffield. “But first tell them about the boards.”
Sheffield turned back to the open-ended hallway. “This has always been open, just like this. But around the same time I started seeing the car, I saw that it had been all boarded up.”
“Sounds like it could be our guy,” Gale said. “Did you ever see anybody in that car or maybe getting in or out of it?”
“Nah. It was just sitting over there behind the building. It couldn’t be seen from the street. But I never saw anybody around here.”
By this time, Metcalf and Gina had joined the group. Kendra turned toward Metcalf. “Have you run ownership on this Toyota yet?”
He produced his phone, which had only recently become his note-taking instrument of choice. “Yes. It belongs to a Lucinda Harris in San Ysidro. Reported stolen three days before Amanda Robinson was abducted.”
“We already started working with local police on that,” Gina said. “Seeing if maybe neighbors have security cameras or if there are traffic cams in the area we can use to track it.”
“Good,” Kendra said.
“Not good,” Griffin said as he stepped through the opening. “Kendra and Lynch, you’re off this case.”
Kendra turned toward him. “What?”
“I just got a call from Sharp Memorial Hospital.” He added grimly, “They were displeased with your unexpected departure from their facility.”
“That’s why you’re pulling us off the case?” Lynch said.
“No, I’m pulling you off the case because it just might save your lives. You were exposed to a dangerous toxin, then given some medication that could cause some nasty side-effects. Your highly-skilled doctors want you both in the hospital overnight in case treatment is necessary.” He added sourly, “I believe this was explained to you?”
Lynch shrugged. “When I cross-examined them on it, they admitted that the threat was miniscule. It was pretty clear they just wanted to make sure that we were available for Homeland Security when they came knocking in the morning.”
And Kendra said impatiently, “Don’t be crazy. Lynch would never let anything bad happen to me. I vaguely remember somebody might have said something about that to—”
“Hell yes, they did,” Griffin said curtly. “I don’t give a damn if Lynch wants to risk his own neck, but I’m responsible for bringing you on board. You’re not working this case until you’re discharged. Officially discharged.”
“When will that be?” Kendra said.