In less than thirty seconds, Lynch opened the cabinet door.
The group crowded closer, and Lynch stepped aside to reveal several more guns, each suspended on metal hooks.
Gale let out a low whistle. “A Zoli, a K-80, a modified AR-15 … probably $40,000 worth of guns here. No wonder he wanted to hide them.”
Kendra knelt in front of the cabinet. “There’s something else here. Can someone give me light?”
Metcalf and Gina aimed their flashlights downward where a length of rolled-up black felt lined the cabinet’s base. Kendra unrolled the felt to reveal several small objects.
Yes. She ignored the exclamations from the agents and detectives around her as she carefully examined them.
Keys.
A hearing aid.
A monogrammed handkerchief.
A prescription pill bottle.
A bag filled with a clear gelatinous material.
Kendra looked down at the pill bottle and read that name aloud. “Shelley Waldrop.”
“She’s one of mine,” Gale said eagerly. “Murdered in Fairfield.”
In short order the detectives linked the remaining items to each of the other cases, ending with the gruesome realization that the gelatinous bag was a breast implant cut from Los Angeles resident Ann-Marie Tepper, the first victim from Roscoe’s case. A quick call to the manufacturer confirmed that the serial number was a match.
“We’ve got the son of a bitch,” Griffin said. “I’ll get the photographer back in here to document everything, then we’ll take these back to the office and shove them down Hagstrom’s throat until he talks.”
“Give me the chance to do the verification first,” Gina said eagerly. “Then he won’t be able to deny anything.”
“That seems to be the thing to do.” Kendra took one last look around and then she nodded at Griffin. “Good luck.”
“Aren’t you coming back with us?” Griffin asked. “You should be there when the son of a bitch goes down.”
She shook her head. “No. Grilling suspects is your thing, not mine. I have somewhere to go. We’ll talk later.” She headed for the door.
Suber was suddenly beside her, blocking her way. “We really need you there during this final stage of the case.” His eyes were shining with eagerness. “Can’t you see that it’s a historic moment in crime solving? I was planning on featuring you prominently in my paper. Our efforts here will be taught in universities all over the world.”
“No.” She was trying to be patient. “I’m not going back to the field office, Suber.”
“All right, then give me a statement I can quote in my paper.”
She’d had enough. “A quote? Here’s a quote. Stop concentrating every minute on death, Suber. In short, get a life.”
She pushed past him and left the house.
*
“DEAR ME,” LYNCH SAID mildly as he caught up with her as she reached the street. “I believe that you’ve hurt poor Suber’s feelings.” He clicked his tongue reprovingly. “You’re definitely not behaving as the star of Griffin’s august team.”
“I didn’t volunteer for the assignment of being either their therapist or a member of the team itself.” She was already in the passenger seat of his car. “And he kept talking and he was making me late.” She checked her watch. “Which he probably managed to do. I should have left ten minutes ago.”
“Only ten minutes?” He started the Ferrari with a low roar. “I can get you there on time.”
“I prefer it to also be in one piece,” she said dryly. “I won’t do Ryan Walker any good from the ICU.”
“Have a little faith.” He was already halfway to the freeway. “I wouldn’t risk you. It’s all a question of regulating the traffic lights. I have a gadget I ordered from Rome that—”
“I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I wasn’t going to really describe it. There’s such a thing as plausible deniability. Besides, Jessie would appreciate it far more than you would. You might occasionally be envious of Jessie, but it’s obviously pretty much all talk. I’ve noticed that you’ve grown a little stodgy of late.”
“Stodgy?” She shot him an outraged look. “Because I don’t want to end up in jail or the hospital? Just because I don’t drive a Ferrari or smuggle hackers out of foreign—” She stopped as she met his eyes, which were gleaming with sly satisfaction.
“Gotcha,” he said softly.
Yes he had, she realized. She had risen to the bait. “You’re right, I wouldn’t want to be thought boring. Pull over. I bet I can get back to the studio with time to spare. Just let me get behind the wheel and see what I can get out of this—”
He lost his smile. “Hell, no.”
“Chicken.”
“Merely possessive. Haven’t you noticed?” He held up his hand. “And no, you’re not stodgy. I still shudder when I remember you and Jessie on that motorcycle on the freeway a few months ago. I just thought that I’d distract you from a mood that appears to be on the stormy side.”
“By pissing me off?”
“By making you feel superior. You can’t deny that making a man such as me back down is a real victory for anyone.”
“So you did it on purpose?”
“Why, of course.”
“Liar.”
He grinned. “Also, of course.” He glanced at the sign on the freeway. “But I did make the time go by at lightning speed, didn’t I? We’re halfway to your studio. You have just enough time to tell me why you were being curt to Suber. You practically stomped out of there.”
“No, I didn’t. I just … left. I was late.”
“And you think all those brilliant, eager detectives are full of shit.”
“No.”
“But you do think they’re wrong.”
“Maybe not.” She looked straight ahead. “It just seemed … too easy. Zachary is brilliant. It shouldn’t be that easy. And then there were all those guns … But I could be wrong. Those other wonderfully convenient clues back there seemed to be panning out.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to spend my time being the one to explore those clues or question Hagstrom right now. If the team comes up with something that’s absolutely irrefutable proof, or they get a confession from Hagstrom that he’s Zachary, then I’ll congratulate them and be the first one to join the party.”
“But you don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“I don’t know,” she said in exasperation. “That’s what Metcalf asked me. He wanted to know if I was thinking in the same vein as Huston … Zachary is a wild card, he could go in any direction. Did I get the impression that something wasn’t quite right with Hagstrom? Yes. But it might not have had anything to do with Zachary. We’ll have to wait and see.” Her lips tightened. “And I didn’t want to get involved in endless discussions about Hagstrom or Zachary with those detectives today. Zachary always seems to be hovering over my shoulder every minute of the day. I wanted to send him packing for a few hours.”