“This is so different,” Johnson said. “The guy we found in the barn, hacked up and buried. William Reynolds. Greeling, the cop. Tammy Hartwell, Nathan Anderson. All different.”
“Not all are different,” Vail said. “And in some cases the change in MO was logical and purposeful—and situational. In many ways the kills are reflective of the offender’s instability. He’s on the run, homeless. He’s adapted his MO to ensure success and meet his needs. William Reynolds is an example. Nathan Anderson was opportunistic. I don’t think he planned to kill Nathan. But once he used him to get away, he became an asset—for sex—and then a liability because he’d be taking a risk in letting him live.”
“So you think this fits with the other kills?” Hurdle asked. “Is Aida one of Marcks’s victims? And Gaines’s?”
“I think it’s consistent with Marcks’s ritual. The difference in MO can be explained. Now, whether Gaines is involved, we may need to rely on forensics. And I need to go back and look at this entire case, rewinding to his first kills, to see how I’d assess him—and see how I’d look at the case if he had a partner. I basically worked off Thomas Underwood’s assessment because I was new. I’d never do that now. So I think it’d be good for me to step back and take a fresh look at it, from the beginning.”
“How long is that gonna take?” Hurdle said.
A lot longer than you’d like. “There were fourteen murders, not to mention all the recent ones. And the fires. Normally it’d take weeks, but we don’t have weeks. I’ll do it as fast as I can. Meantime, let me take a better look at Aida.” Vail started a few feet away from the bed, taking it all in. She moved closer and resisted the desire to study the “blood lines” first, looking over her face. No unusual markings.
What’s that?
She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight, shined it into the mouth, which was minimally open, teeth parted. “Hey, we got tweezers?” She moved into the hallway and called to a crime scene technician. “Tweezers?”
The woman reached into her kit and handed a pair to Vail, who rushed back into the bedroom. Curtis saw her and said, “What’s going on?”
“Found something, I think.”
Vail maneuvered the prongs between the lips and slowly extracted a piece of paper. She flashed on a prior case where she had found notes hidden in a victim’s orifice, a case that caused her a great deal of pain in more ways than she cared to think about.
“What is it?”
Curtis’s voice drew her attention back to the present. She set the tweezers down and unfolded the note.
“What the hell?” Johnson asked. “A blank piece of paper?”
“Maybe,” Curtis said. “I think I told you Jasmine got one of these from Marcks. Turned out it had indented writing.”
Vail brought it over to the window and held it at an angle to the gloomy, glary daylight. “It does say something.” She kept moving it, trying to catch the shadows just right. “Next in line.”
“What?” Curtis said.
“That’s what it says. ‘Next in line.’”
“Is that a reference to his blood lines?” Johnson asked. “A tongue-in-cheek reference to himself?”
Vail thought about it a moment. “Maybe.” He’s never done something like this before. Why start now? Because we know who the killer is and he knows me? Is this note meant for me? Is he telling me I’m next in line?
Her phone trilled. She slipped the note into an evidence bag and pulled out her Samsung. It was Rooney.
“Just found something,” he said. “Where are you?”
“At a new murder scene. Since our cases appear to be related, want to stop by?”
“Text me the address. Might as well tell you what I’ve found in person.”
“Tell me now.”
“It can wait till I get there. You’ve probably got your hands full.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Vail hung up, tapped out the info to Rooney, then faced Curtis and Johnson. “Art Rooney’s on his way. Meantime, I’m gonna take a look around. Maybe I can see this from a new point of view.”
HALF AN HOUR LATER, Rooney walked in and exchanged brief pleasantries with Curtis, Johnson, and Hurdle. “Good to meet you all in person. So where’s our body?”
“Follow me.” Vail led him into the bedroom.
Rooney stepped up to the victim and surveyed her from head to toe. Vail had never seen him at a fresh crime scene. Then again, given his military training, it made sense that he would conduct his business in an organized, systematic fashion.
He finally stepped back and looked over the room. “Okay. Brief me.”
They gave him a summary of what they had had learned and explained their theory of why there was a difference in MO.
Rooney nodded. “Very good. I agree.”
“We’re looking into Aida’s whereabouts after she left work,” Johnson said. “It’s possible she crossed paths with the killer at some point during the day.”
“Could’ve come across her yesterday. Or the day before that. Not saying you shouldn’t do your due diligence. But I’m not sure it’ll bear fruit.”