She hung up and turned back to Underwood. “Marcks was not involved in any of the murders?”
“Not the Blood Lines kills. But he had at least two to his credit—years before his arrest. There was a gas station attendant he shot when Jasmine was twelve. Indianapolis. They were on their way back from watching the race—Marcks and Rhonda, his wife, and Jasmine. He went to fill up while Rhonda used the restroom. Marcks got into it with the attendant about something and the guy pulled out a gun. Marcks took it off him and shot him, point-blank, right in the face.”
“And Jasmine saw this?”
“She said she did.”
“And the other kill?”
“Rhonda.”
“So she didn’t slip on a skate in the garage,” Vail said. “I just listened to the 911 tape today. Jasmine really sold it. She was completely believable.”
“Impressive. A psychopath at a fairly young age, who can act.”
Vail’s mouth dropped open slightly. Shit. “She’s good.”
“Yeah she is. And I’m not saying that to be self-serving. But she fooled us. All of us. She even altered her ritual on vics nine and ten to throw us off track, to suggest there were two killers. That’s beyond good, that’s an awareness we don’t often see.”
“There was another murder you probably don’t know about. Marcks supposedly shot a kid during a struggle. Other teen brought the gun. But given everything we now know, I’m not sure anything we were told was true. I doubt there was a struggle at all. He probably just killed the kid.”
Underwood frowned. “Quite the family.”
“But Marcks really is trying to kill Jasmine,” Vail said. “That much I’m sure of. I saw the anger. I mean, Marcks is a violent man. And a killer. I agree with your assessment—he exhibits only some of the psychopathic cluster. And since there’s a genetic predisposition, it makes sense that Jasmine also has these traits—but to a greater extent.” She shook her head. “How could I not have seen it? I mean, I didn’t know her well, but I had a fair amount of contact with her over the years.”
“Because she was grooming you, manipulating you for her benefit.”
Vail thought about that. And felt like putting her fist through the wall. She had to take the personal affront out of the equation. She forced her thoughts back to the case. “Why would Marcks plead guilty to the Blood Lines kills?”
“He only pled to two murders.” Underwood chuckled wryly. “And he only did that because Jasmine was going to rat him out on Rhonda and the gas station attendant. This way, if he pleads to the two Blood Lines kills, he’s famous, he’s talked about forever in serial killer lore, and it’s no difference to him. He was probably going to go down for the murder of his wife, without question. There was a witness. A compelling witness who could turn on the tears of how her father bullied her and threatened her if she didn’t lie for him. No one was going to believe the hulking thug over the beautiful blonde when those tears start flowing.”
“And I’m guessing she planted the evidence at those two Blood Lines scenes. Her father’s hair and blood. To frame him.”
“Right,” Underwood said as he slowly rose from the floor and sat down on the couch. “And he knew that. He knew there was no way he was going to get acquitted for those two murders. We had his DNA at the scenes. Not a chance in hell they’d believe his story.”
Vail joined him on the sofa. “That’s why he took the deal. Plead to the two, no death penalty.”
“He was going to do life no matter what. If he didn’t agree to the deal—the one Jasmine presented him with—she would tell the police a convincing story she’d cooked up about how her father planned Rhonda’s murder for weeks. Maybe she even planted some evidence for us to find as well in case it became necessary, in case we went looking. Bam, you’ve got premeditation. Special circumstances and the death penalty.”
“She’s one smart, evil bitch. But why does he want to kill her? Because she was going to rat—” Vail’s ears perked up at the sound of footfalls on the steps.
“Vail, you down here?”
“Yeah.”
Hurdle appeared seconds later. His eyes found Vail’s colleague. “Thomas Underwood, I take it.”
Underwood held out a hand and they shook. “Karen here saved my life.”
Hurdle smirked and nodded. “Good for her. Might be the only thing she got right in this case.”
“Hey.” Vail rose—but Underwood grabbed her arm.
“I don’t know what agency you’re with, but—”
“Marshals Service,” Hurdle said, subtly moving his jacket aside and revealing the badge he was wearing on a chain around his neck.