“Call him, call Jonathan. If he’s moving, he’s no longer in class. He should hear his phone. Assuming he turned the volume up after class ended.” And assuming Jasmine doesn’t have him.
“I still need to call campus PD. Gonna do that first, get them on board. We could use their eyes and ears on the ground. They know their streets and buildings better than us. Then we can figure out what’s going on. Hurdle’s headed toward the Stingray location and Curtis is going after that tracking device you’ve got on Jasmine. We’re covered. Hang tight.”
Hang tight? Is he serious? Hang tight?
Underwood went through some verbal sparring with campus police but ultimately convinced them they could have a serial killer on-site and that a target could be a student, Jonathan Vail, who was leaving one of his classes. “Which one? Which building?” Underwood asked Vail.
“No idea. I asked him for his schedule but I don’t think he gave it to me. I just know he’s done with classes today at six.”
Underwood related that information and told them he had two potential locations. “Yes, this is a federal agent’s son. Vail, Karen Vail. FBI.” He listened a moment, thanked them, then hung up.
“So?”
“So I was right. They don’t know what to make of it. You have a photo of Jonathan? And Jasmine?”
“Nothing of Jasmine. But I took a good one of Jonathan a couple weeks ago with my fiancé.” She gestured at the phone. “In ‘gallery.’”
Underwood navigated the screen, tapping and swiping. “Got it. Sending it through to them now.”
“There’s probably one of Jasmine on her website. Have them google it. No idea what it is.”
“They’re getting a couple of cars out to circulate in the area and alerting foot patrols. But other than looking for Jonathan—which is why I wanted the picture—they didn’t seem to have a plan of action. Can’t say I blame them.”
“Open up that app. Let’s see if I can talk you through how to use it.”
Underwood had the program up and running as Vail turned right onto 23rd Street NW, now blocks from GW. As she began her explanation, Hurdle called through.
Vail reached over and put it on the Bluetooth speaker.
“We got a problem,” Hurdle said.
“I don’t want to hear about problems.”
Hurdle ignored the comment and continued: “Stingray had a fix on Jonathan’s phone along Pennsylvania Avenue and then it winked out.”
“Winked out? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the signal disappeared. They said it can be caused by the phone powering down. But Stingray can do all kinds of shit, including tracking the phone even if it’s off.”
“And?”
“And they’re not getting anything. Which means the phone’s probably broken.”
Vail felt a knot in her intestines. “As in smashed.”
“Yeah, something violent, like hitting it with a hammer. Or throwing it from a moving vehicle.”
Vail took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. “Where on Pennsylvania Avenue was the last known position?”
“Near 22nd. But we’re here right now and there’s nothing. No sign of Jonathan. Or the phone. But there’s all kinds of shit in the road, snow and slush and salt. Not sure we’d find it unless we plowed it and went through the crap by hand.”
Dammit. Jonathan would not do this. She has him. “Can we all agree that Jasmine’s got him?”
Hurdle hesitated a second, then: “Yeah. That’d be my assumption.”
“That tracking device I planted on her, it started working again. Curtis has it up and running.”
“I’ll get the location from them. Keep me posted. I’ll do the same.”
Vail continued driving, unsure of where she was going or even what they would do when they got there.
“Where would she take him?” Underwood asked.
“Depends on why she wants him. Could be to lure me to her.”
“If she wanted you, she’d call you.”
“Then why else?”
“To kill him. I’m sorry, Karen. But now’s the time for independent, rational thought. You have to somehow divorce your emotions, think logically. Clearly. Can you do that?”
I’m his mother. How can I do that?
“I asked you a question,” Underwood said firmly. “Can I count on you to think clearly?”
“Yes. Yes.” Vail took a deep breath and slowed the vehicle. She had unknowingly brought it up to forty in a twenty-five zone, with college students milling about on the sidewalks. “If she wants to kill this victim, she’d take him back to her house in Arlington, where she killed her other victims.”
“Except that we have to assume that by now she’s looked in on Rusty.”
Vail nodded. “And she’ll see that he’s no longer there.”
“And in his place there’s a bunch of crime scene personnel.”
Vail pulled to a spot by the curb. “So she’d think we probably found her Arlington house, too. And you. Right?”