Vail swallowed. She was staring at her screen, her thoughts zipping by so fast she could not process them. None of this made sense. The Blood Lines killer was behind bars ninety minutes from here. For life.
“Agent Vail,” the professor said. “Are we interrupting?”
“I, uh—I’m sorry, a case. It’s—”
Her phone vibrated again—in her hand. It was Gifford.
She slowly brought the handset to her face, almost afraid to answer it.
“Yes sir.”
“Karen, I know you’re offsite at GW, but you need to take a rain check.”
She brought two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I heard about the officer.”
“What officer? I’m calling you about Roscoe Lee Marcks. He escaped two hours ago.”
Vail felt dizzy. This can’t be happening. Fuck.
She glanced up, hoping she had not verbalized that thought. All eyes were on her but no one appeared shocked. Then again, these were college students.
“US Marshals have mobilized,” Gifford said. “Call Deputy Lewis Hurdle. DiCarlo’s texting you his contact info.”
Vail swallowed and looked across the lecture hall at Jonathan. “Yes sir.”
“Leave now. I’ll have Lenka call the professor and reschedule you.”
“Okay sir. Yes sir. On my way.” She slipped the phone back in her pocket, adrenaline hitting her bloodstream with the abandon of a broken dam. “I’m uhh … I’m very sorry. I must sound like an idiot, but I’ve been ordered to—I’ve got a—there’s a situation I have to deal with and—we’ll have to reschedule.” She grabbed her flash drive and the screen behind her went blank.
“My office will be in touch,” she said to Winfield, avoiding Jonathan’s gaze, as she bolted for the door.
◆◆◆
VAIL DID NOT HAVE TO CALL DEPUTY HURDLE. He phoned her by the time she reached her car.
“On my way,” Vail said as she chirped her car remote.
“No need,” Hurdle said. “We got this.”
“What do you mean, ‘We got this.’ I was ordered to get with you, help the task force find Roscoe Lee Marcks.”
“I know what our job is. All I’m saying is you don’t need to do it. We got this. We’re good.”
Vail turned over the engine and pulled out of the parking spot, trying to restrain her building anger. “Who’s we?”
“Capital Area Regional Fugitive Task Force. This is all we do, Vail. We catch assholes like Marcks. And we do it better without anyone meddling in our business.”
“Good to know. What address am I driving to?”
Hurdle slowed his speech and lowered his voice. “Am I not making myself clear?”
“Crystal. I’m ignoring you. Now, you can give me the address of the command center, or I can have the FBI director talk with the attorney general and have him get the address for me. I’ve got the director on speed dial.”
I love saying that.
There was a pause.
So predictable.
“Check your phone.” The line went dead.
And the info hit her cell seconds later.
VAIL PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT of the Mason District Station of the Fairfax County Police Department, where a black RV sat, gold lettering proclaiming “U.S. Marshals Service Mobile Command Center,” along with the five-pointed silver star that dated back to the agency’s origin in 1789.
A conspicuous satellite dish and corkscrew communications array projected from the top of the vehicle.
As she started to get out of her car, Curtis’s Ford glided into the spot next to her.
She had called Curtis and told him to divert there, if possible. He said he could, as his partner was already on scene at Jasmine’s house.
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Figured you’d want to be looped in from the start.”
“You figured right. Gotta watch these marshals. They think they know everything there is to know about catching bad guys.”
“They do.” She noticed Curtis’s look, so she added, “Hey, I give credit where it’s due. The marshals on the fugitive squads know their shit. They’ve got fugitive tracking in their blood.”
“You admit that?”
“Before we walk in that trailer?” she said, gesturing at the RV. “Hell yes. But they’ll also piss you off because they don’t pass up any opportunity to let you know that they’re the best.”
“This isn’t your first rodeo with them.”
“I’ve heard stories.”
Curtis gave her a dubious look. “I could tell those stories. Did a couple years on the task force a while back.”
“We’ll just make this a meet ’n greet so we can get over to Jasmine’s place. I know you’ve got a guy there now, but—hey, who’d they give you?” Vail knew that Curtis’s former partner died of leukemia. “Anyone I know?”
“She’s new. Out-of-state hire. Checkered history, what I’m told. Lucky me.”
Vail locked her car door and started toward the marshals’ command post. “You ask her about it? You’ve gotta know who’s covering your back.”