The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)

“Officially,” Tarkoff said, “those other twelve cases were never closed.”


“Right.” Curtis raised a hand to fend off a comment from Walters. “But the victims’ families know the deal. They understand. Some accepted it and have closure. Others need all the i’s dotted. I’ve asked my partner, Leslie Johnson, to get in touch with each of them personally to deliver the news of his escape and to assure them we’re working to find him. Unfortunately, for them it’s like opening an old wound.”

Vail holstered her phone. “As I said, Marcks has a relatively high police IQ—he understands why we do what we do, and how we do it, and I’m sure he’s gotten more of an education while at Potter—as well as the max facility at Florence in Colorado where he served out his first three years. So bottom line is we have our work cut out for us. We have a lot of avenues to pursue but I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up with zeroes. We may need to think outside the box on this one.”

“What did I tell you, Vail?”

She looked at Hurdle. “That we’ll find him. It’s only a question of when.”

“Exactly.”

“What kind of law enforcement support can we expect?” Morrison asked.

“It’s a matter of managing resources. This isn’t the same as the Clinton escape in upstate New York. They had intel those knuckleheads were going to skip into Canada, so they brought in the National Guard to secure the border and a gazillion cops to search a well-defined area. Here, we’ve got all of Virginia to deal with. Because Vail thinks he’s going after his daughter, he’ll probably stay somewhat close. But he knows that we know that.

“We’ve got more officers on the streets. But we can’t go hog wild in terms of manpower. We don’t want to blow through budgets with overtime and personnel—unless it’s needed. Bottom line, escalation is based on necessity. Scale personnel to where you think the guy is, mass your assets in that area. If bodies start dropping, we’ll start adding resources, get more aggressive with deployment. If we can be smart about it.”

“Right now,” Tarkoff said, “we’ve got a tip line set up. NGOs and GOs are involved, providing lookout,” he said, referring to nongovernmental and governmental organizations. “Media blasts are going to start soon. We’ve got checkpoints set up at strategic locations along the Virginia border. Next in line would be highway billboards, but we’re not there yet.”

“We’ve got choppers up flying routes around and near the daughter’s house,” Hurdle said, “since we know Marcks was there when he killed Greeling. But that’s not gonna continue 24/7 with a spotlight and thermal imaging equipment running one or two grand an hour. Not to mention that Marcks was probably long gone before we even arrived on-scene.”

Hurdle stole a look at the time, which was spelled out in a red LED display above the computer workstations.

Vail’s eyes ticked over as well and she cursed under her breath. She was late.

“Everyone get some dinner and be back here at 10:00 PM sharp. I’ll hand out assignments and we’ll get started. Vail thinks he’s gonna kill again. I think she’s right. We’re a little handcuffed at night, but we can at least get organized so we can hit the ground running once the day starts. Keep your phones on and always nearby. I don’t want to hear any excuses about not getting my texts.”

Everyone got up and started shuffling awkwardly toward the door, slowed by the cramped quarters. Morrison had trouble with the handle but ultimately got it open, and they filed out into the frigid, damp night air.

“Where you headed?” Hurdle called after Vail.

“Home. I’ve got dinner guests and I’m already late.”

“Just be back on time.”

“Yes sir,” Vail said as she walked briskly toward her car. “Heard you the first time.”





13


Vail phoned Jasmine the moment she got into her car. The seat was cold and the steering wheel was colder. Snow was predicted, but she hoped it would fizzle out.

“You okay?” Vail asked as she pulled out of the police department parking lot.

“I’m fine,” Jasmine said. “A little rattled—check that, a lot rattled—but I’m holding up.”

“Where are you?”

“Safe. Which is more than I can say about being in my home. You told me I’d be okay there.”

“I thought with the cop posted … we figured that if the guy wanted to hurt you the first time, he could have. Curtis thought he was just trying to scare you. I agreed.”

“Well, I don’t think the cop who was lying there dead on the side of the house would agree with that analysis.”

Probably not.

“So you’re not going to tell me where you are.”

Jasmine hesitated. “I think it’s best no one knows. Besides, I’ll be moving around. Just in case.”

“You need me to pick up some stuff from your house? Clothes?”

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