Karen Vail 01 - Velocity (22 page)

Bledsoe said, “Hector went through the death of a loved one. He knows what it’s like. I don’t think he made that comment lightly.”

“I didn’t,” DeSantos said. “And the facts are that after the first forty-eight hours

—”

“I’m not some il -informed civilian. I know what the deal is with missing persons.

That’s why I’ve been running myself ragged. Because I know that every minute that passes, the likelihood of finding him, if he is stil alive—” She felt her throat catch and stopped.

DeSantos sucked on his cheek a moment, then said, “I’ve got some materials Bledsoe put together for me. I’m going to review them tonight and poke around. But I want to be total y honest with you. I’m probably going to have to dig deeper, use resources that should only be used for sensitive government work. Robby going missing is a personal case. At best, it’s a local case for Napa County to deal with.”

“That’s not tr—”

DeSantos held up a hand. “I deal with issues where national security’s at risk, where thousands, tens of thousands, or mil ions of lives are at stake. To use my resources for one life . . . ”

“Rewind a bit, Hector,” Bledsoe said. “If you were sitting in Karen’s seat—”

“I get your point,” DeSantos said firmly. “I already said I’d help and I’l honor that.

You know me, you know I’m good for that. But you’ve gotta understand there are limits. That’s just the way it is. Because if I step too deep into the shit, the director wil be on my ass. I know him personal y, and I try to keep my relationship with him in a good way.”

Their food came, and Vail looked at the salmon in front of her. The presentation was exquisite and the aroma rising from her food did not disappoint. But she had lost her appetite. Robby was on her mind. She thought of al the serial kil er victim families she had met over the years. Most at least knew the fate of their loved ones. Robby was gone. Alive? Injured? Dead? Tortured? Inhumanely disposed of?

Not knowing was an internal torment she would have to deal with for now. It would fuel her hunger for finding him. Or finding answers to what had happened to him—

and why.

Then she would catch whoever was responsible. And make him pay.

35

B
ledsoe dropped Vail at home. She said a few words to the cop Fairfax County had assigned to watch over Jonathan, and then trudged up to her front door.

The porch light was out, making the area darker than usual. She made a mental note to change the bulb. For safety’s sake, it’s the least she could do. Lighting and trimmed shrubs were as important as locks . . . they acted as deterrents and indicated to a would-be offender that the occupant was aware of her environment and personal security.

Before Vail could bring up a fist to knock, the wooden door swung open. Her Aunt Faye was standing there, a dishrag in hand. “Wel , wel , wel . I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come home.”

Vail pul ed on the screen door, then gave her aunt a hug. “It’s good to be home.”

Faye squinted, looking around Vail at the dark stoop. “Where’s your luggage?”

Vail lifted her arm, revealing the day bag. “I packed light.”

“Nonsense,” she said, looking intently into Vail’s eyes. “I remember you leaving with a large suitcase.”

Vail moved into the house and tossed her bag onto the couch. “Let’s just say it’s a long story and leave it at that.”

“Did your friend drop you off? Robby, isn’t it?”

“He’s—no, another friend of mine brought me home.”

Faye leaned in closer, then turned on the living room light. She made a point of studying Vail’s face. “What on earth happened to you?”

“Me?”
You don’t want to know. Trust me.
She forced a phony smile. “Al in a week’s work. There’s nothing I won’t do for the Bureau.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned her head away, viewed Vail from the corner of her eyes.

“So what was it, real y?”

“A case. It got a little rough. Good thing is the bad guy got the worst of it.”

“Your work is so dangerous, Kari. I don’t know why you do it.”

Vail wasn’t going to be baited into this discussion. She was not in the mood to discuss it. Instead, she stepped into the hal way. “Jonathan home?”

“In his room.”

Vail took another few steps to his door. Knocked. No answer. Napping? Not likely at 8:00 PM. Tried the knob—unlocked—so she walked in. Jonathan was sitting at his desk, his back to her, large black gaming headphones covering his ears and his Xbox 360 control er in his hand.

She came up behind him and tapped him on his shoulder. He twisted his neck quickly up and back—saw his mother—and set the control er down and pul ed off the headset in one motion.

He rose to give her a hug but stopped an arm’s length away. “What happened to your face?”

“Al in a day’s work. No big deal. Looks worse than it is.” She took him in her arms and gave him a squeeze. “How was Aunt Faye?”

“Fine.”

Vail sat on the edge of his bed. “I hope you two spent some time together. It was awful y nice of her to come out here to stay with you. Did you make her feel welcome?”

“We went out to dinner. And we caught a few movies.”

“Good, good. Did you get to know her?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah. We talked. She’s easy to talk to.”

Vail’s brow rose. “Good. That’s good to hear. I’m glad you two connected. She hasn’t seen you in, wel , a good five years. I doubt you remember her.”

“We went to some state fair with her and she took me for ice cream. That’s pretty much al I remember. She said we used to go to her house for a barbecue on the Fourth, but I don’t remember any of that.” He leaned back in his chair. “So is Robby coming by? I just unlocked a new character and I wanted to show him how I did it. He’s gonna be so fucking jealous.”

“Watch your mouth, please.” She felt hypocritical—she was admittedly free with the expletives at times, but tolerating it from her son was a different matter. Of greater concern was what she should tel Jonathan about Robby. The truth was always best. But in this case, was it? Was lying to her son the lesser of two evils?

“I don’t think Robby’s coming by, sweetie. Not for a while.” There we go. Spoon it out until he stops asking questions—and maybe he’l satisfy his curiosity before she has to go into detail.

“You two broke up?”

Vail waved a hand. “No, nothing like that. We had a great time in Napa.”
Of the
time we had together. Before he vanished.
She rose from the bed and swept a hand across his cheek.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up with that cop who’s fol owing me around? It’s annoying.”

“Just a precaution, sweetie. I don’t want my work spil ing over into my personal life.”
Now there’s a novel idea.
“Shouldn’t be too much longer.” She pointed at his Xbox. “Get back to your game. I’m going to go unpack.” Jonathan slipped on his headphones and Vail walked out.

36

C
are to tel me what real y happened in California?”

Vail let go of Jonathan’s doorknob and turned to see Faye standing in the hal way, hands on her hips.

She was tired and mental y drained. Now was not the best time. Stil , she owed Faye some explanation. And she needed to ask her for a favor.

Vail walked back toward the living room and they sat down next to each other on the couch. Not two months ago, she and Robby were making out on this sofa, headed toward a promising future, despite a brief interruption by the Dead Eyes kil er.

“How was your visit with Jonathan?”

Faye’s face brightened and broadened into a grin. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I rather enjoyed it. We had some good talks. About his father. He had some unanswered questions.”

Vail sighed. She had talked with Jonathan about what happened between her and Deacon but held back some of the details. She wasn’t sure what the raw truth would do to a young teen and his place in the world. Then again, it was no secret to Jonathan that his father had turned into an abusive deadbeat. And Vail explained to her son that Deacon was a different person when she had met and married him. It was a good lesson as to the depths one can sink when a perfect storm of mental imbalance, medication indifference, and the spiral of depression conspire to bring down a person to the nadir of human suffering.

“How’d he take the answers?” Faye had a background in counseling, so Vail was not surprised that she had broached the topic with her nephew.

“Very maturely, I thought. He had a healthy perspective. I think he’l be fine. So—

your trip.”

“It started out wonderful and I stuck my nose where it shouldn’t have been. I got involved in a case. And because of that . . . ” She looked down at the coffee table.

The short, squat bottle of V. Sattui Madeira she had shared with Robby was stil there, a memory of their night together. A reminder of the start of a meaningful relationship. If she thought there was a chance it would hold Sebastian’s fingerprints, she would’ve driven it directly to the lab.

“And because of that,” Faye prompted.

“Because of that . . . Robby went missing a few days ago.” She brought her eyes up to Faye’s. Her aunt’s mouth was open.

“What do you mean, ‘went missing’?”

Vail got a couple glasses from the adjacent kitchen, poured some Madeira, and told Faye the whole story, beginning with their arrival in Napa. Soon the alcohol was flooding her bloodstream, making her head and arms feel like dumbbel s.

“Do you think Detective Bledsoe’s friend wil be able to help?”

It was a question Vail had asked herself on the drive home from Clyde’s. “I sure as hel hope so.” She set her glass down on the table. “Aunt Faye, I have a favor to ask. And a proposition.”

Faye leaned forward, apparently sensing the weight of Vail’s request.

“Because of the nature of the investigation into Robby’s . . . disposition, it may be necessary for me to come and go. Where, I don’t know. But it could also entail long hours away from home.” She put two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Point is, I have no idea what’s coming around the bend.”

“You need me to stay,” Faye said. Her demeanor was flat, neither excited by the idea nor turned off by it.

“And that brings me to my proposition,” Vail said. “The room in the back. It’s got a separate entrance, its own bathroom. There’s even a plug for a mini fridge.”

“Move here, move in with you.”

“You’d be closer to me and Jonathan, and to Mom.” Vail’s mother, Emma, had Alzheimer’s, and Vail had moved Emma from her childhood home in Westbury, New York, to an assisted care facility in Virginia.

“First things first,” Faye said in a measured response. “Of course I’l stay for as long as you need me to. As to a longer-term arrangement, let me think about it. I don’t have much keeping me in New York, but I just need to sit with the thought for a while. Okay?”

“Take as much time as you need.” Vail barely got out the words before a yawn overtook her and flooded her eyes with fluid. “I’ve gotta get to bed. I haven’t slept worth anything in days.”

“Don’t worry about anything here, Kari. You just work on finding out what happened to Robby. I’l handle the rest.”

Vail said good night to Jonathan, walked into her bedroom, and col apsed onto the mattress.

37

F
ollowing their dinner at Bistro Jeanty, Robby ordered dessert to go, and when
they arrived at their bed-and-breakfast room, he made her wait outside. When
she protested, he smiled. “You said you trusted me.”

She tilted her head back and looked up into his eyes. “I do.”

Inside, a room full of candles. And a night of passionate lovemaking . . .

Vail awoke from her dream curled into a tight bal . Her shirt was soaked, her hair matted to her face. Only this was not a nightmare—it was a memory. A memory of their last night together. The next morning, when she gave him a kiss on her way out, would be the last she would see of him.

Vail sat up in bed, wiped away the tears, and steeled herself. It was time to go to work.

VAIL WALKED INTO the behavioral analysis unit and found it a flurry of activity.

Despite Thomas Gifford’s claim that most of the profilers were out on leave, on assignment, or engrossed in vital projects, there was plenty going on.

Vail entered her office and sat down heavily. A stack of files on the corner of her desk was exactly as she had left it when she departed for California. A pile of messages was skewered on a pin to the right. She pul ed them off, flipped through them, determined that none were time sensitive, and put them back on their holder.

Except one: a reminder of her forthcoming counseling appointment with Dr.

Leonard Rudnick.

She turned on her PC and watched as Windows booted up. While she sat there, she began to acknowledge the feeling she’d been fighting for days: that Robby had been murdered. The blood on the carpet in the B&B bothered her. If tests showed it was Robby’s, it would increase the odds of a violent confrontation that Robby likely did not survive.

Though it was a fair amount of blood, it was not of sufficient volume to indicate a body had bled out in that spot. But if he’d been shot or stabbed—certainly possible.

Then again, he could’ve been moved—he wasn’t left there, so how soon after whatever violence befel him was he taken away? Or was that not his blood at al ?

Vail opened Outlook and scanned through her mail. There was a message from Dixon, which came through yesterday around the time Vail was climbing into bed.

As if Vail had sensed it, Dixon was writing her about a fol ow-up note regarding the blood on the carpet. She had spoken with the owner of the B&B, who said she knew about it, and claimed it was from a suicide attempt two or three years ago.