Vail 01 - The 7th Victim (53 page)
Bledsoe sighed deeply, his eyes focused on the second hand as it swept around the clock face. At two minutes past midnight, with the ECG monitor registering an unending flat line, the warden pronounced Richard Ray Singletary dead.
“Shit,” Bledsoe muttered under his breath.
Vail nodded. “Shit.”
sixty-one
T
he flight back on the governor’s private charter was quiet. No one spoke. Vail could not help thinking they were back to square one. As much as they knew, as much information they had garnered from the various crime scenes, they still had no clue as to who Dead Eyes was. No suspects. Just pages and pages of information, gruesome photos, and for all they knew, useless analyses.
he flight back on the governor’s private charter was quiet. No one spoke. Vail could not help thinking they were back to square one. As much as they knew, as much information they had garnered from the various crime scenes, they still had no clue as to who Dead Eyes was. No suspects. Just pages and pages of information, gruesome photos, and for all they knew, useless analyses.
Vail stretched out her legs, and a sudden spark of pain in her left knee took her breath. She pulled out a small bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol and popped two caplets. She realized she had almost finished the thirty-count bottle in less than three days. She promised herself that the next time she saw Dr. Altman she would ask him to look at the knee and give her something stronger for the pain. Even if it required treatment, she had no time. She needed to stay on top of things until they caught Dead Eyes. Along with Jonathan’s condition, the case had become the focus, dare she think it,
obsession,
of her life.
obsession,
of her life.
She reclined her seat and thought of Robby. She missed his touch, his warmth, his scent. It was a strange feeling, losing oneself so totally in another’s person. Had she not had everything else hanging over her head, she might have been able to revel in falling in love. It had been so long. She had only experienced it twice, the first time in junior high school, and then again with Deacon. Deacon happened fast, and then she quickly became pregnant with Jonathan. She didn’t think Deacon was a mistake at the time, but history was not as kind in retrospect.
The Lear jet banked left and the lights of the small private landing strip came into view. She tightened her belt and turned to face Thomas Underwood, who was sitting to her right. “I enjoyed working with you.”
“I wish the end result could’ve been better.”
“Me, too.”
“If there’s anything more I can do, please don’t hesitate.”
Vail let a small smile escape the right side of her mouth. “I could use your help writing a paper on the identification of signature within MO. Would you consider coauthoring it with me?”
“Absolutely. Of course, that’s assuming you’re not really the Dead Eyes killer.”
“Of course.” She rested her head against the seatback and closed her eyes as the plane hovered above the landing strip. The wheels caught with a slight screech, and she was home.
She knew Robby would be waiting up for her.
sixty-two
T
urning points. Turning points seem to remain with you after other memories have long since faded, like a lone flower that remains in bloom amongst a basket of dried leaves. As he sat pecking away, he tapped into the emotions that led to his establishing his independence so many years ago. For him, a turning point like this was not just a thriving blossom but an entire bouquet.
urning points. Turning points seem to remain with you after other memories have long since faded, like a lone flower that remains in bloom amongst a basket of dried leaves. As he sat pecking away, he tapped into the emotions that led to his establishing his independence so many years ago. For him, a turning point like this was not just a thriving blossom but an entire bouquet.
I got tired of the beatings, of the prick doing things to me I didn’t want him to do. But I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off. I thought if I showed him I could fight back at least once or twice, he’d get the message to stay away. But it didn’t work, because he keeps coming for me. Still, I’ve been able to protect what’s important. He’ll never find the secret place. No one will ever find it.But I realized that there were things I could do to control my own life. Like at the slaughterhouse, they use meat hooks to hang the carcasses. And I got to thinking . . . the slabs of meat are real heavy. So I asked my boss if I could work in the meat prep area. He looked me up and down and saw that I’m pretty tall for my age, but scrawny. He said he didn’t think I could handle it, but I just started doing it on my own time. He saw I was determined to do it, and he finally said okay.I’ve also been spending an extra half hour doing exercises with the carcasses at the end of my shift. It’s as good as lifting weights, maybe even better. I’ve been able to lift the larger, heavier ones. So that’s where I’ve been working the last couple of months. And I feel like I’m now ready to take on the prick. . . .
A turning point indeed. He’d gained confidence in himself, a confidence that would lead to him gaining control over his life, perhaps for the first time. He realized that if there was something that needed to be done, he merely had to find a way to do it. It wasn’t a matter of
if
it could be done, but
how.
He’d always felt that way, from the time he found a way to haul the plywood from the store to his house a few miles away. But the stakes were higher then and he needed to know he could do the dirty work, confront the devil, and get the job done. Because there would be no turning back. Once he confronted the prick, it was do or die. And he wasn’t planning on dying.
if
it could be done, but
how.
He’d always felt that way, from the time he found a way to haul the plywood from the store to his house a few miles away. But the stakes were higher then and he needed to know he could do the dirty work, confront the devil, and get the job done. Because there would be no turning back. Once he confronted the prick, it was do or die. And he wasn’t planning on dying.
Now, decades later, he was facing the same demons again. Funny how life comes full circle. But he was wiser and ready for what was to come. No one would ever be able to tell him
no
again. Not anyone.
no
again. Not anyone.
He made sure of that.
sixty-three
T
he next morning, after lying awake most of the night, Vail quickly showered and dressed, then rushed to the hospital to be near Jonathan. There were times when she needed to hold his hand, stroke his cheek, pull him into her arms. It was a longing, whenever she was away from him, that she could only liken to being without food and water. After a time of doing without them, she had to find some to keep herself going. Seeing Jonathan, even in his current state, gave her the strength to go on. As Emma used to say when Jonathan was young, seeing him “recharged her batteries.” Though Vail found the analogy endearing, she now fully understood the reference.
he next morning, after lying awake most of the night, Vail quickly showered and dressed, then rushed to the hospital to be near Jonathan. There were times when she needed to hold his hand, stroke his cheek, pull him into her arms. It was a longing, whenever she was away from him, that she could only liken to being without food and water. After a time of doing without them, she had to find some to keep herself going. Seeing Jonathan, even in his current state, gave her the strength to go on. As Emma used to say when Jonathan was young, seeing him “recharged her batteries.” Though Vail found the analogy endearing, she now fully understood the reference.
NEARLY THREE HOURS after arriving at the hospital, Vail checked in at the op center. The lists were being crunched, but thus far there were no obvious hits. Just a few possibles, on which Robby and Manette were following up.
Vail left the op center and headed to the assisted care facility to finalize the paperwork. While en route, Vail called her Aunt Faye, who told her everything was ready for Emma’s move. Though Emma’s belongings were packed, there were many drawers and boxes that still needed to be sifted through, as Faye didn’t know what Vail wanted to dispose of and what she wanted to keep. “Then there’s your doll collection.”
Vail sighed. “There’s so much to take care of.”
“Don’t worry about the house,” Faye said. “Take care of Jonathan and your mom. I’ll make sure things are looked after until you’re ready to put the place up for sale.”
Vail thanked her and told her how much she appreciated the help.
“I’m bringing some boxes for you to look through when you have time,” Faye added. “At least that’ll be a few less for you to deal with when the time comes.”
They confirmed their plans to meet at the assisted care facility around three o’clock, then said good-bye.
After meeting briefly with the Silver Meadows facility manager, Vail fought back tears as she signed the papers. The contract was finalized. Emma’s room was now waiting for her.
VAIL’S PHONE RANG as she stepped into the parking lot. She wiped her eyes, cleared her throat, and answered the call. It was Jackson Parker, keeping her up-to-date on the status of her case. One remark he made that she found particularly intriguing was whether she had given thought to the possibility that Deacon could have murdered Linwood. The remainder of her drive back to the op center was consumed with thoughts regarding this possibility: The focus of the offender’s attention seemed to be around her; the personal connection would fit. And the killings began right around the time Vail had filed for divorce.
But how would Deacon have found out about Linwood’s relationship to her? More importantly, did Deacon fit her profile? In many respects, he did. She had to look at it objectively, removing all emotion. It was a very difficult thing for a profiler to do. Often, any personal involvement ruined his or her ability to keep a distance, to evaluate and analyze without bias.
She called Del Monaco, ran the scenario by him, and he agreed it was worth looking into. She closed her phone and shook her head. Once again, she had overlooked a most obvious lead, one right in front of her face. Regardless of whether it led somewhere, it was something she had not thought of. She would have to remember to thank Parker for the heads-up.
When she arrived at the op center, she told Bledsoe of the Deacon connection and then asked about Hancock.
“We’ve got a guy on him and he hasn’t been out of our sight. So far, nothing.”
“And the killer’s been dormant ever since you put the tail on him.”
“Coincidence?”
“Guess we’ll find out. Lab get anything on the stuff taken from his place?”
Bledsoe sat down heavily. “Nothing.”
“I was hoping we’d find something. Lot of times the killer keeps the trophies he takes from the vics in his place, so he can play with them when the urge hits him. But sometimes they have other places, just in case their houses are searched.”
Bledsoe said, “Hancock knows what we’d be looking for. And as arrogant as he is, if he is Dead Eyes, he’d be smart enough not to keep his trophies in a place we’d think to look.”
“Besides,” Vail said, “the vics are all killed in their own homes, so the dirt and blood are all offsite. If he changes clothes and dumps them en route, they’re long gone. Which leaves us nowhere.”
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