“Interesting. He’s the one your father told you tried to kill him? That he was nuts?”
“Yes. My father told me that was why Belinda shouldn’t have kids. She had too many crazy genes in her. My father also told me that Belinda was already well on her way to being as nuts as her father. I think I’ll call the shrinks at San Quentin and see what they have to say about it.”
He rose. “Go ahead and call San Quentin, that’s a good idea. You want to ride downtown with me?”
Ollie greeted her with a hug and began talking immediately about a string of kidnappings and murders in Missouri. “It’s the same perps, that’s pretty well established. They kidnap a rich couple’s child, get a huge ransom, then kill the kid. Actually, it’s likely that they kill the kid immediately, then string the parents along. There have been three of them, the most recent one in Hannibal, you know, the birthplace of Mark Twain. These folk are real monsters, Sherlock. They drown the kids in bathtubs, then after they have the ransom, they call the parents and tell them where to get their child.”
She felt rage deep inside her. She took a deep breath. After all, monsters were their business. She understood that, she accepted it, and wanted to get them put away, that or get them on death row. But children. That was more than monstrous. Once they had Marlin and Erasmus, she wanted to concentrate on the kidnappers. No, they were murderers, the kidnapping really didn’t count.
She went back to her desk and booted up her computer. Dillon had put a lion on her screen, and he roared at her out of the small speakers on either side of the console. She heard two agents shouting at each other. She heard a woman laugh, saw a Coke can go flying past her desk, heard the agent shout his thanks. She heard the hum of the Xerox, someone cursing the fax machine, heard an agent speak in that deep, rich FBI voice on the phone. Everything was back to normal chaos. Only it wasn’t, not for her, at least not yet.
Marlin Jones was still free. Belinda’s killer, whoever that was, was still out there. She just prayed that both Marlin and Erasmus were in Ohio, with the state police getting really close. She hoped the police would just take both of them out.
She looked up to see Ollie stretching. “Anything new on Missouri?”
Ollie shook his head. “Nothing, nada, zippo. But you know, I got this funny feeling in my gut. I just know that we’re going to get the perps. Despite MAXINE being really stumped on this one, I just know it’s going to come to an end soon now.”
She sighed. “I hope so.” But what she was thinking about was smoke and mirrors. Her life seemed filled with smoke and mirrors. Everyone looked back at her, but their faces weren’t real, and she wondered if they were looking at her or at someone they thought was she. No one seemed as he really was. Except for Dillon.
“You haven’t called Chico for a karate lesson,” Dillon said as he revved up the engine of his 911 just after six o’clock that evening in the parking garage.
“Tomorrow. I swear I’ll call this madman of yours tomorrow.”
“You’ll like Chico. He’s skinny as a lizard and can take out guys twice his size. It will be good training for you.”
“Hey, can he take you out?”
“Are you crazy? Naturally not.” He gave her a fat smile. “Chico and I respect each other.”
“You going to tromp me into the ground tonight?”
“Sure. Be my pleasure. Let’s swing by your place and pack up some more things for you.” Actually, he wanted all of her things at his house. He never wanted her to move back to her town house, but he held his tongue. It was too soon.
But it was Lacey who swung by her own town house, Dillon having gotten a call on his cell phone. He dropped her off at home for her car, then headed back to headquarters. “An hour, no longer. There’s this senator who wants to stick his nose into the kidnappings in Missouri. I’ve got to give an update.”