“Time to try for a search warrant?” Kayla asked after Jericho and Fernandez had run over the case with her. The bags under her eyes were more pronounced than usual and there were a few lines on her forehead Jericho hadn’t noticed before, but she seemed focused on her work. “The problem is, we still haven’t got much more than your instincts. I mean, it’sstrangefor this guy to have been on the periphery of two cases that are so similar to each other, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough for a judge.”
“And we’d be tipping him off,” Jericho said. He’d come in to the office to find the interrogation room empty, but knew nothing else about what had happened with Wade the night before. Best to keep his mind on the case, especially since the feds wouldn’t tell him anything even if he did ask. “Right now, Wooderson still thinks he got away with this, and that might be useful. Unless we think we’re going to find something useful with a search warrant, I’m not sure there’s a point to it.”
“But if we don’t do that, what elsedowe do?” Fernandez asked. She didn’t appear any better rested than Kayla. What did it say that of the three of them, Jericho seemed to have had the best night’s sleep, and he’d been lying on a hard floor in a rodent-infested cabin? Then again, he couldn’t see himself—maybe he looked just as shitty as they did.
“How long do we keep Will locked up?” Jericho asked. “If we cut him loose, Wooderson’s going to know something’s going on, but I checked on him this morning and he seems pretty rough. The deputies are doing as much as they can to keep him calm, but he’s locked up, he’s fucked up from whatever he saw—we need to start making things better for him, soon.”
Kayla sighed as if the air was being pushed out of her body by a great weight. “One thing we have to do—and I know you aren’t going to like it, Jay, and I can’t say I like it much myself—we need to talk to the FBI. If we are dealing with a serial killer—an interstate serial killer—that’s their gig. Unless they order us off, we can keep investigating the local case, and, Detective Fernandez, you can keep investigating things in Akron. But looking for links between the two? That’s FBI territory.”
Jericho knew she was right, and a part of him welcomed the idea of making all this someone else’s problem. He was a small-town under-sheriff, and even when he’d been in LA working homicide, he’d never dealt with a serial killer. It was a totally different mind-set, and he only had training, not experience, to help him understand it. He didn’twantto understand it. So why not let go?
“Will they take it seriously?” he asked. “Like you said, it’s almost all instinct right now, not much real evidence.”
“I think they’ll consider it, yeah. We have to give them the chance.”
“And Will? Can we cut him loose while they’re looking at it?”
Kayla made a face. “That’s the prosecutor’s call. I’ll update her, see what she wants to do. I imagine it’ll mostly depend on the FBI response.”
“Okay.” Jericho turned to Fernandez. “You okay with that? Have you got a next step in mind for yourself?”
“I want to reexamine the brother’s death,” she said, “and do some more digging into the background there. See what’s going on in this fucker’s brain.”
Kayla spoke carefully. “Is your department going to support you in that investigation?”
“My department wants me to shut up and let it go. It’s a closed case, after all.” Fernandez looked at Kayla, then turned to Jericho. “But some cases, youcan’tlet go. The case won’t letyougo. This one?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what my department wants. I’m on this case until Keith Wooderson goes down, or until I do. So, yeah, you need to bring the feds in. I get it, and if they take it seriously, that’s great. They know about this shit. But if they don’t take it seriously? That’s not going to even slow me down. I’ve got interviews set up back in Ohio, reviewing Wooderson’s past using the new focus we’ve got on this case, but if you need me up here for anything, you give me a call and I’m here.”
“Okay,” Kayla said. “We haven’t got a lot of financial resources to offer, but we’re definitely interested in sharing information. And unless you object, I’ll get in touch with your department and let them know we’re reviewing the case up here and are planning to involve the FBI.”
“Can’t hurt,” Fernandez said. “Thanks.”
And that was that. Jericho and Fernandez spent some more time going over their respective cases, making sure they hadn’t missed anything, and then Fernandez left for the airport. Jericho stared at the files on his desk for a few minutes before he pushed to his feet. He was going on patrol. Community policing, being a visible presence, observing and understanding—he didn’t care what jargon he could use as an excuse. He was restless, and he didn’t want to stare at paper anymore.
His drive started fairly responsibly with a tour through the rough areas on the edges of the town. There were a lot of people out there who would do well to be reminded that there was law enforcement keeping an eye on things, and he needed to maintain his feel for the streets.
It was harder to justify his decision to cruise down Main Street, slowing outside Scotty Hawk’s garage before coming to his senses and driving on. He was on the clock, in uniform, driving a damn squad car. It wasnotthe time for acting like a teenager scoping out his crush.
But when he got to the hardware store, he didn’t hesitate before pulling into a parking spot and heading for the door. Didn’t hesitate at all, not until he saw the man standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Wooderson,” he said, keeping his voice as level as he could.Be cool, don’t blow it, don’t lose the war because you want to win a battle.“How are your daughters? Not still shaken up, I hope?”
“They’re recovering.” Wooderson smiled calmly, but there was an unfamiliar intensity to his voice as he added, “I heard you went by the school, asking about them. Or were you asking aboutme?”
Jericho should have been chagrined. Hell, he should have been something stronger than that. He hadn’t pushed Mrs. Andarov for confidentiality because he’d thought it would make hermorelikely to spread the word. And now his actions had come back to bite him in the ass. Wooderson knew Jericho had been looking into him, and the bastard probably had at least some idea of what had been discovered. It was a serious problem for the case. But instead of being upset, Jericho felt a strange sense of glee. Enough sneaking around and setting up strategies. It was time for the endgame to begin.
“I like to know who I’m dealing with,” Jericho said calmly. “You’re new to town, and I was hoping to get a bit of background. I hope you don’t mind?”You don’t have anything to hide, do you, asshole?
“No,” Wooderson said with a seemingly genuine smile. “I don’t mind at all. I’m very pleased, really.” He peered into the hardware store, then back at Jericho. “It’s much nicer in there, now, don’t you think? Without that animal roaming around, dirtying the place up? Animals shouldn’t live with humans.”
“When you say animal, you mean Will?”Youarethat much of an asshole?“You thought he interfered with your hardware shopping experience? That must have been really, really terrible for you.”
“But not anymore,” Wooderson said. He was breathing strangely, as if he’d been walking too fast and was just a little out of breath. “Now, it’s fine.”
“Wow. Lucky. Or maybe not just luck?” This was the dynamic Fernandez had described. Woodersondidwant to share, want to gloat, want to make law enforcement know he’d beaten them and was out of reach. It was part of the thrill, part of his motivation.
“I don’t believe in luck,” Wooderson said. “I believe in creating opportunities, and then following through with bold action.”
“Is that right? Can you give me an example of how that might happen? Like, in this case. You didn’t like having an animal messing up your hardware store, so . . . you created an opportunity?”
