Looking and asking questions.
“I mean it. Bowes?”
The caffeine-laced officer’s legs were bouncing up and down. Vaughn wanted to reach out and grab his knee, make him stop.
“Everything was operated remotely. Whoever’s behind this knew what they were doing. Covered their tracks.”
Vaughn didn’t think that Captain Daniels’s frown could get any deeper.
It did.
“What about this guy who managed to get away?”
“Delaney dispatched a team to look for him. Haven’t seen him yet this morning,” Vaughn said.
“We’re making progress,” Darnell blurted.
Vaughn cringed, glanced at his partner.
Why the fuck would you say that?
But he knew why. Senior detective and all that. Trying to save face, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t passed out and missed last night’s ordeal.
Daniels cocked his head, ran a hand through his thick white hair.
“Progress?”
“I mean—”
“Eleven dead? Two crime scenes? Two more missing canisters of gas?”Fucking Delaney.“You call that progress?”
Vaughn saw Darnell open his mouth to say something, but he smartly remained silent.
“Didn’t think so. And where the fuck were you last night?”
Darnell scowled and Bowes shifted uncomfortably. It was a rhetorical question. Everyone in the room where Darnell was. If notwhere, for surewhathe was doing.
“You guys have forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours and then I’m—Detective Ryan, would you answer your fucking phone?”
“What?”
“Your phone,” Bowes said under his breath.
Vaughn looked down. At some point, he must have switched his phone to silent—probably before he’d gone to bed—and turned off the vibrate function, too. The flashlight, however, was lighting up his slacks. He took it out.
“It’s Delaney.”
“Answer it.”
Vaughn did.
“Delan—”
“I caught him! I fucking caught him, Vaughn!”
“What? Who?”
“The unsub! Our guy!”
