The man’s name was Rory Gresham. He was thirty-four years old and pretty much a laundry list of trouble. When he was twenty-one he had applied to work for Dallas PD, but had been rejected when he couldn’t pass the psychological profile test. He’d gone on to attend Texas A&M, like Elliot, also studying engineering, and had held a good job at the City Planner’s office until about a year ago when he’d been fired for aggressive behavior against his colleagues.
After the tackle they’d shared in that alley, Tanner felt quite familiar with Rory’s aggressive tendencies.
Rory had spent the last year with time on his hands and revenge on his mind.
Based on the information in the chat room Bree had found, it looked like Rory was the mastermind behind most of this plan. He definitely wanted to stick it to the Dallas PD and to the Dallas city government in general.
He was in custody now, Penelope questioning him with his lawyer present. His victim, Alice Cornick, had been taken to the hospital but, like Jean Adams, didn’t seem to have any serious physical injuries.
If Tanner had to bet, he would say that Rory was probably the one responsible for the deaths of Shelby and Kelly Quinn. The man wanted to make sure everything was perfect, that there was nothing in the late stages of the game that he would have to factor into consideration. By all accounts, in both his college classes and at his job, he’d been considered brilliant, if not able to work with others.
According to Penelope, all he’d said so far was that the Dallas PD could go to hell. They should have hired him when they had the chance.
Bree’s shoulders were getting more and more tense as she worked. He’d hoped that the victim they got to next would be Christina, the woman from the shelter who reminded Breeso much of her friend. That would take at least a little of the pressure off her.
When his phone rang in his pocket and he saw it was Greg Lightfoot, he stepped away from Bree’s desk so he wouldn’t disturb her.
“Talk to me, Greg.”
“Tanner, I’m at Parkland Hospital myself. I can confirm that Michael Jeter is in custody.”
Tanner felt the pressure that had been sitting on his chest like a rock ease at Greg’s words.
“You have eyes on him yourself?”
“That’s an affirmative. Jeter’s face was burned pretty bad. But I personally sat there and watched the US Marshals run Jeter’s fingerprints. And then I had them do a match to a physical print, not a computer match. I’m well aware of what Jeter can do to all things computer.”
“Damn fine thinking, Greg.”
“It’s him, Tanner. And given the state he’s in, Bree does not have to worry about him coming after her anytime soon.”
“The hospital is notorious for less security. Make sure whoever is standing guard is aware that any remaining friends Jeter has might use this opportunity to try to break him out.”
“Will do. Are you and Bree working this drowning case?”
Tanner swallowed a curse. “Did news break about it?”
“Yeah. Not a lot of details, but that’s some messed-up stuff.”
“Believe me, you don’t know the half of it. Thanks for going to the hospital and checking yourself, Greg. Let me know if you learn anything else.”
Tanner discussed a few more details with Greg, then disconnected the call. He immediately walked over to Bree.
“I just got off the phone with Greg. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
Her head tilted to the side. “Good news.”
“Greg went to the hospital himself and confirmed that Jeter was indeed there. He’s got some burns on his face, but Greg watched as they ran his fingerprints and compared them to a physical copy. No computers.”
For the first time, Bree actually stopped her typing and gave him her full attention. “It was really him? The prison bus accident was really just an accident with really crappy timing for us?”
He nodded. “I know it’s hard to believe, but in this case, yes. I think it might have all just been a coincidence. Of course, I’m making damn well sure everyone knows what a danger Jeter and his remaining friends are. But right now it looks like he’s in pretty bad condition anyway. Couldn’t be much of a risk to you even if he wanted to.”
She nodded and let out a deep breath. “Okay. Then Jeter is officially a problem for another day.”
“Yup.” He cupped her cheek. “But whatever day Jeter decides to show up I’m going to be right next to you waiting for him.”
Her smile made him want to pull her into his arms, but they had the bad news to deal with first.
