Chapter Eleven #2
She couldn’t say she wanted anywhere near the case.
She hadn’t volunteered for the consult because she was over interested in a billionaire’s niece.
She’d used QM access to search for Whit.
But the case was why she was here. In the process, she’d endangered Quaid, but the choice put these people behind her in the hunt for Mercer. What a tangled mess.
“Refer him to me if he has a problem with our approach.” Quaid steepled his fingers, his eyes focused on the same piece of art she’d tried to use.
“He’s not going to take that well.”
“He’s a rich man who thinks he has all the power. I can handle him.” Quaid’s neutral face was back.
Harrison rose. “I need more coffee, and I hear there is food in the dayroom. I’ll get the boards moved.”
He left, shutting the door behind him.
Quaid leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. “What’s your gut instinct about Esme?”
“If I go strictly by my experience and crime statistics, she’s dead. The emotional hopes of a fifteen year old wants it different.”
“So, it’s worth it to search. What would her body tell us?”
She stayed quiet for a minute, trying to be pragmatic and find the truth. “Cause of death. Timing, prints and hair, but that’s doubtful. I didn’t say it was a professional decision. I want her to be alive. She was my friend, and he was raping and hurting her.”
Quaid gazed at her, eyes tracing her face. “Sometimes we can’t have what we want. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. We don’t work with probable cause here. We decide based on what we can find.”
“It’s why people come to you. You’ll look when the police give up.”
“Yeah, it’s why Frank gets so testy with us, because the man tries, but he’s inside a system where he has to prove in a court of law what happened, and we aren’t.”
“Unfortunately, I work in that system, too.”
“You’ve read all the files we have on Tenney’s niece. What would you tell him when he calls?”
“You don’t need advice, but until he’s ready to quit protecting his family and provide all the necessary information, there’s nothing you can do for him.
He has to want the truth more than he wants to cover his secrets.
All the facts are part of the full picture, and justice isn’t always delivered by a court of law. ”
Quaid rose and put out his hand. She took it.
How could she not? She wasn’t having second dithering thoughts.
She was going forward. And she should take her own advice.
She was protecting herself, not scrubbing every fact.
That had to stop, or Mercer would win. What he intended as his prize – her death?
Quaid’s? No. Neither of those were okay.
“Let’s go get food. After, we’ll get started with your whiteboards, and I’ll watch you dump info from your pretty little brain. We’ll see where we land.”
The warmth of his hand pulled her back to the night hours when she’d gone to him in a fight or flight mode.
He’d pulled her in and taken care with her.
That left her confused, stunned, intrigued?
He held her hand until the elevator opened on the fourth floor, and Remy came to them with a question for Quaid.
&&&&&&&&&&
Quaid watched ‘Dr. Williams’ sink into the thing she was good at.
Black marker in hand, she’d been making lists and drawing graphs, and a picture of Mercer was emerging.
His Lani was submerged in the information and a part of him wanted to drop this and go home.
Pulling her onto his lap and necking was a stellar idea.
Because all this murder, violence, and mayhem was pushing the warrior into needing to act.
Alanna turned to him. “You’re growling. Could you stop?”
Quaid tossed the picture Hunt had supplied and stood up. “Can’t remember why he’s familiar.” He waved at the boards. “This is not helping me.”
“Well, it’s his inner psychological workings, so it wouldn’t. You’re not going to identify every motive. It’s why you aren’t seeing it. Try focusing on where?” She bit the end of the marker and studied the board.
“I get where you’re going with this. Right side is the assassin. There’s seventeen cases where Hunt’s intelligence group identified his pattern. Not sure that tells us anything.” He studied Alanna’s face.
“He used the sniper profession to provide cover for his killing, yet we have so few cases to back up the premise. But the methods of the two are definite – sniper rifle and explosives, for one, then knives and physical violence for the other.” She drew another line on the chart, then stood motionless, frowning.
“What?”
“Two hours ago, I stayed away from the windows because of his sniper skills.”
“Prudent. Don’t second guess a gut instinct.”
“You’re right.” She popped the cap back on the marker.
“The left side is his serial killing, his compulsion.”
She pointed at the list. “To which we only have my verified incident with him and Esme. What we need is to backtrack his personal life – since we have his name, we can search locations, check police reports, and see if we can find other missing women. If we checked in Spain at the same time as Hunt’s mission and examined their missing, we might have somewhere to start, but we need to backtrack to his hometown and search there first. The compulsion started somewhere.
Usually as a kid or in high school. Are you listening to me? ”
Quaid swiveled in his chair and stood. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing at the tension there.
“We’ve been at this too long, getting too close, and I’m not sure we have contacts in Spain.
Grandfather has hotels there, but direct law enforcement connections?
I don’t think so. It might be something Hunt’s intelligence unit can get at, though. I’ll ask.”
“Mercer was here in San Diego when I lived in the streets and as early as a month ago. Maybe we don’t have to extend our reach.
We search San Diego. He has to have a house, an apartment, or a room he’s using for a hide when he’s here.
There have to be other victims, too. Frank could explore cases specific to that information.
It would give us a playing field. He attacked Esme here and yesterday attacked two thirteen year olds.
Esme was sixteen, a year older than me. Where is Anders Barton from? ”
Quaid dropped his hands and pulled his computer around to pinpoint Barton’s hometown. “Listed as Baltimore, Maryland.”
“Well, Whit was from San Diego. It’s why he came back here when he got out, so the military was their first meet.” She scribbled the note on the board. “Basic?”
“Yes. They split to Rangers and Green Beret after graduating. Their Airborne dates don’t even overlap.”
Alanna scribbled a list. Baltimore, Maryland, Fort Jackson, SC, and Fort Benning now Moore, San Diego.
“So they both went through Fort Jackson.” The fort name went on another list along with the other places Mercer had been.
Quaid scanned the board. “Let’s set this aside, and we’ll review it with Mackey. This was his entry route, too, I believe. Fort Jackson to Fort Benning to Fort Bragg now Liberty. He went Delta not Green Beret, but the pipeline is similar for all three.”
She started another list. Mackey and Frank’s names appeared. “Should we have had Kerry stop looking for Esme?”
“What do you think?” He wasn’t signing off on anything she still felt strongly about.
“She should work on some of these searches. She’s thorough and has a good sense when something isn’t right. She could also refocus on Tenney.”
“Up to you. Honestly, the search that is the most important right now is San Diego. We have two different times when he’s been here and looking for victims here makes sense.
“Depends on when he last killed, honestly.”
“Could the assassinations tide him over?”
“Possibly.”
“How did you decide he had serial killing tendencies? We have scant evidence of that here.”
“I’ve had years to analyze what happened. I talked to Whit once about it, too. He didn’t tell me much, but he warned me to stay away because Mercer was dangerous.”
“Warning of a protective guardian or was he a witness?”
“Might explain Iraq if Mercer tried murdering there, too. There’s too much of the trail missing. But if I stick to facts, we know he killed Esme, he’s tried to kill Whit.”
“And he tried to kill you.”
“I can’t figure that out unless he’s cleaning house and doesn’t want any witnesses left behind. But why now?”
“Again, let’s investigate San Diego.”
“Next step, then, is to see Frank.”
The afternoon was fading to dark, but if he knew the cop, the man was still at work.
“Let’s get out of here and go find him.”
She turned wide-eyes to him. The last two hours of dumping what she knew had taken it’s toll. “I’m in.”
“When we’re finished at the PD, we’ll go home, eat whatever delicious thing Niles has cooked for dinner, then there’s a bathtub with your name on it.”
She groaned. “I like it.”
Again he took her hand. She didn’t fight it. Progress came in little celebrations.