CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Jessie knew something was wrong even before the jet’s wheels touched down in Santa Cruz.
Webb had gotten a call as they were making their final descent. He listened intently with his mouth open wide enough to catch flies. After about twenty seconds, he spoke.
“Yes, I’ll wait,” he said quietly, then looked over at her. “Nicole Thorington is dead. So is the officer who was guarding her.”
Jessie felt her mouth go dry. A combination of guilt and anger filled her.
She’d assumed that no killer would be so brazen as to attack one of Jason Mannix’s “wives” when she had the police right there at her home.
But why would someone who had slit the throats of two women in two days suddenly be guided by caution? She should have known better.
“Killed the same way?” she asked.
He nodded as the jet wheels hit the runway.
“Both of their throats were cut. I didn’t ask them to check for taser marks but I think they’re a safe bet,” he said, then stopped talking as the person on the line had apparently resumed speaking.
Jessie turned away from him. The guilt was giving way to anger now. The person responsible for these crimes was pitiless. She imagined each of these victims, immobile but still conscious, watching as the knife was placed against their throat, powerless to protect themselves.
The familiar pit of fury in her gut started to make its way up to her chest. Sensing its creeping power, Jessie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Then she opened them again and looked out the window of the jet, hoping to find something small to focus on; something that could absorb and diminish her rage.
Her eyes settled on a bird of some kind that was hopping along on the grass beside the runway.
She thought it might be a seagull but didn’t know enough to say for sure.
Rather than guess, she focused instead on its spindly legs, which somehow supported its weight as it bounced enthusiastically beside the slowing jet. Then it stopped.
Without warning it dipped its beak into the grass and triumphantly pulled out a worm, which it tossed in the air, and then swallowed in one satisfied gulp. After a second, the happy hopping resumed.
Jessie glanced back from the window to Webb, who had just hung up. The fury in her chest had mostly faded, replaced by something closer to quiet determination. She was grateful for the alternative.
“What did they say?” she asked.
Webb swallowed hard before speaking, reminding her a little of the bird outside. He looked visibly rattled. He was still holding his phone, repeatedly squeezing it and then loosening his grip. His eyes were fluttering and it looked like he might faint.
“What did they say, Webb?” she repeated, hoping to snap him out of whatever this was.
“The officer watching Thorington—his name was Herrera—was talking to his supervisor on the phone when he was attacked. I guess the supervisor could hear the phone fall and then a gasping sound soon after. He sent a patrol car to the scene immediately. The unit arrived less than four minutes after the call went out. But by then, both of them were dead and the suspect was gone.”
“I assume CSU and the medical examiner are there?”
“On their way,” he said vaguely. “This all happened less than a half hour ago.”
“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s get over there as fast as we can. Maybe in the rush to get out of the house, the killer was sloppier than at the other scenes.”
Webb nodded absently as his eyes clouded over. She didn’t know what was up with the guy but she needed him to snap out of it.
“What’s the problem, Webb?” she demanded.
His eyes cleared up though he still looked off.
“I told you before that I’ve never dealt with a serial killer before,” he said.
“In every other case I’ve worked, the person responsible was no longer an ongoing threat, except maybe if they tried to escape capture.
But we knew how to deal with that. This is new territory for me.
Whoever did this seems willing to go anywhere and kill anyone. It’s a lot.”
Some small part of Jessie felt for the guy.
He was right. This was a lot. And for someone unused to cases like this, it was understandably overwhelming.
But he had known this case involved multiple murders when he took charge of it and unceremoniously dumped Karen Bray.
This was his rodeo. And he needed to get a grip.
“Webb,” she began before switching it up, “Carl, I get that this is a lot to grasp all at once. But we don’t have the luxury of time to process it like we normally would. Whoever did this is on the loose. We have no idea who they are or what their next move is. So, we need to act fast.”
“What do you suggest we do?” he asked, sounding like a lost child more than a special agent.
“First, we’ll go to Nicole Thorington’s home and learn whatever we can,” she said firmly.
“I see an SUV pulling up beside the jet right now. On the way, I’ll call a friend of mine with the U.S.
Marshals. He’ll contact their Fresno office and have their people take Allyson Rhodes into protective custody.
Nothing against the Fresno police but this is a different threat level now and we need folks watching her who do it for a living.
Luckily, Fresno is a three-hour drive from Santa Cruz, so as long as we’re dealing with just one killer, there should be time to get her safely hidden.
By the way, they’re opening the jet door. Let’s get up.”
“Okay,” Webb said uncertainly.
“While we’re in the car and I’m calling the Marshals, you’ll be coordinating with the local Bureau of Investigation’s communication people.”
“Why?” Webb asked apprehensively.
“Because you’re going to have to hold a press conference,” she told him.
“We don’t know the extent of this killer’s reach.
Are they just going after Jason Mannix’s fake wives?
Are they going after anyone who ever dated him?
We need to get his photo on TV screens so that any woman who ever interacted with him romantically can take the necessary precautions. ”
“But won’t that make him look like a suspect?” he asked. “We could be opening the Bureau up to legal liability now that we know he didn’t do this.”
“First of all, we don’t know that,” she corrected.
“The possibility that he hired someone is still live. I doubt it but we’d be wise not to make any assumptions.
More importantly, I don’t care. If showing Mannix’s face makes potential victims take steps to protect themselves, he can sue the state all he wants.
But I’m guessing a guy involved in four fake marriages won’t be prioritizing that. ”
Webb seemed unconvinced.
“Listen,” she said. “We’re dealing with someone brutal here, a multiple murderer who is now a cop killer too. This is no time for half measures. You wanted to handle a big-time case. You’ve got it. Now you have to step up. Can I count on you, Webb?”
His nod was far weaker than she would have liked, not that it mattered. When it came down to it, the only person she could count on right now was herself. She felt up to the task.
But she worried that wouldn’t be enough to stop the slaughter.