Chapter 30
“Wow, were you smitten or what?”
Vaughn started the car.
“What are you talking about?”
“You were fucking googly-eyed!”
“I was not.”
Darnell placed a hand on his heart.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have shown you the picture. Oh, Dr. Reeves, milady, please accept my apology.”
His impression of Vaughn was terrible.
“Whatever. Let’s just focus.”
“Focus on what? I didn’t understand anything the Bae-sian Prof said, either. Fucking math riddles.”
“We’ve narrowed our suspect pool a little. Whoever sent that email knows math.”
Darnell rolled his eyes.
“Great, so we’re looking for a psycho math genius.”
Beneath his partner’s joking words were undertones of disbelief.
Vaughn understood.
The media often portrayed serial killers as these super intelligent individuals—and the public ate that shit up, for reasons Vaughn didn’t understand.
It simply wasn’t true. Some were of average intelligence. Some were below. Occasionally above.
The only true fact that could be said about all serial killers Vaughn had ever come across or studied was that they were narcissists.
Each and every one of them.
Vaughn’s dash radio came to life—it was Delaney.
Darnell grunted disapprovingly.
“Hey, Delaney, what’s up?”
“I found Aaron’s car. Two of the others’, too.”
The man sounded tired.
“Where?”
“Pizza place in Fredon Township. ‘Bout a mile and a half from the barn.”
“On our way.”
PPD Officer Frank Delaney was standing with his hands on his hips when Vaughn and Darnell arrived.
The pizza joint, CiCi’s Pizza, was located off Route 94 South. Large lot, old building. Red roof, wheelchair ramp out front.
Delaney looked spent. His hair, which Darnell had remarked on numerous occasions that the man fashioned to look exactly like Vaughn’s, was a mess.
If the cop hadn’t been so tired, Vaughn might have guessed that this was another deliberate, accurate attempt at copying him.
“You okay?”
Delaney nodded.
“Yeah. Just . . . you know how it is. Telling someone that their husband is dead is the fucking worst.”
Oh, Vaughn knew, alright. And it was the one job that he was glad Darnell had passed off to Delaney.
“What happened?”
Delaney shrugged, let out a long breath.
“Just what she said on the phone. Basically, her husband went out for some game show thing and never came home. It was him—victim number three. Showed a photo and she confirmed it. Then she just . . . broke.”
Delaney had a far-off look in his eyes, and Vaughn gave him a moment.
Darnell did not.
“What did she know about the game?”
“Nothing. I mean, she was completely destroyed. Said something about not having any money, about how they’d been forced to cancel Harrison’s life insurance policy just a few weeks back.
That’s name, by the way. Harrison. This was supposed to be their chance, you know?
And they had this kid . . . a fucking baby. Just kept wailing.”
The man shuddered.
“She didn’t know anything about the game?”
“No.”
“You said she mentioned the game when she reported her missing husband on the 911 call.”
“Yeah, I heard the call; that’s what she said.”
“Did you even ask her about it?”
“Darnell . . .” Vaughn warned.
“Of course I asked her,” Delaney shot back. “She said she didn’t know. Only that Harrison said he was going to a game show, said that it was a secret and he couldn’t say more.”
“You sure you asked her?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, man! I asked her! She didn’t know.”
Darnell grimaced.
“The fuck were you guys doing? I’ve been running around all over the place trying to—”
“Hey, we’re the detectives here. Not you. You do as we fucking say, alright? Got a problem with that, talk to the captain.”
Darnell stepped forward aggressively and Vaughn slid between them.
“Calm down—just calm the fuck down, both of you.”
And leave the captain out of this.
The fact that the grumpy old man hadn’t butted in already was a miracle. Vaughn wanted to keep it this way for as long as possible.
Delaney backed off while Darnell remained rooted in place.
“Darnell, do me a solid?” Vaughn said.
“What?”
Darnell didn’t take his eyes off Delaney.
“Head into CiCi’s and ask the owner if they recognize Aaron or any of the other victims?”
I’m too old to be a babysitter. And he’s supposed to be the senior detective.
When Darnell didn’t move, Vaughn prodded again.
“Darnell?”
The man finally stopped glaring at Delaney.
“Yeah, whatever.”
He stomped off.
“Sorry about that. Show me Aaron’s car.”