Inmate 1577

33

Vail had an idea, and acted on it swiftly. “Get in the car, Roxx. Burden-your keys.”

“My- For what?”

“Quick,” Vail said, running over to the driver’s door. “I’m going after Scheer.”

“For what?” He tossed her the keys. “You sure that’s smart?”

Vail didn’t answer. She was busy turning over the engine. Dixon was pulling on her seatbelt when Vail peeled away from the curb.

She leaned forward as she accelerated, struggling to keep an eye on Scheer’s disappearing vehicle.

“Find the light, Roxx. Flip it on.”

Dixon bent over and felt around, then found the round, magnetic device. She rolled down the window, turned it on, and then stuck it on the roof. “What do you have in mind?”

“A little blackmail. You in?”

“That’s kind of ambiguous, Karen. And blackmail is, uh, well, illegal.”

“Not real blackmail. Just some…creative coercion.”

“‘Creative coercion.’ Sounds to me like the new PC term for blackmail.”

Vail swerved around a car and accelerated. “I think we should use it, start a trend.”

Dixon grabbed onto the seat as Vail yanked the wheel hard to the left. “How about not?”

Vail had closed the gap between their Ford and Scheer’s Honda and were now forty or so feet behind him. The reporter’s brake lights flickered, he appeared to glance in his rearview mirror, and then he slowed his vehicle. A Prius to his right pulled to the curb and allowed Vail to pull up directly behind Scheer’s bumper.

As both cars came to a stop, Scheer remained in his vehicle.

“I don’t think he realizes it’s us,” Dixon said.

Vail shoved the gearshift into Park. “He’s gonna shit when he sees that it is.”

“Getting pulled over like that, he’s probably already shitting.”

Vail grinned. “Even better.” As she walked toward Scheer’s car, his expression was evident in the sideview mirror. He popped open his door and got out.

“Don’t you know that when a cop pulls you over, you’re supposed to remain in your vehicle?”

Scheer folded his arms and leaned back against the Honda. “What do you want?”

Vail looked across the car at Dixon. “A bit testy, brash…even arrogant. Don’t you think? Not the reaction we expected.” She turned back to Scheer. “How about showing some respect for a federal law enforcement officer?”

“So is that what this is? You pulled me over to harass me? Fine, go on. Have your fun.”

“Stephen,” Vail said with a pitying shake of her head. “I’m here to help you. We wanted to make you an offer.”

Scheer looked from Vail to Dixon. “What kind of offer?”

“I’ve got a story that’s surely front page material. And,” she said, rotating her watch to catch the streetlight, “looks like there’s still enough time to make your deadline.”

“Let me get this straight. You want to give me a story. After what you said to me yesterday? That’s a bit hard to believe.”

“It is hard to believe. No, I was thinking of making you the subject of a front-page article. The reporter who, pissed off at his former friend and colleague, decides to write some bullshit story that includes dangerous and irresponsible information that sets off a serial killer.”

“We hear your job’s in a bit of jeopardy,” Dixon said. “A piece like that might not sit well with your editor. Or the paper’s legal team. Might just put you over the edge.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Scheer said, his glance rotating between Vail and Dixon, no doubt gauging whether or not this was a joke. Or a bluff. “I’ve got a family to support.”

Vail took a step forward. “Tell you what. We’ll ask the woman whose house we just visited back there, and see if she’s in a forgiving mood. Oh, wait. We can’t ask her. She’s dead. Because of you.”

The muscles in Scheer’s jaw contracted, bulging from side to side.

“But,” Dixon said, “if you cooperated and helped us out, tell us who your source was for that article…” She shrugged.

“Then there’ll be no story,” Vail said. “Nothing will jeopardize your job. And you get to keep working at the Register until you fuck it up on your own, and get fired.”

“What do you say?”

“I’d say this is blackmail.”

“No, no,” Dixon said. “Creative coercion.”

Vail lifted her brow. “See? Has a nice ring. Don’t you think?”

Dixon bobbed her head. “I didn’t at first. But it’s growing on me.”

“So, Stephen. What’ll it be?”

Scheer looked up at the black sky. Puffs of white were barely visible, and the moon was somewhere beyond, a glowing disc of stark brightness set against the mottled darkness. “I don’t know who my source is.”

Vail shook her head. “I’m disappointed. I thought he was gonna help us, Roxx.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know.”

“What’d you do, meet some guy on a dark street corner? I think you’ve been reading too many spy novels.”

“I got a text. A series of texts.”

“From who?” Vail asked.

Scheer closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“How’d you confirm the information?” I feel like a trial lawyer. I already know the answer to that question.

“I didn’t.”

Bingo. “So you get a few texts from an anonymous source, and you run with it? You write an article based on unconfirmed and unsubstantiated claims?”

“I don’t believe him,” Dixon said.

“We’re not convinced, Stephen. You’ve been a journalist a long time. Do you see why that’d seem like bullshit to us?”

“It’s not bullshit. You were…you were right. My job’s on the line. I needed something big. And I needed to get the jump on Clay. This first text came in, and I…I jumped on it. I’ve never done that before. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Vail looked at Dixon. “He’s sorry that he incited a serial killer to kill an innocent woman. And her husband.”

Scheer threw his arms up. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because,” Vail said, “that’s what happens with this type of killer. The worst thing you can say to him-let alone in a national newspaper-is that he’s of below average intelligence. That’d incite him, big time. A guy like this, he’ll act on it.”

“He may even come after you,” Dixon said.

Good touch, Roxx. But I think he’s freaking out enough. “Give me your phone.”

Scheer jutted his chin back. “What for?”

“I’m gonna check out your story. He sent you texts, I want to see them.”

Scheer bowed his head. “I deleted them.”

Vail slapped her hand against her temple. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“I didn’t know-I didn’t want to get my source in trouble. I didn’t want any record of it. Normally we don’t have to disclose our sources. You know that. Even in a court of law, we’re protected. But carrying it around on my phone all the time freaked me out.”

“What was the number?”

Scheer slowly shook his head.

“You don’t even know the number.”

He sighed deeply. “I don’t.” He turned to face Vail. “Please. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean for that woman to get killed. I didn’t realize-I thought the info was legit. I just wanted the story…”

“You hear from him again, we want that number-as soon as you get it. And don’t delete it. You hear me?”

Scheer nodded, but kept his gaze on the ground.

Vail gave Dixon a look of consternation, then headed back to their car.

“I’m sorry,” Scheer called after them.

Once in the car, they both slammed their doors.

“You believe him?” Vail asked.

“Yeah.”

“Me, too.” Vail watched as Scheer got back into his Honda.

“So what does this mean?”

“That’s a good question. Who’s leaking that info? I guess we can look into Scheer’s cell number. His carrier will have a record of the numbers of his incoming texts. Even if they don’t store the content, they’ll have the sending numbers.”

“If it’s not a throwaway, it’s worth a shot.”

“Text Burden, pass on what we discovered, and tell him we’ll meet him at the station, give him his car back.”

WITH THE TIME CREEPING PAST eight, they dropped off Burden’s Ford at Bryant Street, discussed Scheer’s anonymous tipster with Burden and Friedberg, and then the two inspectors called it a night. Vail caught a cab back to the Hyatt while Dixon met a friend of hers who lived in the city for a drink.

Vail walked into the Hyatt and took the escalator up to the seventeen-story lobby, where the atrium’s angular lines, pinpoint lights and expansive grandeur still grabbed her attention each time she returned to the hotel.

Resigned, Vail settled her back against the elevator wall, then rotated her head left and watched through the curved windows as the cylindrical car rose smoothly, the lobby diminishing in size as she ascended to the fourteenth floor. The doors slid apart and she made her way down the long open hall to her room. She dialed her son as she walked, and was surprised when he picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, honey. I was just checking in. How are things?”

“Fine.”

He’s going to grow out of this one-word teen-answer phase, right?

“You have everything ready for space camp?”

“I’m not some little kid, Mom. It’s not space camp, it’s Aviation & Space Challenge. It’s an engineering program.”

“I know, I registered you, I paid the bill. I just thought-I’m sorry, Aviation & Space Challenge.” And they say girls are temperamental? “Did you see where I packed your toothbrush? Oh, and don’t forget your raincoat. The intro packet said it rains a lot there-”

“I got it, Ma. I’ll be fine.”

Vail slid her card into the slot and the green light flickered. She pulled down on the handle and walked into the dark room. She ran her hand along the wall, fumbling for the light switch. A floor lamp by the window popped on.

“Is Aunt Faye there? I just want to go over a few things with her about getting you to the airpor-”

“She went to bed already.”

“Maybe she’s still-all right, whatever. Forget it. Do you know what time you’re leaving?”

“Early. We’ve gotta be on the road at seven.”

“Then you’d better get to bed.”

Silence.

“Jonathan, you there?”

“Here.”

“Did you call Robby, say good-bye?”

“He came over tonight, we had dinner.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you spent some time with him. All right-enough talk. Go to bed, get a good night’s sleep. I don’t want you getting sick your first day of camp.” Shit. “I mean Aviation Challenge.” Jesus Christ. This is painful. “Call me if there’s a problem. And have a great time. I wish I could be there to see you off.”

“I’ll call you when I can.”

“Don’t forget your phone charger.”

“Ma?”

Vail set her key card on the dresser. “I just want to be able to reach you if I need to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Have a great time. Love you.”

“Love you too.” And then he hung up.

Having her aunt living with them since her ex-husband’s death was a blessing in more ways than one. Being in a career where travel was a reality of the job made it difficult having a teenager, especially one in today’s times where there were so many avenues for a young mind to go astray. Faye’s continuous and steady presence in the house was an unforeseen benefit of all she had endured while handling the Dead Eyes case. She had no idea that Faye’s presence would have such a positive impact on her life.

She realized she was still standing there, staring out the large window at the nightscape and sparkling lights of the Pacific Ocean below her. Looking at it but not seeing it. She reached down to plug in her BlackBerry on the desk to her left-and froze. Lying beside the charger was something that should not have been there.

An oddly shaped brass key.