Into the Dark

61

Commerce, California

Joe Tanner stood at the windows of the Cold Case Unit of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

With his free hand, he kneaded the tension in his neck while clarifying the wording of the press release before it went out the door.

“No, Mindy,” he said. “We’re only saying that Eric Larch has been arrested for bail and protection-order violations and he’s cooperating in the investigation into the disappearance of his wife, Amber Pratt.”

He waited as the wording was read back to him.

“Estranged wife, fine,” he agreed. “That’s it. That’s all we’ll say. We know the people downtown want it out now, so let it go.”

The press release wording was crucial to buy time and ensure the real killer believed Eric Larch was their suspect.

Finished with the call, Tanner returned to his desk, hopeful that his instincts were right. All he needed were those manifests. He had hoped to have them by now. His line rang. It was Shirley, out front.

“Joe, you got a message from Bartley Green with the D.A.’s office. He says it’s important you call him back ASAP.”

Tanner took down the numbers. Green’s name was not familiar and he figured it was a status check. It happened with high-profile cases. He’d get back to him as soon as he could.

“That it?”

“And you got a call from Claire Bowen. She wanted an update and to inform you she’d left town. She’s in Big Bear Lake and left contact info.”

“Good, thanks.”

It was getting late in the day.

Tanner downed the last of his cold coffee. Before returning calls he checked his email just as the first of several attachments arrived in his box from Knox at the FBI bearing the StarBest flight crew and passenger manifests covering the flights for the period in question.

Tanner printed them off and looked over to Zurn, thinking he’d ask his partner to help study the manifests, but he’d just taken a call.

“Bartley Green?” Zurn leaned forward at his desk. “With the D.A.’s office? Put him through.”

Tanner held his tongue. Whoever Bartley Green was, he was persistent. Let Harvey deal with him, Tanner thought, collecting his pages.

He started with Leeza Meadows, who’d only flown once in the time period before her death. It was to Boston. The captain listed for her flight was Leon Elliott. Tanner then went to the list for Fay Millwood. She’d flown once to Denver in the period. The captain for her flight was listed as Leon Elliott. Tanner thought, fine, Elliott was a pilot for StarBest. But the name Robert Bowen hadn’t surfaced at all so far.

So much for instincts and hunches.

Shuffling through the pages, he went to the flight for Bonnie Bradford to New York. The captain was Leon Elliott.

This Leon Elliott was everywhere.

Esther Lopez had gone to Las Vegas and Atlantic City to work. Leon Elliott was captain for one of her flights. Tanner flipped to the pages for the most frequent flyer of all five women, Monique Wilson. She’d flown to Chicago, Houston and Philadelphia. According to a note in the file, Wilson’s sister had said that Monique flew often enough to get to know some of the airline crews. On two of her flights, Houston and Philadelphia, Leon Elliott was her captain.

What the hell?

“Hey, Joe.” Zurn had finished his call. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Still contending with the flight lists, Tanner turned to Zurn.

“We got a tip from a source with the D.A.’s office to check out Robert Bowen,” Zurn said. “You know, the husband of Amber Pratt’s psychologist, the guy we met in her office? The freeway hero pilot. Turns out he changed his name in Canada after his wife died in a wilderness accident a few years back. She fell while they were hiking in the mountains. The Mounties up there had nothing to charge him with, but got a bad read on the guy.”

“Robert Bowen changed his name?” Tanner asked.

“Yeah.”

“From what?”

Zurn looked at his notes.

“Used to be Leon Richard Elliott. We’re going to get some paper on him and a Mountie contact in British Columbia- What is it, Joe?”

“It’s him.”

“What?”

“It’s Robert Bowen.”

“How do we know that?” Zurn asked.

Tanner stapled the flight manifests together and tossed them to Zurn.

“Go through those flight lists where I highlighted. I don’t know how it happened-if he fell through the cracks or what, because I thought the TSA vetted pilots and that the airlines helped screen them with security checks and deep background. Look, Elliott is the common denominator. He was captain of the flight for each victim. He must’ve selected and stalked them.”

As Zurn raced through the pages, he started shaking his head.

“And now,” Zurn said, “he’s back, stalking his wife’s patients.”

Tanner grabbed his jacket.

“We need to get warrants now.”