All the Pretty Girls

Twenty-One

Baldwin had just arrived at the airport, checked his bag at the curb and was heading inside to grab a cup of coffee before his plane returned to Nashville, when his cell phone rang. He looked at the number and smiled. Taylor had tried to call him late last night, or early this morning, seeing as the time code on the message was 3:30 a.m. She hadn’t left a message. He must have slept through the ring. He hated missing her calls, and wondered why she had tried him in the middle of the night. Sometimes it got to the point that they spoke to each other’s voice mail for a whole day, trying to match up.

“Hi, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

Taylor’s voice was a little shaky, but she sounded all right to him. “I’m fine. When are you coming home?”

“I’m at the airport now, my flight leaves in half an hour.”

“Good. I, uh, we, uh-”

Baldwin heard a beep in his ear, glanced at the display and interrupted her. “Hold on a sec, Grimes is calling my other line.” He hit the flash button. “Hey, Grimes.”

“Baldwin, you haven’t gotten on the plane yet, have you?”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yeah. And the media is broadcasting the story already.”

“Wait a second, would you? I need to get off the other line.” He clicked over. “Taylor, I have to go. Let me call you right back.” He hung up before he heard an answer and switched back to Grimes.

“Where is she?”

“They found her body off Highway 81 right outside of Roanoke, Virginia. The guy who found her called his girlfriend and told her to call the local Fox affiliate before he called the police. Wanted his fifteen minutes of fame. And before you ask, no, he doesn’t look good for the crime. But we need to get up there ASAP. I’ve got a plane chartered here at the private airstrip. Go grab a cab and have them run you to this terminal, okay?”

The stress in Grimes’s voice was palpable. Baldwin started walking toward the exit with purpose, firing questions as he made his way through the throng of people.

“What else do you know?”

“Other than the national news has already picked it up before we’re on the scene? Well, she was strangled, I know that for sure. But the highway patrol officer I talked to down there wasn’t the friendliest cuss in the world. This isn’t going to be like Noble. So that’s the extent of it.”

Baldwin reached the curb and entered a waiting taxi, instructing the driver and talking to Grimes at the same time. “Okay, I’m in a cab and should be over there in five minutes. We’ll talk on the plane.”

He clicked off, then punched in the speed-dial number for Taylor. She picked up before the first ring had ended.

“Thanks for hanging up on me.” She sounded pissed and Baldwin grimaced. He hadn’t meant to be rude, and told her that.

“I know you didn’t. What did Grimes want?”

“Marni Fischer’s body has been found in Roanoke. I’m on my way over to the jet so I can catch a ride up there. I don’t think I’ll be home tonight after all, honey. I’m sorry.” He was genuinely distressed, he hated spending too much time away from her.

“Uhhh, that’s okay. Just give me a call when you get some free time. I’m sorry, babe, I know you didn’t want it to end up like this.”

“No, but I was expecting it. Time frame was right. You were about to ask me something earlier.”

“Oh, that’s okay, it can wait. I have to go anyway, I’m meeting Sam. Just call me later, okay?”

“I will, sweetheart. Love you,” he said almost absently. Once he’d determined Taylor was fine and needed nothing from him, his head had gone immediately back to the case. He hung up and shoved the phone back into its holster.

Roanoke, Virginia. The killer started in Alabama, went to Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, then Georgia and now had ended up in Virginia. He flipped open his phone and made a quick call back to Quantico. His boss, Garrett Woods, answered on the first ring.

“Baldwin, are you on your way to Virginia?”

“Yes, I’m pulling up to the private terminal in Atlanta right now, Grimes has a plane ready to go. Do me a favor, would you? Put the locations of the dump sites and kidnapping sites into the geographical database, see what it spits out. I want to see if this guy is flying by the seat of his pants or if he might be following some sort of geographical pattern. Have them try to find central locations he could be working out of, and put in the assumption that he’s not from any of the areas that he’s been working in.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“I’ll call you from Virginia. Until I get on the ground I want to hold off making any more judgments.”

“Okay then, but get back to me later and let me know what you think.”

“Will do, Garrett. Thanks.” He clicked off just as the taxi pulled up in front of the private air terminal. He jumped into the cab, juggling his cell phone and briefcase. His cell rang again, an unfamiliar number with a Georgia area code. He got settled in the cab and answered on the third ring.

“John Baldwin.”

“Dr. Baldwin, this is Sheriff Pascoe. I’ve gotten the report back from the lab on the note found in Marni Fischer’s car. There weren’t any discernible prints, just a couple of smudges. Could be from the victim, but I can’t guarantee that. There just wasn’t enough to go on.”

“Well, it was a long shot. He’s not making a lot of mistakes, there’s no reason for him to start now. Particular and precise, that’s our boy. Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate you working so quickly on that.”

“You’ll keep me up-to-date on what happens, right?”

“Absolutely. You have my number, feel free to call anytime. I have to run, I’m at the airport now. You take care.”

He shut the phone, overpaid the cabbie and made his way through the glass double doors. Grimes was standing in the middle of the large room and looked relieved when he saw Baldwin.

“We’re wheels up as soon as you get on the plane. You ready to go?”

“Let’s do it,” Baldwin said.