Inmate 1577

35

Vail whipped out her Glock and threw it up in front of her, her forearms taut and her pupils dilated, taking in everything and anything. She swung the weapon left and right, looking at the room, her eyes scanning systematically from right to left. Clear.

Vail moved into the angled bathroom, grabbed the pocket door to the water closet and shoved it hard to the right, more forcefully than she should’ve because it bounced with a deep thud and started to close. She toed it back and, with her Glock in her right hand, grabbed the tall shower curtain and swung it to the side. Nothing-no one-in the bathtub.

She swung back around, then pulled her BlackBerry with her left hand and dialed Dixon. “Get back to the room. Someone’s been here. The offender.”

It was noisy in the background. Vail remembered she was in a bar.

“How do you know?” Dixon shouted into the phone.

“He left something. A key.”

“Did you clear the place?”

Vail’s eyes kept scouring the room. The bed. She hadn’t checked under the bed. “Working on it.”

“Be right there. Hang tight.”

Vail shoved the BlackBerry into her holster, then knelt down to inspect the king mattress. It was a platform bed, so no way could anyone be underneath it.

She moved to the closet and pulled open the door. Just her clothing.

Fuck. How did he find out where I was staying? She walked back toward the desk. Not impossible. But this asshole’s smart.

She wiped a layer of sweat from her face with a sleeve, and after one more glance around the room, double-locked the door and then settled into the web-backed office chair. She reholstered her weapon. Looked at the key. It was the same wide, unusual shape as most of the others they had found. He wants me to know, without a doubt, that he’s been in my room. Power. Definitely fucking with my head. Anything missing?

As she turned away to check her suitcase, she noticed something on the Hyatt pad beside the phone. A typed note, in large caps.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID IN NY

A new wave of perspiration pimpled her forehead, scalp, and chest. New York. Not just New York. What I did in New York. How could he know about New York? There are only three people who know about that. Me, my confidential informant, and my former partner.

Vail hadn’t seen either one in years. Six or seven. Last she knew, Mike Hartman was still a special agent somewhere on the east coast. She thought it was New Jersey, but she wasn’t sure.

How is he connected to this? How’s he connected to the offender?

The informant…Eugenia Zachry… She had thought of her from time to time over the years, but had never initiated contact. Once she left the woman’s life, it was better to maintain distance.

Vail sat there staring at the note. Think, Karen. What should I do about this? Bring it to the office. Show it to Burden-no. I can’t. Tell Roxx? How can I do that? She’s a friend…but…shit.

How does this asshole know about it?

Minutes passed as she tried to clear her head and think this through. Just then there was a rapid series of knocks on the door.

Roxxann.

Vail’s heart jumped a beat as she looked at the note.

“Karen. Open up!”