Knock Out

13

“LIKE I TOLD YOU, the boobs carried their ID.” They heard rustling in the background. “Here we go. Jeff Wicky and Jay Fisher, they were imports from out West—Oregon, to be specific—longtime hoods for hire. The Salem field office sent agents to their former addresses, but there wasn’t anything to find except new tenants who hated the thin walls.

“Wicky and Fisher got out of jail about the same time—six months ago—rented apartments in the same building in Salem for four months, then disappeared. They told the bartender at their favorite dive they were driving cross-country. To see all the beautiful scenery? The bartender didn’t think so, since they were badasses, but he wasn’t about to ask. We don’t know yet how they hooked up with Jennifer Smiley.”

“I’ll wager Sean’s downsized orange basketball it’s more than just hooking up,” Savich said. “A family tie, some sort of connection, got to be.”

“Or maybe a friend in common in prison,” Sherlock said.

“We’re looking. No word yet. Thing is, guys, we never even considered the possibility of Lissy Smiley’s escaping. Damn, makes us look like idiots. Now it’s a whole new ball game.”

Savich said, “We know Lissy Smiley is a killer, but what about Victor? Any arrests, fights—anything to indicate how he’d behave at crunch time?”

Miatland said, “Best guess from behavioral sciences-—he isn’t a psycho. He didn’t kill Coggins or Daugherty, though he could have. And don’t forget, he was always the driver, never a real player in the actual bank robberies. To verify, we double-checked all the banks’ security videos. Never a sign of him.”

Sherlock said, “Victor Nesser’s twenty-one, barely old enough to grow face hair. How could Daugherty possibly think he was an FBI agent?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but Daugherty says he looked at the creds and never questioned his age.”

Savich asked, “How old is agent Peter Coggins?”

There was a moment of agonized silence. “He’s thirty-one.”

“Ah,” Savich said.

“I know, it’s obvious Daugherty didn’t pay attention. He says the guy pulled his ID away real fast, that he wasn’t really thinking about anyone gutsy enough to walk right up and flash another agent’s ID.”

Sherlock said, “Excuse me, sir, but that’s bull.”

Maitland laughed. “Yeah, it sure enough is. One of my boys calls it caca de toro, and busts a gut laughing at his own law school wit. I bet the guys won’t let Daugherty forget this until next summer, if then.”

A moment of silence, then Savich asked, “Why exactly are you calling us, sir?”

“Because Lissy Smiley kept telling Daugherty she was going to kill you for murdering her mama. I want you to keep your eyes open.”

Sherlock said, “But Dillon didn’t kill her mother, it was Buzz Riley.”

“I know. Lissy Smiley didn’t mention him, but I called Mr. Riley, told him to take a vacation until we catch her and Victor. I helped him clear three weeks off. No one wanted another employee shot. I suggested Buzz pay a nice little visit to Aruba. I even got him on an evening flight.”

Savich grinned as Sherlock rolled her eyes. He said, “It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon, sir, and I appreciate the call. I mean, the warning is thoughtful, but now tell us what you really have in mind.”

Silence on Maitland’s end.

At Sherlock’s nod, Savich gave it up. “I know you’ve got a team already in place, sir, but with Lissy Smiley on the loose and threatening me, I’d like to be front and center on finding her and Victor Nesser.”

Savich would hand it to his boss, he put on a good show. Finally Maitland said, “Well, if you really insist, Savich. I’m gonna have to pull some strings. Last thing I want is any turf problems, any duplication of effort, or stumbling over each other. I’ll send links to everything we have to MAX.”

Savich appreciated that Maitland tried not to sound too pleased with himself about getting what he wanted.

Savich said, “I think Sherlock and I need to go down to Fort Pes-sel tomorrow, check it out, then maybe on to Winnett, North Carolina, find out what we can about Victor Nesser. I’d like to get a personal feel for where they lived and the people who know them.”

“If that’s what you want, Savich,” Maitland said, and Savich knew he was grinning like the cat in the canary cage. When Savich hung up the phone, he told Sherlock, “I’ll say one thing for Victor. Taking out an FBI agent, stealing his ID, taking himself to Memorial to free Lissy—that took guts and steadiness. He’s got to feel really attached to Lissy to take a chance like that. He moved to Winnett, North Carolina, when he was eighteen, evidently right after he graduated. The question is why? What happened?”

Sherlock said, “Lissy was only thirteen when he left.”

He nodded and said, “Did he leave because of Lissy, or maybe a falling-out with his aunt, Jennifer Smiley?”

Sherlock raised her face to his, touched her fingertips to his cheek. “We need to see if he’s got a passport, maybe dual passports, one Jordanian.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that first thing.”

She said, “I wonder why he didn’t want to return to Jordan with his mother and father. Ah, well, we’ll find out everything about him in due course. We don’t know what he’s been doing since he gradu-ated high school, how he’s earned a living. We’ll go first thing to Fort Pessel and Winnett, find out about these two.”

“I’m sure some of that legwork will be in the info Mr. Maitland sends us.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know it’s not the same thing.” She added as she looked at the kitchen clock, “I figure we’ve got another thirty minutes before Sean comes home from the Perrys’ on a sugar high. I want you to tell me everything about Lissy Smiley and how things went down. Paint me a picture, Dillon. I want to hear it out of your mouth again. I know you’ve thought about it, relived it. Now that Lissy is free, I need to know what you think. Talk to me.”

And he did. She didn’t add that the thought of a crazy teenager out to kill Dillon scared her to her toes.

“... Riley saved my bacon, shot Jennifer Smiley through the neck I will never forget thinking of a blood fountain.”

He’d been so close to death again, she thought, too close. A fountain of blood. She got herself together. “We’ve got to find out what sort of relationship Lissy Smiley had with Victor. It could be the key to what makes them tick.”

Savich agreed, only he really didn’t care at this particular moment in time. He grabbed Sherlock and kissed her. “I’ll get to work with MAX on this tonight. Ah, how much time do you think we have before Lucy brings Sean home?”

“At least fourteen minutes,” Sherlock said, and ran up the stairs.

The only thing missing from this perfect picture, Savich thought as he followed her, was that they didn’t have a ceiling fan in their bedroom. He hoped he’d have time to install one next weekend. He thought about Autumn. He prayed she’d call him again tonight. It had been too long. He’d gotten a couple of phone calls from several smalltown sheriffs, but as yet, nothing on Autumn. His Autumn. He was getting really worried about her.