Play dead

SIXTY-TWO

They stood in the punishing heat. Around them buzzed yet another CSU team. Around them stretched another circle of yellow tape.

"This isn't going to stop until he's done all seven," Jessica said. "There are three more girls out there who are going to die."

Byrne had no response. Nothing he could say.

"The Seven Wonders. What the fuck is this all about, Kevin? What's next?"

"Tony's on it now," Byrne said. "If the answer is out there he'll find it. You know that."

Until now, all four of these girls had lived in two dimensions. Photographs on paper, a graphic file on a computer screen, myriad details on a police activity log or an FBI sheet. But now they had seen them alive. All four girls had been breathing on those videos. Elise Beausoleil, Caitlin O'Riordan, Monica Renzi, Katja Dovic. All four of them had entered that chamber of horrors and never left. And if that was not enough, this madman had to apply a special brand of indignity by putting them on display, for the whole city to see.

Jessica had never wanted someone dead so badly in her life. And, God forgive her, she wanted to be the one who pulled the switch.

"Jessica?"

She turned. It was JoAnn Johnson, commander of the Auto Squad. The Auto Squad had citywide jurisdiction to locate vehicle chop shops, investigate car-theft rings, and coordinate investigations with the insurance industry. Jessica had worked in the unit, now a part of Major Crimes, for almost three years.

"Hey, JoAnn." Jessica wiped her eyes. She could just imagine what she looked like. A crazed raccoon, maybe. JoAnn didn't react in the least.

"Got a minute?"

Jessica and JoAnn stepped away. JoAnn handed her the preliminary report on the Acura.

They had towed the car to the police garage at McAllister and Whitaker, just a few blocks from the Twenty-Fourth District station. The order was to hold for prints and processing, so it was held inside. They had identified the owner.

Jessica stepped back to where Byrne stood, report in hand. "We have a hit on the car's VIN," she said.

The VIN, or vehicle identification number, was the seventeen- character number used to uniquely identify American vehicles, post- 1980.

"What do we have?" Byrne asked.

Jessica looked at the ground, the buildings, the sky. Everywhere but at her partner.

"What is it, Jess?"

Jessica finally looked him in the eye. She didn't want to, but she had no choice.

"The car belonged to Eve Galvez."