Silenced

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lucy crowded into the small security office with Genie, two cops, the manager, and security chief. She stood near the back, barely able to see the laptop monitor on which the head of security had downloaded the tapes from the last twenty-four hours.

Genie gave a quick rundown on the timeline.

“Jocelyn Taylor checked in alone at eight A.M. Tuesday morning, but the reservation was made an hour earlier over the phone by her husband, Chris.”

Officer Taback added, “You said three girls were with her, correct?”

“Yes. After she checked in, she went back to the front, where we presume she got into her car and drove into the secured garage. Free parking if you’re a guest, just slide your room key into the kiosk. That was at eight ten in the morning.”

The security chief, Tom Wright, flipped the screen to a wide-angle garage shot. “The garage is hardwired into the system—it’s older than the hotel’s security system, more secure, but takes more people and space to maintain,” he said. “Mrs. Taylor parked near the elevator and three girls got out.”

Lucy recognized the victim, who was the tallest of the three, but not the other two girls. One was in her early twenties, but the other was definitely younger, with the awkward movements of a young teen who had recently grown. Thirteen? Fourteen?

Genie said, “We’ll take the best head shots of the girls and distribute them widely so we can ID them quickly. We’ll send them to your cell phones to show witnesses. We need to know who these girls are, so we’re doing a complete canvass of the hotel and nearby restaurants.”

Wright flipped to the hotel system. The feed was much clearer than in the garage, and in color instead of black-and-white.

“The girls went to the room with Mrs. Taylor, and until last night, none of them left.”

“Do you notice that each of the girls has a backpack,” Lucy said, “but Jocelyn Taylor has no luggage?”

“She left Tuesday afternoon and returned a few hours later with shopping bags. Then she left and didn’t return until Wednesday afternoon.”

“So she wasn’t staying here,” Genie said.

“Doesn’t appear that she was,” Wright said. “On Wednesday evening she left the room, met her husband in the lobby. They walked out—didn’t take their vehicles—and came back nearly two hours later with carryout from a nearby restaurant.”

Taback said, “CSU found a receipt in the room for two meals eaten at the restaurant, and a large carryout order charged separately. We didn’t find any food bags, only one half-eaten container.”

“At ten thirty P.M., approximately thirty minutes after the Taylors returned, the brunette and the blonde left,” Wright continued. “You can see they’re each carrying a backpack and the younger teen has the food. They went to the garage, and footage shows them leaving in Jocelyn’s car.”

“Do we know that the Taylors were alive at that point?” Lucy asked.

“Chris Taylor made two phone calls between ten thirty and eleven P.M., and we’re tracing them now,” Genie said. He also called down to the desk asking for a six A.M. wake-up call. The hotel rang three times, ten minutes apart, and there was no answer.”

“Did they find the bodies then?”

“No,” Wright said. “Housekeeping found the bodies just after eight this morning. Last night, Taylor left the room at eleven fifteen and went to the garage, removed a suitcase from his car, and shortly after that, the main hotel security went down until twelve-oh-three A.M.”

“Jammed,” Lucy said when she saw the fuzz on the screen. “It was jammed—very easy to do with wireless. The hotel is on wireless, correct?”

The security chief nodded. “The garage is hardwired, but the hotel security cameras were upgraded to a secure wireless network.”

“Not very secure,” Taback muttered.

Lucy glanced around and wished Noah had arrived. She’d called him right when she got the call from Genie. He was in the middle of a meeting, but said he’d be over as soon as he could.

“We called our IT department and they were working on the problem when it resolved itself,” Wright said. “We’ve had some glitches with the system, but it had never been down for this long before, hotel-wide.”

“We need copies of film from all security cameras in the immediate area,” Genie said. “Two-block radius.”

Taback nodded. “We’ll get it.”

Lucy said, “Downed network, master pass key, killer who showers after killing three people? I think we’re dealing with a professional. Premeditated, planned attack.”

“There’s more,” Wright said. He fast-forwarded the tape. “We get visual shortly after midnight. At one forty-five A.M., one of the two girls returns.”

Lucy watched as the brunette parked in the garage. “Is the other girl in the car?”

“Negative,” Wright said. “We have a camera at the entrance and unless she was lying down in the backseat, she wasn’t there.”

The brunette had a backpack and went in the elevator. “After hours, all floors are locked unless you have a room key,” Wright said. “She used the room key to access the sixth floor. Seven minutes later, she’s back in the garage.” While he spoke, he fast-forwarded through the film until they could see the brunette exiting. Though the film wasn’t sharp, it was obvious the young woman was in distress. She left the garage in Jocelyn Taylor’s car.

“She’s not a suspect,” Genie said, “but she’s definitely a person of interest. Why didn’t she report the crime? What happened to the teenager? Who are these girls? How are these murders connected to Nicole Bellows at the Red Light?”

“They’re connected?” Taback asked.

“I see a lot of homicides each week, but rarely does the killer leave a message. Two messages in two days?”

Three messages. But Lucy didn’t say anything. She had to run her theory by Noah first. She wasn’t going to overstep her place again.

But it all made sense. The hidden room. The prostitutes. Whore implied prostitute. Slut would have been more appropriate for a promiscuous young woman as Wendy appeared to be on the surface.

What if the three murders were connected because the girls all knew each other?

There was one easy way to find out. Go back to Nicole’s previous residence and show pictures of the other victims and find out from Cora Fox who had gotten Nicole out of the slums.

“Kincaid, ready for a road trip? Let’s talk to the people who knew the Taylors best, starting with their employers.”

“Detective.” One of the CSU investigators stepped into the cramped room.

Genie said to Lucy, “Meet me in the lobby.” To everyone else, she ordered, “Get to work, people. You know what to do.”

Lucy took the opportunity to call Noah.

“Armstrong,” he answered brusquely.

“It’s Lucy. I’m still at the Hotel Potomac. Genie and I are going to interview the victims’ employers.”

“Good. I don’t need a blow-by-blow, you’re in good hands with Detective Reid.”

“The male victim is chief of staff to Congressman Hartline.”

“Call me if anything comes of it, or e-mail a status report. You wanted to work this case, work it. You don’t need me to babysit you.”

“No, but—”

“Lucy, do you have a question?”

“No.” She bit her lip. She was trying to be diligent. She wasn’t an agent—as she’d been reminded countless times in the last three days—and she didn’t want to screw this up.

“I have to brief Assistant Director Stockton in ten minutes. Since Wendy James’s identity has been plastered all over the news, the media has been doing our case more damage than good with their speculation. Stockton is going to give a statement and hopefully stop some of the leaks and misinformation.”

“I know you’re busy. I’m sorry. I’ll e-mail a report tonight.”

“Lucy—” Noah hesitated. He must have put his hand over the phone because she only heard muffled voices, then he came back on. “Sorry. Lucy, you don’t need me to hold your hand, okay? I wouldn’t have let you work with Genie if I didn’t think you were more than capable of handling this investigation.”

You don’t need me to babysit you.

You don’t need me to hold your hand.

He must think she was the neediest agent-in-training the Bureau had ever hired.

Lucy decided to take the compliment at face value and not read anything into it, otherwise she would be paralyzed into inaction.

“Thank you.” She hung up.

Genie crossed the lobby, her skin shiny with perspiration. She grabbed a tourist pamphlet off a rack near the registration desk and began fanning herself. “I swear, menopause in summer is God’s way of punishing me for the sins of my youth.”

Lucy smiled. “I’m sure you were an angel.”

Genie laughed deeply. “Honey, I was a little devil. Where’d you think I learned my colorful language? Not just because I started as a beat cop.” They walked out.

“Are you going to Mrs. Taylor’s place of employment first?”

“No, we have a much bigger fish to talk to first. I have Chris Taylor’s phone records. He made two calls last night—one to his office where he left a message on voice mail that he wasn’t coming in today, and one four-minute conversation to Senator Jonathon Paxton.”

Lucy nearly stumbled off the curb.

Genie didn’t miss the recognition. “Know him?”

“Yes.”

“Conflict?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Was her face that expressive?

“Yes.”

She got into the passenger seat and waited until Genie pulled into traffic before she spoke. How could she explain her relationship with Jonathon Paxton in a way that didn’t make it sound bizarre?

You can’t.

She hadn’t seen the senator in nearly six months, and she didn’t want to see him today. But her curiosity would keep her on this case, because she needed to know why Taylor called Paxton.

“Taylor worked for Hartline, right?” Lucy confirmed.

“For the last six months. Before that, he was a legislative aide to Senator Paxton. I need information, Lucy, before we walk in there. I’ll admit, I don’t like dealing with these guys, and if there’s any chance that the senator is guilty of a crime, I gotta turn it over to the feds, and I won’t be heartbroken about it. But as far as I know, Taylor is a former employee.”

Lucy didn’t want Genie to know about her past, but she couldn’t avoid it now. If she found out later, the detective would think Lucy had lied or intentionally withheld information.

“I’ve known Senator Paxton for seven years,” Lucy said.

“You must have been a kid.”

“Eighteen. I met him when I moved to DC for college. Both his daughter and I were attacked by the same man. Monique wasn’t as lucky as I was.”

“You knew his daughter?”

“No. She was killed years ago, but her killer was never caught until he kidnapped me.” Lucy hesitated, considering telling Genie the whole story, but now wasn’t the time or place to explain that Jonathon Paxton considered her some sort of hero for killing the man who’d killed his daughter and raped Lucy.

“Senator Paxton took me under his wing, so to speak. He gave me a recommendation for the FBI Academy, and I interned for the Senate Judiciary Committee for a semester when I was in college. I haven’t seen him in six months.”

“It sounds like a conflict. Shit.”

“It’s not. He won’t lie to me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“He thinks of me as a daughter. But believe me, I don’t consider him a father figure.”

“Is he capable of murder? Do you think he killed the Taylors?”

Two different questions. Lucy answered the latter. “He didn’t kill the Taylors, or that poor girl. If Chris called him for anything, it was for help. Senator Paxton is very loyal to the people who work for him.”

“So our vic calls an old senator instead of the police for help?” Genie made a ticking sound with her tongue. “That sure sounds fishy to me.” She glanced at Lucy. “All right, I’m going to trust you on this. Let’s find out what they talked about during those four minutes.”