The Competition

16

Tuesday evening, October 8

The sun had dropped low on the horizon, taking the day’s warmth with it. I shivered and pulled my thin wool coat closer. It really was time to break out the winter wardrobe. Bailey and I trotted back to her car in silence. We talked as little as possible when we were in public because you never knew who was listening. Especially in a case like this.

As soon as we got into the car, Bailey handed me her cell phone. “Call the unis at the rec center. It’s rush hour. I want to get on the road.”

The phone rang six times before someone picked up. “Sharven here. What can I do for you, Detective Keller?” The din of frantic parents swelled over the young officer’s voice. And mine. I had to yell my question four times before he could make out the name.

“Logan Jarvis?” he asked. “Is that J as in John, V as in Victor?”

“I think so.”

“Hang on.”

I started to bite my cuticles-my go-to stress coping strategy when there was no room to pace. Bailey slapped my hand. “Knock it off, Knight. What are you, twelve?”

I turned my back to her and attacked my right hand. I’d just gone to work on my thumb when the officer came back on the line.

“Detective Keller? Looks like your guy was reported missing-​assuming the spelling’s correct.”

My heart began to pound. I told him to have the parents meet us at their house and got the address, then punched it into the navigation system. When I hung up, neither of us said anything about Logan looking good. No more jinxes.

We hit the 101 freeway in the middle of rush hour. We’d roll a few inches, stop, roll a few more, stop. I couldn’t stand it. I had to do something. “What else can we check?”

“You could get the unis to check the juvy records, see if he’s got anything.”

“Didn’t they already check the kids who had records? I thought they were all accounted for.”

“Doesn’t hurt to double-check.”

It kind of did. I needed progress, forward motion. I stared at the line of cars ahead of us. “Wait…if the killers left the scene, at least one of them had to have had a car, right?”

“I’d guess.”

I called DMV, got Logan Jarvis’s license and registration, then called the unis and had them check it against the cars in the school parking lot.

“And?” Bailey asked.

I kept my eyes forward. “Not there.”

Having one idea pay off gave me another.

I put in a call to my buddy in the coroner’s office, investigator Scott Ferrier. “Hey, Scott, how you doin’?”

“What do you want?” His voice was wary. Not that I blamed him. Generally speaking, a phone call from me meant two things: (1) I wanted him to get me something I wasn’t supposed to have and (2) I’d bribe him with lunch at Engine Co. No. 28, his favorite restaurant, to get it. So Scott was always conflicted about taking my calls.

“Just one bit of information. Has Dr. Shoe finished the autopsy on those two kids in the library?”

“Yeah, took him a while. They were a mess. He just finished a couple of hours ago.”

“Can you check out his report-”

“It’s not typed yet.”

“You only need his notes to see what I’m looking for-”

“Rachel, I’m not supposed to-”

“Come on, Scott. This one’s easy.” I heard him sigh. “And I’ll still buy you lunch at Engine Company Number Twenty-eight.”

“No, that’s okay. What do you need?”

“Did either of the two boys in the library have a tattoo or any kind of marking on his right wrist?” We already knew one of them was close to six feet tall.

“That is easy.” He sounded relieved. “No, neither of them has any kind of marking on the right wrist. At least, nothing that’s in the notes. Anything else?” His voice had that wary note again. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten off that lightly.

“Just one thing. Do we have results on the gunshot residue?”

“Yeah. No GSR on either of them. Is that it?”

“Then the report confirms they’re not the shooters?”

“Well, the official report isn’t done yet-”

“But the answer’s yes.”

Scott sighed again. “Yes. They are not the shooters. But I can’t get the report for you. Not this time, Rachel. The case is too hot, I might really get fired-”

“Scott, what are you thinking? I would never ask you to jeopardize your job.”

“Would and have, Knight.”

True and true. “Well, I’m not doing it now. Just one more thing.” I waited a beat to build suspense. “How about lunch in a couple of weeks?”

I could practically hear him exhale. “You got it.”

I ended the call and told Bailey what Scott had said. We continued to inch along, and I leaned forward in my seat, straining against the seat belt. I sat on my hands to keep from biting my cuticles. I looked at my watch, then the car clock, then back at my watch. I must have done it fifteen times before we finally got off the freeway and headed into Logan’s neighborhood.