The Competition

23

It was close to midnight by the time we got to the Biltmore. Way too late for dinner, even at the bar. We’d have to fill up on appetizers and snacks. On the way there, I got a text from Toni saying she was on her way home from a date with J.D. and was wondering if we were still alive. When I told her we were-just barely-and that we were headed for the bar, she said she’d meet us there; we probably needed a little sane company.

“What’s up with that crack about ‘sane’ company?”

“Can’t imagine,” Bailey said. “She must not know I’m here.”

Toni had the bar to herself, and she’d already ordered our drinks-Ketel One martinis for herself, Bailey, and me, and a Dalwhinnie scotch on the rocks for Graden-and a double order of the standard assorted nuts and crunchy bar snacks.

We hugged and I slid into the booth across from her. “Hey, how’d you beat us here?”

“J.D. and I had dinner in the neighborhood. I had a feeling you guys would wind up here tonight.” Toni looked at us, sympathy in her eyes. “How’re y’all doing?”

She kept her voice low, though there was no one else around. I shook my head. “It can’t even be described, Tone. To say it’s the worst I’ve ever seen doesn’t begin to get there.”

Toni nodded. “I can’t-well, frankly I don’t even want to-imagine.”

Graden appeared. He gave Toni a hug and sat next to me.

I leaned in. “Has Vanderputz grabbed his face time with the press yet?”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Of course-”

“But he doesn’t know anything,” Graden said. He looked at me. “Unless you’ve been filling him in.”

“Yeah, ’cause I run to him every chance I get.”

“As if he needs to know something to justify a presser,” Toni said. “What’s wrong with you two? He didn’t say anything. Just said how his heart ached for the victims and their families and that he’d see to it the case was brought to a ‘swift and just conclusion.’”

That sounded about right. I dipped an olive into my drink. “Did the chief do a press conference?”

Graden nodded. “Just said the killers were at large and named Logan Jarvis as a ‘person of interest.’” Graden raised an eyebrow. “But it’s very reassuring to hear that Vanderhorn’s promising a ‘swift and just conclusion.’ With him hot on the trail it’ll be wrapped up in no time.”

Toni and I sighed. The deputy DAs in Special Trials work closely with the detectives, but the detectives lead the investigation-not us. Vanderputz, however, never let accuracy get in the way of a good sound bite. “He couldn’t be a bigger jackass if he put on the back end of a donkey costume,” I said.

Graden chuckled. “Anyway, as predicted, the tip line blew up. We’ve got sightings of Logan Jarvis from Indio to Cape Town.”

I put down my drink. “Cape Town? As in South Africa?”

“I blame the interweb,” Bailey said. “It lets the crazies go global. So nothing for real yet?”

Graden shook his head. “Not yet.”

“That’s the problem in a city this big,” Toni said. “It’s easy to hide. And if he has the brains to cut or dye his hair or wear a wig, he’ll slide right by.”

“The only thing that’ll make it a little harder for him is his height,” I said. “But even that…”

Bailey nodded. “And we’ve checked cell phone records for Otis and Logan, Logan’s license plate, his gas card, everything we can think of. Nothing. No sightings on Logan’s car and there’s been no activity-not on their cell phones, not on the gas card. They’re off the grid.”

“What about their bank accounts?” Graden said.

“We’ve got someone checking on that,” I said. “And tomorrow we’ll be talking to everyone who had classes with them in the past year.”

“After that we’ll hit Logan’s brother,” Bailey said.

“That might lead you somewhere,” Toni said. “I assume you’ve checked his alibi?”

“Immediately,” Graden said. “He was nowhere near Fairmont. Not that he fit the profile anyway.”

“And I’m not that optimistic about what he can tell us,” I said. “According to Mom, they had gotten closer in the past couple of years, but they weren’t that tight.”

Graden took a sip of his drink. “Take it from me, he’ll know something.”

Graden and his younger brother, Devon, were different as night and day, and they hadn’t been that close as kids. But when they reached their twenties, they discovered each other. Now they were not only the best of friends but also partners in the video game they’d developed that had become the hottest thing since Grand Theft Auto.

Before Graden knew what he wanted to be when he grew up, he loved to design video games. It was a hobby, nothing serious. When he got hired by LAPD, he decided it was time to quit. Just before he graduated from the Police Academy, he created one last game, Code Three. Devon wrote the program for it. Graden had walked away from the project-it was time to put away such childish things-but Devon refused to let it go. Graden gave Devon his blessing to try to sell it, never dreaming it would amount to anything. It took a few years, but Devon found a buyer, and the game took off like a rocket. By the time Graden made detective, both he and Devon were millionaires many times over.

“Give me a ‘for instance,’” I said. “What do you think the brother would know? Assuming he wasn’t actually in on it, which I seriously doubt.”

“I do too, though I never like to rule anything out,” Graden said. “It’s possible he got unhinged during his tour of duty.” I raised an eyebrow. “But even if the brother’s not in on it, Logan might’ve been less guarded around him. Maybe he let something slip. You’ve got his info, right?”

“Yeah,” Bailey said. “He’s got a place up in Oxnard. Works at a garage there.”

The waiter came by to tell us it was last call, and we all decided we were ready to pack it in.

Toni looked from me to Bailey. “Listen, I know things are going to get crazy, so both of you, remember to eat and sleep, okay?” She looked at Graden. “You too. You’re no better than they are.”

Drew, who’d just finished for the night, came out to join us, then seconded the vote. “Yeah, you’re all looking pretty raggedy.”

Graden smiled, but Bailey gave Drew a sour look. “You really think that’s what I need to hear right now?” she asked.

“Yes.” He kissed Bailey and helped her with her coat.

Bailey rolled her eyes. “I’ll deal with you later-”

“Looking forward to it,” Drew said. For the first time that day, I saw an actual smile-well, half-smile-on Bailey’s face.

She buttoned her coat. “Okay, Knight. Get some sleep. I’m picking you up at seven thirty.”

“Why not eight?” Morning and I are not the best of friends.

“Because we’re meeting with kids at Taft High School at eight fifteen.”

“Taft. That’s where they’re housing the Fairmont students?” Bailey nodded. It made sense. Taft was closest to Fairmont High. But that meant we’d have at least a forty-minute drive. “Next time, I set up the interviews.”

Toni laughed. “You’ve got my sympathy.” She, Bailey, and Drew left.

Graden walked me up to my room “just to say good night.” When we got inside, I dropped my coat and purse on the wing chair and turned on Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. We sat down on the couch and snuggled in. Neither of us felt the need to talk. As I listened to the steady beat of his heart and inhaled his scent, my chest unwound and I think I even dozed for a few minutes. Then he leaned down, tilted up my chin, and kissed me. “I should probably hit the road,” he said. But then he kissed me again. A warm, lingering kiss that left me a little out of breath.

I suggested the road could wait until tomorrow.

He thought I might be right.