The Competition

46

My cell phone rang on our way back to the station. I looked at the number, then at Bailey, who was navigating the downtown traffic. “You won’t believe this. It’s Dorian.”

“She’s calling us?” Bailey’s jaw dropped. “I think the earth just started turning backward.”

As I hit talk to take the call, I whispered to Bailey, “I should tell her not to bother me.” Bailey clamped her lips together to keep from laughing.

“Knight here.”

“Tell who not to bother you?” Dorian’s familiar growl was a reassuring touch point in this Bizarro World case.

“Uh, the press, sorry. I was talking to Bailey.”

Dorian proceeded without further preamble. “I finished at the Cutter house. The ground under the bedroom window was a muddy mess. Too damp to see much of anything. But I might have something on the concrete walkway leading down the side yard and out to the street.”

“Recent shoe prints?”

“That’s what I’m hoping they are. Tell you when I know more. But I can say for sure that there’s only one set of prints. Consistent with the kid taking a powder. I know we’ve got to rule it out, but I’m not seeing any evidence of foul play.”

Not that there’d been much doubt about it, but the possibility of abduction had to be addressed. “Think you can get some idea of the shoe size?”

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it? I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Dor-” Dead air. She was gone. I told Bailey what she said.

“I’d guess Dorian already asked the sergeant to get some of Evan’s shoes from his parents, but I’ll call the sergeant. Make sure he remembers.”

“That reminds me, what about Logan’s folks? I know the unis have been getting what they can out of them, but maybe we should try talking to them ourselves-”

“No, kiddo, we don’t need to do anything with the Jarvises. They wouldn’t spit on us if we were on fire.” True. Telling them their son was a mass murderer hadn’t endeared us to them. “And it hasn’t just been unis. I’ve had Harrellson talk to them too. He found out Logan has cousins in Utah, but we already checked them out. No way Logan ran to them. They’d have tied him to the back of a truck and dragged him to the police station.”

“I’m glad you got Harrellson.”

“One of the few good things about this case: I get what I want.”

Harrellson was a great detective. Light on his feet for a man his size-six feet by three feet if he was an inch, which explained his penchant for suspenders-he was as smart, funny, and quick as they come, and he never missed a lick.

Bailey pulled into the parking lot at the PAB. When we got back to her desk, she called the sergeant in charge at Evan’s house. It was Saturday, but you couldn’t tell. All hands were on deck, and they probably would be until we had the shooters in custody.

I sat down at a vacant desk nearby and called Eric on his cell. “You heard about Evan?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Terrible, just terrible. They got anything yet?”

I told him what Dorian had so far. “And Bailey’s checking on the door-knock. We need to get out ahead of this somehow, but we just keep hitting dead ends. It’s making me crazy.”

“Rachel, remember, it’s always like this until it isn’t. We run into walls until we find the door. All you can do is keep digging. In the meantime, don’t make yourself any crazier than you have to. I have faith in you. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

I appreciated the support. I did. And I’d have found it reassuring but for one tiny fact: Eric didn’t know about the threatening letter yet. A pang of guilt made my throat tighten. I wanted to tell him, but I’d promised Graden I wouldn’t. I said nothing. When I ended the call, Bailey was off the phone.

“Just got the report from the unis who covered Evan’s ’hood,” she said. “Nothing from the door-knock. One of the unis contacted the paper deliverer, who said he thought he saw a white Corolla around the corner from Evan’s house around five a.m., but the uni didn’t think it was solid. Everyone in that neighborhood knows Logan drove a white Corolla.”

“The paperboy didn’t get a license plate?”

Bailey shook her head. “Another reason I’m not buying it. If Logan’s car had been around, we’d have more than this one sighting. But Nick’s got something for us. He’s on his way over.”

A few minutes later, he appeared holding a printout. He threw it down on Bailey’s desk. “There’s the reason you haven’t seen anything exciting in Logan’s emails.”

It was a few paragraphs of very fine print. “Enlighten me so I don’t have to strain my eyes,” she said.

“Sorry. I always set it to eight-point font to save paper.”

“You’re a tree hugger?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Like to hug lots of things.” Nick gave me a sly grin. I folded my arms and tried not to smile. Nick continued. “This email must have been written right when they first met. It was sent about the same time. Logan tells Evan not to put anything in an email he wouldn’t want the world to see because there’s no way to really hide it. Says the government is intercepting everything and keeping it in this huge storage place under a mountain in Utah. He’s got a link to an article that claims the government can intercept everyone’s email and that they plan to start real soon. Logan says they’ve probably already been doing it for a while.”

I picked up the printout. “Is that for real?”

“It might be. I know the government wants to be able to grab whatever whenever they want. Now does that mean the government’s interested in two high school kids’ bullshit? Probably not. But ain’t it typical of teenagers to think so?”

It was. And it did explain why nothing incriminating showed up in Logan’s email. After Nick left, we worked on our next move. With no solid leads, it wasn’t easy.

“What do we have on Logan’s past?” I asked.

“So far we’ve only gone back to the beginning of high school, but it shouldn’t be hard to go back further,” Bailey said. “And remember, Shane was in the military. So we’ve got military records and the records from the VA. They’re pulling it all together. We’ll have a full report soon.”

“But nothing that gave us any leads on where he might be?” Bailey shook her head. “Well, since we’ve got time and no better ideas, may as well go back further on Logan. Hit middle school and elementary school.” I thought about what Jenny had told me during an earlier phone conversation. “The underlying point of these shootings is to feel powerful, superior.”

“And to get famous.”

“Yeah, but according to the shrinks, power and control is the key. It was all over that letter.”

“True,” Bailey said. “So if school was a place where he got tweaked about feeling inferior or weak-”

“Then it becomes a proving ground. But it’s also a pragmatic thing. Logan knows the layout, and it’s a relatively easy place to score a high body count-‘fish in a barrel’ style. Plus, it’s where other shooters staged their scenes. So if they’re looking to beat out the other killers, that’s the optimal target.”

“Then Logan’s next target might be one of his past schools-”

“An elementary school. Or even a middle school.” Both were the sites of previous mass murders.

Bailey’s cell rang. She looked at the number and rolled her eyes. “The tip line, God help us.” She answered the call. But this time, she sat up and stared straight ahead, her gaze intense. After taking a few notes, she ended the call and swiveled her chair toward me. “Finally, a real one.” She consulted her notes. “Someone who fits the description of Shane Dolan was sighted up in Red Bluff-”

“Where the hell is that?”

“North of Sacramento. Up near Cottonwood.”

“Where was he?”

“Filling up at a gas station. They didn’t get the plate. But they did give a description of the car.” She picked up her notepad. “A blue Volkswagen Jetta with body damage to the right rear fender.”

We grinned and bumped fists. “We have ignition.”

I couldn’t believe how good it felt to finally get a break.

Bailey’s cell buzzed. “Text from Nick. They figured out where the letter was mailed.” She picked up her desk phone and punched in the number.

I sat up. If we could pin down where Logan-or the second shooter-had mailed the letter, we’d have another area to search. It was a very brief conversation. Bailey didn’t look happy. “It was sent from Boulder, Colorado.”

“Boulder?” I’d been sure he was still here, in L.A.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean they’re in Boulder. They might just have someone there who was willing to mail the letter.”

And finding that person would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. A haystack the size of…Boulder, Colorado. I sighed. After the tip about Shane, I’d thought we might finally be on a roll. Two steps forward…