DYLAN
The Paces are broken up about Sy Rollins’s death. “Do you think that girl had anything to do with it?” Elise asks me in a voice that seems to have a permanent quiver in it.
I shake my head. “No, I really don’t. I think I would have found her if she were back in town.”
“But she’s good at this,” Elise says. “I try to make some sense of it—how a girl like her can do the things she’s done— and I just keep coming up with mental illness. How else could anyone do what she did to Brent?”
The haunted look in her pale eyes isn’t likely to disappear anytime soon. Nothing I do is going to banish it, but at least she might be less confused when the truth finally comes out.
Jim seems lost inside himself. “If she came out of her hole and killed Rollins, or did that to your apartment, she’s more deadly than anybody even thought.”
I can’t let that stand. “It doesn’t fit any part of her profile. I think it was someone else.”
“How can you say that?” Elise asks. “She was brutal with Brent. Blowing up a building full of people to go after the men hunting her isn’t that much of a stretch.”
“I doubt seriously if it’s physically possible for her to do either one of these things. I saw Rollins last night, and he was really drunk. Could hardly walk. I don’t see any way she could have gotten him out of his house in that condition and taken him somewhere to kill him.”
“Rollins drank a lot,” Jim says. “I always smelled alcohol on his breath. Sometimes he seemed to stagger. I really didn’t have a lot of faith in him to find Cox. It was almost like Gordon Keegan was covering for him, trying to keep him working. That’s part of why I hired you. Rollins didn’t give me a sense of confidence. I like Keegan and felt like he was on top of things. Maybe Rollins just got himself into trouble with somebody. A drug dealer or a bookie or something.”
That’s a theory I hadn’t expected Jim to come up with, but I don’t reply.
“We’re glad you’re still on the case, Dylan,” Elise says. “We need you now more than ever. It’s worth every penny.”
When they write me another check, I feel a surge of remorse. But I quickly shove the guilt back. I’m going to make sure Brent’s killer gets justice. That’s ultimately what they’ve hired me to do. And if they feel deceived after it’s all over, somehow I’ll pay back everything they’ve paid me.
I’m back in my car when my phone chimes, and I glance at the readout. It’s Chief Gates. I swipe it on. “How ya doing, Chief?”
“Good, Dylan,” he says. “I have some news for you. It’s about Casey Cox.”
I step on my brakes and pull over into a random parking lot. My gut hitches into a knot. “What is it?”
“She was just captured by Memphis PD.”
I draw in a sharp breath. “She what? Are they sure it’s her?”
“Positive. Someone saw her at a hotel and called it in. She was disguised, but since her arrest she’s admitted who she is.”
I’m dumbfounded, and I can’t even speak.
“You there?”
I put my car in park. “Yeah. I’m just . . . stunned.” I rub the sweat beads on my upper lip and realize my hand is shaking. I’m glad he can’t see me.
“There’s something you should know. She’s telling the Memphis detectives that Gordon Keegan and Sy Rollins are the ones who killed Brent Pace, that they also killed her father, that Keegan killed Rollins and burned your building . . . Basically, that Keegan’s Jeffrey Dahmer reincarnated.”
Good. She’s told them. I want to ask if they believe her, if they’re taking it seriously, if an investigation is under way. Instead, I say, “Really? She said that?”
“Yeah. She’s claiming she’s got some things in place where this will be released to the press. I just wanted you to know since she may try to convince you of it too.”
“Okay. Are you going to investigate her claims?”
He chuckles. “Claims that one of my best detectives is a serial killer? Come on, Dylan.”
My mind is racing. “I’m just saying, Chief—the press will want to know if you checked it out. In today’s media climate, they’re not going to treat it as a false claim. It’s sensational. It’ll dominate the news cycles for days. Maybe you could question her some more and see what evidence she’s offering.”
“They said she gave them a thumb drive. They’re e-mailing me the files.”
“Treat it seriously,” I warn him. “If the press gets the files too, and you have to assume that they will, they’ll expect you to have looked into them. Just see what the evidence is so you can talk about it.”
“Yeah, I will. Honestly, I don’t know if she’s crazy or if she sincerely believes this.”
“What matters is what the press will believe, right?” I know that’s not true. The truth really does matter. But I need to keep him at arm’s length, since I don’t know whether he’s in on this whole thing with Keegan. “Let me know when you get that stuff,” I say. “I’d like to know what’s in the files.”
“Will do,” he says.
“Have you told Keegan she’s been apprehended?”
“Not yet. I don’t look forward to telling him what she’s saying. Plus his best friend is dead. His head is bound to be in that case instead of this one.”
“Any way I can get clearance to go get her?”
“That’s not a good idea,” Gates says.
“But like you said, Keegan is distracted. I’m the most available person. You know I can do it.”
“You’re not on the force.”
“Then put me on the payroll for a few days.”
There’s silence as he seems to think it over. Then he sighs. “Maybe that’s the best idea. All right. I’ll draw up the paperwork. Come by the office.”
I hang up, so relieved I can hardly breathe. But it frustrates me that Gates isn’t even considering Casey’s claims. Then again, I could be just jumping to conclusions. Of course he wouldn’t immediately trust the claims of a woman he thinks is a killer. And the fact that he took my advice and is sending me instead of Keegan looks good for his innocence.
How will Keegan react? He won’t want me to transport her. He’ll want to do it himself. He’s not knee-deep in grief, as he wants people to believe. And he can’t let Casey keep talking. She might make sense.
I’d better get to Memphis as fast as I can. Driving’s too slow. I call the airport’s charter service and learn there’s a corporate plane departing for Nashville in an hour. They tell me I can hitch a ride and they’ll drop me off in Memphis. They charge me twice what I’ve had to pay before, but to protect Casey’s life I’ll pay whatever it takes. I book it and pray that we depart on time, before Keegan has the chance to beat me there.
Before going to the airport, I stop by the police department to sign payroll paperwork and get quickly sworn in. It’s not how I wanted to come to work here, and the chief lets me know not to count on this. It’s just temporary.
All I need is one day to get Casey.