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Stacy knew what she was asking and didn’t like it.
With Diana's permission, Stacy had received approval to authorize a tactical team to be in position around Fairview Park. The risks of such an operation in broad daylight were immense. Not only could spectators and people engaged in daily activities cross the paths of law enforcement preparing to engage, but also, a desperate criminal with nothing to lose would often look to innocent bystanders as pawns to gain an advantage over police. They knew the law would do everything possible to protect an innocent from becoming a victim.
Stacy also knew that serial killers and narcissists would hang themselves if given enough rope. Stacy hoped Maria had provided Brian Dowdy with just enough.
The midmorning weather in Fairview Park resembled a portrait painting. The morning was one of the most beautiful mornings Stacy had witnessed during the entire month of April, and it was certainly the loveliest morning since she and Austin had discovered Brooke Crawford’s mutilated body earlier in the week.
Beneath her feet, the dew-drenched grass sat under a golden skyline that shaded the forested part of the park in darkness. A cool breeze followed behind the wooded area, and Stacy wished she had a sweater on. The sky was morphed from a deep purple at dawn to a light blue by day. The sun had changed from a small pink marble into something that was a molten yellow, the color of butter.
Stacy taped the wire to the side of her bra and buttoned up the shirt around it. Austin came over and helped her fasten the Kevlar vest around her waist and snap the buckles shut. Technology had made wearing a wire for recording purposes sleek and unnoticeable. Instead of wearing a bulky and cumbersome transmitter box under her clothes, the wire would carry the conversation back to a recording console inside a van where the information could be heard and transcribed. If Stacy got into a conversation with Brian, she wanted to make sure all the information was recorded and preserved.
Austin walked around Stacy, his face hard and features set. “The Tactical Unit will stay out of sight until we say go, and not before.”
Stacy nodded quickly and tapped her Glock, resting in its holster on the side of her belt. “I want him taken alive, Austin. He’s our only hope in finding Colton.”
Austin’s eyes stayed on Stacy’s face until he averted them to the wooded park behind them, rocking on the balls of his feet and clearing his throat.
“I know.” He sighed and cupped a hand on her shoulder. “I just want you to be careful.”
Stacy felt emotionally and physically heavier than she had in months. "I know the last time we came here...."
“Don’t think about that,” Austin said. “We were fine then, and we will be fine now.” His voice was bright, but Stacy could sense the frailty in the depths of the words.
“And Gavin will be listening on the other end. So just get him to say what we need and then get out of there.”
Stacy’s eyes slid toward the ground and the few inches of space between them as she bobbed her head. “All right. Is Josie ready?”
Josie Clark was a patrol officer stationed out of headquarters who fit the physical build of Maria Fernandez. She came to Stacy at Diana’s recommendation. Josie was interested in doing some undercover work for the department, and Diana would use this moment to see how serious Josie was about the position.
Austin looked over his shoulder. His blue shirt and striped tie strained to stay unwrinkled under the pressure of the vest tied around him. “Josie’s ready and in position. As soon as you approach Brian, we’ll get her out of here.”
Austin had Stacy recite some words to test the volume of the mic and earpiece. His earpiece was tucked inside the curved area of his ear, just near the ear canal. “Coming in loud and clear.”
He saw Stacy flex, a look of tenseness in her shoulders as she scrunched her face. “He’s likely here, Stacy. I checked with human resources at Exxon, and they verified that Brian Dowdy requested three weeks of personal leave.”
Stacy checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until Brian Dowdy was supposed to show up—if he did show up.