“Would have better protected her by not confronting Donner in a coffee house,” Abbott grunted. “What else?”
Micki produced a small plastic bag. “Cat hair, found in Rachel’s living room. It matches cat hair we took from Martha’s carpet. It doesn’t give us any more on the killer’s identity, but it’s a connection to give the DA when we finally catch him, just like this one.” She put a photo on the table. “Christy, leaving the diner. Look at her shoes.”
They did, everyone frowning. “And?” Noah asked.
“They’re Manolos, four hundred bucks a pair,” Micki said.
“Spendy,” Olivia said. “I still don’t get it. Why are the shoes important?”
“Because they weren’t in her closet, they weren’t anywhere in her house,” Micki said.
“His souvenirs,” Carleton said. “It’s very common for serial killers to take souvenirs, and shoes are among the most common things to keep. Again, nice connection once you find him, but not terribly helpful to me in forming a profile.”
Micki looked unhappy. “I’m done now.”
“It’s good work, Mick,” Abbott said, trying to smooth over Carleton’s tone.
Carleton winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be dismissive. Knowing he collects things is just more of the same. It doesn’t help me, help you.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a patient at nine. Call me if there’s any change in Jack’s condition.”
“Will do,” Abbott said, then turned back to the team. “Today, we focus on finding Donner and cracking Dell Farmer. Noah, you and I will go to Donner’s office at Marshall and execute the warrant. Olivia and Kane, you’ve got Farmer.”
“What about the coffee shop?” Noah asked. “The TV reporter said that Bolyard saw Donner there. They’ll have tapes. Eve says Donner eats at the Deli. Let’s start there.”
Abbott shook his head. “I went by the Deli as soon as they opened this morning. Security video is only of the register and the barista didn’t remember Martha, Bolyard, or Donner. Let’s meet back here at two. I have a press conference at three, so get me something.” He met their eyes, grim. “A killer would be nice. Web, you’re with me.”
Noah stopped at his desk to get his hat and coat and found Eve staring at her laptop screen, her expression intent. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to keep busy. Natalie won big at the casino last night because Dasich and one other player got thrown out for cheating and-” She pursed her lips. “I’m babbling. Dr. Pierce stopped by on his way out. He said he had dinner with Dean Jacoby last night. They know it was me. He said Jacoby wants to see me this morning, but I told him you’d made me promise to stay here.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Eve, you did the right thing. Whatever happens.”
“I know,” she said, then smiled, ruefully. “Luckily I’m a damn good bartender so I’ll still have one career. You take your desk. I know you’ve got work to do.”
“It’s okay. You stay here. I’m on my way out.”
“Noah?” She stood as he buttoned his coat. “They’re releasing David from the hospital this morning and I have to take him home. I can’t stay here forever.”
Yes, you can. The thought rose above the worry and he tucked it away. There would be time for that later. He looked at Abbott, who was waiting impatiently. “Bruce?”
Abbott looked irritated. “I’ll have someone drive her over later. Now let’s go.”
“Captain, wait.” Faye hurried up to them, a paper in one hand. “Donner’s LUDs. His last call went to 411 at 10:40, but the one before that went to his mother, around 6:00 p.m. Here’s her address. You want me to have the locals meet you there?”
Abbott grabbed the papers greedily. “Yeah, call ’em, but tell them to stay back until we get there. Thanks, Faye. Noah, let’s roll.”
Thursday, February 25, 8:30 a.m.
Olivia and Kane were preparing for another go at Dell Farmer when Olivia got a call from narcotics that left her smiling, albeit grimly.
“What?” Kane asked when she hung up.
She told him about the call from Tom Hunter in the middle of the night and the dealer Damon who might have license plate info. “Two SUVs could be a coincidence, but we can’t afford to assume. That was my old pal in narc. They have Damon in custody.”
“How much did he have on him?”
“Recreational. But that violates his parole, so we’re in business. I want to know if he saw the license plate on that Navigator.”
“He’s gonna want a deal,” Kane said glumly, in his way that reminded her of Eeyore.
“I know. Let’s go to the DA, see if he’ll give us wiggle room.”
Kane paused at the bullpen door. “What about her?”
Olivia turned back to look at Eve, who sat at Noah’s desk, hunched over her computer. “She’s digging in that game, hoping to find something we can use.”
“Wish I’d never heard of that damn game,” Kane said as they walked to the elevator.
Olivia punched the button so hard her finger buckled. “Don’t we all?”
Thursday, February 25, 8:45 a.m.
Liza screamed. She was running, couldn’t get away. Lindsay chased her, her face gray, gaunt. Dead. She’s dead, she’s dead. But the scream never made it out of Liza’s mouth, coming out as a muffled grunt. Her body wasn’t moving. She was tied, she realized. Her hands and feet were tied. She breathed through her nose.
Her mouth. It was taped shut. It came back in a rush. The man, his hand over her mouth, the sting of a needle on her neck. What did he give me? Where am I?
She opened her eyes a slit, relieved when her lids obeyed. It was dark, and they were moving. A car. She remembered his car. I’m in the trunk.
Do not lose it now, she commanded herself. She focused on the breaths she took. And as her pulse steadied, she knew she was not alone. She could smell… blood.
Oh my God. Lindsay. She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to look. Maybe he lied, to scare you, to make you obey. Maybe she’s alive, maybe she needs you. Open your eyes and look. Dammit, girl, look. Her heart pounding in her ears, she made her eyes open, blinking to see in the darkness. Then saw what she’d smelled.
She froze, the scream trapped in her throat. Eyes. Open eyes. Staring at me.
Lindsay was dead. I will be, too.
Thursday, February 25, 9:15 a.m.
Noah checked out the car in Adele Donner’s driveway, his gun drawn. “Covered in snow. Been here all night.” He and Abbott went up the front walk while two uniformed officers went to the back. They had the exits covered.
Abbott rapped on the door, hard. “Police,” he called. “Come out, Donner.”
The door opened, revealing two women, one about ninety and the other perhaps fifty. “We’re both Mrs. Donner,” the older woman said, her chin up. “What do you want?”
Donner’s mother and his wife. The wife’s eyes were red and swollen and she cried quietly. The old woman’s eyes, though, were clear and cold as ice.
Abbott looked over their heads. “Step aside, ladies. Please.”
“Do you have a warrant?” the ninety-year-old demanded.
“Yes,” Abbott started, but Noah held up his hand.
“Mrs. Donner, you know why we’re here. Please don’t make this any harder.”
Donner’s mother’s chin wobbled, her only sign of weakness. “He’s not here.”
Abbott’s jaw hardened. “What do you mean, he’s not here? His car is here. His wife is here. Where is your son, Mrs. Donner?”
Donner’s wife wiped her eyes. “He’s out back. At the pond.”
Noah started to run. A single set of footprints marred the snow and by the look of them, they weren’t fresh. From the snow that had filled them, they were hours old. No footprints came back to the house. Donner had left during the night and not returned.
Noah strode through the snow, motioning to the uniforms to spread out. But when he got to the pond he abruptly stopped. His breath hung in the air as he stared at the bench at the pond’s frozen edge. He lowered his pistol. No need for it now.