“Someone found the body of Jenny Benedict quickly, though,” Olivia said. “Your report said possibly within two hours?”
“We tracked down every employee who works in that industrial park. The owner of Swanson and Clark Electronics left just after six o’clock Friday evening, three weeks ago. He swears he walked right past where her body was found and she wasn’t there. The last employee to leave,” Zack checked his notes, “Ann Wells. Works at an industrial paint supply store at the end of the row. She didn’t see or hear anything unusual; her husband picked her up right at seven o’clock.”
“And your witness arrived about 9:30?” Olivia prompted.
Zack nodded. “Sunset was officially 6:57, but it probably wasn’t full dark until after 7:30. I’m figuring he waited until dark to dump the body as an added precaution.”
“You’re looking at a two-hour window?”
“I’m thinking the killer didn’t expect someone to discover the body until at least Saturday morning, and possibly not until Monday. None of the businesses open over the weekend.”
“I saw something about a tattoo.” Olivia’s heart quickened. This was what she really wanted to hear, but she didn’t want to seem overeager at this point. “No details?”
“One of the girls who saw Jenny walk away with the killer saw a tattoo. It was a vague impression, and she had nothing else for us. My partner is looking into similar crimes. We’ve tracked down two so far-four dead girls in Austin, Texas, and four in Nashville, Tennessee. We’re waiting on Nashville ’s reports.” He stared at her and leaned back in his chair. “You work either of those cases?”
Clearly, it was her turn to share.
Olivia opened her briefcase and took out the thick folder of information she’d compiled. “Unfortunately, I believe the man we’re looking for has killed thirty girls, including Michelle Davidson.”
“Thirty? And no one caught on that we have a nationwide serial killer?” Zack looked as irate as she felt.
“He’s cautious. Methodical. Patient. Years of inactivity between murders. In three cases- California, Kansas, and Kentucky -someone else was arrested and tried for the crimes. There’s no clear-cut pattern, and because the murders happen within weeks of each other before he stops, the cases grow cold quickly.” She slid over a copy of her file.
“How did you connect these cases to mine?”
“I told you someone was tried in California for a crime I believe your Seattle killer is responsible for. The M.O. is similar. The man convicted was just released from prison because of a DNA test. He was convicted on circumstantial evidence, but it convinced the judge and jury. But he didn’t rape Mel-the victim.”
“He could have been involved.”
“Yes. I’ve thought of that, but the prosecutor said the evidence after all this time is too thin to guarantee a conviction. And with all the publicity over wrongful convictions across the country-well, I think they simply didn’t want to try a difficult case.” She’d talked to Hamilton Craig about it when Hall was released two weeks ago. He was willing to retry Hall, but he didn’t think they’d win. There was no evidence suggesting there were two people involved. That didn’t mean there weren’t, but it would be harder to prove. And thirty-four years later? Virtually impossible.
“What do you think? Think my killer has a partner in crime?”
He was asking her an opinion that another cop, or an FBI agent, could offer. She didn’t know. “I don’t have any evidence to suggest either way-”
“What do you think? What’s your gut instinct say? Or aren’t you FBI types allowed to listen to your instincts?”
Instincts? She didn’t know how to listen to her instincts. She needed the facts in front of her. Numbers. Statistics. Probabilities. She could compare microscopic threads and tell with certainty whether they matched or not. But her feelings about whether Missy’s killer had a partner? This was unfamiliar and potentially dangerous territory, and an area she wasn’t comfortable exploring.
“Well,” she said, trying to buy time.
“You have an opinion. Spill it. I’m not going to hold you to it if you’re wrong.”
She swallowed, tucked her hair behind her ear. “Okay, I think the killer works alone. His crime is too personal, too intimate to share with another person. But-the California murder appears to be his first. And maybe he was still working out the bugs in his killing style. The primary evidence that convicted Hall was his truck-evidence in the truck proved that the victim had been in it.” She paused when she realized she’d said Hall’s name out loud. She hadn’t meant to, and quickly continued her line of reasoning, hoping Zack didn’t seize upon her slip. “Perhaps he drove the killer? Or maybe lent the killer his truck? But I can’t see anyone keeping quiet and going to prison to protect someone.”
“I agree.”
She was surprised. “You do?”
“The crimes are too personal. I don’t see him having a partner. But maybe early on he had help.” Zack shrugged. “We won’t know until we find him.”
“Do you have a DNA sample? Anything like that?” Olivia asked.
“We have a sample off Michelle Davidson, but it’s apparently small.” He shook his head. “I’m not well-versed in DNA testing, I’ve left it to Cohn. He’s good. But it’ll still take a few weeks to get anything. Cohn’s trying to push the state crime lab into rushing the test, but they have to put court-ordered DNA testing first.” He ran a hand over the dark stubble on his face, then rubbed his neck.
“I-” How could she get that sample without Zack thinking she was taking over the case? She had to proceed carefully. “You know, I might be able to rush the sample through the FBI lab.”
He gave her a blank stare, only the tic in his neck telling her he was suspicious of her motives. “And?” he prompted.
“We have state-of-the-art equipment there, and I sort of know the assistant director of CODIS. He’ll rush it for me.”
“Oh?”
She felt like she was on the hot seat. “He’s my ex-husband.”
“Your ex-husband works in the lab?” He grinned. “Hell, I wouldn’t be able to get my ex-wife to do me any favors.”
His humor relaxed Olivia a bit. “Well, he’ll do it for me. We parted friends.”
“It’s not easy keeping a marriage going in our line of work,” Zack commented, almost to himself.
Guilt again tickled Olivia. It wasn’t her line of work, but she knew enough agents and cops to know relationships were difficult for them. Ironically, work was the one thing that had brought her and Greg together, and kept them friends.
“All right,” he said, standing abruptly. “If we can get answers faster by using your ex, I’m all for it. Let’s go down to the lab and you and Cohn can talk about all that technical stuff. You probably picked up a lot of knowledge just being married to one of those lab guys.”
He doesn’t know the half of it, Olivia thought.
CHAPTER 6
Brian stomped down the three flights of stairs to the alley where his beat-up truck was parked. He was stuck until his attorney could get him some money from the damn government. You’d think they could have handed him a check on his way out the door-he was innocent, he’d told them he was innocent, and no one had believed him because that stupid fucking cop lied about the evidence. Planted evidence. Isn’t that what happened to O.J.? Cops planted evidence.
Of course Brian didn’t believe for one minute that O.J. didn’t do his wife, but hey, the cops fucked it up just like they screwed up everything and so they probably planted evidence on O.J. to make themselves look good, just like they’d planted evidence in his truck.
He jerked open the tinny door of the mini-pickup, wishing he had his big Dodge, but it had been seized as evidence. Shit, that wasn’t fair. It was probably a classic now. Worth some money.