The Guilty

  “I haven’t heard about these killings,” said Robie.

  “We made the decision not to publicize it. We didn’t want the killer to know that we believe them to be connected. The person might go deep underground if that information got out.”

  “And you’re sure the murders here are part of the pattern?” said Reel.

  “We can’t be certain, you understand. But I’ve worked a lot of these cases and the similarities are pretty solid.”

  “But even so, my father did have a motive to kill Sherm Clancy,” said Robie.

  “But not Janet Chisum,” countered Wurtzburger.

  “In the other cases was there a longtime gap between the murder of the girl and the killing of the older man?” Reel wanted to know.

  “Not as long as in this case.”

  “But in the other cases the girl and the older guy were connected? They were having sex. For payment?”

  “Yes. The murders in New York took place at the same time. The bodies were found together. In the other cases, the two murders were separate, one by as much as three weeks.”

  “So, similar but different,” said Robie.

  “You think that’s important?” said Reel curiously.

  Wurtzburger said, “In my experience, when serial killers take pains to create a pattern, they must have a really strong reason to deviate from that pattern.”

  Robie said, “Okay, we just have to find out what that really strong reason is. And if we do that, then maybe we find our serial killer.”

  Chapter

  47

  ROBIE SAT ACROSS from Reel in his room at the Willows.

  It was a bit before dinner, and they could hear Priscilla clanging pans in the kitchen downstairs.

  They had not seen Victoria or Tyler.

  The chirp of cicadas reached them from outside. The air was warm and humid, the sun settling down into the west but not wicking away even a bit of the moisture with its descent.

  Reel watched Robie’s gaze flick around the room.

  “What?” she asked.

  He turned to find her staring at him.

  “I know that look, Robie. Something’s in your head.”

  “This was her bedroom.”

  “Laura’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have tried to talk to her before you drove off into the sunset, you know.”

  “What was the point? She’d obviously made up her mind.”

  “I’ll forgive your naïveté, since you were only eighteen.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I could explain but it’s over twenty years too late, so I’m not sure what the point would be.”

  Clearly frustrated by her response Robie changed the subject. “How do you want to do the Chisum thing tonight?”

  “Pretty basic. We get there early and nail whatever and whoever comes along.”

  “And if it’s a serial killer?”

  Reel shrugged. “I don’t discriminate. I’ll nail him, too.”

  “Do you really think this is a serial killer’s work?”

  “I don’t know. Wurtzburger presented a pretty compelling case. Although, as you pointed out, there are differences this time.”

  “Something is still bugging me.”

  “What?”

  “My father won’t say whether he was driving the Range Rover that night.”

  “Does that really matter? Do you think he killed Clancy?”

  “If he didn’t, why wouldn’t he say whether he was driving that night or not?”

  “He’s a complicated man. Like father like son. We still need to find Pete.”

  His phone buzzed. It was Taggert.

  The phone call in question had been untraceable. She wanted to know the significance of it.

  Robie said, “I don’t know if it is significant. But now it’s a dead end.”

  He clicked off and looked at Reel.

  “Maybe we should bring the cops in on this,” she said.

  “Taggert is good. But I don’t know about the rest of them. And I don’t want this to get screwed up. It might be our only shot.”

  “Okay,” said Reel.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Robie answered it, revealing Victoria standing there in jeans, a white short-sleeved blouse, and heels.

  “You two have time for a drink before dinner?” she asked. “Or do you have to keep on staying behind closed doors conspiring?”

  They followed her downstairs, where there was a pitcher of vodka martinis on the rear verandah.

  Victoria drank hers down. Robie sipped on his. Reel just held hers.

  “We saw my dad today,” said Robie.

  Victoria looked at Reel. “And what did you think of him?”

  “Wasn’t like I had time to psychoanalyze him.”

  “Your gut reaction.”

  “Good guy, tough, proud, unbending. Doesn’t suffer fools gladly or any other way.”

  Victoria looked impressed. “You have a perceptive gut.”

  “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “So, do you think you can find out what really happened to Sherman Clancy?”

  “I hope we can.”

  “Making progress?”

  “Little by little.”

  Victoria finished off another vodka martini.

  “Where’s Tyler?” asked Reel.

  “In his room. He was tired today. Think it’s the heat. Even if you’re used to it, it can wear you down. I guess that might be why life is slower down here. If people move too fast, they’ll just melt.”

  * * *

  After dinner Reel went back to her room and Robie joined Victoria on a walk of the rear grounds. They ended up next to the pool where they sat in low-slung lounge chairs.

  “Jessica seems like someone you can depend on,” said Victoria.

  “She is. And I have.”

  “You two are tight?”

  “As tight as anyone I know.”

  “Good, Will, we all need somebody like that.”

  “Did Dad talk to you about his idea?”

  “You mean the one where Tyler and I get the hell out of Dodge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not going to happen. I told him that. I’m here for the long haul, come what may.”

  “I told him that would be your answer.”

  She smiled. “Oh, so you think you can read me like a book, Will Robie?”

  “Not saying that. But you didn’t strike me as the type to abandon someone.”

  Her face fell for an instant before she regained her composure.

  “I’m not,” she said firmly. “I wish others I’ve known had thought the same way. Had the same backbone.”

  “So you’ve been abandoned?” asked Robie.

  “In a way, Will, we’ve all been abandoned, haven’t we? Some of us just don’t know it, is all.”

  Chapter

  48

  ROBIE AND REEL were on the move two hours before the set time.

  The sky was cloudy with low rumbles of thunder, the breeze hot and the air so thick with moisture that a storm unleashing a tropical downpour appeared imminent.

  They parked their car about a quarter mile away and hoofed it the rest of the way. When they reached the spot they split up and started their vigil.

  They were armed with both weapons and night optics, which Reel had brought with her. They were also commed together.

  Robie was hunkered down behind a stand of bushes. In front of him was the spot where he and Sara had first met. In his ear he heard Reel’s voice.

  “I’ve got the high ground,” she said. “As soon as I see anything, I’ll ping you.”

  “Roger that.”

  He settled farther down behind his cover and let his sector sweeps go into automatic. He saw everything in wispy green thanks to his optics. He didn’t know what they would be encountering tonight. They had struck quite a staggering blow to what might be forces from the Rebel Yell Casino. These me
n had planned on killing Sara Chisum after using her as bait to get to Robie. He did not believe the young woman would be stupid enough to try her luck with them again.

  But then again, you could never underestimate the stupidity of some people.

  He checked his watch. Two minutes to go.

  He let out a long breath. He wasn’t going to achieve complete cold zero now, but he also knew something else:

  I’m in my element. This is what I do.

  Robie heard the sound of the vehicle approaching in the distance. It would be pulling down the dirt road. It would go as far as it could go. And then the person would have to get out and walk the rest of the way, as Robie had when he’d first come here and stumbled upon Sara.

  But where was Sara?

  He assumed she would be arriving either by foot or by bike.

  He spoke into his mic.

  “You hear that?”

  “Roger.”

  “See anything?”

  “I don’t have a sight line to the road from here. You want me to get one?”

  “No, stand by. They’re supposed to meet in this clearing. The driver will have to get out of the car and walk to reach this spot.”

  “You think Sara is coming by car?”

  “Doubtful.”

  Though he still couldn’t see it, Robie heard the vehicle come to a stop.

  He knew he would next hear the engine being killed, the door opening, and feet smacking dirt.

  But he didn’t hear any of those things.

  The gunshot seared the silence of the night like a branding iron on skin.

  Robie immediately spoke into his headset.

  “Got a sight line of that shot?”

  “Muzzle flash from the west.”

  That was directly ahead of them. The direction from which the car had been coming.

  Robie swept out from behind his hiding place, keeping low and with his target silhouette shrunken to a sliver. He aimed his pistol in front of him.

  A few moments later Reel spoke into his ear.

  “I’m on your left flank. Eight on the dial.”

  Robie instantly started to move toward the sound of the shot. He wasn’t going to rush this and knew Reel wasn’t, either. It was all about urgency under control.

  But when he heard the car’s engine roar he started to sprint forward.

  He cleared the last of the trees and looked to his left.

  Reel was emerging just at that instant, but on his left, about thirty yards away.

  Her sniper rifle was in hand. She peered toward him, a set of NV goggles over her eyes.

  He gave the hand sign, which he knew she could see with the aid of the goggles. He didn’t wait for her to confirm. He shot forward, turned to his left, and came out onto a section of the dirt road.

  He saw two things.

  First was Sara Chisum lying on the left shoulder of the road. She was on her back, her body in the short grass.

  The second thing Robie saw was the set of taillights. They were nearly out of sight.

  He raised his gun and fired six times at the fleeing vehicle.

  His odds of hitting it at this distance, and in these conditions, were low. But he thought he might have struck it once. At least it sounded like metal hitting metal.

  Reel burst out onto the road a second later. She lifted her rifle. She would have a far better chance to hit the vehicle, but before she could fire, it turned and was completely out of sight.

  And as good a shot as Jessica Reel was, she could not force a bullet to defy the laws of gravity and bend its flight path at a forty-five-degree angle in order to hit a target.

  “Damn!” exclaimed Reel.

  Robie was already next to Sara Chisum. He pressed his finger against her carotid, searching for a pulse.

  He didn’t find one.

  He slipped a flashlight from his jacket and shone it over her.

  He saw the patch of blood on the left side of her head, right near the ear.

  He knelt closer, careful not to disturb the body, and examined the wound under the light.

  Reel raced over and squatted down next to him.

  “Dead?”

  He nodded. “GSW to the right temple. Would’ve killed her instantly. No exit. Round’s still in her.” He smacked the flashlight against the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe this! This wasn’t the meeting spot.”

  “Nothing we could do, Robie. Maybe it was changed somehow. Or the driver and Sara arrived at the same time. Point is, she made her choice and it cost her her life.”

  He looked at her. “Did you get a plate on the vehicle?”

  “No.”

  “I might have hit it with one of my shots.”

  “That would leave a telltale sign. You get the make?”

  Robie shook his head. “Just saw the red taillights. Too far away and too dark to make out the shape, but I think it might’ve been an SUV.”

  “What do we do now?”

  Robie used his hand to close Sara Chisum’s eyes. Then he pulled out