approximately eight months between victims one and two. Since then the intervals have been getting shorter. The last two victims are separated by only seven weeks. Acceleration breeds mistakes. They’re going to make one. Let’s not forget that.’
This was for Deerholt, and he knew it. Lead investigator rallying the troops.
The troops didn’t believe it.
Neither did Valerie.
FOURTEEN
‘You feeling OK?’ Carla York said to Valerie. They were in Valerie’s Taurus, en route to Katrina’s parents’ place out in Union City. It was snowing, the pointless sort that wouldn’t stick, tiny flakes whisked by skirls of wind. Will Fraser was on a lead. What
he
called a lead. He’d been scouring vehicular refrigeration suppliers in the Bay Area (and beyond, though only Valerie knew this), convinced that if the killers were transporting corpses hundreds of miles, they’d want to keep them on ice. RV freezers aren’t big enough for a body, Will had said. Not unless you cut it up, which our guys aren’t doing. What if they broke down? What if they got pulled for a busted tail-light? If it were me I’d have a dummy shelf stocked with frozen steaks and waffles.
Valerie missed him. More acutely in the presence of Carla York, who knew nothing about her. Who’d spent the last hour of Valerie’s time giving her what felt like a recap exam. Why don’t you just go away and read the fucking reports? Valerie had several times been on the verge of saying. Savvy or paranoia had stopped her: there was a calm to Carla’s hazel eyes she didn’t trust. She imagined the FBI briefing: We’re a little concerned about the lead on this. She’s showing signs of stress. Word is there’s a no-joke drink problem. Go up there and take a look at her.
And now, on Deerholt’s instruction, she was riding with Valerie until further notice.
‘I’m fine,’ Valerie said. ‘Can’t shake this damn cold.’ Which she regretted, immediately. All the investigators had at one time or another been forced to attend the department’s stress awareness seminar. ‘Physical Warning Signs and Symptoms of Stress’ was the first component. ‘Frequent Colds’ was one of them. As were inexplicable aches and pains, nausea, dizziness, chest pain and rapid heartbeat. As was, probably, throwing up in the middle of brushing your teeth.
‘Not that it matters much any more,’ Valerie said, ‘but are our guys psychos?’
Take control. Make
her
answer some questions.
‘The alpha killer, maybe,’ Carla said. ‘But my money’s on not both of them. It’s more likely the beta’s in thrall to him in some way, though it’s obvious from the serology that he’s at the very least getting his jollies with the corpses. Like a scavenger. It’s unlikely the alpha would let him interfere while they’re actually alive.’
Valerie sneaked a sidelong glance at her. Carla was staring straight out the windshield. Her hair was pulled back so tight it looked painful. Small face (
squirrelish
, Valerie thought), clean features and a maddeningly neat little mouth. Attractive? Not to men who were looking for surface glamour. But there wasn’t a spare ounce on her, and her skin was flawless. The good thing about getting older as a man, Blasko had said to Valerie once, is that you get better at seeing beauty in women. Well, not beauty, maybe, but sexual wealth, sexual…
character
.
‘If the alpha’s a classic,’ Carla said, ‘then the control has to be all his. Which won’t stop him blaming the beta for everything, including the murders. It’s a good bet that’s the dynamic. But the alpha will probably kill him when he’s done.’
‘Done?’
‘If he ever gets done. Which he won’t, because we’re going to stop the motherfucker.’
The profanity was a jolt. Until now Carla might have been speaking to a class of grad students. Valerie’s cynic stepped in:
She’s just mirroring. She’s heard you swear, so she swears. It’s what no-hopers are coached
This was for Deerholt, and he knew it. Lead investigator rallying the troops.
The troops didn’t believe it.
Neither did Valerie.
FOURTEEN
‘You feeling OK?’ Carla York said to Valerie. They were in Valerie’s Taurus, en route to Katrina’s parents’ place out in Union City. It was snowing, the pointless sort that wouldn’t stick, tiny flakes whisked by skirls of wind. Will Fraser was on a lead. What
he
called a lead. He’d been scouring vehicular refrigeration suppliers in the Bay Area (and beyond, though only Valerie knew this), convinced that if the killers were transporting corpses hundreds of miles, they’d want to keep them on ice. RV freezers aren’t big enough for a body, Will had said. Not unless you cut it up, which our guys aren’t doing. What if they broke down? What if they got pulled for a busted tail-light? If it were me I’d have a dummy shelf stocked with frozen steaks and waffles.
Valerie missed him. More acutely in the presence of Carla York, who knew nothing about her. Who’d spent the last hour of Valerie’s time giving her what felt like a recap exam. Why don’t you just go away and read the fucking reports? Valerie had several times been on the verge of saying. Savvy or paranoia had stopped her: there was a calm to Carla’s hazel eyes she didn’t trust. She imagined the FBI briefing: We’re a little concerned about the lead on this. She’s showing signs of stress. Word is there’s a no-joke drink problem. Go up there and take a look at her.
And now, on Deerholt’s instruction, she was riding with Valerie until further notice.
‘I’m fine,’ Valerie said. ‘Can’t shake this damn cold.’ Which she regretted, immediately. All the investigators had at one time or another been forced to attend the department’s stress awareness seminar. ‘Physical Warning Signs and Symptoms of Stress’ was the first component. ‘Frequent Colds’ was one of them. As were inexplicable aches and pains, nausea, dizziness, chest pain and rapid heartbeat. As was, probably, throwing up in the middle of brushing your teeth.
‘Not that it matters much any more,’ Valerie said, ‘but are our guys psychos?’
Take control. Make
her
answer some questions.
‘The alpha killer, maybe,’ Carla said. ‘But my money’s on not both of them. It’s more likely the beta’s in thrall to him in some way, though it’s obvious from the serology that he’s at the very least getting his jollies with the corpses. Like a scavenger. It’s unlikely the alpha would let him interfere while they’re actually alive.’
Valerie sneaked a sidelong glance at her. Carla was staring straight out the windshield. Her hair was pulled back so tight it looked painful. Small face (
squirrelish
, Valerie thought), clean features and a maddeningly neat little mouth. Attractive? Not to men who were looking for surface glamour. But there wasn’t a spare ounce on her, and her skin was flawless. The good thing about getting older as a man, Blasko had said to Valerie once, is that you get better at seeing beauty in women. Well, not beauty, maybe, but sexual wealth, sexual…
character
.
‘If the alpha’s a classic,’ Carla said, ‘then the control has to be all his. Which won’t stop him blaming the beta for everything, including the murders. It’s a good bet that’s the dynamic. But the alpha will probably kill him when he’s done.’
‘Done?’
‘If he ever gets done. Which he won’t, because we’re going to stop the motherfucker.’
The profanity was a jolt. Until now Carla might have been speaking to a class of grad students. Valerie’s cynic stepped in:
She’s just mirroring. She’s heard you swear, so she swears. It’s what no-hopers are coached
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