by Debra Webb
“We’ll both be able to analyze what I learned better after some sleep.”
She started to argue but decided letting it go would make what she had to do in the morning a little easier. “Fine.”
Come daylight he would tell her what he’d learned and then he had to go.
6:30 a.m.
Bobbie pulled on her jacket and checked her reflection in the mirror. She’d fastened her hair into a ponytail. A dab of concealer had done basically nothing for the dark circles under her eyes. Her appearance didn’t matter. No one really noticed how she looked anymore. She was poor, broken Bobbie. She would never get over losing her family. There were some things in this world that weren’t meant to be survived.
But she had survived... James would want her to go on. Jamie...
Bobbie shook her head, exiling the thoughts as she shoved her Glock into its holster. She clipped her badge and phone to her belt. A strong cup of coffee, a quick chat with Shade, and she would head to the office.
Leaving the bathroom, she considered going back to her room and making the bed. She didn’t know why the idea crossed her mind. She hadn’t made a bed in 250 days. Why start now? Funny that she even thought about it.
Maybe it was the man who’d slept on her couch for the third time. He somehow interrupted her ability to stay disconnected from her emotions—from the world. All the more reason he couldn’t stay.
The cup she used for coffee sat on the counter. She shoved a pod into her single-serve coffeemaker and pressed the necessary button. The machine chugged and sputtered, and the scent of coffee filled the air. There had been a time when that smell had made her smile. It meant the start of a new day. She’d loved her life, her work...her home.
“Morning.”
She looked up as Shade appeared at the passageway between the living room and kitchen. “Morning.”
“I could use your help.”
This from the man who had warned her to stay out of his way? “How so?” Didn’t really matter what had changed his attitude. She could hear him out before she told him to be on his way. He’d said he would fill her in on what he’d learned yesterday. Maybe his abrupt statement had something to do with what he’d learned.
“Perry was in Mobile for a while before coming here. He probably completed a number of scouting expeditions before he came to Montgomery to stay about two weeks ago—according to my source. Once he arrived he needed supplies. Urge the task force to start canvassing convenience markets again as well as hardware stores. We know he prefers to stay away from the big chain stores. They typically have security cameras that actually work.” Shade opened a cabinet and retrieved a mug. “Whether he stocked up before he took Adams or after, someone has seen him since last Thursday.”
While he brewed a cup of coffee, Bobbie weighed the scenario. If this was the intelligence he’d spent twenty or so hours collecting, then he needed to reevaluate his sources. “The feds are running a media blitz.” She sipped her coffee. “Call-ins about sightings are off the charts, but none of them have panned out so far. What you’re suggesting could be a waste of valuable time.”
“If they’re still looking for the Altima, that may be why they’re not getting the responses they need.”
The cup she held suddenly felt too heavy. “You believe he has some other means of transportation.”
The smile he so rarely showed made an appearance. “He’s driving his mother’s gray Toyota Prius.”
“Why didn’t you mention this already?” Why would he hold on to that kind of information three—no four—hours? Her temper flared and she sat her cup on the counter. “Did you know this all along or just since yesterday?”
He gave her a look that answered the question. “I learned this information late last night.”
“I thought you went to Perry’s family home months ago.” Uneasiness stirred. Had he made a trip to Nebraska in the past twenty-four hours?
“I did. Both vehicles registered to his parents, the Prius and the Suburban, were in the garage. The feds found the same when they searched the home a month after I did. According to my source, his father gave him the Prius as a token of his appreciation for Perry’s continued silence.”
Bobbie withdrew her phone and sent a text to Owens who would pass it on to Agent Hadden. The sooner someone followed up on this lead, the better. She glanced up at Shade as she hit Send. “His father doesn’t want the world to know he isn’t the godly man they think he is.”
Shade leaned against the counter, the warm mug cradled in his hands. “You got it.”
She shook her head. “That’s just great. The father is as guilty as the son.”
“There’s more.” Shade waited until she met his gaze before he continued. “The little brother who died when Perry was ten, the infant, was his first kill. He suffocated him.”
“Holy shit.” Bobbie’s hands shook. She tucked them under her arms. “Was he afraid his mother would love the new baby more than him?”
“He didn’t want to share her attention.”
“Now we know why he strangles his victims in the end.” Bobbie touched her throat. “In a roundabout way he’s repeating that first murder over and over, watching the bodies stop struggling.” Whatever else was in his DNA, his parents had helped create the heinous killer Perry had become.
“It gives him a feeling of complete control,” Shade added.
“How did you find this new information?” Even if he went to Nebraska, Perry’s father would never have willingly shared these details. “Who’s your source?”
His dark eyes settled on hers. “I don’t reveal my sources. Let your friends at the FBI know they need to make a follow-up visit to the Perry home. Maybe his father will be a bit more cooperative if his freedom is in jeopardy.”
She reached for her cell. “His father may have a way of contacting him.” At some point she would have to tell Owens where all this information was coming from. Just not today. On second thought, rather than try to put all this in a message she decided to call Newt and give him the update. Despite having gotten the information from Shade, she walked away from him as she filled her partner in. Newt would see that Owens and Holt were briefed. Since both Bobbie and her partner were supposed to be working with Hadden on the grid search, Newt urged her to follow this new lead with Shade. He would cover for her.
Newt was right. She could do more good focused on this new intelligence. She might as well take advantage of Shade’s help today. He could be on his way tonight. She thanked her partner and turned to Shade. “We’ll start canvassing hardware stores. Newt will see that the task force is briefed. He’ll cover for me.”
“I hoped you would say that.” Nick pulled a map of the city from his back pocket. “Let’s start with the outlying neighborhoods. Wherever he’s hiding, he needs privacy and some amount of distance from any other occupied buildings or houses. I’ve searched a good number of areas already—we’ll start with the areas I haven’t checked.”
She surveyed the areas he’d marked. “He usually goes more remote than what I see here.”
“I think he’s close this time. Close enough to see you regularly. He likes watching you and knowing you’re not far away.”
She grabbed her shoulder bag. “I’m driving.”
Shade didn’t argue.
As usual, he exited before her, did a quick check and then waited for her to follow. Part of her wanted to trust him completely and share her fears. He had gotten her through some tough situations. Like on the interstate when the Rice child was released and at her house after that call from the Taggart child. Maybe when this was over, if she ran into him again.
Wait, when had she started thinking in terms of what she would do when this was over?
Didn’t mean anything. She checked her mirrors. The surveillance detail fell in behind her. When the
chief reviewed her detail’s report he would know she hadn’t spent the day with Newt and Hadden. Nothing she could do about that. She’d just have to deal with the fallout when the time came. For now, this was the right move.
After about five minutes of nothing to focus on other than the smell of Shade’s skin, she announced, “I should know more about you.”
The silence continued for another mile or so.
“You know who I am and why I’m here. What else do you need to know?”
Bobbie considered what she wanted to ask first. She doubted his cooperation on the subject would last long. “Where’s your family?”
“I don’t have any family.” He leaned against the headrest.
“Where are you from?”
“All over.”
She rolled her eyes. “Where were you born?”
“Atlanta.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“You didn’t do a background check on me?”
She took the ramp to 85. “I think you know what your background check reveals. Besides, I haven’t had time.” The truth was, since her initial thoughts on the matter she hadn’t taken the time. As long as he was a mystery she could...what? Hope? Believe? What was wrong with her head? She hadn’t hoped or believed in anything in the past 250 days but her desire to get Perry. Something is wrong with you, Bobbie.
“Florida State, but I dropped out.”
“Why?” She couldn’t shake the idea that he was well educated. If he’d dropped out he had done so near graduation or he’d spent a great deal of time since educating himself.
“Personal reasons.”
“You married?”
“No.”
“Children?”
“No.”
“What was your last job before undertaking your current venture?”
“A three-year tour in the military.”
“Why didn’t you make it a career?”
“Personal reasons.”
“If you can’t be hired,” she ventured, “how do you afford the rental car you’re driving? Or the motel? Food?”
Another stretch of silence.
“I inherited a great deal of money,” he finally said. “I have an investment manager who keeps it earning for me, and this is how I spend it.”
She braked for a light and glanced at him. “Your family was well-off?”
“In every way except the one that counted.” He stared out the window.
“What happened to your parents?”
“Dead.”
There was something they had in common. “My mom died when I was a little girl.” Bobbie thought of her mother. She used to watch the old family videos every Christmas just so she could remember the sound of her mother’s voice. Whenever she smelled Miss Dior tears burned her eyes. Her mother wasn’t much for wearing perfume, but every Sunday before church she’d dabbed the scent behind her ears.
“You were twelve,” Shade said. “Your father died ten years later while you were a senior in college.”
She nodded. “He kept the blood pressure issue a secret from me. For years I was angry with Uncle Teddy—the chief of police—for not telling me.”
“Peterson is your godfather.”
She shouldn’t be surprised he knew so much about her. Whatever or whoever his sources, they seemed to be thorough. “And my boss. Mostly he’s a pain in my ass.”
“When you became a detective, he purposely ensured you were partnered with Howard Newton.”
She glanced at him as she took the first exit circled on the map. “How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t. I just know what I would do if I had a goddaughter I wanted to keep safe on the streets. I would partner her with a senior detective—a father figure.”
Shade was right. She’d accused the chief of exactly that when she’d gotten the assignment. At the time, Lieutenant Owens had been in another division and Major Crimes was a good old boys club. Romey Larson, the former commander, would have done anything the chief asked. Owens challenged him frequently. The woman had moxie.
It wasn’t that Bobbie had anything against Newt back when she first started in Major Crimes. She’d liked him but she’d wanted to be partnered with someone more her own age. Someone who wouldn’t be so old-fashioned and set in his ways. Now she couldn’t imagine being partnered with anyone else.
Maybe she wouldn’t ask Shade any more questions. He might get the idea that he could do the same. She didn’t like that he could read her so well or that he’d done so much research on her.
Mainly, he made her think about things she didn’t want to think about anymore.
Noon
Not one damned person they interviewed had seen the gray Prius or the black Altima. Bobbie’s stomach warned she should eat soon. Maybe after they stopped at the next hardware store on the list Shade had compiled.
Newt had called. The search of video footage had picked up the black Altima on 85 the night the Rice boy had been dropped. He’d put the kid out and driven away. Mud was smeared on the license plate to ensure it was unreadable. The Altima continued south on 85 until there were no more cameras. The ground search was proving less productive. They had nothing so far. Bauer and Holt hadn’t interviewed a single caller whose story had panned out.
When this stop was finished she and Shade would have the north side of Montgomery covered. There was still east and west and even south. Someone somewhere had seen him. He’d obviously moved about in the city far too frequently to go completely unnoticed.
Shade had taken over the driving four stops ago. Considering how many calls and texts she received from her team as well as the chief, the change was probably a good thing. When Shade climbed out, she did the same. There wasn’t much happening. Not the first car in the parking lot. The temperature was climbing rapidly toward the high of ninety-eight the meteorologist had forecast. Just walking from the car to the storefront had sweat beading on her forehead.
Shade opened the door the way he had every time, and then waited to follow her inside. The bell over the door jingled and the clerk looked up from his work stocking the shelves. He set the box he held aside and offered a big smile.
“Welcome to Myers. How can I help you folks?”
Bobbie shifted her jacket aside and showed the badge clipped at her waist. “Detective Gentry, MPD. This is my associate, Mr. Shade. We have a few questions for you, sir.”
He looked surprised. “Is this about the robbery last month?”
Bobbie shook her head. She showed him the photos of Perry she had saved on her phone, the one with hair and the one without. “Have you seen this man? He may have been wearing a baseball cap and glasses. We believe he would have been looking for items like duct tape, chains. Nylon rope. The kinds of items you’d use to secure something.” Or someone.
“He looks... Wait.” The clerk looked at Bobbie. “He was here. Last week. Thursday, I believe. I was off on Friday. Had to be Thursday.” He scratched his head. “He bought a couple of lengths of chain and eyebolts. A lock.” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Follow me.” He hurried down an aisle to the rolls of chain. “This is the chain he bought.” He hustled over one aisle. “These are the eyebolts and bolts.” He gestured to two of the metal bins. “He also bought a hammer, a battery-operated drill driver and a large flat-tip screwdriver. He wanted some nylon rope but I was just about out. He bought what I had anyway.”
“Can you recall the vehicle he drove?” Shade asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do. It was a newer Toyota Prius. My wife has been nagging me to buy one for her. I think it was silver or gray.”
Anticipation sliding through her veins, she looked around again for cameras. “Do you have security cameras?”
The clerk shook his head. “We were s
upposed to get them after the robbery last month, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Did he say anything beyond what he needed?”
The clerk shook his head. “Not that I can think of. It was one of our busier days. I didn’t have a lot of time to chat like today.” He shrugged. “He was friendly, as I recall.”
“Did you notice which way he went as he left?” It was a long shot, but Bobbie had to ask.
“I didn’t. Once he was out the door and in his car, I was on to the next customer.”
“Can you tell us how he paid?”
“Cash. Our credit card machine was broken, and I had to do everything by hand. It was a real pain. I was really grateful to anyone who brought in cash.”
Bobbie withdrew a business card from her jacket pocket and passed it to him. “If he comes back, call me, text me, whatever you can do.”
He nodded. “I’ll do it.” Recognition flared on his face. “He’s that serial killer. That Storyteller guy.”
“Thank you.” Bobbie hurried away before he recognized her, as well.
When they reached the car, Shade climbed behind the wheel again and handed her the map he’d made notes on. “Wherever he is, he’s closer to this side of town than any other.”
She fastened her seat belt, then squeezed her hands together to prevent him from seeing how they shook. “How can you be certain? He may have driven around and chosen this store at random.”
Shade backed out of the parking slot and rolled onto the street. “He was here before he took Adams. He was in preparation mode. When a serial killer is in prep mode, everything is about efficiency. He’s focused on getting ready for taking down his prey. He won’t waste time driving around.”
Made sense. “How do you know so much about serial killers?”
“I spent a lot of years studying cases. Not just the famous ones—every one I could get my hands on.”
“Why only serial killers?” She glanced at him as she unfolded the map.
“I’m only one man, Detective.” He looked at her and she looked away. “I had to draw the line somewhere.”