"You ready to go through the Barten file?" she said, as she put her things on the desk next to his and handed him a printout.
The pages were neat, bundled, clipped at the corner. Clearly reprinted.
Swiveling his chair toward her, he wondered what had happened to the two reports from last night. No doubt she'd had to throw them away after they'd been crushed underneath two heaving bodies and then shuffled off onto the floor.
He rubbed his head again. "You hear about Kroner?"
"De la Cruz called me."
"I'm surprised you're not going in to interview the guy."
"Oh, I will. You can bet your life on it." She unclipped her stack and spread out the various stapled sections. "So as I was reading through this, something bothered me."
He caught himself staring at her mouth and wanted to kick his own ass: Not only was it inappropriate, but it felt disrespectful.
"What's that?" I'm sorry about last night. "Where are you in the report?"
"The anonymous tip line section. Page two - there was a caller who said he saw Sissy get into a black car at the Hannaford."
"Got it." I shouldn't have put you in this position. "Yeah, no follow-up, though. Guy didn't leave his name."
"I've been thinking about what her mother said about her. Sissy doesn't strike me as the type to do something like that. She was not someone who would get into the car of a stranger."
"Maybe the tip was wrong, or a lie." I wish I could tell you I don't want you, but I can't. "Wouldn't be the first time, and with no follow-up possible?"
Now her eyes fully met his. "But that's the thing. Why weren't there other people who saw her after she walked out the door into the parking lot? She left her car there, right? Why didn't anyone else see what happened when she left - especially if there was a struggle? There were employees retrieving carts, customers coming and going. If we assume Sissy had to be forced into a vehicle, someone should have seen a struggle, or something out of the ordinary."
Scanning the other tips, he nodded. "Yeah, and the layout of that supermarket ... there's nothing across the street or to either side, really. It's set off the road, so it's not as if she would go walking off anywhere."
"Someone should have seen something."
Christ, it was almost like what had happened to him with Kroner: nothing but aftermath ... surrounding a whole lot of blank hole.
Maybe there was something in the Caldwell water that was making people forget.
"Let's start at the beginning," he said, reordering his pile. "And tau, b one step at a time."
As he thought about Bails talking to Kroner, he took out his cell phone and put it on the desk in case the guy called in.
Sissy Barten definitely fit the profile of the killer's victims, and was one of only two reported missing persons in the city who did: Kroner had never gone for males, children, or anyone over thirty, and the other girl who was on the list had been reported as gone almost a month ago, so she might well be outside the time scope.
Sissy was it, Veck had a feeling.
Sissy was his way back into the Kroner case.
Chapter 15
"But I didn'ttouch him."
Jim was naked and shaving in his bathroom as the argument that had started up between Ad and Eddie hours ago continued next door in their room. It was kind of like having a TV on in the background - only their version of commercial interruptions were showers, dressing, breakfast runs, etc.
He got the impression the pair of them had done the back-and-forth forever. They were damn good at it, too ... very creative. And to think he'd once been impressed with his own F-bombing.
"Next time, be more specific," Adrian added. "You can't smack my ass on this one."
"Did you stop to think that what happened to Jim could have gotten into you? There was no one to help you."
"I didn't f**king touch him!"
Dog was ringside for the show, sitting in the open connector, his scruffy head going left and right as one of the boys spoke and the other followed up. The little guy seemed perfectly happy to just hang and play witness to the volleying. Maybe he thought it was the live version of an Animal Planet show; who knew.
Shaking his head, Jim braced his palms on the counter and leaned into the mirror. Last night's go-around with that badge had been a wake-up call. Devina had tricks and minefields he still had to learn about ... and there was no question that Veck was sucked up into all this -
"... vampire."
Jim frowned and leaned back, putting his head out into his room. Had he heard that right? Neither of his boys seemed like Twilight fans, although with Adrian, you never knew where the hell the lines were drawn. And ordinarily, he would have let it go. But he hadn't believed in angels, either ... until he frickin' became one.
"You saying I need to invest in garlic?" he shouted out.
Dog repositioned himself so he could keep his eyes on everybody.
Before a response came through the doorway, Jim's cell phone went off on the bedside table. Going over and grabbing the thing, the screen announced that the call was from a 518 area code.
Good morning, Detective DelVecchio.
"Heron."
"This is Veck. How are you and your colleagues?"
Recovering from all kinds of fun and games with you last night. "Good. Yourself?"
"We've been going through the casework on Cecilia Barten. Do you guys have anything we don't?"
Jim had been prepared for the info request - it was SOP, and the kind of thing he'd have been able to field if he'd actually been an FBI field agent. "I'm not sure. You want to meet and I'll take a look at what you've got?"
"Good call."
"There's not a lot to go on." Devina wouldn't have left dangling threads, and given all that she could manipulate, the cleanup job around the abduction had to have been spectacular.
"Yeah, I know. There were no witnesses - how in the hell could there have been no witnesses?"
Because his Sissy had been taken by a demon, that was why.
Not that she was his.
"Listen," the detective continued, dropping his voice. "I think she's connected to Kroner. Can you double-check your files on him, too?"
"Absolutely." Jim didn't especially like lying, but he had no problem with it when shit called for a fallacy. "I'll see what I can dig up. Lunch?"
"Yeah. Riverside Diner?"
"See you there at noon."
Putting aside the whole vampire thing, Jim walked around the end of the bed and stuck his head through the connector. "We have a date with the good detective."
Eddie and Adrian looked over, and instantly both of them frowned.
"What's around your neck?" Ad demanded.
"At twelve," Jim said, "which means you have another couple hours to argue while I get back on the Internet."
As he backed out and went for the pants he'd left on the chair, they followed him into his room.
"What's up with the necklace?" Ad barked.
Even though Jim was flashing his ass, he decided getting a Hanes undershirt on was more of a priority. He didn't want them to see Sissy's little strip of gold, thank you very much -
"We are f**ked," Adrian muttered. "We are so f**ked."
Jim yanked the shirt over his head. "Thanks for your vote of confidence - "
"She is not your problem! She's just some girl, get over it."
Wrong thing to say in the wrong tone on the wrong morning.
Jim flashed over to the guy and jammed his face into the other angel's. "I spent part of yesterday afternoon staring into the eyes of that girl's mother. So before you write her off as nothing special, I suggest you go over there and see for yourself how much she does matter."
Adrian didn't back down. "And I suggest you get your priorities straight. There've been a hundred thousand pretty, innocent victims in this conflict, and yeah, that's tragic, but it's also reality. She's just the most recent one I've seen - you gonna pull this shit with every chick you come across? This is war, not a goddamn dating service."
Jim bared his teeth in a snarl. "You holier-than-thou motherfucker. Don't you ever pretend to know me."
"Then do us a favor and know yourself!"
Jim stepped back. And glanced at Eddie. "Get him away from me - and keep him there. We're done."
Adrian tossed a,eah, whatever," over his shoulder and walked back into their bedroom. A moment later, a door slammed shut.