CHAPTER 48

Assistant Director Cunningham had commandeered a small conference room for them on the first level. Tully was so excited about having windows—two that looked into the woods at the edge of the training field—he didn’t care that he had to walk up and down stairs, clear to the other end of the building to bring stuff from his cramped office.

He spread out everything they had gathered in the last five months, while O’Dell followed behind him, insisting on putting it all in neat little stacks, lining it up on the long conference table so that it flowed from left to right in chronological order. Instead of being irritated by her anal-retentive process, he found himself amused. So they approached puzzles differently. She liked to start by finding all the corner pieces and lining them up, while he liked to scatter all the pieces in the center, picking and choosing random sections to piece together. Neither way was right or wrong. It was simply a matter of preference, although he doubted that O’Dell would agree with that assessment.

They had tacked up a map of the United States, marking the recent murders in Newburgh Heights and Kansas City with red pushpins. Blue pins marked each of the other seventeen areas where Stucky had left victims before his capture last August. At least those were the ones they knew about. The women Stucky kept for his collection were often buried in remote wooded areas. It was believed there could be as many as a dozen more, hidden and waiting to be discovered by hikers or fishermen or hunters. All this, Stucky had accomplished in less than three years. Tully hated to think what the madman may have done in the last five months.

Tully continued to examine the map and left O’Dell to her housekeeping. For the most part, Stucky had stayed on the eastern edge of the United States from as far north as Boston to as far south as Miami. The Virginia shoreline seemed to be a fertile ground for him. Kansas City appeared to be the only anomaly. If Tess McGowan was, in fact, missing, that meant Stucky really was playing with O’Dell again, bringing her in, making her a part of his crimes. And by choosing only women who she came in contact with, rather than friends or family members, he made it virtually impossible for them to know who might be next. After all, what could they do? Lock O’Dell up until they caught Stucky? Cunningham already had several agents watching her house and following her. Tully was surprised O’Dell hadn’t objected.

Saturday morning and she was already digging in as if it were any other weekday. After the week she had, anyone else would still be at home in bed. Although this morning he did notice that she hadn’t bothered to use makeup to conceal the dark, puffy lines under her eyes. She wore an old pair of Nike running shoes, a chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the tails neatly tucked into the waistband of faded jeans. Though they were in a secured facility, she kept her shoulder harness on, her Smith & Wesson .38 ready at her side. Compared to O’Dell, he felt overdressed, except when Assistant Director Cunningham stopped by, looking as crisp, spotless and wrinkle-free as usual. That was when Tully noticed the coffee stains on his own white shirt and his loosened and lopsided tie.

Tully checked his watch. He had promised Emma lunch and a total discussion of this prom thing. He had already decided to stand firm on the matter. Emma could call it being close-minded if she wanted to, but he simply didn’t want to start thinking about her as being old enough to date. At least not yet. Maybe next year.

He glanced over at O’Dell who stood over the reports they had received earlier from Keith Ganza. Without looking up at him, she asked, “Any luck with airport security?”

“No, but now that Delores Heston has filed a missing-person’s report, we can get an APB out on the car. A black Miata can’t be that hard to miss. I don’t know, though. What if McGowan just decided to take off for a couple of days?”

“Then we ruin her vacation. What about the boyfriend?”

“The guy has a house and business in D.C., and another house and office in Newburgh Heights. I finally tracked down Mr. Daniel Kassenbaum last night at his country club. He didn’t sound very concerned. In fact, he told me he suspected McGowan might be cheating on him. Then he quickly added that their relationship was a no-strings sort of thing. That’s what he called it. So, I guess if his suspicions are true, maybe she simply took off with some secret lover.”

O’Dell looked up at him. “If the boyfriend thought she was cheating on him, can we be certain he didn’t have something to do with her disappearance?”

“I honestly don’t think the guy cares, not as long as he was getting what he wanted.” O’Dell looked puzzled. Tully felt a surge of emotion and knew this was a touchy subject with him. Kassenbaum reminded him too much of the asshole Caroline had left him for. Still, he continued, “He told me the last time he saw her was when she stayed over at his house in Newburgh Heights Tuesday night. Now, if the guy thinks she’s cheating on him, why is he still having her stay overnight at his house?”

O’Dell shrugged. “I give up. Why?”

He wasn’t sure if she was serious or being sarcastic. “Why? Because he’s an arrogant asshole who doesn’t care about anyone other than himself. So as long as he’s getting his jollies serviced, what does he care?” She was staring at him. He should have known when to quit. “What do women see in guys like that?”

“Getting his jollies serviced? Is that what you call it in Ohio?”

Tully felt his face grow red, and O’Dell smiled. She went back to the reports, letting him off the hook, and evidently not realizing how hot the subject made him. Last night, Daniel Kassenbaum had treated him like some servant he didn’t have time for, scolding Tully for interrupting his dinner. Like the guy didn’t think maybe Tully was interrupting his own dinner by looking for his girlfriend? Maybe Tess McGowan really did take off with some secret lover. Good for her.

He stood facing the map again. They had circled possible sites, mostly remote wooded areas. There were way too many to check. The only clue they had was the sparkling dirt found in Jessica Beckwith’s car and in Rachel Endicott’s house. Keith Ganza had narrowed down the chemical concoction that made up the metallic substance, but even that didn’t narrow down the sites. In fact, it made Tully wonder if they were looking in the wrong places. Maybe they should be checking out deserted industrial sites instead of wooded areas. After all, Stucky had used a condemned warehouse in Miami to hide his collection until O’Dell found him.

“What about an industrial site?” He decided to try out his theory on O’Dell.

She stopped what she was doing and came beside him, studying the map.

“You’re thinking of the chemicals Keith found in the mud?”

“I know it doesn’t follow his pattern, but neither did the warehouse down in Miami.” As soon as he said it, he glanced at O’Dell, realizing the subject may still be a touchy one. If it was, she made no indication.

“Wherever he’s hiding, it can’t be far. I’m guessing an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most.” She traced the area with her index finger, a fifty-to-seventy-mile radius, with her home in Newburgh Heights at the center. “He couldn’t drive too far and still keep watch over me.”

Tully watched her out of the corner of his eyes, again looking for any signs of the frenzy, the terror he had witnessed the other night. He wasn’t surprised to find it masked. O’Dell wouldn’t be the first FBI agent he knew who could compartmentalize her emotions. With O’Dell, however, he could see it was an effort. He wondered just how long she could contain them without cracking at the seams again.