A deep rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Baldwin couldn’t see very far. They were sandwiched in the cloister of houses, but the weather forecast called for severe storms today. Just what they needed-rain to hamper the search efforts.
Baldwin saw the curtains twitch across the street at the Kilmeades’ house. The door opened a few seconds later. Mr. Kilmeade came out onto the porch, fully dressed despite the early hour, the scowl on his face evident from a distance. He started down the stairs, intent. Baldwin broke away from the group to head him off. He met him at the bottom of the drive. Kilmeade had built up a head of steam, Baldwin actually had to put out an arm to stop him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You can’t go over there.”
“What’s happening? Is Harry being arrested?”
“They’re executing a search warrant. Arlen broke his parole when he had contact with your daughter. They have to look at every angle in this case, and Arlen fits.”
Kilmeade was shaking in fury. “That’s a lot of preconceived bull. I told you, Harry wouldn’t hurt a child. It’s not in his nature. And how dare you use my dead child in this case? What is she, just a means to an end? She’s not alive to defend herself, to explain. How dare you?”
“I’m sorry this upsets you, Mr. Kilmeade. But right now, we need to stay back and let the police do their job. Why don’t we go back into your house and have a cup of coffee?”
Kilmeade shook his head. “No. You’re not welcome in my home. You’ve used me and my family to further your sordid goals. I’m going back in and calling a lawyer. You don’t have the right to come in and railroad Harry just because he fits your idea of what a killer should look like.”
“Mr. Kilmeade,” Baldwin started, but the man ripped his arm away and stormed back into his house. Great. Just what they needed, more lawyers involved.
Baldwin went back across the street. Charlotte met him at the door, a huge grin on her face.
“What is it? Did you find Kaylie?”
“No, we didn’t. But he’s got kiddie porn galore on his computer. It was open-we must have interrupted his morning constitutional. More than just dabbling, it looks like he might be trafficking, as well. And there’s pictures of all of our victims too, including Kaylie, and several other girls we don’t recognize.”
“Then we’ve got him!” Baldwin had to resist sweeping Charlotte into a hug. He settled for squeezing her hand. This was fantastic news.
“But there’s no sign of Kaylie, or where he might be holding her?”
“No. This is going to take a while. They’ve Mirandized Arlen. Goldman is having him transported back to Fairfax County for interrogation.”
“Has he lawyered up?”
“Not yet, though his PO is going insane. He insists he’s innocent. Arlen says he has nothing to do with any of this.”
“‘Don’t they all. Kilmeade, from across the street? He’s pretty fired up? said he was going to call a lawyer on Arlen’s behalf. So be prepared. Homicide is taking care of the families, right? Do we need to be along for that?”
“No, we’re good there. They’ve got it covered. We can keep focused on helping find Kaylie.”
Baldwin nodded. “Okay. I want to do a walk-through of the house, get a feel for things, and I want to be there when they do the interrogation. There’s still something we’re missing.”
“I figured as much. Goldman said he’d give you a ride whenever you’re ready. It’s going to take a bit to get Arlen processed anyway. I’ll stick around here, if that’s okay with you. I want to see what else they might find.”
“That sounds good. Til see you back in Quantico, then.”
Thirty-Six
Nashville
12:00 p.m.
The mood on the ride back to the CJC was triumphant. Taylor called Commander Huston and told her about the morning’s events, got a nice attagirl that left her feeling good. They were getting close, getting very, very close.
Lincoln met them at the door to Homicide, his grin ear to ear. Even the space between his two front teeth looked cheerful. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Got it,” he said.
“Got what?” Taylor said, discarding her leather jacket behind the door to her office.
‘The IP address of the video uploads. I cross-referenced the IP addresses the video-sharing sites gave me and got a match to one here in Nashville. Right now, I’m looking for the actual place where the movie was uploaded. It came from Davidson County, that much I know. I’m waiting on BellSouth to give me an exact location.”
“Oh, that’s great news. Howr long, do you think?”
“Within the hour.”
“Fantastic work, Lincoln. Really.”
“I’m also collating some reports for you from the autopsies. Hang tight, I’ll be there in five minutes. Sam wants you to drop by her office this afternoon when you have a chance. She has something to show you.”
“Gotcha, thanks. We’ve got too much stuff to cover to handle it in my office. Move everything into the conference room.”
She felt good, that high that comes when a case is about to break free. They were forty-eight hours in and had almost all the pieces together. Good old-fashioned police work, not mind reading and other bunk.
Ariadne stepped into the Homicide offices, the patrol escort at her elbow looking nervous. Ariadne seemed to have that effect on men, Taylor noticed.
Taylor nodded to her, thanked the patrol, who wiped his hand surreptitiously on his blues and backed into the corridor.
“I’m sorry we’re so late. Why don’t we go in my office,” Taylor said.
“All right,” Ariadne responded.
Taylor led the woman in, then shut the door behind her.
“You’re looking very pleased this morning,” Ariadne said.
“It’s been a productive day so far. Listen. I have what we call a six-pack of photos that I want you to look at. You tell me if any of the men in the pictures match the one you saw at Subversion Halloween night, okay?”
“Certainly. Anything I can do to help.”
Taylor laid the hard sheet of paper on her desk, facing Ariadne. Six sets of eyes glared up from a white background. Ariadne sat forward, running her finger along the pictures, absorbing.
She finally sat back. “I’m sorry. No one in those pictures is the boy I saw.”
Taylor shook her head slightly. “Look again.” She couldn’t lead the woman, but Juri Edvin was the second from the right, top row. If she was telling the truth at all, surely she’d recognize him.
“I’m sorry,” Ariadne said. “The boy we’re discussing isn’t in these photos.”
Taylor felt the wind go out of her. She pulled the sheet with the females on it, handed it over.
“What about this?” she asked.
Ariadne was quick this time. “That’s her. Bottom right. She’s the one I saw at Subversion, the one that slapped the boy.”
A little relief bled into Taylor’s system. At least they had a positive confirmation on Susan Norwood.
“Okay. Would you be willing to sit down with a sketch artist to help us draw up something with the boy and the other girl that you saw?”
“There’s really no need for that. Lieutenant.” She reached into a capacious velvet bag and pulled out a roll of parchment. “I’ve drawn them for you.”
She unrolled the paper, the stiff vellum crackling. It was a scene from a bar, happy faces, laughing and jumping in the background. Taylor could almost hear the music thai made them sway to and fro. In the center were a boy and a girl. The girl was tall, willowy, the boy ramrod straight. They looked like they were wearing masks.