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“Us?”
“You said, ‘It’ll be up to us.’ You’re working with the police?”
“I am. The Yavapai County Sheriff’s Office and a consultant from California.” She didn’t mention Jonah by name. She knew her parents wouldn’t be thrilled to hear that the man who’d broken her heart was back in her life, even if only in a professional capacity.
“A consultant, huh?”
“Apparently, he has experience with this type of case.”
“Is anyone using the words serial killer yet?”
“Not publicly. But news is bound to get out soon.”
“This will be a tough one.”
“I know.” It was already tough. She remembered the terror she’d felt the night before last at her house. But she had to see this through. Although Jill had said she’d pay her when Francesca promised not to abandon the investigation, Francesca didn’t have the heart to charge for her services, not after what Jill and Vince had lost. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest business decision she’d ever made but, at this point, it wasn’t about generating income. Francesca wanted to bring April’s killer to justice. The way things were going, the life she saved might be her own.
“Just remember, serial killers like to take their victims somewhere they feel comfortable, safe. Find that place, and you’ll likely find the crime scene.”
Butch would feel most comfortable at the salvage yard. But they didn’t have enough evidence to get a search warrant, not after the search they’d already performed, as cursory as it’d been thanks to Hunsacker’s sense of indebtedness to their primary suspect.
Still…there had to be a way to get a better look at Butch’s home turf. Even with his family at the house, he’d have all the privacy he’d need in one of those sheds or among the gigantic rows of rubbish. Predators had hidden their victims in much smaller yards than his, hadn’t they? Take Jaycee Dugard, for example. She’d been held hostage in a tent behind a fairly regular suburban house for twenty-four years. Or that Austrian woman who’d been kept in the basement dungeon of her own father’s house for sixteen years.
Francesca wished they could somehow lure Butch off the property and take a look around while he was gone….
“Francesca?”
“What?” She’d let her mind wander, missed something her father had said.
“I asked if you’d like me to do a background check on your suspect, see what I can learn from here.”
Walt was very talented on a computer and even better at tracking down pertinent information over the phone. “That’d be great, Dad.” Maybe he’d come across a detail they would’ve missed. “While you’re at it, see if you can find a link between Butch Vaughn and another victim, a woman by the name of Bianca Andersen, okay?”
“Sure. Let me get a pen so I can take down her information.”
Jonah walked out of the Jack in the Box just as her father came back on the line. “What was that name again?”
“Hang on.” Francesca covered the phone. “Is that Bianca’s dental file?” she asked, nodding at the cardboard folder he held.
“Yeah.”
Taking it from him, she opened it and recited the patient information, including Bianca’s social security number. “Keep an eye out for the name Dean Wheeler, too,” she said.
“Who’s Dean Wheeler?”
“Butch’s brother-in-law. He’s got some mental health problems. I’m trying to figure out what that means and what medication he’s on.”
“I’ll see what I can find. What’s Butch’s address?”
She gave him the address of the salvage yard, explained Butch’s living arrangements and provided Walt with April Bonner’s name and address, too.
“Who’s helping out?” Jonah wanted to know.
“My father.”
A hint of wariness entered his eyes, but he managed a casual smile. “How’s he doing these days?”
“Good. Fine.”
