“He didn’t respond well to me. He will to you.”
“Because I look like his dead girlfriend,” she said bluntly.
In the ambulance, Matt and Kara had been brought up to speed on everything that the team had learned about Garrett Reid and Clara Dolan. Ryder had also uncovered information that, while Becca McCarthy’s remains hadn’t yet been found, the local police were very interested in the theory that ClaraDolan killed her and were putting the case back to the forefront. They had boxes of potential evidence and video surveillance that they were going to reanalyze against Dolan’s photo and social media history. Ryder had offered the FBI lab and expedited facial recognition processing if they needed it—but it would still take a few days.
Jim had driven to Clinch County with the Jacksonville ERT to take point on the crime scene—both the farmhouse and the abandoned factory. Matt had given him a strict warning not to go inside the factory until it had been completely cleared, no matter how long it took.
Now they were sitting in a sedan outside Garrett Reid’s apartment with Catherine insisting Kara was the only one who might get Reid to talk. Kara wasn’t certain she believed Catherine, but she was willing to try.
“We’re going to find evidence of his involvement at the factory,” Catherine said. “It’s just a matter of time before we can charge him with federal kidnapping, torture, and homicide since they transported their victims across state lines. He’ll be an accessory to the kidnapping and attempted murder of Lily and Nathan Graves—Nathan is not yet twelve, so that’s special circumstances felony endangerment of a child. Even if he didn’t know what her plan was, we can wrap him up in it. If he cooperates, and we take Clara into custody, we can charge him as an accessory. He might get out in twenty years.”
“That’s bullshit,” Kara said. “He may not have been the instigator, but he participated in the murders of six people.”
“Ultimately, those decisions aren’t ours. We need to find this woman. She is wily and has the money to disappear.”
Kara understood making deals, she just didn’t like it. And Catherine was right—this wasn’t their call to make.
“I’ll do my best,” Kara said.
“I know you will.” Catherine hesitated, then said, “I’m glad that you and Matt were not seriously injured.”
“Me, too,” she said. Her leg was sore and still partly numb from a local anesthetic that Billy injected into her. She had declined pain meds because they messed with her head, though she might take them tonight. But Billy had done an amazing job on her leg and given her antibiotics, plus had the doctor call in a prescription that she’d pick up when she was done with Reid.
“Have you heard about Lily?” Kara asked before getting out of the car. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She regained consciousness,” Catherine said, “but they’re still running tests. She has internal bleeding and will likely go into surgery. However, she has a severe concussion so I don’t know what their plan is at this point. Franklin, her husband, is there now.”
“Good. She and Nathan are innocents. They should never have gone through that—it was pure psychological torture. But they would have died in that house because Clara sabotaged it. She didn’t know when it would collapse, but she damn well knew itwouldcollapse. That’s all on Clara Dolan.”
“Yes, it was primarily psychological torture. All of the murders were psychological as well as physical. I think that was what motivated her, twisting emotions. Setting up painful ways for her victims to die while keeping her own hands off them.”
Kara glanced at Michael. “All right, let’s do this. You good?”
“He makes one move toward you, I’m putting him down,” Michael said.
Kara grinned. “Good to know.”
Her leg felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, but she could walk slowly. Still, she accepted Michael’s arm as a crutch.
Her phone vibrated. It was a text from Matt.
Nothing broken, three cracked ribs, one giant bruise. No internal bleeding. But they gave me an IV of fluids and vitamins and I feel like a half-million bucks. Come to thehospital when you’re done and I’ll get you one of these amazing IVs, too.
She chuckled and sent him a thumbs-up emoji. She wondered if he was on pain killers or just happy to be alive.
Michael knocked on Garrett’s door. “Who is it?” Garrett said from the other side.
“LAPD Detective Kara Quinn, aka Kara Costa, who you attempted to kidnap along with my pretend husband, FBI agent Matt Costa.”
The door swung open and he stared at her as if he was not only shocked that any cop would show up, but specifically surprised to see her.
“What’d you think? That your wife killed me? Nope, though it was close. May we come in?”
“You, not him.”
“He’s going to insist. I suppose the three of us can chat out here, but it’d be much more comfortable in your place so the neighbors don’t hear our conversation.”
She motioned to the apartment next to Garrett’s, where a kid and his mom were looking out the blinds at them.
