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“No one deserves what this guy is doing.”
Tio cracked his thick knuckles. “Lemme see that first guy again?”
I handed the pic over, trying not to let my relief and excitement show. Tio stepped into the light from the street-lamp and peered more seriously at the photo.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I seen this guy around. He comes and sits in the center here and draws, and then pays people ten or twenty bucks or so to pose for him. Seen him other places too.”
“Where else?” I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t appear too eager for the information or it was going to start costing me.
Tio scratched his stubbled chin as he considered. “Shit, I dunno. Mebbe down in the park.”
“Does he ever take pictures of the people when they pose?”
Tio nodded. “Yeah, that’s usually what he does. So is this the guy? This the killer?” He clenched his hands into fists. “Man, I will fuck his shit up next time I see him!”
I reached out and took the picture from Tio’s hand. “No. He’s dead now. The Symbol Man got him too.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.” I pulled out the page that I’d created with the pics of the unidentified people on it. The ones who I hoped were still alive. “How about these people? Do you know where I can find them?”
Tio peered at the page, then motioned one of the other bystanders over. A skinny white male with poor-quality tattoos on his arms shuffled up. Tio showed the page to him.
“I think I know some of these folk,” the second man said. “I mean, not personal, like, but just seen ’em out, y’know?”
“I really need to find these people,” I said. “I think that they might be in danger from the Symbol Man.”
Tio’s brows drew together. “Why he be goin’ after them?”
“I can’t really say right now, but we’ve gotten some leads that might”—I stressed the word—“link all these people—the ones who’ve already been killed, and then these folk—together. I just need to find them.” I gave Tio an earnest look. “If they’re scared of the police, at least let them know to be careful. Tell them not to go anywhere with anyone they don’t know.”
Tio was silent for several heartbeats and then nodded. “This one here’s AnnMarie,” he said, pointing to a picture of a white girl with a fleshy face and dark hair. “And this one’s Skeeter.” He indicated a picture of a rail-thin black man, then glanced around the crowd. “Anyone else know these folk?”
I tried not to react, but my relief was damn near overwhelming. Some of the others began to make tentative identifications, and I scribbled names quickly, breathless. With Tio cooperating, the others were a thousand times more likely to contribute what they knew. There were no last names, but it was still a phenomenal improvement over the nothing that I’d had before.
Tio looked up at me after I finished writing. “That gonna do ya?”
I gave him a smile thick with gratitude. “It’s a terrific start. And if you can spread the word to anyone you know, that would be fantastic too.”
He nodded once, serious. “I’ll take care of it, ladycop.”
“All right, Tio. I appreciate it.” I handed him a stack of copies of the pictures, then gave him a handful of my business cards as well. “If anyone’s willing, I’d really like to talk to them. We need every break we can get on this case.”
Tio tucked the cards and the pictures into a side pocket of his pants. “You got it, ladycop.”
“Cool. Stay out of trouble, Tio, all right?”
He winked and grinned. “Trouble finds me.”
“Then run from it, ya big goof!”
Chapter 18
I spent the next few nights repeating that same scene over and over in equally seedy locations, with slightly different players and awfully similar conversations. I didn’t try to blend in, just worked on talking to the ones I knew, the regulars. This was where my rep as a fair cop paid off. I’d put a lot of these people in jail, but I’d never bum-rapped anyone. And because of that, I had people who were willing to talk to me—especially when I told them what I was after.
At the very least, maybe I can make it too hot for this guy to get any more victims, I thought grimly as I headed home. It was only two a.m., but I knew that I needed to try to wrench my sleep cycle back to something more normal. I turned off the highway and onto the winding trace that was my driveway. I rounded the curve before my house, then slowed, a frisson of wariness going through me as I saw a car parked in front—a dark-blue Crown Victoria. Then the wariness was replaced by a curious mix of annoyance and pleasure as I recognized the car as Ryan’s. What the hell was he doing here again?
Sleeping, I discovered as I got out of my car and walked up to his. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I looked through the window at him. His head was tipped back against the headrest and his mouth had fallen open, and if not for the fact that I had heard him snoring when I was still six feet from the car, I probably would have thought him dead.
