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Time, Eve thought as she hurried back to her division. The clock ticking for Campbell, and now a second clock running. How quickly could she get the remains into DeWinter’s hands – and Morris’s, she added. She wanted that team on this angle.
They’d miss nothing.
Was Melvin Little the first? She’d done a background there, too. The man had been barely a hundred and twenty pounds, and over seventy. But not altogether an easy target. A war vet who’d known the woods, the hills. Who’d survived in them for decades.
Working in her head, she swung back into the bull pen.
“Peabody, set up a conference room – all our data on this investigation. Where’s Baxter?”
“They caught one.”
Eve switched gears, glanced around. “Detective Carmichael, Santiago, are you on something hot?”
“Just tying one up in a bow, Lieutenant,” Santiago told her.
“Tie it fast, then work with Peabody. Is Uniform Carmichael still in the field?”
“He hasn’t come in as yet. I can check in with him,” Peabody offered.
“Do that.”
She headed for the lounge, pulling out her ’link as she went. “I need Dr. Mira,” she said before the admin could do more than identify the office. “As soon as possible. We’ve had another abduction, and I have new information on the unsubs she’s profiled.”
“I’ll relay your request, Lieutenant.”
“Now.”
Eve clicked off, left a brisk voice mail for Garnet DeWinter, and was leaving one for Morris when she walked back into the lounge.
“Wheels are in motion,” she said, holding up a hand to keep Banner in his seat. “I need this pushed through fast. I need you to clear as much of the decks as you can for this. I’ll get back to you. Progress?” she asked Banner.
“Ms. Fastbinder not only agreed, she’s got a judge on tap who’ll push through the order mostly, I think, because he’s relieved she’ll take this out of state, and out of his hair. I just finished talking to my chief. I talked Little Mel’s mama into it, and he’ll get it done. Mostly, I think, for the same reasons as the judge.”
“Doesn’t matter why as long as it’s done. My commander will be speaking with your chief.” She gave him a measured study. “If Whitney gets the impression you’re a rogue lunatic, Banner, we’re not going to get very far.”
“I might be fixated on this, and there’s a girl who decided I was a lunatic when I joined the police, but I’ll hold up.”
She sat, studied him again. She didn’t see rogue or lunatic. “The cabin where his blood was found, where items were taken and not recovered, who lives there?”
“It’s a rental type. Lots of them around. This one was shut up for a few weeks. Septic issues the owner hadn’t gotten around to dealing with.”
“So, empty.”
“That’s right.”
“Security.”
“A lock on the door.”
“Easy target for somebody looking to score a few easy-to-transport items. The unsubs break in, start taking what they want. Little comes along. Altercation, he’s killed or incapacitated. How far from the cabin did you find him?”
“Not counting the drop? It’d be maybe a half a mile on the back road, another quarter mile to the trail where they say he fell off. Some say jumped, but that’s bullshit.”
He drew in a breath, shoved at his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to use hard language.”
“The day ‘bullshit’ is hard language in a cop shop, that’s the day I turn in my badge. Which is never. Did your people look for blood in the cabin? Signs somebody cleaned it up.”
“We can handle that kind of thing. It was just a little blood. They missed it when they cleaned up, in my opinion. Used a tarp, like they’ve used on others. Keep the blood off the scene.”
