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Talia processed all that. “How does this help you?”
“It links the two homicides, Elaine’s and Sara Barker’s. It’s a telltale signature that I never had before, because there has never been a corpse before. Until Marian Harris.” He gave Talia a sharp look, then left the bedroom and clambered down the stairs, snatched his phone up off the bar, and called Mike. When he answered, Drex said, “He takes a button.”
“Come again?”
Sputtering in his haste to get it out, Drex told him of his discovery.
“Possible coincidence,” Mike said.
“It’s possible for me to be voted pope, but how likely is it? Did that deputy in Key West send you the coroner’s report on Marian Harris?”
“We never asked for it.”
“Shit! You’re right. Gray—that’s his name—mentioned the decomposition of the remains. I was focused on the atrocity, and then on getting that party pic enhanced. I’ll call him now. If Marian was clothed when the creep buried her, forensics would have a description of the garments, even if they were partially disintegrated. The report would include the detail of a missing button.”
“You hope.”
“I hope. But this feels right, Mike. If we can connect Marian’s murder to these most recent two, Rudkowski can’t deny that we’re chasing a serial killer. If he does, we’ll jump the chain.”
“But you’ve still got to prove that Jasper Ford is the creep.”
“One step at a time. This is a leap. Stay handy. I’m putting in a call to that deputy now.”
Talia came downstairs as he was rifling through his duffel bag looking for the cell phone that had Gray’s phone number logged. Her hair was still wet from the shower. She smelled of the gel, the scent of which would forever call to mind that erotic experience.
As she walked past him on her way into the kitchen, he said, “By the way, good morning back,” and leaned over for a quick kiss on the mouth, then resumed replacing a battery in the cell phone.
Talia said, “Jasper had his buttons switched out recently so he could take all of the trophy ones with him when he disappeared.”
“That’s my theory. They’re small, portable.”
“When he moves on, he’ll have them sewn onto other clothes, adding the newest two.”
“He would, but he’s not going to move on, Talia.” He clicked on the back of the phone. “He’s not getting away this time.”
He pulled up the number of the sheriff’s office in Key West and hoped to God Gray was on duty. When the main line was answered, he asked for him and, while he waited, watched Talia make herself a cup of coffee. Her hands were shaky. When she turned to face him, he said, “You okay?”
Her smile was tentative. “Yes. It’s just that this pushes it beyond speculation. It’s become very real.”
“I know.” He went over to her and stroked her face. “I’m sorry.”
She covered his hand with hers, holding it against her cheek. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry at all.” He gave her another tender kiss, then righted the barstool and guided her onto it.
“This is Deputy Gray.”
Drex jerked his attention back to the phone call. “Gray, it’s Special Agent Easton.”
After a brief silence that teemed with resentment, the young deputy said, “Agent Rudkowski called me about half an hour ago. He told me all about you and what you’ve done. I can’t talk to you.”
“Deputy—”
“Sorry.”
“Gray! Don’t hang up. Listen. I need—”
“I can’t talk to you.” He was emphatic, but spoke in an undertone, as though afraid of being overheard. “I’ve been warned by the FBI not to talk to you, or send anything to you. Rudkowski also reported all this to my sergeant, who is furious.”
“Okay. Busted. I manipulated you, and my tactics have been questionable.”
