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“Okay. You, me, West, Boyd, Simpson—”
“George? How does George Simpson fit into this?” Boxner asked.
The chief said with exaggerated patience, “George Simpson used to be a State Trooper.”
“About a million years ago.”
“He’s got the training, and he knows the area. Which would be useful since the rest of you are claiming you’ve never been there.”
“Up to you,” Boxner said.
“I know it’s up to me,” Gervase said shortly. “And our final man—person—will be Officer Dale.”
“The little kiss-ass should love that,” Boxner said.
“Boyd, you are starting to piss me off,” Gervase said. “What’s gotten into you?”
Boxner scowled, muttered something, and walked away.
“Thinks he knows better than the old man,” Gervase said wryly.
Kennedy said, “They always do.”
* * * * *
“Remember the time we opened that old icebox and found that nest of snakes?” George Simpson was saying. “I’m surprised they didn’t hear us all the way in Boston.”
Gervase snorted. Catching Jason’s expression in the rearview mirror, he said, “They weren’t poisonous snakes.”
Jason and Kennedy were riding with the chief and George Simpson in the chief’s SUV while Boxner and the personable and efficient Officer Dale followed in a second vehicle.
“Oh,” Jason said. “Great.” He glanced sideways at Kennedy. Kennedy was staring out the window at the woodland flashing by as they headed down the highway toward Rexford, but there was the tiniest of quirks to his mouth.
“We don’t have many poisonous snakes out here,” Gervase said. “You find timber rattlers and copperheads in Hampshire and Hampden. Sometimes Norfolk. Which is not to say Rexfor
d doesn’t have its dangers.”
“You just have to exercise common sense,” Simpson said.
Gervase laughed. “Which we never did.”
Simpson looked to be a few years younger than the chief, which still made him rather old to be Charlotte’s father, but Jason knew a bit about that. No one could have been more surprised than his own parents finding themselves pregnant again after having raised their family. Though technically the youngest of three, in practice Jason had been an only child.
He gathered Simpson was a widower and a little overprotective when it came to Charlotte. Not that Jason could blame a guy for being overprotective in a town where it had once been open season on teenage girls.
“I thank God I didn’t let Charlie go to that party,” Simpson said.
Gervase said, “We’re going to have to talk to her again about McEnroe. You know that.”
Simpson nodded. “She’s got nothing to hide.”
“Kids always think they have something to hide. We did.”
Simpson’s frown faded. He grinned at some long-ago memory.
Jason asked, “Were the remains of any of the other victims found in the vicinity of Rexford?”
Kennedy answered. “No. But that’s irrelevant. We’re dealing with a completely different offender. Pink didn’t care whether his victims were found or not. He didn’t stage them, but he was an exhibitionist in his own way. He liked the idea that people would be shocked and horrified by what he’d done. That said, once he was finished with them…out of sight, out of mind. Our unsub may be counting on Rebecca not being found.”
