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Kennedy gave an impatient shake of his head but didn’t bother to explain. Jason understood though. The police chief was talking about a leopard changing its spots. In this case the spots were psychological markers, but they were just as indelible.
“So we’ve got the same basic MO but two different profiles. Makes sense to me,” Gervase said.
“It makes sense to me too,” Boxner said.
“Our boy is having trouble shooting straight. Or shooting at all.”
Jason took that opportunity to look back at Boxner. “Now that I can see.” When he faced forward, Kennedy was watching him. His expression was unamused.
Gervase said mildly, “Unless this is the return of the Huntsman—and he’s really off his game.”
Kennedy grinned. It was a sharp, white smile. Dangerous.
Gervase grinned too. “Just sayin’.”
It was a long day.
There was a new stack of witness statements to go over as one by one the uninvited guests at Rebecca’s party were tracked down. Jason and Kennedy divided them up, but nothing stood out.
“She was a wild kid,” Jason said. “Not a bad kid.”
“No. Not a bad kid,” Kennedy agreed. “Spoiled. And not smart enough to know when to be afraid.”
That last would be the fault of Rebecca’s parents, who were at that moment down the hall in the chief’s office, demanding progress. Rebecca had grown up believing there was nothing money couldn’t buy because her parents believed there was nothing money couldn’t buy. Including justice.
There were some things no amount of cash or credit could put right.
When the final witness statements proved to be a dead end, Kennedy turned his attention back to tracking down Coral Nunn and Dr. Jeremy Kyser.
Or tried. Nunn was not talking to the FBI, and Kyser’s old number was disconnected. He did not appear to have a new number.
“He’s written three books,” Jason informed Kennedy, studying the iBooks listings. “Voices in the Dark: One Hundred Interviews with Death Row Inmates, Necrophilic and Necrophagic Serial Killers: Case Study Analyses, and the ever popular and bestselling Monsters Among Us: An Introduction to Psychopathy, Perversion, and Lust Homicide.”
“Sex sells,” Kennedy said absently.
They worked through the morning without much to show for it, but that was to be expected at this juncture of the investigation.
A little after one, Kennedy said, “You want to grab some lunch?”
Yes. He did. Jason said firmly, “I’ll get something later.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Kennedy said—and left Jason to it.
When Jason did finally step out for lunch about half an hour later, he called SAC Manning and explained the investigation appeared to be progressing, though not quickly, and he felt his own presence was unnecessary.
“I can’t agree with that, erm, conclusion, West,” Manning said. “I wouldn’t have assigned you to this case if I hadn’t believed your, erm, presence was necessary.”
“Sir, I’m not being falsely modest here. Kennedy has this under control. I’m not exactly sure what happened in Wisconsin—”
“I’ll tell you exactly what happened,” Manning cried. “That arrogant asshole nearly wrecked the investigation. He threatened to punch a county sheriff in his—and I quote—fat fool face on national TV. National TV, West. The governor’s own son-in-law.”
“Ah,” Jason said.
“And then he refused to apologize.”
“I see.”
“He is not a team player. He’s…” Words failed SAC Manning. He said, “The only reason I can, erm, sleep at night, West, is because I know you’re on the scene, I know I’ve got some, erm, insight, some intelligence into whatever happens from someone who is, erm, a team player.”
