The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(36)



“Makes sense to me,” Curtis said. “But that still leaves us with the question of why he rushed through it.”

“Could be something as simple as he had no place to bring the body,” Vail said, “where he could take his time. He’s been in prison and he’s on the run.”

“And he doesn’t know how long he’ll be out,” Johnson said, “how long he’ll be free, so he’s doing his best to get in as much ‘fun’ as he can. Yeah, he takes less time with the body, enjoys it a little less, but he’ll make it up in volume.”

Vail filled her lungs with frigid, moist air. She exhaled and sent a robust cloud of vapor into the forest. “Hope you’re wrong, Leslie. Because that would really suck.”

HURDLE LEFT SHORTLY THEREAFTER, but Vail, Curtis, and Johnson remained at the crime scene another ninety minutes, passing theories back and forth. They decided that until they knew more about Tammy Hartwell—who she was, where she frequented, and what could have brought her into the crosshairs of Roscoe Lee Marcks—they were playing with a deck of cards missing all the suits: you didn’t get very far and the game was not much fun.

Hurdle had excused Vail and Curtis from returning to the command post until the morning. Given their past experience with, and knowledge of, Marcks, their time was better spent working the new homicide—for the moment. When he got the call about the Hartwell murder, he had directed Tarkoff to hand out assignments to the task force members. They could deal with the “fugitive 101” items that they had discussed before they broke for dinner. And if there were things they needed help with, he could pull more men and women from the Marshals Service as well as the county police force.

When Vail walked into her house at midnight, she found Richard Prati sharing a glass of port with Robby in the family room. Jonathan had driven Ryan home, then gone on to his dorm because he had an 8:00 AM class.

“You two still at it?”

Robby sat up and drained his glass. “We were swapping stories about growing up in Los Angeles.”

Vail wondered if he had disclosed some of the most significant ones, those he had told Vail a few years ago. His face was impassive and she could not read it—a rarity.

“We had some similar experiences,” Prati said. “Why we got into law enforcement.”

Vail picked up a pillow from the couch and fluffed it, put it back in the right place. “I’m glad you two connected. It’s good to have those kinds of relationships where you work.” God knows it took me awhile to find them.

“We’ve got each other’s backs. Figuratively.” Prati laughed. “I’ve got a good gig doing what I do. Something opens up in my unit …” He shrugged. “We’ll see. Robby may be interested.”

Vail studied him intently—but his expression did not reveal anything. “If you had it to do over again, Richard, would you leave ATF for DEA?”

“I’ve been lucky to have spent time with two law enforcement agencies I admire and respect. I cherished my years at ATF. And I wouldn’t trade my work with DEA for anything. So, tough decision. But yeah, I’d do it again.”

Robby pushed himself off the couch. “I’ve gotta get up early.” He gave Prati a man hug. “We’ll have to do this again. Hopefully a time when your wife can join us and Karen won’t get called away.” He glanced at Vail. “Miracles have been known to happen.”

Vail grinned. And clenched her teeth. I love you, honey.

“Maybe catch a Nats game next season,” Prati said. “A buddy of mine has season tickets.”

Vail gave Prati a hug and backed away. “Great seeing you again, even if it was only a short visit.”

She had washed her face and pulled off her clothes when she heard the front door close. After she fell into bed, Hershey climbed in beside her and cuddled up against her body.

Off in the distance, she heard Robby talking to her. But that was the last thing that registered as she fell into a deep sleep.





17


What do I do about the book tour?”

Jasmine and Vail were sitting in a McLean, Virginia, Starbucks. Vail had pulled the lid off her venti Americano and was stirring in a packet of raw sugar.

The snow had stopped during the night but the cold temperatures persisted. The café was warm and cozy, the inside of its windows dripping with condensation.

“That’s going to have to be put on hold. I just don’t see a way around it.”

“If I can’t promote my book, I might be in breach of my contract. My publisher—”

“Will be very happy with the press and media attention. They’ll do fine. In a way, this is the best possible thing that could’ve happened for them.”

Jasmine stared out the window, wrapping her hands around the coffee to warm them. “We’ll see. If I’d known this was gonna happen …”

Vail took a bite of her egg sandwich as she waited for Jasmine to finish.

“You’re going to say you never would’ve written the book?”

“Hell no. It was cathartic in more ways than one.” She glanced around the café and lowered her voice. “It wasn’t something I planned to do. It just sort of happened when I began reflecting on everything, how I’d lived with a man who had brutally murdered young women and men, how that man had kissed me and held me when I was afraid. The most important man in my life.”

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