Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10)(81)

“The FBI has made some progress on that front,” Quincy reported. “After our little powwow this morning, we started running Google searches based on some of the username ideas we discussed, across some of the online platforms we believe Ness would’ve frequented. In the end, we discovered an identical username on several social media sites as well as some more … specific … sexual fantasy forums. We’re still building the user profile, but we believe Jacob’s username is most likely I. N. Verness. Capital I, period, capital N, period, capital V, Verness. So it looks like first two initials, followed by a last name. But it’s actually a shout-out to Jacob’s hometown.”

“And a county associated with another legendary monster.” Flora was nodding. “That sounds exactly like him.”

“Our experts will now flesh out a full online profile of INVerness, including specific site visits and website details. In turn, this will allow us to subpoena information from these sites. We’re also running codebreaker software as we speak. I’m told within twelve to fourteen hours, we may finally have the answers to Jacob’s online activities.”

The FBI agent sounded triumphant. D.D. couldn’t blame her.

“You said Conrad’s father worked Major Cases for the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office.” Keith again.. “Was it possible he’d been investigating Jacob Ness?”

“Twelve years ago?” Neil shrugged. “Was Ness even on anyone’s radar screen?”

“We didn’t know about him till Flora’s abduction,” Quincy said. “At least not as a serial predator. Prior to that, he had a criminal record for assault. Upon release from prison, however, he disappeared from law enforcement radar screens.”

“He was never going back,” Flora murmured. “A man with his appetites didn’t belong behind bars.” She looked up at Quincy. “He didn’t stop attacking women after prison. He just got smarter about it.”

“Meaning a JSO detective might have been looking into him,” Keith pressed.

“I’ll call the Investigations Division chief,” Neil conceded. “Given how far back we’re looking, it might take them a bit, but there’s gotta be a record of Detective Bill Conner’s active cases at the time of his death.”

“I’m thinking a big rig could certainly run a car off the road,” Keith said. “That’s all.”

Personally, D.D. thought Keith Edgar saw Jacob Ness everywhere. Which was the problem with amateur sleuths—they often started with a theory of the case, then worked backward to justify their suspicions, versus letting the evidence do the talking. However … She leaned forward to address Neil. “When you’re talking to the Jax commander, ask him if Conrad ever called with the same request. Or has made any follow-up inquiries about his father’s work. It would help tell us where his head was at—searching for his parents’ killer, trying to finish what his father started. I don’t know. But we need to figure it out.”

“If only his wife hadn’t shot up the computer,” Phil said now.

“She claimed she did it to protect her husband’s reputation,” D.D. provided. “When she walked in on the scene, Conrad was already dead, and the laptop was open with photos of … victimized girls on the screen.”

“Sounds like motive for her to kill him right there,” Phil countered.

“Sure. But …” D.D. frowned. “I don’t think she did it. The story she told Flora and me, coming home to the scene in the office, her instinctive need to cover for her future child’s father …”

“Ah, but didn’t you believe her story last time? Which turned out to be just that, a complete fabrication concocted by her and her mother?”

D.D. scowled at her former mentor. “I’m not saying we take her off our radar screen. Clearly, there was a lot going on in this marriage. But she did give us the financial lead …”

“All the better to direct you away from her.”

“And there was an eight-minute gap between shots fired.” D.D. skewered Phil with a look. “Say, the gap that would occur if a wife had come home right after the killer had fled, stumbled upon the scene, and for reasons of her own, took action against the laptop.”

“You mean a mysterious killer who fled through a heavily populated neighborhood and left no trace, no witnesses behind?”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” D.D. informed Phil.

“Thank you.” He helped himself to a fresh slice, no doubt thinking he’d earned it.

“Which brings us to the arsonist.” Flora spoke up, redirecting them. The woman looked tired, D.D. thought. She probably hadn’t slept since first seeing Conrad’s picture on TV. But she had acquitted herself well today.

“The suspected arsonist is a firebug. Obsessed with one thing only.”

“He’s not the shooter,” Quincy filled in.

“If it doesn’t involve flame, it would never hold his attention. His services are for hire, however.”

“The shooter employed the firebug to burn down the house in order to cover up any evidence he might have left behind,” Quincy said.

Flora nodded. Keith looked impressed by her new leading role. “Now, this arsonist, Rocket, isn’t exactly big-time muscle. More like a local kid with a reputation for playing with matches. He’s smart, though. Smarter than I originally gave him credit for. He’s never been caught or charged with a crime, so while his services are available for hire, how you learn about him …” Flora’s voice trailed off. She looked at Keith. “I was wondering about the dark web again. Earlier, you and SSA Quincy were discussing that Jacob was definitely using it. Evie says the images her husband had loaded up on his laptop were on an Onion site. This Rocket kid, how would someone know enough to hire him unless his … interests … appeared somewhere?”