What Have You Done(69)

“These are maritime GPS mapping trips,” Rocco explained. “That red line there is the path a boat took to and from the destination.”

“Yeah, I see. Can you tell specifically which boat it is?”

“Only the slip it launched from. Looks like it was Penn’s Landing Marina, slip 28.”

Slip 28 was where Sean’s boat was kept.

Don fell back against the mainframe towers. Sean and Vanessa had been having an affair, and Kerri knew. Now Kerri was dead.

“Hey, you okay?” Rocco asked. “You don’t look too good. Is this worse than you thought?”

“I’m fine,” Don replied. He cleared his throat and straightened himself. “Give me the drive and erase your copy. Trust me, this is for your own good. You know how to erase something permanently from the system. I suggest you do it. I’m not fooling around.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

“You don’t talk about this to anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Anyone.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

The small apartment was suddenly stifling. Don took the drive and left quickly. Rocco said something to him as he was leaving, but he didn’t hear it. His mind was elsewhere.

Sean and Vanessa.

When he was back out on the street, Don walked half a block to his car. He climbed in, started it, and pulled out into traffic, heading toward Old City. He had no idea someone had been parked three spots away and had been watching him the entire time.





52

It was pushing nine o’clock, and Jane was still in the lab loading data into a computer when Don walked in.

“You got a sec?” he asked.

Jane turned away from her screen. “Of course. What’s up?”

He dropped a small sandwich bag onto the table. “I need this analyzed against the material found in Kerri Miller’s fingernails.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I can’t say. Not yet.” Don closed the door so no one could hear them. “And for the time being, I need this kept between us. There’s a good chance I’m wrong, and I don’t want things blowing up before I get the results back.”

Jane nodded. “Understood. I can have them back to you first thing tomorrow morning. It’s not hard to analyze.”

Don saw a file sitting on the edge of Jane’s desk marked “Miller Case: Other Victims.” “What’s that?” he asked.

“You’d already left when I briefed the lieutenant and the others. We found additional victims through an off-line NCIC search. I’m just uploading the info into the database so we all have the same information.”

“More vics?”

Jane handed him the file. “Yup. Caught one down in Wilmington that matched the Miller girl, so we spun out the search radius and found more in Boston, Mamaroneck, Nantucket, Bridgeport, and Baltimore. Pretty much the same MO.”

Don read through each report, his mind churning as he went. The women were abducted, then found the next day. Strangled. Hair cut off. But the cities. They were the same cities from Kerri’s file.

“Theory is Liam was building up to the Miller girl. Another possible theory is these killings are of a serial nature.”

“Liam’s no serial killer.”

“I wish I had your conviction, but after these past few days, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Whose idea was the NCIC?” Don asked.

“Liam’s,” Jane replied. “And yes, it is strange that he would order a search if he knew there was a chance we’d come across these girls. I’ve been struggling with that all day.”

“Can I borrow this file for a second? I’ll bring it right back.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Don hurried from Jane’s office and ran down the hall. He hopped down one flight of stairs and burst through the door to the Homicide Division. Most of the unit was deserted, with the extra manpower either on the street looking for Liam or in the control room doing the same. He walked to his desk and sat down in front of his computer. The laptop came to life, and he plugged in the flash drive Rocco had given him. As the file was downloading onto the screen, Don opened Jane’s file. One by one, he matched the discoveries of the other victims with the maritime GPS coordinates Kerri had tracked. Wilmington, Boston, Mamaroneck, Nantucket, Bridgeport, Baltimore. Every trip Sean took on his boat was a direct match to a victim.

“This can’t be.”

It was all right there. The ruse. The betrayal. The lies. It was Sean. Kerri had been killed because she’d discovered too much about Sean, Vanessa, and the other women he’d killed. Sean was the killer. It all fell into place now. Liam wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave his own prints behind a murder scene. But if Sean was framing his brother, the prints would be the evidence they’d need for a conviction. Sean was making Liam run because he was controlling how these crimes were unfolding. Sean was a killer, and Kerri had discovered his secret. For that, she’d paid with her life in a most gruesome way.

In the solitude of the Homicide Division, Don rose from his seat, took Jane’s file over to the scanner, and began copying everything she had into a PDF. Nothing was what it seemed anymore. Everything had suddenly changed.