21st Birthday (Women's Murder Club #21)(42)

“You don’t have to ask twice,” I said. “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, traffic permitting.”

Traffic permitted.

My family was waiting on the front steps of the apartment building when I cruised to a stop at the curb. Joe opened my car door, and while Julie hung on to our old doggie’s leash, Joe gave me a big smooch.

I locked the car, then picked Julie up and carried her for a full block, glad to stretch my legs and hear my daughter’s breathy voice in my ear.

“We had chicken wings.”

“Oh, good.”

“Dad saved you some pie.”

“What kind?”

“Dad, what kind?”

“Peach, right?”

“Good. I love peach pie.”

“Put me down now, Mommy.”

The park was full of dogs and families when we got there, and Julie found her friend Chrissy. While they counted, named, and fed the ducks, Joe and I took a bench with a view of the children at lake’s edge and the surrounding park.

My husband and I sat close together on a wooden bench in the twilight and I squeezed his hand.

“Bad day?” he asked me.

“Not the worst ever, but knotty.”

“Well my day hasn’t been knotty or even tangled. So lay it on me.”

“I’d hoped I could co-opt your brain for a bit.”

“Ready and eager,” he said.

I let it all out. Since I had free access to the former director of Homeland Security with years of experience with the CIA and the FBI, I thought maybe he could help me with my tricky damned case. I told him about the meeting this morning with Red Dog and Lucas Burke and his shark, Newt Gardner.

Joe said, “Burke either has more money than we know, or Gardner is seeing a lot of cameras in this case.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “Man killing his wife and baby isn’t just tabloid news. It’s 60 Minutes. We’re holding back the other victims.”

“So holding back on Misty and the sea-loving artist who’d lived in Sausalito?”

“Wendy Franks. And that young girl from Boise, Susan Wenthauser. We can’t prove anything, not even motive. Maybe before the trial, if there is one, we’ll get some evidence. We can always hope someone comes forward on Franks or Fogarty.”

“Could be very afraid.”

“Yeah. But. Right now, we have a potential turn in the case you’re not going to believe. Picture this, Joe. Burke is in the hot seat, all of us sitting around Parisi’s desk. The meeting is over. We’re two seconds from leaving the room. Then Gardner whispers to Burke and then Burke said this, Joe —”

I had to pause to get up and grab Julie before she waded into the lake. She and I had a very agreeable chat about the ducks, I said hello to Chrissy’s mom, then went back to Joe, who was smiling fondly as he watched this little scene.

“You cliff-hung me,” he said.

“Sorry. Where was I?”

“Lucas Burke said something.”

“Right. Right. Then he says with his lawyer’s encouragement, ‘I think my father killed my mom and sister and maybe others. I think my father is a serial killer and I think he killed Lorrie and Tara.”

“His father?” said Joe. “Burke says his father killed his wife and daughter?”

“That’s what he said. His own wife and daughter and Burke’s, yes.” I let him in on the day’s work. Evan Burke had an old boat license and no known address; I had a verified police report that Evan Burke’s wife and daughter had in fact disappeared and been investigated as a homicide.

“It’s a cold case now.”

Joe said, “So I’d look for patterns of several women disappearing in various places. See if Evan Burke lived in the vicinity.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Might be able to find something like that if we had a computer wiz on staff or three of them who could just hunt for that.”

We were both silent for several minutes, watching the kids, having thoughts of serial murder.

Then Joe said, “I have a thought. Did I ever mention a guy named Berney?”

“Don’t think so. Who is he?”

“He was with the FBI, DC office, back in the day. We used to think of him as a magician of the dark side. He had contacts, informants, a network here and overseas. And a special kind of mind for detail. I think I still have his number.”

Joe pulled his phone out of his jacket, swiped a few buttons, and a few seconds later, his call was answered.

The two did some catching up. Where are you? What are you doing? How long has it been? Then Joe said, “Berney, here’s why I called. You remember my wife, Lindsay, an SFPD Homicide sergeant? She’s working on a case that resembles a black hole.”

I didn’t have my ear to the phone, but from what Joe said, I got the impression that Berney’s network remained intact. He knew of the Burke-related killings. He also knew that Lucas Burke was on the hook for them.

Joe said, “Could you run a check on the father? Name’s Evan Burke. And before you ask, I don’t have a location beyond our general vicinity.”

Joe listened. Berney was doing the talking, punctuated by Joe saying, “Okay, I understand,” “Got it,” and finally, “Well thanks. I’ll tell her. You, too.”