21st Birthday (Women's Murder Club #21)(47)

I said, “Why would he do that and move to a remote place like this? Sure sounds like he’s on the run to me. There a picture of Evan Burke’s new face?”

“I sent it to you, Blondie,” my husband said. “You’ll get it when you turn on your phone.”

“Thanks,” I said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. I took my phone out of my breast pocket.

“Hmmm,” I said, staring at a candid shot of a man crossing a street under slanting sunlight — somewhere. He was good-looking but unremarkable.

I said, “No distinguishing features that I can see. Around six feet. Full head of dark hair. He looks younger than — what? He’s got to be sixty.”

“That’s right. Might color his hair to go with his unlined new face.”

“What kind of vehicle does he have?”

“He had a cabin cruiser at one time,” Joe said. “The type you could live on. He might still have it.”

I said, “Gotta give the guy an ‘A’ for getting away from it all. What do you think, Joe? Is he escaping his grief, reinventing himself? Or is he a killer in hiding?”

Joe said, “But, here’s why this couldn’t wait, Lindsay. Berney says Burke usually makes a move after a kill. He could be getting ready to take off about now, or may already be gone. That’s all Berney’s got.”

I said, “So, a career killer in hiding and now on the move.”

“All we know or think we know is that he’s breathing free air. Right now you might get the jump on him. He won’t be expecting the SFPD.”

“Gotcha. I’ll share with the boss. Thanks for doing this, Joe.”

“Happy to do it. Maybe one day you can thank Berney.”

With the comforting sound of electronic chickens clucking in the back seat, I slid closer to Joe, put my arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.

I asked the little chicken counter in the back seat for a kiss and said thanks and good-bye to Mrs. Rose.

“You’re too farrrrr.”

I got out of the car, opened the back door, said, “I’m leaving now, Bugs.”

She threw her little arms around my neck and gave me a kiss.

“Be careful,” Joe said. “Assume he’s a psychopath with a vengeance.”

“I’m just going to see Brady.” I patted my holster. “See you in a bit.”

I walked back into the Hall and up to our department. Brady was on the phone when I slipped into the seat across from his desk.

He said into the mouthpiece, “Love you, too.”

After he hung up with Yuki, I spent ten minutes briefing him on the news from Joe’s mysterious CI.

Brady said, “We have to check it out. Tell all of this to Conklin. I need to make some calls.”





CHAPTER 62





RICH CONKLIN WAS working alone at his desk.

I dropped into the swivel chair that had molded itself to my weight and shape over the years. Then, I stuck out my arm and swept all of Sonia Alvarez’s things aside; sunglasses, thermos, stack of papers, glass paperweight, a number of pens. Then I folded my arms over the space I’d made for myself.

I looked up to see Conklin grinning.

“What?”

“I think you’d like her if you gave her a chance.”

“You’re talking crazy, Richie. I like her fine. She’s been here for what? A week? I’ll take her to lunch, okay? I just need room to spread out.”

“She’s so excited about our everyday —”

“Our everyday is about to get more intense.” I looked at my watch, then back to Richie. “Soon.”

“Tell me.”

I told him everything that Joe had told me, except the name of his source. I told him about Evan Burke changing his name and face, the warning from Joe’s CI that Burke was on the move, that we had nothing on him except Lucas Burke’s untested and self-serving theory that his father was a mass murderer.

I told him we were going to make a move.

Conklin wasn’t grinning anymore, and I wasn’t thinking about singing along with Sheryl Crow on my guitar, either.

I said, “Call Alvarez. Tell her we need her now. Is she ready for this … baptism by fire?”

“I have no doubt.”

By 8 p.m., the Burke task force met on the street in front of the Hall of Justice.

Brady briefed us under a streetlight, laying out our objective: to bring him in to get his comments on his son on the record. “We want to bring him in without a shot fired or a door kicked in. But if it goes that way, we’re ready.”

And then Brady got into a van with Cappy and Alvarez and two other cops with tac team experience.

Conklin and I were assigned an unmarked car with a dedicated channel, high-tech navigation, and vest mics. Conklin wanted the wheel, so I willingly agreed to navigate us to a place I’d never been. Captain Brevoort had assigned the Wendy Franks investigators to join our caravan while Chi stayed back at the Hall and used Brady’s office as command center.

As the mission clarified and became real, my emotions bounced between excitement and something resembling stark fear.

The task force was acting on my secondhand intel. If Berney was wrong, I’d hold myself responsible for sending this crew on a road trip to nowhere, and God forbid resulting injuries or death.