Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(91)

“Talia’s taking him, and Dax will ride with them.”

“It’s your arrest. Aren’t you going to question him?”

“After I take you to the ER.”

“But—”

“He can wait. I’m taking you.”

? ? ?

By nightfall, the police station was a madhouse. People from everywhere congregated by the flagpole, including a rabid pack of reporters who shoved microphones in Talia’s face as she made her way inside. Joanne was at the reception desk, frantically fielding calls, and she didn’t even make eye contact as she buzzed Talia into the bull pen.

Every badge in Allen County—and several from surrounding counties—seemed to have found an excuse to show up tonight. Talia spotted Dax’s head above the rest and threaded her way through the crowd. He nodded for her to follow him into the hall beside the restrooms, where they at least had room to talk.

“How’d it go at the house?” he asked.

“They’re just wrapping up.” Talia combed her hand through her stringy hair. The Hansen home was overrun with FBI agents, who had taken over for the local CSIs. “Should be finished within the hour.”

“Anything new?”

“No murder weapon yet,” she said. “But definitely some weird shit.”

Dax arched his eyebrows.

“There’s a closet off the main hallway. Has a dead bolt. The walls inside are all scratched up. Looks like someone used to lock a child in there.”

“Gaines?”

“And maybe his mom, too, when she was a kid? Who knows.”

Talia shuddered, refusing to let herself picture Gaines as a child. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him. She didn’t want to feel anything for him.

She nodded at the pair of closed doors—an interrogation room and an observation room beside it. “How’s it going here? Is that him in the box?”

“No, they took him into County.”

“You’re kidding.”

“They’ve got the grandmother in there, seeing what they can get out of her.”

Frustration swelled inside her. Talia maneuvered her way through the cops milling in the hallway and let herself into the observation room. Nolan shot her a glare. He stood beside Rey Santos. The FBI agent wore his typical suit and tie, even though the stuffy room was about a hundred degrees.

“Shut that door,” Nolan ordered.

Dax eased the door shut behind him as he squeezed in beside Talia, and all four of them focused their attention on a monitor. Black-and-white footage from the camera next door showed Elaine Hansen seated across the table from the police chief. The woman had a thick white bandage wrapped around her head and a box of tissues in front of her. Just the sight of her made Talia’s blood boil.

“What is this?” Talia asked. “I thought we wanted Gaines.”

“He’s not talking,” Nolan said tightly.

“Want me to take a crack at him? Maybe he’ll let his guard down with a woman?”

Nolan shook his head. “He clammed up. Asked for a lawyer.”

Talia looked at the screen again and tuned in to the conversation.

“Something’s not right with that boy,” Elaine said tearfully. “I knew it the day he was born. I saw it in him. His mother dumped him on us when she was eighteen, went on about her wicked life.” She plucked a tissue from the box. “He’s been an albatross around my neck every day since.”

Hank patted her hand. “You did the best you could, Elaine. God knows.”

Talia looked at Nolan. “What the hell is this? We’re coddling her now?”

“It’s called building rapport.”

“It’s called bullshit,” Talia retorted. “That bitch abused him and made him into a monster. This guy killed seven women that we know of—probably more. Four of them while he was living with her. You think she didn’t know about it or at least have a clue? She’s covering her ass!”

“She’s our best shot at getting Gaines to talk,” Nolan said.

“So what if he talks?” Talia thought of Grace Murray with her cuts and bruises and her glassy eyes. Fury bubbled up. “We’ve got mountains of evidence against him. Why do we care if either of them talks? We should throw the book at them, let them rot in jail.”

Nolan gave her a sharp look. “There could be more, Talia. And he’s the only one who can tell us where to find Kaylin.”

The reality of his words smacked her. She looked at the screen again. Hank sat there calmly, nodding and listening, when he probably wanted to shake the woman until her teeth fell out. Kaylin Baird was his grandniece.

“. . . twenty-five years,” she said tearfully. “All that time, he’s been my cross to bear. And now this.”

Hank patted her hand again. “The Lord never gives us more than we can handle, Elaine.”

The woman bowed her head and cried until her shoulders shook.

“Here it comes,” Nolan muttered. “He’s going to flip her. Watch.”

Hank leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “Bryce knows where Kaylin is. We both know it. Tell him to talk to us. He’ll listen to you.”

“He won’t. He never has.”

“Talk to him, Elaine. It’s time for Kaylin’s family to bring her home.”