Fair Warning (Jack McEvoy #3)(68)

“Not at all,” Mattson said. “Let’s put that behind us. Let’s try to help each other here.”

“Really?” I said. “That’s different.”

“Are you the one who made the post on causesofdeath?” Ortiz said.

I nodded.

“Yeah, that was me,” I said. “And I guess you’re GTO.”

“That’s right,” Ortiz said.

“Jack, I admit it, you put this thing together,” Mattson said. “That’s why I think we can help each—”

“Last we spoke, I was a murder suspect,” I said. “Now you want to work together.”

“Jack, you’re cleared,” Mattson said. “The DNA was clean.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said.

“You did know,” Mattson said. “You knew all along. I didn’t think you were waiting for me.”

“How about this: Did you tell Christina Portrero’s friend that I wasn’t the creep you told her I was?” I said.

“It’s at the top of my list,” Mattson said.

I shook my head.

“Look, Mr. McEvoy,” Sakai said, pronouncing my name perfectly. “We can sit here and potshot each other about mistakes made in the past. Or we can work together. You get your story and we get the guy out there who is killing people.”

I looked at Sakai. He was obviously assigned the role of peacemaker—the man who was above all the skirmishes with only the truth in his sights.

“Whatever,” I said. “You’re about to get bigfooted by the FBI. You’ll be turning this over by tomorrow morning.”

Mattson looked stunned.

“Jesus Christ, you went to the bureau with this?” he exclaimed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked. “I went to you people and you put me in jail.”

“Look, can I just say something?” Ortiz said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “We really need—”

“No,” Mattson said. “Who did you go to over there?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Another person I’m working on this with went there while I went here.”

“Call them off,” Mattson said. “It’s not their case.”

“It’s not your case either,” I said. “There are killings from here to Florida and up the coast to Santa Barbara.”

“See? I told you he was the one who connected all of this,” Ortiz said, looking at Mattson.

“So why am I here?” I asked. “You want to know what I know? Then it’s got to be an even trade and it’s got to be ironclad exclusive or I am out of here. I’ll take my chances with the FBI.”

Nobody said anything. After a few seconds I started to get up.

“Okay, then,” I said.

“Just hold your horses,” Mattson said. “Sit down and let’s cool down. Let’s not forget that there’s a sick fuck out there killing people.”

“Yeah, let’s not,” I said.

Mattson turned slightly to check with his partner. Some sort of nonverbal message was communicated, then he looked back at me.

“All right, we trade,” he said. “Info for info, intel for intel.”

“Fine,” I said. “You first.”

Mattson spread his hands.

“What do you want to know?” he said.

“How’d you get here?” I asked. “Were you following me?”

“I invited them,” Ortiz said. “I saw the post.”

“Coincidence, Jack,” Mattson said. “We were here, meeting with Gonzo, when you showed up.”

“Tell me why,” I said.

“Simple,” Mattson said. “Gonzo started looking around after your post and started connecting cases, same as you. He knew Sakai and I had Portrero, so when two of these AOD cases came up in one day he called us and said they might all be connected. Here we are.”

I realized that I was light-years ahead of them on the investigation. I could share some of what I knew and blow their minds—and still keep some details for myself and my story. I also had the printouts from Hammond’s lab that I had to be careful about revealing.

“Your turn,” Mattson said.

“Not yet,” I said. “You haven’t told me anything I don’t already know.”

“Then what do you want?” Mattson said.

“The guy who fell off the parking garage today, who is he?” I asked.

“Gonzo?” Mattson prompted.

“Guy’s name is Sanford Tolan,” Ortiz said. “Thirty-one years old, lived in North Hollywood and worked at a liquor store.”

That was not what I was expecting.

“A liquor store?” I asked. “Where?”

“Up in Sunland off Sherman Way,” Ortiz said.

“How does that fit with Hammond?” I asked.

“As far as we can tell, it doesn’t,” Mattson said.

“So, you’re saying it’s a coincidence?” I asked. “The two deaths are unrelated?”

“No, we’re not saying that,” Mattson countered. “Not yet. We’re just getting into this thing.”