“Seems like old times.”
“I’d hoped we could build greater trust with local law enforcement by the time I retired, but inroads are difficult to pave. I’m curious. How did you connect with Amy Yang after all this time?”
Darcy lowers her voice and leans forward.
“She’s asleep in my daughter’s room. That’s all she does anymore is sleep, and when she’s awake the poor girl looks on the verge of a complete breakdown.”
Rubbing a stain off the table with the cuff of her shirt, Darcy tells him about Amy quitting school and taking a job in Smith Town.
“Didn’t take long for the stalker to appear,” says Hensel.
“She reached out to me because the local police didn’t take her seriously. How wealthy do you think Rivers is?”
Hensel thinks with his eyes for a moment.
“There was the inheritance money, but the court froze his account.”
“Criminals have ways of hiding their money. Offshore accounts and shell companies to name two.”
“But he’d need a way to move his money around. Rivers doesn’t have computer access.”
“He’s not supposed to have phone access either, but that hasn’t stopped him.”
“You think he’s paying off someone at the prison?”
“And financing our killer, yes.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up. So, what nuggets of wisdom did Detective Ames impart last night?”
Darcy chuckles mirthlessly.
“He’s convinced the caller impersonated Rivers. But there’s one way to find out.”
Hensel sets his elbows on the table.
“I know what you’re suggesting, and I’m telling you it’s not worth it.” Darcy hears the scream in his voice as he scrambles for a way to dissuade her. “Rivers isn’t talking. He didn’t reply to any of my questions.”
“He’ll talk to me.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Darcy finishes her coffee and sets the mug down.
“Because I’m the one who took him down.”
An army of gray, swollen clouds bank overhead as Darcy stands in the driveway, arms folded as she thwarts a wind that wants to rip the heat from her body. It’s a difficult decision asking Bronson to watch the house. She’s known him for less than three months, and though her kids get along with him, it feels like a risk.
As Bronson parks the pickup and climbs out of the cab, Darcy realizes she hasn’t been away from Hunter and Jennifer during the last three years.
“I’m asking too much,” she says, bouncing on her toes to stay warm.
Bronson yells over the wind.
“Nonsense. I planned to stay the night, so there’s no problem sticking around until you return.”
Lifting his gaze toward the agent in the doorway, Bronson’s body stiffens. After a pause, he strides forward and offers his hand.
“You must be Agent Hensel. I’m Bronson Severson, a friend of Darcy’s.”.
“I’m sure she appreciates you watching the house. We won’t be long, and I promise to have her back by tomorrow.”
“Where are you flying out of?”
“Rocky Mount. It’s the only ticket I could grab on short notice. They’ll get us to DC, then we’ll take another flight to Buffalo.” Hensel looks over his shoulder at Darcy. “I tried to talk her out of it.”
“I’m learning you can’t change her mind once she sets it.”
“Try partnering with her.”
They grab their bags inside and escape the cold. It rarely snows this close to the coast, but Darcy expects flurries by the time they load Hensel’s rental. Bronson patiently stands by while Darcy explains how to set and disarm the alarm. She’s leaving the laptop so he can monitor the cameras. Her phone app will keep her connected, provided she has service where they’re going.
The ride to the airport takes ninety minutes. A cold rain pours from the swollen clouds. Darcy shields her face from the spray as they run from the parking lot to the terminal.
During the flight, turbulence rocks the plane and sets her stomach on edge. When the puddle-jumper plane sets down in DC, her face is pallid, arms tingling with pins and needles.
Hensel follows her onto the moving walkway and stands aside for the rushing commuters late for their connections.
“Sure you want to go through with this?”
“I can’t look myself in the mirror knowing I couldn’t face him. He’s behind the Genoa Cove murder.”
“Sounds like you’re leaning toward the apprentice theory, that he didn’t act alone.”
“Or he’s influencing a copycat. Rivers has phone access despite what the warden told you. Let’s find out who he’s talking to.”
Sunset hides behind a thick blanket of clouds as usable light vanishes at a distressing rate outside Buffalo. Darkness sets in when they approach the prison, a brown brick monstrosity ringed by a chain-link fence with barbed wire loops bordering the top. Darcy worries about another attack, but Hensel, reading the anxious look on her face, hooks her elbow with his and hurries her to the gate.
After security clears them, the doors open like the maw of a faceless beast, and they step into a heavily secured entryway. Hensel flashes his badge and introduces Darcy as Dr. Gellar. The heavyset guard glances at her before waving them through.
“Remember,” Hensel says, leaning close so the escorting guards can’t eavesdrop. “The warden is under the impression this little trip is a followup. He’s asking a lot of questions about whether this is an official visit. So far I’ve danced around the issue, but he’ll know something is up if we don’t get in and out quick. All right, Dr. Gellar?”
“Absolutely, Special Agent Hensel.”
Standing a head taller than Hensel, Warden Ellsworth awaits them at the end of a locked corridor. He’s bald and wrinkled, black eyes set back in his head and rimmed by an expensive pair of bifocals. He regards Darcy with curiosity before turning his attention to Hensel.
“Welcome back, Agent Hensel. I trust your trip was agreeable.”
“Very much so, Warden Ellsworth.”
“It’s unusual for law enforcement to return so soon after an interview. I would have expected a memo from your supervisor.”
“Events in North Carolina force us to act quickly, Warden. Local law enforcement believes a serial killer is active near the coast.”
“I’m unsure what that has to do with our prisoner, but I assure you Mr. Rivers, if he truly called Dr. Gellar, did so without my consent. I’ll get to the bottom of the matter.”
“There is reason to believe Rivers knew the killer,” Hensel says, whispering up at Ellsworth. “As someone of your position can appreciate, we need to guard this information closely. If the media learns a murderer is in league with the Full Moon Killer, we’ll have a full blown panic on our hands.”
Shrewd move, Darcy thinks. Make Ellsworth feel like he’s part of the inner circle and stroke his ego.
“Well, that is quite troubling, and you can be certain I’ll keep the information to myself. But if you’d like one of my guards to…influence Mr. Rivers to talk to you—”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”
“Please do, Agent. No doubt you wish to complete the interview and be on your way, so I won’t waste your time. But I warn you. Mr. Rivers hasn’t spoken a word since his incarceration. I fear you’ve come a long way for nothing.”
“Let’s hope for all our sakes Mr. Rivers speaks to us. Is he in the interview room?”