“What does your gut tell you about Gordon Sells?”
Mendez rolled his shoulders, as if physically uncomfortable defending the Sells theory. “There’s definitely something wrong about the guy. But his record is as a pedophile. These victims are grown women.”
Leone nodded, satisfied. “And back to your dentist: Yes, anyone could have snatched the young lady in that alley. And anyone could have stashed her in that empty building. There’s a padlock on the door, but it doesn’t work. But if she was a specific target, then her abductor has to be someone who knew she had that appointment.”
Mendez thought about it. Karly Vickers on her way to the dentist, Farman pulls her over. Why is she going so fast, he asks her. She tells him she’s on her way to a dentist appointment… Obviously, Crane knew where she would be, and people from the center, and people from the hair salon…
Dixon came in then and briefed the group regarding Frank Farman’s necessary departure from the case. No one seemed to know what to say.
“He happened to make a traffic stop the day Karly Vickers disappeared,” Dixon said. “He filed the citation, in no way tried to conceal that, and the time noted was fifteen thirty-eight. More than an hour before Ms. Vickers went missing.”
“His kid was running around with a dead woman’s finger in his pocket,” Detective Hamilton said. “That’s fucking screwed up.”
“The boy has some behavioral issues,” Dixon conceded.
“Deputy Farman has been put on administrative duty until further notice. Meanwhile, we have a legitimate suspect. Let’s concentrate on Gordon Sells.”
“Has the search of his property turned up anything yet?” Mendez asked.
“So far, nothing to connect him directly to any of the victims.” Dixon said. “The trailer is a hazardous waste dump of biological material. It’ll take months to process the samples.”
“He hasn’t said anything to incriminate himself,” Mendez said. “He’s uncooperative, to say the least.”
“How long did you interview him last night?” Vince asked.
“Six hours. Hicks and I took turns.”
“And he hasn’t asked for an attorney?”
“No,” Hicks said. “He doesn’t trust public defenders. He claims the last one he had sold him down the river.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Vince said. “He’s a pedophile. How any decent person can defend a turd like that is beyond me.”
“What decent person?” Detective Trammell asked. “I thought we were talking about lawyers.”
They all got a laugh out of that. Nothing like slamming lawyers to lighten the mood for a bunch of cops.
“He did time,” Vince said. “What was the charge?”
“He was accused of abusing three different twelve-year-old girls, but only one case went to trial. Sells pled out on lewd acts on a minor and possession of child pornography,” Mendez said. “The deal was for eight-to-twelve. He did every day of it. The mother of the victim came to every parole hearing.”
“Was he violent?” Leone asked. “Did he use a weapon?”
“Each time he threatened his victim with a knife.”
“No actual rape?”
“Oral sex was his thing, but he’s had twelve years to sit and think about it.”
“Twelve years of taking it up the ass from every bubba in the joint probably,” Trammell said. “That’s a lot of motivation for revenge against women.”
“That’s true,” Vince said. “But guys like Sells don’t usually change targets. He was locked in on twelve-year-old girls long before he got put away-probably since his teens. His sexual attraction is to pubescent girls he can easily manipulate and intimidate. Molesting children is generally an unsophisticated crime.”
“You don’t think he’s our guy?” Dixon said, annoyed.
“From what you’ve told me, he doesn’t fit the profile. I think you’re looking for a white male in his midthirties, educated, intelligent, methodical. I think he holds a position of respect or authority, or these women knew him personally. So far it looks like the victims just vanished, no commotion, no witnesses. That suggests they went with him willingly. They didn’t think he posed a threat.”
“Or he incapacitated them quickly and efficiently,” Dixon countered. “He stalked them to a secluded location and grabbed them. No witnesses.”
“That’s possible,” Vince conceded. “But with the way he staged Lisa Warwick’s body in the woods, this killer is looking for attention. He wants an audience. He wants credit for his work. He’s got an ego. He’s liable to try to insinuate himself into the search for Karly Vickers, attend the funeral of Lisa Warwick. That kind of involvement will be part of the power trip for him.
“With the exception of the missing finger, everything about the Warwick dump site was neat and tidy. The cutting wounds on the body were laid out in a specific pattern. Your victim number one-Paulson-had similar deliberate marks on the body. But you’re telling me Gordon Sells isn’t organized in any way. He lives in a hovel, out in the country, away from people, not attracting attention.”
“He had both women’s cars in his possession,” Dixon said.
He looked like he was feeling persecuted, Mendez thought. No doubt he was as exhausted as everyone else, maybe more so considering his personal connection to Jane Thomas. She had to be hammering on him to solve the case. Mendez could see Leone taking the same reading on his boss.
Vince held his hands up. “Hey, Sheriff, I appreciate your position here. You’re under a lot of pressure, and you’ve got a bird in the hand with Sells. But it’s not my job to agree with you. I’m no help as a yes man.
“I’m telling you what I know based on my experiences,” he said. “That doesn’t mean this guy couldn’t be the exception to the rule. I’m just telling you what I know. You’ve got him with the cars. Hold him. But I would strongly advise you to continue to develop other possible suspects.”
Dixon sighed and nodded and rubbed his hands over his face. “Does anybody else have anything?”
“Lisa Warwick’s vacation plans didn’t turn up anything,” Hamilton said. “But her phone records show a lot of calls to the law offices of Quinn, Morgan and Associates. Two calls the day she disappeared.”
“She volunteered as a court advocate to women from the center,” Mendez said. “Morgan handles most of the family court cases. I think she might have had a thing for him. He’s tougher to read. I haven’t spoken to his wife yet.”
“Steve Morgan is as straight an arrow as they come,” Dixon said.
“He’s the guy in the photograph?” Trammell asked.
“Yeah,” Mendez said.
“I finally talked to the next-door neighbor last night,” Trammell went on. “Nosey old bat. She said she saw a man coming and going from Lisa Warwick’s house from time to time at odd hours, late at night. She-the neighbor-is up at odd hours on account of her sciatica, she told me. I showed her the photo. She couldn’t swear he was the guy, because it was always dark, but she thought it could be. Right height, right build.”
“When was the last time she saw him?” Mendez asked.
“She wasn’t sure-I think she drinks for that sciatica-but she thought it was maybe the night before Warwick went missing.”
Dixon swore under his breath. “Tony, talk to Morgan again.”
“We’ve got the maintenance man from the Thomas Center in,” Hicks said. “He denies any connection to the stolen cars or to the women, but Miss Vickers’s friend told us he had his eye on Karly and she didn’t like it.”
“He did five in Wasco for stealing cars-”
“That’s where Gordon Sells was,” Mendez said.
“Lyle claims he didn’t know Sells there, but he has been to Sells’s junkyard.”
“And Lyle had charges on him for abusing a girlfriend?” Dixon asked.
“Six months’ worth.”