Nick was frowning. “That remote control download. Can you tell when it was done?”
“Sure,” Brent said. “A few days after Thanksgiving.”
“Would Simon have to have been in the house to do the download?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know of any other way he could have independently done it.”
Troubled, Liz followed the thought. “Mr. and Mrs. Vartanian come here looking for their blackmailer and, presumably, Simon. At some point they find Simon, or he finds them, because they’re dead and buried in Simon’s graveyard. So then Simon goes back to Georgia and fixes his father’s PC for remote access, plants the travel brochures, and makes it look like they’ve gone on vacation. He even keeps paying their bills. Why?”
“He didn’t want anyone to know his parents were dead,” Jen said. “Arthur was a retired judge-somebody would have investigated.”
“And Daniel and Susannah would have gotten involved, which they did.” Nick looked at Vito. “He wanted to keep them away, because he wasn’t ready for them yet.”
“At least they know to be on alert,” Vito said. “Where are they now?”
“Back in Dutton,” Katherine said. “They went back for the exhumation.”
“So did you get the results?” Vito asked.
“Only that the body isn’t Simon’s. The bones are those of a five-foot-ten-inch man.”
“Wasn’t an autopsy done?” Liz asked and Katherine rolled her eyes.
“Mexican autopsy,” Katherine said. “That supposed car crash was in Tijuana. Vartanian’s father went down and got the death certificate, bought the casket, and brought it back through customs. Either he greased some palms or whoever peeked inside saw a horribly charred corpse and shut the coffin back up quick.”
“So he still might not have known whether Simon was really dead,” Jen said.
Katherine shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine Daniel and Susannah want to know, but at this point, I’m not sure how that helps us find Simon.”
“Did Pfeiffer or his receptionist come in to be printed?” Nick asked.
Jen shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Let us know when they do,” Vito said. “What else? What about churches in the quarry areas, Jen? Or the silicone lubricant manufacturer?”
“I’ve got a tech calling lube manufacturers and two techs mapping churches. Nothing yet. I was personally working Van Zandt’s car all day. Sorry, Vito. We’re doing our best.”
Vito sighed. “I know.” He thought of Sophie. “But we have to try harder.”
“Now that Van Zandt’s in jail,” Nick mused, “what if Simon decides to leave town? oRo’s going to fold. Simon doesn’t have a job anymore.”
“We need a way to make him stay,” Vito said. “To draw him out into the open.”
“He thinks he’s got Van Zandt fucked over a barrel.” Nick looked at Maggy Lopez. “What if Van Zandt were to get released?”
Maggy shook her head. “I can’t let just let him go. We charged him. He hasn’t agreed to the plea, and I’m not giving him immunity. He’s got to go through the system. Nick, I can’t believe you of all people want me to deal him down.”
“I don’t want to deal him down,” Nick said. “But I want him on the street, so we can follow him. You don’t have to let him go, exactly. His bond hearing is tomorrow morning, right?”
“So? Two hours ago you wanted to push the plunger on the lethal injection syringe yourself. Now you want me to put him on the streets. You want me to make him bait.”
“I don’t see a problem with it,” Nick said. “We keep close to him. Simon won’t be able to resist. It’ll be like we painted a big bull’s-eye on Jager’s ass.”
“More like an R,” Brent said dryly. “For riches.”
“And don’t forget the dead wood comment,” Vito added. “Van Zandt deserves whatever he gets, Maggy. But we won’t let Simon get him, because we want to see Van Zandt behind bars, too. If he knew about these murders and let it go on, he’s complicit.”
Maggy sighed. “If we lose him…”
“We won’t,” Nick promised. “All you have to do is ask for a teensy bail.”
“All right,” Maggy said. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“We won’t,” Vito promised, feeling a surge of energy. “Liz, can we get Bev and Tim back for a few more days? Maybe even just tomorrow? We need surveillance eyes.”
“I’ll arrange it,” Liz said. “But only for one day. We’ll have to reevaluate if this drags.”
“Fair enough.” Vito stood up. “Let’s meet early tomorrow and coordinate.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Friday, January 19, 7:00
P.M.
Sophie sank into the front seat of Vito’s truck. She’d pushed the fury aside, but with the day done, it started to churn anew. What more could Lena possibly take?
Vito started the engine and sat quietly as the heater began to warm the cab. He was waiting for her to say something, she knew. She also knew he’d had a bad day himself. His problems were a lot bigger than hers. He had a killer to catch.
Getting angry about a few missing vinyl records had kept her own mind off the fact that that same killer had been watching her, so maybe indirectly Lena had finally done something good. She rolled her head to look at him. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but what did you think of my Viking tour?”
His eyes shifted, heated, and his lips curved, making her pulse quicken. “I thought you made the sexiest Viking warrior I ever saw. I wanted to jump you right there.”
She laughed, as he’d meant her to. “In front of all those children? Shame on you.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “What’s wrong, Sophie?”
His tone was so gentle, her eyes stung. “Harry came by today.” She told him about the visit and watched his eyes harden.
“You should press charges.”
“You sound like Harry. I didn’t press charges when Lena killed my sister. Why would I press charges over her stealing a few old phonograph records?”
Vito shook his head. “Elle’s death was an accident. This theft wasn’t.”
Sophie’s chin came up. “Now you sound like Katherine.”
“Because Katherine was right. Sophie, Lena’s a terrible mother, but she didn’t mean to kill Elle. But this theft, this she meant to do. She planned it and she profited from it. If you’re going to hate her, hate her for the things she’s really done. Hating her for feeding nuts to a kid who she didn’t know was allergic is pointless.”
Sophie gaped at him. “Pointless?”
“And childish,” he added quietly. “Last night you said that Andrea made her choices, and you were right. Lena’s made her choices, too. Hold her accountable for those, for abandoning you and for stealing from your grandmother, Sophie, but not for killing Elle. That kind of hate is just wasted energy.”
Sophie felt angry tears building. “I can hate her for anything I want to hate her for, Vito, and it really isn’t any of your business, so just butt out.”
He flinched at that and looked away. “Okay.” He pulled his truck into the stream of traffic. “I guess that tells me where I stand.”
Guilt speared. “I’m sorry, Vito. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just disappointed that I don’t have any music to play for Gran, and I really wanted to see her happy again.”
“Just seeing your face makes her happy.” But he wouldn’t look at her, even though he’d stopped at a red light, and that made her panic.
“Vito, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you to butt out. I’m not used to worrying about what somebody else thinks about me. Someone whose opinion matters anyway.”
“It’s all right, Sophie.” But it wasn’t. She could see that. She wasn’t sure how to make it right, so she mentally backed away and approached from another direction.