“Your knowledge of serial killers is impressive,” Harv said.
“At the risk of sounding morbid, they’re often most interesting and challenging cases, but they’re also extremely rare.” Salk looked at Grangeland, then back to Harv. “The FBI uses the information medical examiners discover to help formulate profiles of serials. I had my assistant do a database search and there aren’t any cases like this in our system, even for as long as we’ve kept records.” Salk looked at Grangeland. “Even your FBI has nothing like this in its ViCAP national database. We seem to have a unique case here. A special agent from Quantico’s behavior analysis unit two is flying out here tomorrow to examine at the body.”
“Okay, thank you, Doctor,” Grangeland said. “I think we’ve taken enough of your time. I have a favor to ask.”
“Sure, name it.”
“Will you please keep our visit here confidential?”
Nathan had completely forgotten about that.
“If you folks don’t want anyone to know you were here, that’s fine with me. But I have a request of my own.” He turned toward Nathan, but addressed all of them. “It’s quite obvious that you know more about this case than you’re giving up. When you’re able, I’d appreciate you sharing it with me. Deal?”
“Deal.” Nathan stepped forward and pumped hands. “You don’t miss much.”
“I’ve been doing this a long time.” Dr. Salk looked down to Nathan’s chest, then back to his eyes.
Doesn’t miss much at all.
They arrived in San Diego after dark, fatigued from the flight. Holly had arranged a rental sedan for Grangeland’s use. Everyone parted company for the evening.
His Clairemont home felt welcoming as Nathan plopped down on his couch and thought about the day’s events, especially his close call at the medical examiner’s office. He hated being so vulnerable, especially in front of strangers and especially after all these years. Hadn’t he moved beyond this? He stood and began pacing, then picked up his TV remote and hurled it across the room. It smashed into the wall next to the front door and exploded.
Great job, Nate. Way to control your temper.
Even without Harv’s advice, he knew what he needed. He needed time with his giant schnauzers, Grant and Sherman. Besides, his La Jolla home was empty now. On his insistence-and dime-his live-in housekeeper had taken a much-needed vacation to Maui. Angelica would’ve left plenty of food for them, but they’d miss human companionship.
He grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter and avoided looking at the scattered pieces of plastic and computer chips littering his floor.
At that moment, his phone rang. Holly. He considered letting it go to voicemail.
“Hi, Holly.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You back home?”
“Yes.”
He sensed unease on the other end.
“Want to talk?”
“My TV remote lost an argument.”
“I’ve got tons of vacation time accumulated.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You aren’t asking.”
“I’m okay, really.”
“I’m still coming down there.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“You’re in no shape to fly anywhere. You’re exhausted. I can hear it in your voice. I booked a flight earlier this afternoon. I figured Salt Lake might be kinda rough. I’ll be arriving at Lindbergh tomorrow morning, just after eight. She gave him the info.
“Thanks, Holly.”
“Try to get some sleep.”
Chapter 17
He spotted Holly right away. Dressed in designer jeans and a blue silk shirt, she looked beautiful.
Holly waved and quickened her pace down the concourse.
What can she possibly she see in me?
Outside the security barrier they hugged. The female TSA guard smiled. Nathan wondered if she ever got tired of seeing such reunions.
She took his arm. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m okay.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Not much. I can’t get Montez out of my head. I keep thinking about Nichole Dalton and her daughters. Like a feedback loop, it keeps running again and again. I can’t turn it off.”
“I feel it too. When we get to your house, you’re getting eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
“Yeah, that’s sounds about right.”
“Do you have something you can take? Over-the-counter?”
“I’ll be okay.”
Holly insisted on paying the parking fee and drove onto North Harbor Drive, heading east toward I-5.
“So what now?” Holly asked.
“Exactly.” Nathan sighed. “What now? My next move is to call my father, as much as I’d prefer not to.”
“I thought you’d patched things up.”
“That’s not it.”
She waited.
“I’m worried Montez will catch wind of our pursuit and disappear forever, especially as more people get involved.”
“Do you really think that’s possible or even likely? Wouldn’t he need someone deeply embedded at a high level of government?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t put it past him. If he’s got such a source, the Dalton family is dead. He doesn’t leave loose ends.”
“That’s a terrible thought.”
“It kept me up most of the night, but my instincts are telling me he’s not finished yet.”
“You think he’s going after more people?”
“Yeah, I do. A lot more. Maybe we should take a closer look at Nichole Dalton’s past. Montez might be interested in someone she knows or has worked with. She’s got two daughters, but is she married? Divorced? Does she have a boyfriend? Who fathered her children?”
Holly fell silent for a moment. “It’s likely the San Diego PD has already made those types of inquiries. I wouldn’t be surprised if Henning has a copy of the police report. I’ll find out.”
He closed his eyes and rested his head.
“When we get to your house, you’re getting some sleep.”
Nathan crashed most of the day. He didn’t like losing the hours, but it couldn’t be helped. He still abided by his personal Marine Corps adage: Sleep when you can.
Now it was Holly’s turn. Curled into his shoulder, the darkness hid her face. She looked so unguarded and yet strong. Somehow this woman had slipped through his defenses. She felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. They’d talked for hours, sharing each other’s lives. Nathan had talked about his loneliness and quick temper. The nightmares. The anger and dark thoughts. The other. His need for privacy.
Holly had reciprocated and told him about her troubled childhood and high school years, her bout with drugs, and her tequila-shooting, can’t-remember-how-she-got-home days. She admitted to looking for love, but never finding it. It seemed they shared a few things in common.
They’d spent the day at his La Jolla home. She really loved its architecture and the collection of Civil War relics and weapons. She’d been especially taken by his dogs and vice versa. After dinner, they came over here, to his Clairemont home. She wanted to see where he spent the majority of his time. She liked this house too, said the modest scale and furnishings somehow fit him better, made him more-
The red LED on the security panel next to the front door began flashing.
Someone just tripped the motion detector in the rear yard.
The low whistle of the alarm coming from every room in his house confirmed it.
“Holly.” he whispered, giving her a firm shake.
She opened her eyes.
“We’ve got company. Someone’s in the rear yard.” Nathan put a forefinger over his lips.
She needed no other prodding. Within seconds, they were both in the bedroom, where he punched a sequence of numbers into a small gun safe on his nightstand. Holly put a hand on his back as the metal hatch silently popped open, revealing his Sig 9-millimeter. He retrieved the weapon, suppressor, and two subsonic round magazines before grabbing his night vision scope from the nightstand drawer.