“What about the other three numbers?”
Reade waved a printout. “As far as we can tell, they’re throwaway phones with no names registered to them. Two of them are registered with the same mobile network as the prison phone, and our warrant was broad enough that the company also gave us information on those. The only time those two phones were ever used was to receive calls from the prison. We’re still tracking down the carrier for the third throwaway phone.”
Lynch nodded. “That’s it. One or all three of those has to be Myatt’s.”
Kendra was quickly studying the report that Griffin was still holding. “Where were those two phones? Does the report tell you that?”
“Yes,” Reade said. “Both here in San Diego County. One pinged a tower north of the city, another one due east.”
Kendra nodded. “What about the timing of the calls? Do they line up with the homicides?”
Reade shook her head. “I was just working that out when you came in, but it doesn’t look like it. The calls almost always came a day or two later.”
“Assuming that the local-call recipients don’t lawyer up or otherwise refuse to come in, we’ll conduct their questioning in the interview rooms upstairs,” Griffin said. “The two of you will be able to observe and send in questions, if you have any.”
“Good,” Lynch said. “You can bet there will be questions.”
“Welcome back, Kendra.” Metcalf had emerged from a crowd of agents with a small stack of color printouts. He smiled and gestured toward the busy war room behind him. “Look at all the overtime your observations are costing the U.S. taxpayer. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
“I’ll be happy when we catch this guy.”
“Speaking of which…” Metcalf spread the photo printouts on the table. “Here are photos of the six people we’ve identified as having received calls from Colby’s prison phone. Five men and one woman. Are any of the men a match for the guy you saw at Corrine Harvey’s house the other night?” He watched as she grabbed the printouts and scanned them at lightning speed. “Take your time and—”
“No.” Disappointment sharpened her voice. “It’s none of them.”
“Okay, I’m glad you took your time.”
She shrugged. “No sense in wasting your time or mine. These aren’t him.” She turned to Griffin. “I was hoping … but evidently it’s not going to be that easy. But we’ll get there. And I’m very interested in seeing their interviews. When do we start?”
* * *
MUCH OF THE INITIAL enthusiasm—and staffing level—had evaporated by the time the last local interview was completed at 10:16 P.M. All of the local-call recipients were indeed journalists of some sort, with whom Colby had shared disgusting details of his crimes that he presumably didn’t want recorded by the prison on their internal phone system. Kendra joined the other agents in listening to the interviews conducted in Chicago and New York. Two of those were also journalists, and the third was a woman in Manhattan who had actually pitched Colby on the idea of a Broadway stage musical based on his life and crimes. Kendra sat in horrified amazement as they listened to excerpts of several songs the woman had written for the endeavor.
Griffin nodded to the assistant, who cut the connection with the New York FBI office.
“My God,” Metcalf said. “We really have to find a reason to arrest that woman. Agreed?”
Kendra nodded, sick. “Absolutely terrifying.”
“Obviously, we’ll check out all of them,” Griffin said. “But right now our focus should move to those disposable phones.”
Reade looked down at her printout. “Assuming at least one of these belongs to Myatt, he may have already tossed it and moved on to another one.”
“It’s possible,” Griffin said. “And if it hasn’t happened yet, it could happen at any time. We need to work fast.”
Lynch leaned forward. “A coordinated ping?”
Griffin nodded. “Tomorrow morning. 10:30 A.M.”
“Good idea.”
Kendra frowned as she looked first at Lynch, then at Griffin. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Lynch turned toward her. “A coordinated ping. One way or another, we’re going to force those phones to ping their local towers. Sometimes, the wireless carrier can do it with a remote command, but these burner phones are often so simple that we may have to do it the old-fashioned way: picking up the phone and calling them. If the phones have power, we can narrow them down to a limited area.”
“I’ll have response teams standing by,” Griffin said. “Once we get a fix on the signal, they’ll swarm over the area and put up roadblocks, go door-to-door and do whatever we need to try and find whoever’s using that phone.”
“Can you really narrow down the area that much?” Kendra asked.
“It depends,” Griffin said. “But if it’s hitting two or even three towers, we can get very close. If Myatt is using one of those phones to stay in touch with Colby, we’ll find him. If he’s discarded it, we may still have a place of contact to start searching.”
“Don’t say that.” Kendra got to her feet. “I’m going to believe that we’ll find him. We’re coming so near to getting him.” She could feel a flush heat her cheeks as she stared fiercely at the agents at the table. “Your coordinated ping is going to pay dividends. I know it.” She turned toward the door. “Come on, Lynch. Let’s get out of here. We can’t do anything until tomorrow, and Griffin is beginning to depress me.”
“Heaven forbid,” he murmured as he followed her from the room. “And this case is so bright and cheery.”
* * *
“WE’RE CLOSE,” KENDRA SAID as she preceded Lynch into the living room. “For the first time, I feel as if I’m not up against a blank wall. We’re getting close to that bastard, Lynch. I feel it.”
“There’s hope, at least.” Lynch shut the door. “But I’m surprised you’re so optimistic. You’re usually so pragmatic.”
“Pragmatic is boring. I want to be giddy. I want to believe that everything will come up roses. I want to catch Myatt and put him away for the rest of his life. I want Olivia and Mom to be able to come home.” She came forward to stare up at the giant photo of Ashley. “I bet you understand, Ashley. You look like a woman who looks on the bright side. Of course, it could be that bikini you’re wearing. But you need to talk to Lynch about his attitude.”
“I usually keep her too busy to discuss my character flaws. Of course, I don’t have that many.” He went to the mahogany bar against the wall. “Would you like a drink?”
She nodded. “Red wine.”
“Right.” A few minutes later, he crossed the room and handed her the glass. “Enjoy.”
“I will.” She sipped the wine. “It’s excellent. I believe I’m beginning to appreciate your good taste.”
“Don’t. I’m only a peasant who likes his beer and hard liquor. So I have an expert keep an eye out for good vintages and send them to me.” He glanced down at his glass of beer. “For the pleasure of my guests.”
“Ashley?”
“She likes vodka on the rocks.” He looked up at the photo. “Why do you keep talking about her?”
“She’s hard to ignore.” She lifted her glass in a toast to the woman in the poster. “To Ashley.”
His gaze never left Kendra’s face. “To Kendra. I like you giddy. I just wish it was for some reason other than Myatt.”
“Take what you get.” She took another sip of wine. “And you probably only want me giddy because you think I’ll be easier to manipulate. You have that—”
Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket.
She stiffened. “Griffin.”
“So much for giddy,” he murmured. “Crashing down to earth.”
“Maybe he’s found out something more about—” She punched the access button and turned up volume. “Griffin? What’s happening?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said hesitantly. “Believe me, I’m not insensitive to what you went through at the prison. You may think that I’ve been—”
“Stop stuttering.” She tensed. She didn’t like this. “Just tell me why you’re calling.”