“He’s taunting us?” Patrick suggested. “He doesn’t care that they’re found.”
“Maybe it’s convenience,” Nick said. “Or he has a personal connection to the places.”
“We know he’s been to the Sand Shack, which is less than a mile from where Angie was found.” Carina placed a green pin on the Shack. “And the library.” She put a pin at the library, right next to the blue and red pins where Becca was abducted and found. “Nick, what’s Kyle’s address?”
He read from the report. “45670 Rupert Street.”
She found it on the map, put a yellow pin there. “Burns lives smack dab in the middle.”
“There were no drugs in Angie’s system, which suggests that she trusted whoever kidnapped her. She didn’t make a fuss, she seemed to voluntarily leave her house,” Nick said.
“And Becca he physically subdued. She was petite, much easier to control than Angie,” Carina said. “Do you think we have enough to ask for a warrant?”
“On Burns? Nowhere near enough,” Patrick said.
“But it makes sense, right?” Carina frowned at the map.
“Logically it makes sense, but you’re making a lot of leaps in reasoning and filling in blanks with theories, not evidence. We need something solid to tie Burns to the crimes.”
Carina knew Patrick was right. “I can still get the tail. Watch him until we gather enough evidence. And tomorrow, when he’s home, maybe we can stop by for another talk. See if he lets us come in, take a look around.”
“If he lets you in, you’re good to go. What does Jim have right now?”
“Nothing yet, but he’s working on it,” Carina said.
They sat in silence, reviewing the logs, when Patrick suddenly exclaimed, “I have an idea!”
“Give it to me,” Carina said. “I’ll take anything at this point.”
“What if we set Scout up?”
“How?”
“He has an e-mail alert through the MyJournal system that let’s him know whenever certain Web pages are updated. One page is that Elizabeth Rimes I told you about. We send an e-mail ostensibly from her to Scout with a redirect to my account.”
“For what purpose?”
“To get him into a chat room. To keep him in one place until we can locate him. If he’s logged on as Scout, I can find him within an hour.”
“I like it. I really like it.”
“Thank you, sis. I aim to please.”
“How long to set it up?” Nick asked.
“A couple hours, maybe less. I want to make sure we protect Elizabeth Rimes, alert the Atlanta police to keep an eye on her. We know Scout is in San Diego, but on the off-chance that he slips through.”
“I agree. I don’t want to jeopardize a civilian.”
“And I need to set up the technical end. I’m going to ask Dillon to chat with him online-he’s good at pulling people into conversations and he’ll know what to say.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Patrick.”
“I’m going to get started on it,” Patrick said, standing. “Sorry to leave you with all this paperwork.”
“I live for paperwork,” she said sarcastically.
Carina and Nick ordered dinner in. The task force room looked like a war zone, and they had come to the conclusion that until forensics came up with evidence they could use, or Patrick got a hit on his trap, they had nowhere else to look.
Carina was about to call it quits for the night. It was Saturday and there was little they could do until they had something to work with.
Then Jim Gage rushed into the room. “Good, you’re still here.”
“Like I’m going anywhere in this lifetime,” Carina said. “What is it?”
He waved a paper around. “I got a hit.”
“DNA match?”
“Almost as good. I have a match to a relative.”
“Explain,” Carina said.
“Mitchell Joseph Burns.”
“Burns,” Carina said. “You matched DNA to this Mitchell Burns? Is he a relation to Kyle Burns?”
“I don’t know at this point.” Jim pulled out a chair and sat. “Nearly eight years ago Mitchell Burns raped a woman in West Los Angeles. He used a condom, but either there was a tear in it or he wasn’t careful. Semen was found around the toilet bowl in the woman’s apartment.”
“And it matched Mitchell Burns? Was he already in the system?”
“He’s a repeat offender. Served four years for two counts of forcible rape.”
“Is he still in prison?”
“No, I’m getting to that,” he said impatiently. “He served his time, then a series of rapes popped up in West LA. When the investigators ran the DNA from the vic’s toilet, it hit on Burns. They went to arrest him, but his wife said he walked out one day and never came home.
“Ironically, the same day he raped the West LA woman.”
Jim let that sink in before continuing. “So when I ran the DNA we extracted from Becca-”
“Wait,” Carina said, “I thought you said you didn’t have anything from Becca.”
“I should have told you, but I was swamped running DNA myself. I don’t have to tell you how shorthanded we are right now.”
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t an accusation-”
“No, I should have said something. Anyway, I found a hair with a follicle in one of the layers of plastic wrap. One hair, that’s it. There’s some other trace evidence-wool from a blanket, some cotton fibers-but this was the only DNA evidence. So I ran it against the database and it popped up Mitchell Burns. But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Another commonality to our current murders.”
“Glue?”
“No, but close. Burns gagged his victims with a black bandanna and tied them to the bedposts with white nylon rope.”
“White rope is common,” Nick said.
“But black bandannas aren’t,” Carina added. “So he broke into their house to rape them?” Carina wasn’t surprised. It was common, but her fear that no one was safe even in their own homes was deep-seated.
“Yes. Ground-level apartments in low-security buildings. He was a repeat offender, and had used the bandannas in his previous crimes as well.”
“Any particular reason?”
“None that was in the file.”
“But you said he’s not in prison.”
“He’s still missing. LAPD watched his house for a while, but he never returned.”
“Maybe he realized he’d made a mistake and ran,” Nick said.
“That was my thought.”
“Eight years is a long time to disappear,” Nick said. “Especially a wanted man and repeat offender.”
Carina wrapped her mind around the information Jim had given her. “So the DNA matched a known rapist who has been missing for eight years?”
“No,” Jim said. “Mitchell Burns didn’t rape our three victims. But a close relative did. A brother, first cousin, uncle, son.”
“Son.”
“He has two. According to the police reports, he had two minor sons at the time of his first arrest twelve years ago, twelve and five.”
“That would make them about twenty-four and seventeen,” Carina said. “Names?”
“They’re not in the record, but get this. Burns’s wife moved to San Diego six years ago.” Jim handed her another sheet of paper.
“Here’s the address of Regina Burns. She lives in University City.” University City was between downtown San Diego and La Jolla to the north.
Carina gathered the information and checked her weapon. “Who wants to take a bet that Kyle Burns is the rapist’s son?”
No one took the bet.
“Do you want backup?” Jim asked Carina.
“We’re just going to talk to Kyle Burns first, then Mitchell Burns’s wife,” Carina said. “If Regina Burns confirms what we think we know, we need to put twenty-four/seven surveillance on Kyle Burns and fight for a warrant.”
“It’s going to be next to impossible to get Kyle Burns in with what we have. No attorney will allow him to submit to a DNA test.”