“That it?”
“If you’re asking me to profile the offender, you know I can’t do it yet—not accurately. There’s only one vic.”
“But there are behaviors here,” Bledsoe said, craning his neck around.
Vail sighed. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do this. She wanted to be putting the pieces of Robby’s puzzle together, seeing if she’d missed something. She pulled herself up, took a deep breath, and cleared her thoughts. Tried to. She couldn’t. “Look, I’ve got an appointment I have to get to. I really didn’t want this case. Each minute that ticks by . . . ”
“I know. But anything you can give me would help.”
Vail checked her watch. “I think he’ll kill again. This may not be his first kill. No defensive wounds on a big guy like Rayshawn Shines? Your UNSUB knows what he’s doing. You can’t do this and hesitate or you’ll end up dead yourself. So he exhibited very high levels of confidence. He probably looks at this kill as an accomplishment. He did this, he can do anything. Unless this was a personal gripe, this killer enjoyed what he did. The garrote is an up close and personal kill. He enjoyed overpowering a big football star.”
Bledsoe absorbed all this, then said again, “That it?”
“Until this guy kills again, there’s probably not much else I can help you with.” She held up an index finger. “Not true. If I can clear my head long enough to concentrate on this, I’ll be able to give you more. Meantime, if you put together a list of suspects, I’ll help narrow it down. And I can help map out an effective interview approach.”
Bledsoe looked down at the blood-soaked carpet. “Okay.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but the more vics he leaves in his wake, the easier our job will be catching him.”
“Yeah—not very comforting.”
“It is what it is.” Vail held up the manila envelope. “Here you go.”
Bledsoe waved a meaty hand. “Those are yours.”
“Oh, goodie. I’ll put them in my photo album as soon as I get home. You know, the fancy leather one on my coffee table.”
“Now there’s the Karen Vail I know and love.”
“The Karen Vail you know and love is officially on leave.”
“DeSantos will come through,” Bledsoe said. “I just got a feeling.”
Vail twisted her arm and stole another look at her watch. “Gotta run. Doctor’s appointment.”
“Everything okay?”
“Bumps and bruises, but nothing that won’t heal. This is for my mind. Mandatory.”
“The shrink has to see a shrink. Ain’t that a kick.”
“You’re being an asshole, Bledsoe. Don’t ruin my opinion of you.” She turned and headed out of the fitness room.
40
Vail had a hell of a time finding a parking spot on M Street, but finally walked into the tiered, gray marble-tiled lobby. She took the elevator up and entered the small, warmly lit waiting room of Leonard Rudnick, PhD. Well-maintained Persian rugs were arranged atop satin-finished mahogany floors.
Vail had just sunk into the seat when the office door opened. Standing there was a gaunt older man who barely broke five feet.
“Ah, Karen. Good to see you’re back. I’ve been meaning to remind you that I’ve got a special entrance for agents.” Rudnick thumbed an area over his shoulder. “It’s around—”
“Why do I need a special entrance?”
Rudnick broadened his face into a forced grin, as if summoning patience for a petulant child. “Many agents I’ve treated over the years have preferred not to be seen entering a psychologist’s office.”
“I deal with the mind all day, doc. I’m not afraid to admit I have to see someone to get mine straightened out.”
“But your ASAC sent you here. It wasn’t a voluntary act.”
“I was in denial. But Robby sat me down and we had a heart to heart. My boss was right in sending me here. Believe me, if I thought he was wrong—”
“You wouldn’t have come?”
Vail let a smile tease her lips. “Something like that.”
“Come,” Rudnick said, motioning her in with both hands, a hyper-welcoming gesture. “Let’s start.”
Vail sat down in a firmly upholstered seat opposite an identical counterpart a few feet from her.
“So,” Rudnick said, patting his thighs. “Tell me. How’s the anger management going?”
Why’d he have to start with that? How do I begin to answer? Should I tell him about my interactions with Scott Fuller—where I held my tongue but ended up in a fistfight—or about my confrontation with César Guevara, where I rammed my Glock into his forehead? Tough choice.
“You’re hesitating. Does that mean it’s been a mixed result?”
Vail grinned. “I couldn’t have put it better.”
“Well, then. That’s okay, Karen. It’s a work in progress. You at least have seen some improvement, hmm?”
“Definitely. I find I’m able to hold my thoughts without them spilling out. I’m getting better at filtering the sharp retorts. Except when it comes to my boss. I can’t help myself.”
Rudnick’s brow rose about a foot. “You—you talk back to Mr. Gifford?”
Vail waved a hand. “All the time.”
Rudnick nodded slowly but did not respond to that. “Yes. Well. Let me ask you—”
“It’s not a big deal. I just—you know how it is with some people. You’ve got a different way of relating to them. Some people you can joke around with, others you can’t. My boss, I can give him some abuse. I can usually tell when I push him too far.”
“So this is humor? You poke fun at him?”
“I guess there are times when I do that. Mostly it’s sarcasm.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
Vail shrugged both shoulders, a slow, demonstrative movement. “I’m still gainfully employed as a supervisory special agent. But—honestly, that’s the least of his issues with me. He probably figures it’s best to choose which battles to fight.”
Rudnick chewed the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t pronounced, but Vail could see his jaw moving, and a slight concavity in the skin.
“I’m scaring you, aren’t I?” Vail asked.
“Scaring?” He laughed. A short burst. “Not the word I would choose, no. But you are . . . concerning me. Respect for a superior is a basic tenet of an organizational structure. Surely you have a feel for that. So when you purposely abuse your ASAC, it tells me there’s more going on beneath the surface. Would you agree?” Rudnick tilted his head, sliding his chin slightly to his right.
Vail checked her watch. She couldn’t help it. Robby was on her mind—no surprise there—and she needed to get back to his case.
“Someplace you’d rather be?”
Vail looked up. “Hmm?”
“Checking your watch. It tells me—”
“Yes. You want me to be honest with you, so I’ll tell you what’s going on. Robby went missing. While I was in Napa—”
“During your vacation?”
“Yeah, well, things didn’t really work out the way we’d planned.” She sighed, rubbed hard at her left eye. Do I have to go through this again?P
“Did you and Robby have a . . . disagreement? Does that explain those bruises on your face?”
Vail sat up in her chair. “No, no. Nothing like that.” She took him through the events of the past ten days, realizing it was going to eat up a good portion of the remaining appointment time.