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They’d obviously reached the end of his useful information. Reese was beginning to believe the CNA had quite the imagination, but she was working on exorcising her ghosts, not embracing new ones.
“Better than decent coffee.”Deputy Enrico Mendes took a drink from the cup Hayes set in front of him, his brows raised with approval. “Probably will need this later. Long, shitty day ahead. Got a call an hour ago from LAPD’s Harbor Division. A forty-foot Fleming 85 was torched about two in the morning. Police contacted the owners, and when they couldn’t reach them, tracked down the couple’s adult children. They claimed their parents had been on the boat for a few days, staying below and going out to cruise during the day.”
Nerves bounced in Hayes’s gut. “No sign of them since?”
The marshal shook his head slowly. “Not yet.” He set his mug down. “Guess you know what I’m going to ask.”
“If it could be Thorne.” After that news, Hayes needed a jolt of caffeine himself. “If he killed Pollack Monday night, could he strike again the next night a couple of hours away?”
“Based on his background as the Trifecta Killer.” Mendes’s dark gaze was sober. “Is it likely? Or are we seeing boogeymen wherever there’s smoke?”
“Smoke and missing people.” Hayes took a couple of sips, considering. “It’d be a swift turnaround, but yeah, Thorne struck fast a few other times. His nickname doesn’t refer to the victim number, but to the fact he hits three times in one state before moving on. He might leave three bodies behind in each state, or it could be double that. More. And while he’d hit in quick succession, he’d travel to different towns for each set of homicides. Sometimes there were days between the instate murders. I think the longest he waited was eight. But yeah. Twice he made all his kills in a week’s time. Then he’d move onto another state, and it could be two or three weeks before he was heard from again.”
“Well, fuck.” The man scrubbed a hand along his jaw. Shadows were smeared beneath his eyes, and his mustache looked droopier than usual. “Not the answer I was hoping for. We’re pulling traffic camera images between here and there. Maybe we’ll find something that gives us a clue where to look more closely.”
Hayes lifted his mug to drink. “I’d think they’d have cameras at the harbor.”
“They do. But someone broke the ones where the victims’ boat was docked. Harbor Police are checking neighboring docks to see if they give good angles of the crime scene. Looks like the fire started in the couple’s stateroom, then spread to the rest of the space under deck. HP called fire and rescue, but most of the boat and the neighboring dock are unsalvageable. The slip beside it was empty, but the flames damaged a boat on the other side.” His shoulders bounced. “Maybe the ME will come up with something. At Pollack’s autopsy, he showed me where the victim had recently suffered multiple head traumas, but there was smoke in his lungs.”
Hayes winced. “So Pollack was still alive when the fire started.” He couldn’t think of a more gruesome death. “If these homicides this week do turn out to be Thorne’s doing, he’ll strike one more time before leaving the state.”
Mendes studied him soberly. “And I think we know where.”
Nodding grimly, Hayes said, “I’m sticking close to Reese.” Maybe he’d wait until Mendes had more information about the San Pedro murders before informing her. She’d had one jolt after another recently. She was holding up, but everyone had a breaking point.
“From the messages you left, it sounds like you’ve both been busy. What about the name on the contract for the GPS deviceon Reese’s aunt’s vehicle? You really think the owner of the tracker is linked to Thorne?”
“He was in prison when it was placed. All we have are the same initials from the name on the geolocation tracker as he used on his fake IDs eighteen months ago. Nothing definitive.”
“So, for now, we sit on those details.” Mendes glanced at the time on his cell and drained his mug. “Keeping things inhouse with the task force is a constant struggle. I’d hate to read in anyone else unless we’re certain Thorne is involved. That could change if new facts emerge.”
“I figured.”
Mendes’s brows drew together. “And what was that about someone Reese talking to getting murdered yesterday with a bottle of liquor she supposedly sent?”
Hayes filled in the rest of the information about Greenley, but it didn’t ease the deputy’s expression.
“You’ve got your hands full. Sounds like Thorne isn’t the only one who has Reese in his sights. If you ask me, she’d be better off if you stashed her somewhere outside the city and wait for us to catch Thorne again.”
“It might come to that,” Hayes said noncommittally. He already knew he’d have to drag Reese kicking and screaming out of the city. But if Thorne wasn’t captured soon, the choice may be taken out of her hands.
He saw the deputy out, and resecured the locks and sensors on the doors. He crossed to the bedroom she was using and listened. Silence. She probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Hayes went to the kitchen and spent twenty minutes making breakfast sandwiches. He ate two before glancing toward her bedroom again. Retracing his steps, he knocked on her door. “Reese. I’ve got the breakfast of champions waiting for you.” Getting no response, he rapped louder and raised his voice. “Time to eat.”
He heard nothing, so he turned the knob and peeked in. Her bed was empty. The door to the attached bathroom stood open. Frowning, Hayes walked in. “Reese!” It took only seconds to ascertain that she wasn’t there. And she sure as hell hadn’t been anywhere else in the apartment.
Concern surged. He walked to the table placed against the wall inside the apartment door. Her purse was missing. So were the keys to her vehicle. Son of a bitch. Frustrated, he slammed a fist against the wall. How the hell had she manage to sneak out without alerting him?
His eyes slid closed as realization hit. He hadn’t reset the sensor and alarm until he’d seen Mendes out. Some fucking bodyguard he was. But he hadn’t expected this from her. Not now. Which meant his instincts were dogshit. He strode the kitchen for his cell and pressed in her number. Then waited, irritated, while it rang until her voicemail came on. “Call me. Now.”
Hayes hung up and checked the Life360 app. A blue cursor blinked, indicating her location.
He went in and strapped on his weapon before shrugging into his jacket. Then he dropped his phone in one pocket and scooped up the keys to Julia’s Equinox. His fingers were on the doorknob before a thought occurred and he went back to grab his laptop. Fit it in his backpack.
Shrugging into it, he left the apartment.
For Reese’s sake, he hoped the drive was long enough to calm him. Because right now, he was fighting a strong inclination to throttle her.
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