Fisher rolled over and rose from his cot, putting down his drawing materials and walking over to face Tim through the iron bars.
What do you have for me? he askeda demand, not a question.
The Stevens girls file is being dug up from the Twenty-sixth Precincts cold cases and sent to Forensic Instincts, Tim reported in a low tone. It might take a little time, since the crime happened fifteen years ago. In the meantime, Casey Woods talked to Olson again last night. From what Im hearing, shes definitely looking for some kind of connection between the past and the present.
Good. Thatll keep her busy. What about the cops?
Tim shook his head. Theres no buzz at the Twenty-sixth Precinct about any connections to recent crimes. The same goes for the Ninth, he added, referring to the precinct that had jurisdiction over Tompkins Squarethe district where Fisher had been set up and arrested.
So Casey Woods is spinning her wheels. Fisher shrugged. Just as well. Itll kill time. And make things interesting...
He didnt elaborate. And Tim didnt ask.
Fisher continued to study him with that lethal stare. I hear that things are going well for you. If that Lacy of yours keeps scoring goals like she did at last nights soccer game, you can spend my money on a nice vacation for you and the missus, because you wont need it for college. And Sarah? Between her GPA and that gorgeous red hair I keep hearing about, shes got an equally bright future. Incredible daughters youve got. Pretty, too. You should be very proudand very careful. Its a scary world out there.
Tims fingers curled so tightly around the cell bars that his knuckles turned white. He wished he could choke the life out of Fisher.
Calm down, Fisher said, his lips curving a bit at Tims reaction. You already have high blood pressure. You dont want to make it worse. Besides, not to worry. Youre doing your job. Ive already arranged to have a payment wired to your bank account tomorrow. A long, drawn-out pause. But were just getting started. I want you to keep on this every waking minute.
Tim said nothing. He just turned and walked away.
He might be protecting his family.
But he had a sick feeling that he was digging himself an early grave.
Chapter Four
Daniel Olsons house was a typical home in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn. A two-story Cape Cod on a quiet side street, it sat on a small parcel of land between two similar houses, and had a tiny front lawn and a stone pavement leading to the front door.
Olson opened the door himself when Casey, Claire and Hero arrived, along with a tote bag and their STU-100or canine vacuum, as Ryan called itfrom which Casey would make scent pads for Hero. Casey introduced Claire and then Hero, both of whom Mr. Olson had expected.
Claire shook the older mans hand, almost wincing with pain upon contact. Casey had described his condition to the whole FI team. Still, Claire could feel death emanate from every pore of his body. She also felt a wave of bleakness when she looked at him. It didnt take a psychic to know that the man had very little time left. He was frail and wan, with deep, dark circles under his eyes. But the sadness in those eyes had nothing to do with death, which Claire sensed hed made peace with. It had everything to do with finding closure with regard to his daughter.
Come in, he invited them, stepping aside so they could cross the threshold into the foyer. Can I offer you anything? Maybe some water for your dog?
Nothing, thank you. Casey spoke up for the three of them. The last thing they wanted was for this poor ill man to wait on them. As I told you last night, we just want to see Jans room, physically handle anything of hers that had special meaning and make scent pads for Hero. Well stay only as long as necessary.
Olson picked up on the compassion in Caseys voice and gave a slight shake of his head. I appreciate your consideration. But please, take your time. Anything that can help you, any opportunity you see that can aid you in finding out what happened to Janplease take it. Quite frankly, you truly are my last hope.
Well do everything we can. Casey could already feel the knot in her stomach tightening. She wanted to dash upstairs and uncover their answers in one fell swoop. It wasnt going to happen. She had to be patient. But she wasnt going to fail, either. She was going to give this man the closure he needed, and maybe find that same closure for herself.
They all filed upstairs. Mr. Olson led them to the bedroom on the left side of the corridor that belonged to Jan, gesturing for them to go in. He himself hesitated in the doorway, glancing from Claire to Casey.
I dont know how this works, he confessed. Is it better if I leave you to your own devices? Or is it better if I stay? Whatever Ms. Hedgleighs process is, I dont want to interfere.
Claire gave him that gentle smile of hers. Please stay, she said. I might have questions for you. If Im drawn to a particular object, I want you to tell me about iteverything you remember about its place in Jans life. Youre her father. You helped raise her. Youd be surprised how helpful your input can be.
The older man sighed. I wish Jans mother was still alive. Shed remember far more than I do. She was a traditional housewife. She believed in staying home during Jans younger years. She was so much more familiar with the details of her life than I am.
Jan is an only child? Claire asked, careful to use the present tense. There was no point in upsetting Mr. Olson, not until they had concrete proof that Jan was dead.
He nodded. We wanted more children. But it wasnt meant to be.
Casey gazed at the room as Claire made her way slowly around. It was the bedroom of an average teenage girlwhite furniture, peacock blue walls, a matching comforter and curtains and possessions that ranged from the eye shadow and lip gloss of a young adult to the figurines and stuffed animals of a young girl.
When did Jan last redecorate? Casey asked.
In high school, her father replied. The furniture hasnt changed, just the arrangement of the pieces. She painted the walls and picked out the matching bed and window coverings. But she kept her favorite things from childhood.
Is this one of them? Claire was holding a childs jewelry box, which, when opened, displayed a little spinning ballerina.
Olson nodded. That was a gift from her grandparents. She got it when she was six. The jewelry that went inside it changed over the years, but the box itself stayed the same, right down to its position on her dresser.
Claire was only half listening. She wore a look of intense concentration. Happy memories, she murmured. Lots of warm, positive energy. She fingered a few of the pieces insidea slim bangle bracelet, a silver chain necklace, a pair of gold stud earringsthen placed the box back on the dresser and turned to squat beside a book bag. When did she get this? she asked, letting her fingertips brush the dark maroon canvas.
Mr. Olsons expression clouded. Right before she left for college. Her mother and I used to tease her that it weighed more than she did because of the number of books she dragged around.
How did it get to your house? Casey asked at once. Did Jan leave it here on her last trip home, or was it returned to you after she disappeared?
The latter. He swallowed. Columbia returned it to us when they cleaned out her dorm room. He gestured at the book bag. Feel free to look inside. Lord only knows that I have, dozens of times. Textbooks, notebooks and her calendar are all youll find. I searched every nook and cranny.
A calendar? Casey jumped on that one. You didnt mention that in our last conversation. And it wasnt in the material you brought me.
Olson sighed. Like I said, I pored over it time after time. Theres nothing in there but assignments that were due. No names, no specific dates, nothing. I saw no purpose in bringing it. If you feel otherwise, if you think I might have missed something, its yours to review.
Casey nodded. She was watching Claire as she unzipped the book bag and searched the contents. She recognized the expression on Claires face. And it didnt mean anything good.
Well take it with us, Casey responded. Plus whatever else Claire zeroes in on.
Claire raised her head. Do you have any other items that were returned to you by the university? she asked.
Jans clothes. Her books. Anything she left at the school. Mr. Olson spoke painfully. Im not a material person. When Jan didnt come home for a year, I donated most of her clothes to our church, thinking she could buy new ones when she returned. But if youre looking for whatevers left of her wardrobe, it would be hanging in her closet. He pointed to the double sliding pocket doors.
Claire opened them and studied a few articles of clothing, reaching for an occasional sleeve or collar. After a time, and in a deliberate manner, she squatted, picking up a pair of well-worn running shoes. She wore these a lot. And not just to get around campus. She was an athletic girl.
Yes, Mr. Olson said. She played on several teams in high school. Im not sure how many of them she continued on with at Columbia. Her workload was steep. But, yes, she wore those running shoes constantly. They were too beaten up to donate to charity.
I see, Claire murmured. And she was clearly seeing a lot more than just the objects themselves. She didnt comment aloud, just turned the running shoes over in her hands and studied the soles. Then she glanced back at the book bag. Her fingertips skimmed Jans belongings in a tentative, searching manner. Finally, she stopped. Still clutching the running shoes and book bag, she rose. May I take these with me?
Of course, Mr. Olson said. Why? Do you sense something from them?
Im not sure yet. Claire was hedging. Mr. Olson didnt see it. But Casey did. Claire was picking up something specificand negativefrom those particular objects.
Id also like to take the jewelry box. Its energy is so positive, its an ideal means of comparison. There was clearly more to that than Claire was saying. But, again, Casey remained silent. She waited for Mr. Olsons nod, and watched Claire add the jewelry box to her growing collection of Jans possessions. What about the rest of Jans textbooks and notebooks? Whatever she wasnt carrying around?
Mr. Olson pointed at a cardboard box that was nestled in the corner of the closet. Anything like that would be in there. Youre welcome to go through it.
Id like to take it with me, Claire said. I want to sit quietly by myself and go through all the contents of the box as slowly and thoroughly as possible. Rushing the process would be a mistake. I need to get as strong an awareness of Jan as possible.
Fine. Mr. Olson waved his arm. Take it. As I said, take anything that might help you find my daughteror what happened to her.
Casey sensed that Claire had finished her work here. She glanced down at Hero, whod been sniffing the carpet this whole time.
Besides the things were taking with us, would you mind giving me a few more items right now? Things you remember Jan having in her possession as close to her disappearance as possible? Before we take off, Id like to make scent pads for Hero.
Of course. Daniel Olson walked immediately over to the bed. He picked up a stuffed bear and a throw pillow. Jan had these from when she was a child. She never went anywhere without them. She kept them on her bed at home and then at school.
Perfect. Casey unzipped her tote bag, which contained gauze pads, jars, tongs and latex gloves.
She had this routine down to a science. Shed pull on the latex gloves, set the gauze in place and put Jans personal articles on them. Then shed use the STU-100 to vacuum the articles for thirty seconds. The gauze would collect the necessary scents, after which shed deposit them in the jar, storing Jans scent for Heros future use.
She wasnt worried about the items they were taking with them. She could make scent pads for those back at the office. They would be the objects most likely connected to Jans disappearance, maybe even things shed been wearing or carrying during an interaction with the offender. If that was the case, they could isolate the offenders scent for Hero and, if they were lucky enough to close in on any suspects, let the bloodhound do his work.
For the umpteenth time, Casey reminded herself that this wasnt supposed to be about apprehending the person responsible for Jans disappearance, just about locating the young woman or her body. But Casey couldnt help herself. She was desperate to catch the scumbag who, if her instincts were right, was a serial killer. She wanted to give Daniel Olson the peace he required. At the same time, she wanted to nail Jan and Hollys killer.
She worked methodically with the vacuum, and then handed the stuffed animal and the pillow back to Jans father. Thank you. This is great for now. My whole team will be on this. Ill get back to you as soon as we have a lead.
I appreciate it. The dying man looked so grateful, it was emotionally painful to witness. Time is working against me. Im aware of your reputation. So I feel my first sense of hope.
Hang on to that, Casey urged, zipping up her tote bag and giving Heros leash a light tug to let him know they were leaving. Well find the answers youre looking for. She knew she was making a promise she might not be able to deliver. But she couldnt help it. She had to give Jans father something to hold on to.
It was up to her and the FI team to make that something a reality.
Bottles, Wines and Spirits
Morningside Heights, NY
The liquor store was a few blocks away from Columbia. Kendra and her friend Marie made a quick trip there after classes were over. They were eager to buy a large enough quantity of booze to impress the upperclassmen at the frat party they were going to that night. Kendra had her fake ID, so the age restriction wasnt an object. And theyd be paying in cash, so thered be no credit card receipts to explain to their parents.
It didnt take long to make their selections. This place was great, because it was cheap. They picked up five bottlesthree of vodka and two of rumand carried them up to the register.
The guy behind the counter was in his early-to mid-thirties. With dark hair slicked back in a ponytail and wearing a T-shirt with a name plate that said Barry on it, he looked grungy, as if he didnt enjoy taking showers. He studied the two of them for a minuteduring which Kendra was getting ready to produce her ID. Abruptly, he averted his gaze, ringing up their bottles one by one, and shoving them into two brown paper bags.