Authors: Alan Jacobson

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Vail 01 - The 7th Victim (61 page)

BOOK: Vail 01 - The 7th Victim

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He nodded. “I remember what happened.”

While waiting for him to continue, she took a tissue and dabbed at his moist forehead. The door opened, letting in a slice of light from the hallway.

“Everything okay in here?” the nurse asked.

“Nightmare,” Vail said. “We’re fine.”

The door slipped closed. Jonathan wiped his eyes with the back of a hand, sniffled, then spoke. “Dad was angry, said you’d kicked him and broke his ribs. He said you were going to make the court take me away from him. I told him that’s what I wanted.”

She touched his forearm. She was proud her son had stood up to Deacon. He had intimidated Jonathan, abused him for too long.

“He didn’t say anything. But a few minutes later he told me to get a can of beans from the pantry in the basement. As I started to go down the steps I felt him push me. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Vail sat down on his bed and gathered him close. While holding him, she reached for the phone to call Bledsoe. He answered it on the fourth ring.

“Sorry to wake you, but I’m at the hospital with Jonathan. He remembers what happened. You’re going to want to hear this.”

Bledsoe arrived twenty minutes later, wearing sweats and a leather jacket. He reintroduced himself to Jonathan and listened intently to the youth’s version of events. “Are you sure this isn’t something you dreamt? I mean, not to say I don’t believe you, but you woke up screaming. Sounds like a nightmare to me.”

“I remember hitting my elbow on the metal railing.” He pushed the gown back and turned his arm to look at it. There was a large scabbed wound overlying the joint. He held it up for Bledsoe to see.

“Okay.” He pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed a number. “Hey, this is Bledsoe. I need you to find out what magistrate is on duty.” He waited a long moment, placed a reassuring hand on Vail’s shoulder, then pulled his face back to the phone. “Yeah, I’m here. Tell Benezra I need an arrest warrant drawn up.”

AN HOUR LATER, Bledsoe called Vail from his station house. “Just wanted you to know I dispatched two officers to pick up your ex. He should be in the system real soon.”

Vail was standing outside Jonathan’s hospital room. Though he had fallen back asleep, Vail remained awake—which had become a bad habit these past few days. “Bledsoe, I owe you.”

“Shit, Karen, you don’t owe me anything. It’ll be a pleasure seeing this monkey greased.”

“At least he won’t be hurting Jonathan anymore. It should solve the custody issue once and for all. And maybe even the case he’s got pending against me.”

“One thing’s for sure. A jury’s going to be a lot more inclined to believe you and piss on Deacon’s version of what happened.”

Vail thanked him, left Jonathan a note, and hobbled out to her car using the crutches the orthopedist had given her. She felt uncoordinated and looked even worse, she was sure. At least she would be rid of them soon.

She headed home to try to get some sleep so she did not fall asleep in Robby’s arms later in the evening. She wanted the date to be perfect—knee pain aside—and had gone food shopping yesterday to stock up on the items she needed to prepare a special meal she found in one of her gourmet cookbooks. She even bought a large bottle of Korbel champagne to celebrate Jonathan’s recovery and their cracking the Dead Eyes case. Now, with Deacon’s impending arrest, they had one more reason to make it a special occasion.

As she slipped beneath the covers, the morning light started slicing through her blinds. But a minute later it didn’t matter, because she was already fast asleep.

seventy-seven

“W
e haven’t been able to find your ex.” Bledsoe stood at Vail’s front door, leaning against the porch railing. “I don’t know if he’s just out of town, or if he somehow knew this was coming down and fled. We’ve got a guy on his place. We started pulling phone LUDs, home and cell, to see who he might’ve talked with recently. It’ll tell us when the last calls were logged, give us an idea if he’s been home lately.” He looked out at the street for a moment. “Any idea where he might have gone? Relatives? Friends?”

“Brother in Vegas. Hasn’t spoken to him in years. No friends I know of.” Vail was wearing a faded FBI sweatshirt and ragged jeans she had thrown on when the doorbell rang. Though she had napped for several hours, she felt worse now than when she had been pumping her sleep-deprived body full of caffeine. She rubbed at her burning eyes and said, “Neighbors?”

Bledsoe shook his head. “No one’s seen anything. Him, his car, others around the house, nothing. For days.”

“I wish I could tell you where to look.”

“We’ll find him,” Bledsoe said. “When we pick him up, I’ll let you know.” He smiled. “Must be my breath or something. First Hancock disappears, then your ex. Still can’t find Hancock, either.”

“Turn over some rocks. They’ll both probably be crawling in the muck like slugs. What do you want with Hancock?”

“With Farwell in the bag—literally—he’s obviously off the Dead Eyes suspect list, but I wanted to make sure he was clear for Linwood. Del Monaco thinks I’m wasting my time. He said everything fits and I shouldn’t beat a dead horse. Actually, I think he said a dead
corpse.
”

“The locket sealed the linkage.”

“Maybe I just want to get in the prick’s face again. Stir him up. Gotta get my kicks somehow. You were right from the get-go. Guy’s a first class asshole.”

Vail winced. “I’ve gotta get off my feet. Knee’s killing me. Surgeon gave me Tylenol with codeine, but I hate the thought of taking narcotics. Goes back to my beat days.”

“Hey, the Tylenol’s legal. If the doc gave ’em to you, use ’em. No reason to be in pain. You’ve suffered enough these past few weeks.”

Vail turned and hobbled down the hall to grab a seat. “Ain’t that the truth.”

seventy-eight

A
n hour after Bledsoe left, Robby showed up at Vail’s house with a bouquet of white roses, along with a bottle of V. Sattui’s Madeira, not realizing Vail had already procured the champagne.

“We’ll start with the champagne,” he said, “then work our way to the madeira. A friend of mine brought it from Napa a couple months ago. He said it’s real good after dinner. Wine fortified with brandy. Not too sweet, but very smooth.”

“I gotta warn you, Detective Hernandez, I don’t handle my booze very well.”

“Oh, yeah? And what happens?”

“I get drunk and disorderly.”

Robby’s eyebrows raised. “I think I can deal with that, Agent Vail. I’ve got my cuffs with me.”

“And I get really horny.”

Robby smiled. “Then we’ve got everything we need.”

She laughed. “Come on in, you can help me finish cooking dinner.”

THE FAMILY ROOM FIREPLACE was crackling, lit candles were flickering, and the smell of a merlot-based tomato basil reduction sauce filled the entire house. Vail removed the garlic bread from the oven while Robby drained the linguini noodles.

And they were already on their second glass of champagne.

Vail swiveled her head. “You know, I had some paperwork from the hospital somewhere, but I can’t find it. I’ve looked high and low and everywhere in between. Everywhere and in between,” she said, drawing out the last word.

Robby smiled. “Maybe it said not to mix alcohol and pain pills before surgery.”

She could feel a slight bead of perspiration on her forehead, her movements free and a bit easier than usual. The alcohol had hit her bloodstream.

“No shit, Sherlock. I know that, but Bledsoe told me to take my pain meds, codeine, can you believe that? I’d be, like, totally flying now if I’d done that. Codeine and alcohol. You know what that would’ve done to me? Can you believe how that would feel? I’d be, like, shit-faced right now.”

Robby placed his fingers on her lips and smiled. “Shh . . . I don’t know if I should tell you this, but you’re already shit-faced.”

“Not me. Not after only two glasses of champagne.”

“You’re a lightweight, Vail. I’m in total control of you.”

She pulled him close. “And what are you going to do with this control, you detective agent Rob-me Horny-andez?”

He pulled her from her chair and carried her out of the dining room into the adjacent living room, where he laid her on the couch. “I’m going to take advantage of you.”

“Oh, should I call a cop?”

“What’s a cop going to do about it, help us cop-ulate?” He chuckled.

She giggled.

“Maybe he’ll use these,” he said, pulling the handcuffs from his back pocket. But they dropped harmlessly to the floor as he leaned into her and planted a long kiss on her lips. She wormed her arms around his neck and held him close, continuing the kiss, the alcohol melting away the stresses of recent weeks. No, it wasn’t the alcohol, she suddenly realized as he unbuttoned her blouse. It was passion. Love. The release of letting oneself go so completely without fear of total consumption.

They made love over the next hour, the candles flickering above them, hearts fluttering within them. Warm bodies and hot breaths forging a union she had been yearning for all her life, but never had found. Until now.

They lay on the floor in each other’s arms, the fire dying out and the cool air chilling their naked bodies. She drew a throw blanket around her while Robby crawled to the coffee table, where he then peeled away the smooth, red wax sealing the bottle of madeira. He poured a glass for her, then for himself, and they both drank simultaneously. “Ooh, this is good,” Vail said. “Really good.” She instantly felt the rush as the brandy-infused wine slid down her throat.

“I’ll have to thank my friend—”

He was interrupted by the warble of his cell. Vail’s went off a second later. They shared a confused glance, then Robby rose to retrieve his phone. He helped Vail to her feet, but she let out a loud cry and crumpled in his arms. “My knee. Shit. I shouldn’t have been sitting on the floor like that. It’s locked. Shit.”

“I’ll get you some ice.” He carried her into the kitchen and set her down on a stool.

“There’s a gel pack in the freezer.”

He wrapped the pack in a paper towel, then handed it to her.

BOOK: Vail 01 - The 7th Victim

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