“No, we don’t. We’ve got fucking nothing. This guy finds women who clearly have no close ties to anyone who may consider it strange when they disappear.”
“What—”
“This asshole needs to be stopped. Based on various wounds, and the stages of healing, our medical examiner says the guy holds these women and tortures them for upwards of two to three weeks.”
This captures his attention, and Diesel looks up to what he thinks is Travis’s eyes. It’s hard to tell with the reflective sunglasses. “Two to three weeks?”
“And then he disfigures them and removes all identifying markers we typically use. None of the victims’ DNA is on file. Their hair is gone. Scalped, assuming we even get a head in the remains. No fingertips. No teeth. Nothing.”
“What exactly is it that you think we can do that you can’t? You know, you being the law enforcement officer and all.”
“You don’t have to follow the same rules I do. The city is scared. Rightly so. Women are terrified to go out at night, and the news thankfully doesn’t know that this last victim likely isn’t number eight. We’re pretty sure it’s the twelfth, but we haven’t been able to tie the first four cases to him definitively yet.”
The stories in the news haven’t shed the most favorable light on the department, and if the Drifters were on better terms with them, they’d be more than happy to help. Especially with a perpetrator who tortures women for weeks. Unfortunately, they’re not on good terms.
“That’s not going to look too good on you when that confirmation gets passed down. To know the count is higher, not lower, is going to create a bit of panic.”
“This guy won’t stop until someone stops him. I know you have Bradshaw, who can do things our technical analysts can’t even dream of doing. They either don’t have the skills or the balls to step around legality.”
Of course, he wants to bring in their tech wizard. And reference the illegal ways Brock’s able to get around virtually. That way, when it comes time to apprehend this asshole, they can claim recognition. If Brock or the club tried to say anything different, they could wave illegal activity to do it over their heads.
“Not that I’m a fan of the feds snooping around here, but why hasn’t the FBI shown up to take over? Since you clearly have nothing,” Diesel asks with a chuckle. “Or is Julian trying to keep it quiet because he’s a glory hog?”
Shaking his head, Travis sighs. “All I know is what Julian’s said. He claims the FBI is backlogged thanks to budget cuts and other priorities. The women appear to be transient because wecan’t even connect them to a missing person. It hasn’t garnered the right attention, which means national coverage.”
“I find it kind of interesting that you’re here, asking for our help, when you fired Grayson because we were aliability.”
“You weren’t a liability; Grayson was. Which doesn’t sound any better,” he admits. “Look, it wasn’t my decision to let him go, okay?”
“Then your boss goes out there talking shit about us. He really has no idea you’re here right now, does he? You weren’t just blowing smoke up my ass.”
His silent stare at the building tells Diesel he’s right on the money. Although getting caught going inside the Drifters’ clubhouse would actually have looked worse than him standing out here talking to Diesel.
“You fired my son-in-law and called us trash. Now, you’re crawling back asking for our help. What exactly do I get out of this, Hall? What does the club get? Because from where I’m sitting, we’re still gonna be the ones shit on.”
“Women are dying!” he shouts.
Shoving the folder against Travis’s chest, he shakes his head. “And you know who would have been great at heading up this investigation? Grayson. But you fired him. Then you made us an enemy when we were an ally. This isn’t our problem, Hall.”
He steps around Diesel and sets the folder on the picnic table next to the front door. “In case you change your mind, there’s everything we have on the last woman found at the gas station. I can get you the rest of the files, if you need them, too.”
“And why would—”
“The woman who found the body at the gas station was Edna Miller. She was so startled by the grotesque sight that she had a heart attack and died in front of pump four. That’s where we’re at right now, Diesel. It’s bigger than me, which is why I’m here. Fruitless or not, at least I tried.”
He walks away, and Diesel stares after him. Edna Miller was once their neighbor. Before Nancy died. She was a sweet woman, and the thought of her finding a dismembered and disfigured body being the last thing she ever saw tugs at his heartstrings a bit.
No! That’s exactly what Hall wants. What he tried to do. He’s trying to bait me by making me feel sorry for others. Those motherfuckers should learn not to shit where they eat.
He grabs the folder and takes it inside. Maybe he’ll bring it to the table this week. That wouldn’t hurt, right? At least agree together that the decision is a big, fat no?
Chapter Four
Griffin’s Beach
Hailey
Last night, when the trunk of the car opened, Hailey Lawrence did her best to figure out where the hell she and her roommate, Lindsey, were taken to. It looked like a garage or warehouse of some sort, but a blindfold was pulled over her head before she got a clear look at her surroundings.
