either, but he seemed more distracted than usual and blamed two roommates."
The phone interrupted. Jane ignored its ringing because she knew one of the volunteers would pick up. "And?"
"He mentioned they were girls, as opposed to women. He even said they were sisters."
Excitement and hope shot through Jane. "My kidnap victims."
"Possibly."
"He talked as if they were still alive?"
"Yes."
Jane had no idea what shape they'd be in but, given the odds, this was welcome news. "So if Wesley Boss is Malcolm Turner, and Malcolm's such a racist, why did he take them? Why these two? Why not two white girls?"
"I'm guessing it was a crime of opportunity."
"Earlier you said he was having trouble with them."
"He made it sound that way."
"What kind of trouble?"
"He didn't specify. But if he has these girls with him, it would certainly explain why he's been so reluctant to see Mary."
Crossing her legs, Jane toyed with a ballpoint pen. "She's willing to meet with him?"
"I'll be the one doing that."
"Oh, right. Of course."
The intercom buzzed. "Jane?" It was Lisa, the volunteer who'd shown 85
Sebastian into the room.
Jane hit the button that would let her respond. "Yes?"
"Detective Willis on line one."
"Thank you." Standing, because she had too much energy to remain seated, no matter how much more relaxed it made her seem, she picked up line one.
"David?"
"Jane, I've only got a second. I'm on my way to perform a search. But I had someone else get the address associated with Wesley Boss's P.O. box. Are you ready?"
Her eyes connected with Sebastian's; then she grabbed a piece of paper from the holder on her desk. "Ready."
He rattled off an address in Ione, a small town in Amador County about forty-five minutes away.
"Got it," she said.
"I've already called the sheriff's department. A deputy will join you there, but I'm betting he's closer than you are, so you'd better hurry."
"I understand. Thanks for letting me know." She hung up and grabbed her purse from under the desk. "We've got to go," she said.
Sebastian came to his feet. "You know where he is?"
"I have an address. What we'll find when we get there is anyone's guess."
86
Eight
C ould it really be over? After all the time he'd spent searching?
Sebastian almost didn't dare hope. But as he drove Jane Burke to Ione--her car didn't have GPS and he hadn't yet sacrificed his Lexus--he called to share the news with Mary. He doubted he'd be able to reach her this early. She was at the hospital working in admissions until four. But he could leave a message she might get on her break. With those flowers showing up at her house this morning, he wanted to alleviate her fears as soon as possible.
The voice-mail recording he'd expected came on. He waited for the beep.
"Mary, this is Sebastian. I think we have him. Don't worry about anything, okay?
I'll be back in touch when I know more."
As he hung up, he felt Jane watching him and glanced over. He wasn't quite sure what to think of her. She seemed like such a contradiction. She dressed like a typical professional, in conservative business casual, but her hair--dark at the roots and jagged and bleached on the ends--was anything but conservative. Her low-pitched, raspy voice suggested she smoked and yet she was obviously in great physical shape. Then there were the tattoos. She had one on her breast. The V of her sweater came up too high for him to see what it was, but when she moved, he occasionally glimpsed the edge of it. The other was the word survivor written on the curve between the thumb and finger on her left hand.
The fact that she was working at a victims' charity led him to believe that tattoo had nothing to do with being a fan of the popular reality show.
What had she been through?
The scar on her neck, noticeable when she turned her head, posed some frightening possibilities....
"You really think we'll find Malcolm Turner?" she asked, shifting her gaze to a point outside the car, as if uncomfortable
The phone interrupted. Jane ignored its ringing because she knew one of the volunteers would pick up. "And?"
"He mentioned they were girls, as opposed to women. He even said they were sisters."
Excitement and hope shot through Jane. "My kidnap victims."
"Possibly."
"He talked as if they were still alive?"
"Yes."
Jane had no idea what shape they'd be in but, given the odds, this was welcome news. "So if Wesley Boss is Malcolm Turner, and Malcolm's such a racist, why did he take them? Why these two? Why not two white girls?"
"I'm guessing it was a crime of opportunity."
"Earlier you said he was having trouble with them."
"He made it sound that way."
"What kind of trouble?"
"He didn't specify. But if he has these girls with him, it would certainly explain why he's been so reluctant to see Mary."
Crossing her legs, Jane toyed with a ballpoint pen. "She's willing to meet with him?"
"I'll be the one doing that."
"Oh, right. Of course."
The intercom buzzed. "Jane?" It was Lisa, the volunteer who'd shown 85
Sebastian into the room.
Jane hit the button that would let her respond. "Yes?"
"Detective Willis on line one."
"Thank you." Standing, because she had too much energy to remain seated, no matter how much more relaxed it made her seem, she picked up line one.
"David?"
"Jane, I've only got a second. I'm on my way to perform a search. But I had someone else get the address associated with Wesley Boss's P.O. box. Are you ready?"
Her eyes connected with Sebastian's; then she grabbed a piece of paper from the holder on her desk. "Ready."
He rattled off an address in Ione, a small town in Amador County about forty-five minutes away.
"Got it," she said.
"I've already called the sheriff's department. A deputy will join you there, but I'm betting he's closer than you are, so you'd better hurry."
"I understand. Thanks for letting me know." She hung up and grabbed her purse from under the desk. "We've got to go," she said.
Sebastian came to his feet. "You know where he is?"
"I have an address. What we'll find when we get there is anyone's guess."
86
Eight
C ould it really be over? After all the time he'd spent searching?
Sebastian almost didn't dare hope. But as he drove Jane Burke to Ione--her car didn't have GPS and he hadn't yet sacrificed his Lexus--he called to share the news with Mary. He doubted he'd be able to reach her this early. She was at the hospital working in admissions until four. But he could leave a message she might get on her break. With those flowers showing up at her house this morning, he wanted to alleviate her fears as soon as possible.
The voice-mail recording he'd expected came on. He waited for the beep.
"Mary, this is Sebastian. I think we have him. Don't worry about anything, okay?
I'll be back in touch when I know more."
As he hung up, he felt Jane watching him and glanced over. He wasn't quite sure what to think of her. She seemed like such a contradiction. She dressed like a typical professional, in conservative business casual, but her hair--dark at the roots and jagged and bleached on the ends--was anything but conservative. Her low-pitched, raspy voice suggested she smoked and yet she was obviously in great physical shape. Then there were the tattoos. She had one on her breast. The V of her sweater came up too high for him to see what it was, but when she moved, he occasionally glimpsed the edge of it. The other was the word survivor written on the curve between the thumb and finger on her left hand.
The fact that she was working at a victims' charity led him to believe that tattoo had nothing to do with being a fan of the popular reality show.
What had she been through?
The scar on her neck, noticeable when she turned her head, posed some frightening possibilities....
"You really think we'll find Malcolm Turner?" she asked, shifting her gaze to a point outside the car, as if uncomfortable
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