Michael Prescott - Next Victim

"We told you we didn’t want the story out there. You put it out anyway. Tell the people-that’s your mantra, right? The people need to know the truth, they can handle it, they won’t panic. Well, maybe they will, maybe they won’t. Thanks to you, now we’ll all get to find out."

"You think I leaked the story…?"

"Oh, gosh. Did I give you that impression?" Sarcasm again. "Well, possibly the thought had occurred to me, seeing as how you made that eloquent plea for the public’s right to know at the EOC briefing."

"For God’s sake, Gerry-just because of that? Because I made a suggestion?"

"No, not just because of that. KPTI knows things they had to have gotten from you."

"What things?"

"The fire in the chemistry lab. And its connection to this case. You were the only one working that angle."

"In case you’ve forgotten, that’s because I’m the one who made the connection in the first place."

Andrus ignored her. "And then you spilled it to a reporter, along with the rest of the story, so it wouldn’t be hushed up. So you could get your way."

"This is crazy. I’ve only been in town twelve days. How would I have any contacts with the local media?"

"Does the name Myron Levine mean anything to you?"

She almost said no, then realized the name was familiar. "TV guy, used to work out of Denver," she said slowly.

"He interviewed you there, as I recall."

"Not exactly. He tried to. I wasn’t interested."

"Not interested in going on the record, anyway. Off the record-who knows?"

"What are you saying?"

"I’m saying, Tess, that Levine is in LA now, and he’s the one with the story, and you knew him in Denver, and it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together."

"I didn’t talk to Levine. I didn’t even know he was here. And besides, I’m not the only person who knew about the lab."

"Who else knew? Besides me, I mean."

"The cop I was working with." She’d disliked him from the moment she saw him in his cheap suit. "Detective Dodge, West LA. That’s who my money’s on."

"Well, that’s great, Tess. But my money is on you."

"Gerry, you know me…"

"Exactly. I know you. I know that you and Paul Voorhees were more than partners and more than friends. I know what his death did to you. And I know you’ve never been the same. This case-it’s so personal for you, so raw and painful, you’ve lost all perspective. You think it’s just about you and Mobius. You think it’s not a team effort. But it is. And I can’t afford you on the team anymore."

She let a moment pass in the squad room, the silence occupied only by the hum of her computer’s hard drive as the bot continued its search.

"No, Gerry," she whispered.

"I shouldn’t have brought you back in. It was an error on my part."

"It wasn’t."

"I’m sending you back to Denver."

"Please."

He stood. "End of discussion."

"Gerry-"

"I’ll protect you as best I can. I haven’t mentioned your name to the mayor or to anyone else. Officially I have no idea where the leak originated."

"It was Dodge, God damn it."

"If there’s an investigation, I’m sure we’ll look at Detective Dodge and any other possible source. And if my suspicions about you are proved wrong, you’ll have my sincere apology."

"I don’t want to leave this case."

"Should have thought about that before you sabotaged it." He moved toward the doorway. "Get out of here, Tess. If you’re not gone in five minutes, I’ll have you removed."

He left, and she was alone.

The door opened again, and she had time to think Andrus was coming back to inflict one more blow. But it wasn’t Andrus. It was the Nose.

"Couldn’t help overhearing the last part of your conversation," he said with a cool, sickly smile.

"It’s none of your business." She got up and slung her purse over her shoulder.

"Probably not. Nothing seems to be my business these days."

She ignored him, but when she tried to leave, he blocked the exit. His smile was gone, and there was pure malice on his face.

"You’ll talk to the media but not your own colleagues. Is that the way it is?"

"I didn’t talk to the media."

"Save it."

"I was under orders not to share any information with you or the other RAVENKIL investigators."

"And you always follow orders. Isn’t that right?"

"In this case I did. I wasn’t eager to share with you anyway."

"No? Why not?"

"Because you’re an asshole."

She took advantage of his surprise to slip past him into the hall, but he wasn’t through with her. He grabbed her by the arm.

"You’re finished, McCallum."

She shook him off and walked away. He called after her, his voice higher and more nasal than usual.

"You think your career was stuck in neutral before this? Just wait."

She kept walking, not looking back.

"By the time we’re through with you, you’ll be lucky to get a post at a resident agency in the fucking Ozarks."

Michaelson’s voice rose to cover more distance as she continued down the hall. She thought of a sheep bleating.

"You’re done. It’s over for you. It’s over."

Had to be Dodge. Had to be.

The thought repeated itself, loud and insistent, as Tess sped north on the San Diego Freeway, toward the Valley and her motel.

She wanted to talk to the son of a bitch. Well, not exactly. What she wanted was to wring his neck. But talking would be a start.

She wondered if he was still on duty, or if she could get his home phone number from the watch commander Home phone number.

She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she found the snitch card Dodge had given her in the elevator last night.

At Ventura Boulevard she exited the freeway. Idling at a stoplight, she took out her cell phone and dialed the number on the card.

Three rings, and an answer. Dodge.

"You piece of shit," she said.

It wasn’t how she had intended to begin. She’d meant to be diplomatic, clever.

"Not exactly the greeting I was hoping for." Dodge seemed unfazed. "Is this Agent McCallum?"

"You know it is." The traffic light cycled to green, and she started driving again. "Damn it, I never should’ve trusted you."

"Something wrong?"

"Shut the hell up. You know exactly what I’m talking about."

"Afraid I don’t, Tess."

"You talked. You leaked to the media, to Myron Levine of Channel…I don’t know."

"Channel Eight. That’s where Levine works."

"So you admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"Don’t insult my intelligence. You went to Levine as soon as you left the campus, didn’t you?"

"Let me get this straight. You’re saying the story has come out, and Levine of Channel Eight has it?"

"Yes. That’s what I’m saying."

"Did it ever occur to you that in an operation this size, there’s bound to be a leak-maybe a dozen leaks? Anybody could’ve talked."

"Not about the chem lab. The fire. Scott Maple. No one else knew about that. No one but you and me."

"And Winston."

"What?"

"Rachel Winston, the pathologist. She’s been known to cozy up to the media-or at least that’s the rumor."

Tess blinked. She hadn’t thought of Winston. "Dr. Winston didn’t know the details," she said slowly.

"She knew Scott Maple died of a cut throat in an arson fire. And she knew about Mobius. You mentioned him-remember?"

That was true. But the name itself would have meant nothing to Winston. The killer’s nickname had never been made public or shared with anyone outside the task force.

Still, Winston could have a contact inside the bureau-someone to help her put the pieces together. Or she might have talked to another pathologist, perhaps the one who’d conducted the autopsy on Angie Callahan, Mobius’s first victim in LA."