Robin Burcell - Face of a Killer

Sydney started to walk out, then stopped. “Did anyone check with Schermer on that white van?”

“Yeah,” Carillo said. “Van was empty, and the purse was empty. Nothing to tie it to anyone, including our purse snatcher.”

“Worth a try.” About to turn away, she stopped again, tried not to look at Dixon, who was looking slightly annoyed that she was even present in the building when she was supposed to be home recuperating. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I think he could be the guy. He bears a slight resemblance to the sketch, though it’s hard to say with his face all banged up. But that’s the second time a couple hookers pointed him out as being our man.”

“Meaning what?” Dixon said.

“Meaning, don’t you find it odd that this whole purse snatching thing started up around the time that our Jane Doe case and Tara Brown cases started taking off? I seem to remember Maggie dragging out an empty purse from Stow Lake, where I found bits of taillight, and Schermer finds a white van with a missing taillight, and an empty purse in it, and our Jane Doe was last seen complaining about some creep in a white van.”

Carillo leaned back in his chair. “Now that would’ve been nice to know before we knocked out all his teeth.”

“I only just thought of it. And at least you collected the teeth.”

Dixon gave a tired sigh. “Ren, check the purse from Stow Lake, and the one found in the van. See if it belongs to any of SFPD’s purse snatch victims, or better yet, any rape victims. Carillo, impound that van, and get the ERT on it for any trace evidence.”

“The teeth,” Sydney pointed out.

Dixon said, “And see if the guy will agree to letting us get an impression of his teeth. If not, write a warrant. Take the impressions and the broken teeth to Dr. Armand. See if he can put it together and determine if we have a match. Thank you, and good night, Fitzpatrick.”

Sydney opened her mouth to protest, and Dixon said, “Don’t even try. You’ve been ordered off the case. Get a ride home from Scotty. The rest of us will regroup tomorrow.”

Scotty walked her downstairs, but instead of driving her home, passed her off to Jared Dunning. “I, uh, have a couple errands,” he said.

She was a bit surprised he wasn’t taking her home, but brushed it off. She was about to climb into the backseat when Jared said, “Shit, Mel. Don’t make her sit back there with all the trash.”

Mel looked back. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” He got out, let her take the front.

Sydney slid in, buckled up, and as they drove off, said, “So, what’s it like working for the Agency?”

“Not bad,” Mel said.

Jared shook his head. “Mel, you’re a fucking idiot.” To Sydney, he said, “Do me a favor. You didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.”

“Ask what?” she said. That, however, was the extent of their conversation. So they were CIA, and were under orders not to say who they worked for.

When they arrived at her place, there were no lights on upstairs, but plenty on downstairs at Rainie’s. The car pulled into the driveway, and Sydney saw a little face peeking out. Her heart constricted. “Oh my God. Did you guys know my sister was here?”

Jared looked into the window, saw Angie staring at their car. “She must have been dropped off when we were out watching you and Scotty. But unless she’s a threat, the guys wouldn’t have stopped her from coming.”

“A threat? What about being in danger?” How the hell had this happened? She’d told her mother specifically not to bring Angie here. God, this was all her fault. She’d been so damned preoccupied when her mother had called…

She took out her cell phone, phoned Jake before she even got out of the car.

“It’s Syd. Where are you?”

“Bodega Bay with your mother. What’s going on?”

“I told Mom not to bring Angie here. You dropped her off at Rainie’s.”

“Well, your mother called Rainie and asked if she could watch her. She said it was okay.”

“Oh my God… Look, I can’t go into any details, Jake. But there are armed men watching my apartment as a safety precaution. Please come get her.”

A moment of silence, then, “I’m on my way. Do not let anything happen to my little girl.”

“How long until you’re here?”

“Maybe an hour.”

Sydney relayed the info to Jared.

“We’ll be watching for him when he gets here,” he said. “I’ll pass on the info to the other guys.”

Sydney knocked on Rainie’s door, and Rainie answered, holding a spoon that looked like it was covered in chocolate sauce. “Hey, you just missed out on the sundaes,” she said, letting her in.

Angie was seated at the couch, scraping every last bit of ice cream from her bowl. “Hey, Syd! Mom said you had to work tonight or something.”

“Yeah, well, I did, and, um, I was talking to your dad on the phone. Their trip got canceled, and they’re on their way to pick you up,” she said, trying to sound casual.

Rainie flicked her a glance, said nothing, and Angie’s smile faded. “He can’t come! Mom said I could stay here. I don’t have school tomorrow. It’s fall break.”

Rainie said, “Who can keep track of these new school schedules?”

“Jake will be here in an hour. Maybe you and Rainie can watch the Disney Channel until he gets here.”

“What about you?”

The last place she needed to be was here, near her sister and Rainie. She thought of her imminent transfer, the men watching her outside, everything that was going on in her life right now. Maybe, just maybe, moving far away wasn’t a bad thing. “Tonight’s not good. I have this horrible sore throat. And I feel like I’m going to be sick to my stomach.” That much, at least, was true. “I don’t want to get you or Rainie sick.”

Angie stared into her sundae cup as Sydney walked to the door. Rainie remained silent, probably figuring Sydney would fill her in tomorrow.

“You know what we could do?” Sydney said, pausing by the door. “Watch the Disney Channel together. Like we used to do when I lived in Washington? You can do it down here at Rainie’s, and I’ll do it upstairs.”

Angie gave a slight shrug, noncommittal. “I thought you didn’t feel good.”

“But that always makes me feel better. Please,” Sydney asked.

“Yeah. Okay.” She even smiled slightly.

Sydney blew Angie a kiss, told them to lock the doors, then walked up the stairs to her own apartment. On the landing, she heard Topper sniffing at Arturo’s door, then settle down, no doubt figuring it was only she. One smart dog, she thought as she unlocked her door, let herself in, before locking it up tight, then glancing out her window. A dark-colored sedan cruised slowly past, and she thought she recognized Scotty at the wheel.

It didn’t comfort her in the least, and she turned on all the lights, kicked off her shoes by the door, then made herself a cup of tea, chamomile. It was supposed to be relaxing. Sydney was far from relaxed, and she pulled out that photo that was supposed to be of her father on his last mission…

She stared at it, ran her finger along his shoulder, feeling only cold slick paper. This was not the father she’d loved, the father from her fishing trip. Not the father she wanted to remember. This was another man…

With a sigh, she looked at the photo again, tried to see if there was something, anything that would tell her what she was missing. There was nothing different. Just the same four men in their black, unmarked fatigues, and Gnoble in his uniform. The same rings they all wore. She remembered her father wearing one. Robert Orozco still wore his, she thought, glancing up at the painting…

Sydney’s phone rang, startling her. Angie calling from downstairs. “Do you have the TV on yet?”