Free Karen Vail 01 - Velocity by Alan Jacobson Page B

at lying.”

    “Did you know, Agent Vail, that I have security cameras hooked up al over this warehouse?”
    Vail had seen the cameras in the parking lot on her last visit, but she hadn’t noticed any inside. But it made sense. With so much invested in the rigs—and without the trucks there was no business—of course Superior would have instituted interior surveil ance measures.
    She stood her ground. There was nothing she could do now, in the eyes of the law—or in those of her ASAC, Thomas Gifford—that would worsen her situation.
    Short of pul ing the trigger.
    In a low voice, Vail said, “If I find that you had anything to do with Robby Hernandez’s disappearance, I wil find you. Where there aren’t any security cameras. And if any harm comes to Robby, harm wil come to you.” She added pressure to her weapon. Guevara squinted away the pain. “You understand me?”
    “You got it al wrong, Agent Vail.” He locked eyes with her. “But I hear you. Loud and clear.”
    Vail splayed open her free hand, placed it against Guevara’s chest, and pushed herself away from him. She kept the Glock in her right hand, her index finger hovering over the trigger rather than in a safety position by the outside guard.
    “Everything okay in here?”
    It was Dixon, walking toward her from the other end of the warehouse, down the aisle between the trailers.
    Vail hadn’t taken her eyes off Guevara. “Remember what I said.”
    Dixon’s eyes seemed to find Vail’s Glock in her right hand, which she now held at her side.
    “Did I miss something?”
    “Unfortunately, no.” Vail started to back away. ‘“Let’s go.”
    But Dixon stopped suddenly, her eyes pinned to the ceiling. Vail turned. No, not the ceiling—at the wal -mounted television, where a banner reading “Special Report” was scrol ing across the bottom of the screen. An attractive female reporter was standing in front of the Sheriff’s Department, motioning animatedly into the camera.
    “Turn it up,” Dixon yel ed at Guevara.
    He squinted anger, then reached for a shelf beneath the adjacent rig and lifted an elaborate remote. A green slider appeared onscreen and wiped across its surface, the volume rising proportionately.
    “ . . . refuses comment at this time. But KRSH-4 has learned that a man, who’s been identified as John Wayne Mayfield, has been arrested in the deaths of several Napa area residents. According to informed sources and witness accounts, KRSH has learned that Mayfield is a serial kil er who’s been operating in and around the val ey in recent weeks. Apparently, a number of individuals who have passed away under suspicious circumstances during the past several days may’ve actual y been victims of John Wayne Mayfield. Attempts at obtaining verification have been unsuccessful, with the Napa County Coroner’s Office declining to confirm or deny whether or not the bodies of these victims are even in their morgue. The FBI is reportedly on the case as wel , though they, too, have declined comment.
    “We’l bring you ful coverage as soon as more information becomes available.
    But one thing is certain, Fred: the police kept the public in the dark that a dangerous kil er was loose in our community. Impossible to say yet just how many lives that decision has cost the val ey. And the kil er? After an apparent shootout with cops, he’s lying comatose in the intensive care unit at Napa Val ey Medical Center.
    “Reporting live from the Napa County Sheriff’s Department, this is Stephanie Norcross.”
    The news anchor appeared onscreen and began talking.
    Vail and Dixon shared a concerned look and then left the building.

    13
    W el that sucks big time,” Dixon said.
    “What are the odds that Cannon saw that?” Vail asked.
    “Who the hel knows? But the bel ’s been rung. It’s just a matter of time before he hears, if he hasn’t already.” They got back into the car and Dixon started driving north, toward Napa. “What happened back