Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,95
to hide from cops. Not much of a way to hide from a determined killer either.”
The entire team was frowning.
“Conrad appeared in the bar with Jacob Ness seven years ago.” Keith spoke up. “Conrad and his family are from Florida. Jacob and his family are from Florida. I still think there has to be a connection.”
“The FBI has made some progress on that front,” Quincy reported. “After our little powwow this morning, we started running Google searches based on some of the username ideas we discussed, across some of the online platforms we believe Ness would’ve frequented. In the end, we discovered an identical username on several social media sites as well as some more … specific … sexual fantasy forums. We’re still building the user profile, but we believe Jacob’s username is most likely I. N. Verness. Capital I, period, capital N, period, capital V, Verness. So it looks like first two initials, followed by a last name. But it’s actually a shout-out to Jacob’s hometown.”
“And a county associated with another legendary monster.” Flora was nodding. “That sounds exactly like him.”
“Our experts will now flesh out a full online profile of INVerness, including specific site visits and website details. In turn, this will allow us to subpoena information from these sites. We’re also running codebreaker software as we speak. I’m told within twelve to fourteen hours, we may finally have the answers to Jacob’s online activities.”
The FBI agent sounded triumphant. D.D. couldn’t blame her.
“You said Conrad’s father worked Major Cases for the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office.” Keith again.. “Was it possible he’d been investigating Jacob Ness?”
“Twelve years ago?” Neil shrugged. “Was Ness even on anyone’s radar screen?”
“We didn’t know about him till Flora’s abduction,” Quincy said. “At least not as a serial predator. Prior to that, he had a criminal record for assault. Upon release from prison, however, he disappeared from law enforcement radar screens.”
“He was never going back,” Flora murmured. “A man with his appetites didn’t belong behind bars.” She looked up at Quincy. “He didn’t stop attacking women after prison. He just got smarter about it.”
“Meaning a JSO detective might have been looking into him,” Keith pressed.
“I’ll call the Investigations Division chief,” Neil conceded. “Given how far back we’re looking, it might take them a bit, but there’s gotta be a record of Detective Bill Conner’s active cases at the time of his death.”
“I’m thinking a big rig could certainly run a car off the road,” Keith said. “That’s all.”
Personally, D.D. thought Keith Edgar saw Jacob Ness everywhere. Which was the problem with amateur sleuths—they often started with a theory of the case, then worked backward to justify their suspicions, versus letting the evidence do the talking. However … She leaned forward to address Neil. “When you’re talking to the Jax commander, ask him if Conrad ever called with the same request. Or has made any follow-up inquiries about his father’s work. It would help tell us where his head was at—searching for his parents’ killer, trying to finish what his father started. I don’t know. But we need to figure it out.”
“If only his wife hadn’t shot up the computer,” Phil said now.
“She claimed she did it to protect her husband’s reputation,” D.D. provided. “When she walked in on the scene, Conrad was already dead, and the laptop was open with photos of … victimized girls on the screen.”
“Sounds like motive for her to kill him right there,” Phil countered.
“Sure. But …” D.D. frowned. “I don’t think she did it. The story she told Flora and me, coming home to the scene in the office, her instinctive need to cover for her future child’s father …”
“Ah, but didn’t you believe her story last time? Which turned out to be just that, a complete fabrication concocted by her and her mother?”
D.D. scowled at her former mentor. “I’m not saying we take her off our radar screen. Clearly, there was a lot going on in this marriage. But she did give us the financial lead …”
“All the better to direct you away from her.”
“And there was an eight-minute gap between shots fired.” D.D. skewered Phil with a look. “Say, the gap that would occur if a wife had come home right after the killer had fled, stumbled upon the scene, and for reasons of her own, took action against the laptop.”
“You mean a mysterious killer who fled through a heavily populated neighborhood and left no trace, no witnesses behind?”