user when he wants to. People ignore him when he does that. Most people dismiss users and won’t even look at them. He’s got the look down to perfection. He will smoke pot, but not all that often. He doesn’t want the smell on him. He told me that would ruin his living arrangements if someone actually smelled it in their home.”
Vittorio had to admit he was shocked. He’d believed absolutely that Phillips was a meth addict. He shot his sister another quick look. She was already spreading the word to family members. If Phillips wasn’t using, his addiction was gambling. Gambling and killing. He was probably just as obsessed with torturing and killing as he was with gambling.
“He passes himself off as a meth user,” Jason muttered, frowning. “That’s unusual. And smart. He blends in. He can be on the streets or in the shelters and make friends there. Street people don’t often talk freely to law enforcement and he knows it. What about a ride?”
“He mostly walks or uses public transit. He steals cars when he wants to go a distance, but it isn’t his preferred method because there’s always the chance the car has been reported stolen. He usually takes them off a long-term parking lot if he’s going to do it.”
“How did he get you to go out to the car if you knew it was stolen?” Art asked in his deceptively mild voice.
Vinci Sanchez strode into the room. He wore the Ferraro three-piece suit, but his was a slate blue gray without the thin pinstripes. His tie was just a shade darker blue. “I’m sorry I’m late, gentlemen, but I had to find out how Grace, Emme and Mariko were doing. And what they should be doing.” His shrewd dark brown eyes took in the room, resting briefly on Emme and the oxygen mask she was wearing. “Shouldn’t Grace be using oxygen as well? That was my understanding.”
When Grace frowned, clearly wondering who Vinci was and why he needed to know her medical condition, Vittorio squeezed her hand in warning.
“Thanks for coming, cousin,” he greeted. “I know we shouldn’t need a lawyer, but it’s always nice to have one just to be safe.”
Grace ran events that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. She was intelligent and quick, she couldn’t fail to perceive his warning. He wanted her to be very cautious in what she said to the cops. Cooperative, but cautious. He didn’t want Art and Jason to consider for one moment that she was anything other than Haydon’s victim.
“Grace was just telling us how Phillips lured her to his car even though she knew it was stolen,” Art said helpfully.
Vinci frowned. “That sounds like a question designed to entrap my client.”
“Since when did Grace Murphy become your client, Sanchez?” Jason asked.
“She’s family. Every family member is my client. Grace, perhaps you should use that oxygen mask.”
She shook her head. “I want to help them catch him if it’s at all possible. I had refused to take out another loan. I have three already outstanding major debts and I told him that. He acted like he understood, but I knew he would do something. I tried to explain it was a matter of economics, I couldn’t take out another loan. I was already in over my head. He told me that I’d left my sweater at a venue and he’d grabbed it. My sweater had been missing for a couple of weeks and just to freak me out, Haydon sometimes showed up at the KB events. He asked me to walk out to his car with him.”
“Did it occur to you that you could be in danger?”
“I was always in danger. Always. I felt every minute of the day that I was walking a tightrope and any moment I was going to fall. Part of me just wanted it over.” She looked at Vittorio and there was a plea for understanding as well as definite shame.
“Il mia bellissima gattina.” Vittorio kept his voice low as he turned her hand over and brought it to his mouth, so he could press a kiss into the center of her palm. “You are very brave. Very few people could have held up all those years of living in terror.”
Her gaze clung to his for a moment as if drawing strength from him and he hoped she would. He wanted to be her strength. He couldn’t imagine growing up knowing the boy who had protected you was a serial