Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,109

picture, her hand shaking. “It’s him. It’s Stephen.”

A hush fell over the house.

Jaylon glanced into the living room, to see Aaron and the others staring back. His heart racing with excitement that they’d identified their serial killer, he forced himself to sound calm as he leaned a little closer to study the picture of the rather average looking white man with shoulder-length dark hair and sort of long, fleshy features, and asked, “Are you sure?”

She nodded then swallowed. “It’s the birthmark.”

“Birthmark?” He didn’t see any birthmark on the man’s face.

“It’s behind his right ear and down onto his neck. They call it a something wine?” She turned to Katie for help.

“A port wine stain,” she said with a smile and patted Paula on the back. The others came to the table to join them. Each of them looking over the picture of the man.

Jaylon lifted the picture to study it closer. “I can’t see that on here.”

“It’s not,” Paula said, assurance in her face and voice. “I saw it when I was looking at his back in my mind. It’s small, about the size of a quarter, and usually almost unnoticeable, because he keeps his hair long to cover it.” She pointed to the man in the picture’s right side where the hair covered his ear. “But the last night I saw Art, the man across from him had his hair shoved up in a blue and yellow striped knit stocking cap. Like he was trying to hide who he was. I forgot he had a birthmark when I’d glanced his way. But it was there, right where I’d seen Stephen’s once.”

Brianna and Aaron looked at each other

“Blue and yellow,” Brianna said.

Aaron slowly nodded. “Like the team up North’s colors, just like Carmen told us.”

“Who’s Carmen?” Kirk F asked.

“A homeless woman who saw the journalist with Kyle. Said he wore an ugly colored hat. Michigan’s colors.”

“Stephen Armbruster,” Jaylon read the name on the license. Then he quickly flipped through the lists of volunteers he’d gotten from several of the other homeless shelters. “He’s there on three other lists.”

“What’s the address?” Aaron asked, pulling his phone out.

“1127 Ramona Ave in Lakewood.” Shit. They’d have to get the suburban cops involved. The captain wasn’t going to like that.

“Kirk F,” Aaron called, and the kid was at his elbow with his laptop. “See if you can find out if this guy works in any of the local blood banks.”

“And hospitals,” Katie said.

“Gonna take me a minute,” Kirk F said, sitting by Paula once more typing away on his computer. She spelled out the last name to him and the pair worked on searching their lists.

Aaron moved back into the living room and signaled Jaylon and the others to join him.

“How do you want to handle this?” Jaylon asked.

“If Kirk F can get us a name of where he’s employed, we’re going to need to hit both that place and his residence at the same time,” Aaron said.

“You want to take SWAT to his home and a quieter group to his work?” Jaylon asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go with SWAT and you take the warrants division with you. That way we have experienced takedown people at both places.”

“You should also consider sending people into the homeless community to look for him,” Carson said. “He may be out hunting for his next victim, since he got so much media attention from this one.”

“Patrol can handle that,” Jaylon suggested.

Aaron nodded, hitting the buttons on his phone. “First, we bring in Stedaman and get warrants ASAP.”

As he walked into the other room to talk with their captain, Jaylon picked up the photo of Armbruster’s license and went to the far side of the kitchen to call in the All Points Bulletin. He’d need the man’s stated height and weight for the APB, as well as the description of the white van with the fake city logo on the sides, just in case the guy hadn’t removed the decals. Who knows? Maybe they’d get lucky and someone would pull him over with evidence inside the van.

“You’re staying in the SUV,” Aaron said again as he, Carson, and Brianna waited for Captain Stedaman and the SWAT team’s van to arrive. They’d contacted the local suburban police to give them a heads up about the raid they were about to make on Stephen Armbruster’s home. Two of the local’s squad cars sat at opposite ends of the block where the house was located.

“Yes, sir,” Brianna said, and he could hear a trace