Reed nodded, looking around. There was a cat food bowl half full of kibble near the end of the hall. If it was in fact Charles Hartsman who’d been living there and impersonating the old man, calling in tips to Reed and who knew what the fuck else, then he’d also fed the cat.
Apparently, his father didn’t abide by the starvation of animals.
Only co-eds.
Reed felt himself reeling.
Compartmentalize, Davies.
As he glanced toward the room he knew to be Gordon Draper’s office, something came back to Reed, a moment that had felt wrong to him though at the time he couldn’t explain to himself why. I failed, Gordon Draper had said as he’d gazed at the photograph of his grandson, Everett. Not I failed him. But I failed.
Those words had repeated in his head after he’d left his house. They hadn’t quite fit.
Had Gordon Draper meant that he hadn’t created the monster he’d sought to?
At least not in that particular grandson.
“He has an endgame,” Reed murmured, looking up at Ransom. “That’s what Charles Hartsman said yesterday.”
What’s his endgame do you think, son? Have you read the conclusion to those comics?
“He was giving me another tip.”
“Are you sure he was trying to help you? And if so, why?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
Ransom glanced down the hall as a second team of criminalists entered the house. “Didn’t you order those last three Tribulation issues?”
“Yeah. They should be at the station by now.”
“Let’s go get them,” Ransom said. “And hope Jennifer’s got something for us by the time we get there.”
They walked toward the front door. Charles Hartsman had obviously accomplished his goal. He’d killed the psychopath who had murdered his mother. Why would he try to help Reed with this case now? He had no good answer for that.
Compartmentalize, Reed reminded himself yet again. He had to. This was his job, and he had a feeling things were only going to swing further sideways.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Reed disconnected the call, tossing his cell in the center console. “Uniforms are on their way to Sabrina McPhee’s apartment and Milo Ortiz’s house.”
Just as he set it down, Ransom’s phone rang and Reed heard him greet Jennifer, saying a silent prayer that she had something useful for them. “Hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker,” Ransom said.
“Jennifer,” Reed said as soon as Ransom held his phone up between them.
“Hi. All right. Every available officer in the city is looking for Axel Draper. I pulled up everything I could on him. Twenty-seven years old, lives in Loveland, alone from what I can tell. He worked at a security company until about six months ago when he quit suddenly, and unexpectedly, according to his boss there.”
“Six months ago,” Reed said. “That corresponds with his brother’s suicide.”
“Yep. The boss I spoke with said he was severely broken up about it. He took some time off for the funeral and then called and said he wasn’t coming back.”
“Huh. Okay. And he hasn’t worked since then?”
“No. But he doesn’t necessarily need to either as he has quite a nice settlement from his parents’ estate.”
“Right. His parents died when he was a kid. That’s why he and his brother went to live with their grandfather.”
“Who must have been at the height of his serial killing career.”
“Five angels mistakenly sent to hell,” Reed murmured, thinking back to Draper’s laptop now in evidence. What the boys had experienced in that house, the things they’d seen . . . that had to be the reason for Everett Draper’s suicide. He’d never recovered . . . and in a different way, neither had Axel.
“I had some uniforms swing by his address, but no one was home, and they said it appears severely neglected. Grass up to their knees, and when they looked in the windows, there were dirty dishes on all the surfaces they could see.”
He’d had some sort of breakdown, Reed thought. Had his brother’s suicide been the final straw in what was an already shaky mental stability? And what was beyond the doors of that house? In the garage? Basement? An eyeball removal surgery setup? Christ. “We need to get a warrant,” he told Jennifer.
“I agree. I’ll get on that right away.”
“Okay, good.” Something suddenly occurred to Reed. “Jennifer, what was the name of the security company he worked at?”
“Um, let me see . . . ShieldSafe.”
Reed’s heart gave a small jolt. “That’s an alarm company, right?”
“Uh . . .” It sounded like she was typing something into a search engine. “Yeah. It is.