“You notice he didn’t want us to search Rexford.”
“He said it was a waste of time. I didn’t get the impression he was trying to stop us.”
“He stopped by Rebecca’s house that night. Something happened. They arranged to meet later. Something.” Jason sipped his coffee.
“You’re like a dog with a bone on this. And it’s pure speculation.”
“It’s not pure speculation. He did stop by her house. They did speak. And there are no witnesses as to what was said.”
“But there are witnesses to the fact that Rebecca returned to the party afterward.” Kennedy, in the process of doctoring his own coffee, didn’t even look
up.
“And a short time later, she vanished without a word to anyone. That could indicate an attempt at secrecy. Which means mine is a reasonable assumption.”
Kennedy laughed. “Is it? I don’t agree. I don’t find that a very likely scenario.”
“You’re the one who first suggested it.”
Kennedy made a sound. Not quite a growl and not quite a groan, but one hundred percent aggravation.
“All right,” he said. “Explain to me the lapse in killings. If your theory is that Boxner was Pink’s disciple—”
“I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t think Pink had a disciple.”
“Then what are you saying? What triggered Boxner’s slip into homicidal mania? There hasn’t been a murder here in ten years. So what set Boxner off?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was something specific to his relationship to Rebecca.”
“Which appears to be largely nonexistent.”
Jason said stubbornly, “I know I’m on to something with this.”
Kennedy closed his eyes as though in pain. Or in a visible attempt to hang on to his patience. “You don’t think maybe you’re a little biased when it comes to Officer Boxner?”
“You were the first one to bring up the possibility that our unsub might be someone involved in the original investigation.”
“On the periphery of the investigation. Not directly involved. I was not accusing a member of Kingsfield PD. And I certainly wasn’t accusing Officer Boxner who was only slightly older than you at the time of the first homicide.”
Right. Because demographics indicated that the majority of serial offenders were most active between the ages of twenty-seven and forty-five, with first kills originating typically in the early twenties. There were plenty of exceptions. Hell, there were even exceptions in Kennedy’s own impressive list of successfully closed cases. Female serial killers, child serial killers, geriatric serial killers. If anyone should be familiar with the colorful varieties of serial killers, it was Kennedy.
So yes, maybe Jason was predisposed to suspect the worst of Boxner, but didn’t Kennedy also have a blind spot in being unwilling to even consider the involvement of law enforcement in this case?
“You really think I can’t separate my personal feelings from the job?” Jason asked.
“I think you sincerely try.”
“Thanks for giving me that much,” Jason said shortly.
“It’s human nature,” Kennedy said. “You have cause for not liking Boxner. There’s considerable antipathy between you. It’s reasonable that you believe he’s capable of these other acts. He believes you’re capable of these other acts. You’re going to have to trust me on this. He’s not our guy. He doesn’t fit the profile.”
“Which profile? The original profile is irrelevant.”
“It’s not irrelevant.” That was the old Kennedy. Short and sharp.
“Maybe not irrelevant, but this profile, the profile you’re working on now, is largely composed of someone trying to copy the earlier profile. Right?”
Kennedy didn’t miss a beat. “That’s not Boxner. Right there, that is not in his psychological makeup. And secondly, that’s one theory. Yours. I’m not convinced.”