“I just saw Nesbitt go into the house,” Matt said. “He was carrying two bags—one from Burger King and one from the hardware store.”

Jeffrey felt his stomach grip into a fist. The hammer had been left inside of Leslie Truong. The killer would need a replacement.

Matt said, “Daryl was driving an older model cargo van, a charcoal GMC Savana. License plate 499 XVM.”

Brad started typing. He said, “It’s registered to Vincent John Abbott.”

“Axle, the stepfather,” Frank said. “I confirmed he’s been locked up in Wheeler for the last three months.”

Matt told them, “The basement’s fully underground. No exterior entry, but it looks like it’s got two hoppers on each side.”

Hoppers were narrow windows that hinged open to circulate fresh air. They were too small for an adult to fit through, even a small woman.

Matt said, “I’m driving off, but I got a peek inside the garage. The door is open. Looks like there’s a wheeled tool cart inside, maybe five feet by five, stacked with drawers. Green and yellow stripes.”

Frank said, “That’s the colors Brawleigh uses.”

Brawleigh, the same brand of hammer found inside of Leslie Truong.

Access to the murder weapon.

Jeffrey checked the last page on the printer. The plat showed the size of the lot and the position of the house. There were two outbuildings. One was a detached garage on the living room side of the house. The other was a 10x10 shed approximately fifteen feet from the back door.

He told Matt, “There’s a shed in the back.”

“I can’t see it from the street.”

“It’s behind the house.” Jeffrey referenced the street map on the wall. He looked above the yellow Post-it note. “You got your binoculars?”

On the speakerphone, he could hear Matt moving around. A click. A glovebox slamming closed. “Yep.”

“There’s a road that goes behind Bennett, Valley Ridge. The lots are short. Maybe you can see the backyard from there.”

“Driving around now,” Matt said.

“We’ll stay on the line.”

They could hear the road noise as Matt drove around the block. His police scanner was turned down low. He cleared his throat. The brakes groaned at the stop sign. His hands rubbed along the steering wheel as he took the turn.

The tension was almost unbearable. They were all staring at the phone, waiting. Brad had turned in his chair. Lena was leaning forward in a runner’s stance. Frank was sitting with his hands gripped tightly together. There were eight men on patrol right now. Two had been sent to search the woods behind the college. That left Jeffrey with ten bodies to move around the board.

He checked through the list he’d been cataloging in his head.

Sex offender. Criminal history. Proximity to the crime scenes. Known to Caterino and Truong. Access to a dark van. Access to the murder weapon. Worked at the U-Store close to the fire road.

The detail about the van had come from Tommi Humphrey. She hadn’t made an official statement. The U-Store was a loose connection based on a nickname. Daryl’s number being in the phones of two victims could be explained by his weed trafficking.

Jeffrey had enough probable cause to justify knocking on Daryl Nesbitt’s door, but not enough to bust it down. He couldn’t risk this animal skating on a technicality.

He added another detail:

Rosario Lopez. Student. Missing for five hours.

A drop of sweat rolled down his back. Jeffrey had no connection between Daryl and Rosario Lopez. He had a gut feeling, but there wasn’t a judge in town who would sign off on his gut.

His eyes went back to the desk phone. Matt had coughed again. This was taking too long. Woodland Hills was three miles from where they stood. Had Jeffrey sent one of his detectives to circle around the neighborhood while Rosario Lopez was being tortured, paralyzed, raped?

His stomach was clenched so hard that the muscles spasmed.

Tommi Humphrey had told Jeffrey what the killer was capable of. Leslie Truong’s body illustrated in excruciating detail exactly how sadistic the man could be. How could all these cops be standing around when another young woman might be feeling a metal awl piercing her neck?

“I’m here,” Matt finally said. “Got my binoculars. I can see the top of the shed. Roof’s sloped like a ski jump and, shit—”

The brakes squealed over the phone.

Matt said, “The shed has a window in the back. It’s painted over, but it’s got security bars over the glass and—fuck me. I can see the door on the side. It’s got metal bars, too. There’s a padlock.”

Jeffrey felt the tension in the room stretch as taut as a noose.

Rosario Lopez could be locked inside of that shed.

Matt said, “You want me to go in?”

“Not yet.” Jeffrey wasn’t going to send him in alone. He returned to the wall map. He traced his finger along the route. “Park on Hollister. If Nesbitt leaves the house, that’s his only route out of the neighborhood. Keep the line open. You need to hear this.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Marla,” Jeffrey said. “Cell phones only. I need Landry, Cheshire, Dawson, Lam, Hendricks, and Schoeder. Tell them to stage at Matt’s location. Lights but no sirens.”

Marla swung around to her phone.

Jeffrey cleared off the closest desk with a sweep of his arm. Papers and pens scattered onto the floor. Jeffrey laid out the drawings of the house—front elevation, first floor, second floor, plat. He found a pen. “Everybody follow what I’m saying because you’re in charge of your team. Matt?”

“Still here.”

“You’re with Hendricks. I want you both backing me up at the front door, keeping an eye on the windows and hoppers on the side of the house. We need some distance. I don’t want Nesbitt to panic.”

Matt said, “There’s a car parked across the street from his front door. We can take cover behind it.”

“Good,” Jeffrey said. “Lena, you’re knocking on the door.”

She looked stunned.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He took her through it. “You’ll knock on the door. You’ll tell Nesbitt you’re there because of the ticket on the expired license.”

The shock slightly abated. If there was one thing the county knew about Jeffrey Tolliver, it was that he was an asshole about motor vehicle violations. The fines made up half of the department’s budget.

He told Lena, “Keep him calm. Tell him it’s routine, nothing to worry about. You’re there to take him down to the station and he can either pay the fine or bond himself out in an hour. If he comes, great. If he refuses, then let him go.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “Sir?”

“We need probable cause to enter that house.” Jeffrey chose his words carefully. “Felix just confirmed that Daryl sold pot to Caterino and Truong. Could be, you smell weed on Daryl when he opens the door. Or maybe you hear a noise inside. We need to be able to clearly articulate to the district attorney our reason for going into that house.”

Lena slowly nodded. Of everyone in the room, she knew what he was asking.

“Lena, if you believe there’s probable cause to enter the house, then give me the signal and step away. I’m first through the door.” Jeffrey found the drawing of the main floor. He made an X in the center of the hallway. “Lena, this is the chokepoint. If Nesbitt goes down the basement stairs or up the stairs to the second floor, you’ll be able to see them from this spot.”

Lena pressed together her lips. She nodded.

“Coat closet.” He drew a circle. “Don’t put your back to it unless you’ve checked inside. Windows, doors and hands, right?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Brad,” Jeffrey tapped his pen to the kitchen door. “You’re in charge of the rear of the house. You’ll set up with Landry. Approach from the Valley Ridge side. Keep an eye on the side windows. No one gets out.”

Brad looked terrified, but he said, “Yes, Chief.”

“We’ll put Dawson and Cheshire on either end of Bennett Street. Schoeder and Lam will block off Valley Ridge in case he makes it that far. Frank, I want you to secure the shed.”

Frank’s jaw was set.

Jeffrey gripped Frank’s shoulder to remind him who was in charge. He didn’t have time for bruised egos, and he wasn’t going to lose Daryl Nesbitt because Frank couldn’t run more than twenty steps without losing his breath. “If Rosario Lopez is in that shed, I don’t want anyone else finding her.”

Frank wasn’t buying it. “And what if when Lena knocks, Nesbitt opens the front door, sees what’s up, grabs Lena and takes her hostage?”

“Then I’ll put a bullet in his head before he can shut the door.”

Jeffrey took his keys out of his pocket as he walked toward the armory. He pulled out two shotguns, shells, cartridges, speed loaders, Kevlar vests, and passed them around.