“Fine,” Kate said. “Can you send me the names of everybody who it looks like he’s contacted?” With that agreed to, she hung up and hopped to her feet. Looking around at the team, she said, “That jumper scenario—”
“The one with the threatening note?” Lilliana asked.
“Yeah, they tracked an email address down on the chats, and they feel that, through various chats, this guy has had communication with thirteen confirmed jumpers in the Lower Mainland.” At that point she had their full attention.
“And he’s pushing people to commit suicide?”
“That’s why I’m asking for copies of all the chat records,” she said, “but, according to Bronwyn in Forensics, yes. What we don’t know is whether there are also any private emails. Of course we expect there to be but Forensics doesn’t have a handle on any private DM addresses. That’s something we need to contact the relatives for, to see if we can get a hold of their laptops.”
Lilliana nodded slowly. “Why does that number sound familiar?”
Rodney stood and looked at Kate. “Thirteen.”
She stared at him, puzzled.
He said, “Check your phone.”
“What do you mean?”
“What was that number Simon texted you again?”
She stared at them, the color fading from her cheeks, before she whispered, “Thirteen. He keeps telling methirteen.”
“Jesus,” Lilliana said. “We need to have a talk with him.”
“I’ll talk to him later,” Kate said, shoving it down deep inside. “Only so much I can deal with at once. We’re waiting on Forensics for this lead now, so let’s go talk to Tex, our possible drive-by shooter. By the way, ballistics matched our current shooting with the one from three years ago.” And, with that, she led the way out the door.
Rodney raced to catch up with her. “That’s got to be what the thirteen is.”
She nodded, but she didn’t say anything.
“Will you ask him about it?”
“No,” she said, “not right now.”
“Trouble in paradise,” he said. “I knew it.”
“The only problem in paradise,” she said, “is being with a psychic, who is very tormented by his visions.”
At that, Rodney winced. “You know what? I can see that. Do you want to be the one on the other end of these crazy phone calls or these crazy messages?”
“No,” she snapped. “I really don’t.”
He nodded. “Okay, so let’s park that for now. Clearly you’re pretty good at compartmentalizing, and let’s focus on this kid and the shootings. What the hell would be his motive? Because, you know, that’s what kept me awake in the night. I don’t understand why somebody would want anything to do with these drive-by shootings.”
“It’s a hands-off way of getting payback, but we don’t know payback from what or from who,” she said. “But sometimes motives seem awfully thin.”
“Meaning that a motive may not be enough for you and me but seems to be enough to trigger the perp?”
“Yes,” she said, with a shrug. “When you think about it, you know, we’re all different people. We don’t understand how people can do some of this twisted-up shit that they’re doing, buttheydo. And, as long as we have enough proof to explain it to the DA, then it doesn’t really matter what we think of it. We’re doing our job anyway.”
He nodded. “I get it,” he said. “We’re doing our job, even when we don’t necessarily understand it.”
“Maybe you should drive,” she muttered.
“Yeah, you think?” he said, as he walked over to his car. “Sounds like a good idea.”
With that, he unlocked the vehicle, and she got in on the passenger side. She pulled up the address that they had been given. “Interesting. East Hastings.”