Read Karen Vail 01 - Velocity for Free Online

assuming he survives, is never going to see the light of day, and wil very likely get the death penalty.”
    “Trust me,” Merilynn said. “I’ve got information you need. “But if I give it to you, I want something in return. The safety of me and my son. That’s the price.”
    Vail and Dixon shared a look.
    Dixon said, “If we’re going to submit a request for WITSEC, we real y need to know what you’ve got. And we need to know what Ray was involved with, what was going on between him and Mayfield.”
    “While you’re at it,” Vail said, “you might also want to tel us why you think you need protection.” She didn’t mean for it to come off as sarcastic—but given al she’d been through recently, her tone wasn’t a top priority. She knew that wasn’t a healthy approach, but she was too tired and emotional y drained to care.
    Merilynn set her jaw. She either did not appreciate the weight of her request, or she didn’t believe that getting into the WITSEC program involved anything more than stating that you needed it.
    With the silence growing, Vail knew she had to do something to get Merilynn talking. She had to treat the woman as if she was a suspect being interviewed. If she could establish a rapport and break down the barrier, the information they needed might come tumbling out.
    “I was kidnapped once,” Vail said. “I was drugged. When I woke up, I was in handcuffs in a smal , dark place. Is that what happened to you? Did Mayfield drug you?”
    Merilynn tilted her head and studied Vail’s face.
    Is she trying to determine if I’m lying to her?
    “It was a couple months ago,” Vail said. “I’ve had some . . . issues trying to get past it.”
    “He didn’t drug us,” Merilynn said. “He came up behind my son, grabbed him, and held a knife to his neck. Ray said it was al about control.” She swiped at a tear.
    “With that knife at Mario’s neck, what was I gonna do?” Her face spread into a wan smile. “Anything he wanted, that’s what.”
    “I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” Dixon said.
    Vail shivered imperceptibly. I can. I know what it’s like to have your son used as a pawn against you, powerless to help him.
    “It was paralyzing,” Merilynn said. “The guy, he was big and mean and serious.
    He just had this look about him. He said to keep my mouth shut. I kept it shut, didn’t even breathe.” She sat there a moment, staring at the table. “Everything was like a tunnel. Al I could see was my son with the knife at his neck. Al I could hear was that man’s voice.”
    “The man was John Mayfield?” Vail asked.

    Merilynn bent forward and pressed on both temples with her fingers. “I didn’t know who he was back then. Ray kept asking me what he looked like, but I couldn’t remember. I was so freaked out, I never looked at his face.”
    “What happened next?” Brix asked. “After Mayfield kidnapped you, did he take you somewhere?”
    “He had a van. He put us inside and made us wear blindfolds. We drove for what seemed like an hour. He made so many turns I had no idea where we were.”
    Even though John Mayfield was in custody, knowing the location of his lair was important. Serial kil ers often did not keep their trophies, or keepsakes from their victims, at their homes, but at some other location that either had meaning or geographic and logistic convenience for them. With unanswered questions lingering, his base of operations might yield additional information to the unnamed victims Mayfield had listed and included in his communication with the police. And possibly even forensic clues relevant to Robby.
    “Did you smel anything?” Dixon asked, clearly on the same wavelength. “Hear anything?”
    “The train, I heard the train whistle. It was off in the distance, but I heard it.” She closed her eyes. “And I smel ed must.”
    Vail cocked her head. “Wait—what did you say? Must?”
    “A by-product of the early stages of making wine,” Brix