“The description popped up for a man named Ian Bolger of Eastwood, Oklahoma.It looks like he dropped off the face of the map about a month after Cox was jailed for the second time.Stopped paying his rent, defaulted on his credit card bills, and essentially went off the grid.Oklahoma was about to declare him dead when we called them for his records.”
“Where is he?”Kate asked, no longer quite able to hide her impatience.
“Right!Sorry!He’s In Baltimore.”
Kate’s eyes widened.“In Baltimore now?Still?”
“Yes, we think so.A man named Walter Larret rented a vehicle yesterday morning.The description I got from the rental company matches Ian Bolger.Walter Larret also rented a hotel room in the city, and according to the hotel, he hasn’t checked out.He hasn’t returned the vehicle either.”
Kate and Marcus looked at each other.
“I’ll call Baltimore PD and have them raid the hotel room,” Marcus said.
“Call the airport too,” Kate said.“Make sure they’re watching the rental car place.Put an APB out on the vehicle too.Thank you, Poppy.”
“Of course!Good luck, Kate!I’msoglad I could help.I really think you’re just the—”
“Tell me later, Poppy.Got to get back to work.”
“Right.Got it.Good luck!Oh, I uh, already said that, didn’t I?”
Kate hung up, then grabbed her laptop and pushed the photographs aside, setting the laptop on the table and pulling up Google Maps.Marcus gave her a quizzical look while he rang the police, and she explained, “He’s still here in Baltimore.That letter opener’s pointing somewhere inside the city.”
She searched for Patricia Lowe’s address and zoomed out, then traced a line northwest from the house in the direction indicated by the letter opener.She continued to zoom out until the line passed through something promising about six miles from Lowe’s house.
Marcus saw what she was looking at and frowned.“St.Anselm’s Cathedral.”
“That’s it,” she said, opening another tab and entering the church’s name in the search box.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Marcus said, “but let’s not jump right to that conclusion just because it’s a church.It could be pointing to any number of places in between Lowe’s home and the church or any number of places beyond.”
“Do you think it’s pointing to a random location, Marcus?”Kate asked, clicking on a link.Her blood froze, and she had to swallow to open her suddenly tight throat.“Or do you think it’s pointing at the former Church of St.Simon and St.Jude?”
Marcus’s eyes widened.“Oh, shit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The remnants of the tacos al pastor Kate had eaten while working on this map rose in her throat, searing her tongue with the sweet zest of pineapple and serrano chili.She hadn’t tasted the tacos when she was eating them, but the spice stung her now, sending bright smoke up her nostrils and watering her eyes.
The heat in her sinuses blossomed into flame, pulsing with each beat of her heart.Just like the bloom from the muzzle of a gun.Just like the blood spouting from her father’s chest as he fell to the steps of the first St.Simon and St.Jude, the church in Portland that Cox had nearly burnt down over both of them nearly two years ago.
Cox had taken her to another St.Simon and St.Jude, this one in New York, less than a year after that first event.He’d tried to convince her to join him, to persuade her of the necessity of her sacrifice.She’d rejected him, and he’d threatened to have his disciple kill her mother.Thanks to Marcus, he’d failed, but it was a near thing, a last-minute realization on Kate’s part combined with hubris on Cox’s part.
Now he wanted her again, once more at St.Simon and St.Jude, once more to try to complete the cycle, to finish the work he’d begun.A voice inside of Kate asked if that would be so horrible.An end to it all.An end to Cox.An end to the death.An end to the cycle of killing.It was a small voice, barely audible, but wasn’t the voice of God supposed to be still and small?
She knew that Marcus was talking to her, but she didn’t hear him.The blood rushed through her ears, and the taste of the chili and pineapple retreated before a wave of bile.
He placed a hand on her, and her senses rushed toward him like a drowning woman clutching a life raft.“Kate.Kate, it’s okay.Listen to me.It’s all right.We’re going to call Winters.We’re going to meet Cox with a tactical team.No going in alone.No giving him what he wants.No letting him have control.We do this the right way.”
Kate nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak, the bile would rise all the way up and spew from her mouth.Marcus kept a hand on her arm, perhaps sensing that he was the only thing keeping her from unraveling, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Hey, boss.We got him.A church in Baltimore.St.Anselm’s.Used to be called St.Simon and St.Jude.”
Spots formed in Kate’s eyes, and she realized she hadn’t taken a breath in over a minute.She risked one, and the bile rose right to the edge of her throat, but not all the way out.
“We mapped evidence from the crime scene,” Marcus explained.“There are clear signs that Cox is leading Kate to that church.It matches the name of the previous two churches too, so we have precedence.”
Kate reached for Marcus’s arm.Relief weakened her knees when her fingertips sensed the fine hairs and firm musculature of his forearm, and she had to grab the edge of the table with her other hand to keep from sinking to the floor.
