Page 35 of Fatal Pattern

They followed Stone through the exit door into a narrow hallway that led to the parking garage. The door clicked shut behind them.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Tori asked as they walked toward Blade’s Charger.

“Yeah.” Blade turned and studied the benign-looking door. “I’m thinking we might have just met our killer.”

10

Tori slid into the passenger seat of Blade’s Charger, her mind crackling like a live wire. The professional analyst in her was already connecting dots. The Keplerian fractal drawing lifted from Florek’s blotter wasn’t just some random symbol. It was a thread that tied Donald Florek to Damien Sullivan and his nonsensical warnings about patterns and her parents’ murder.

Were they nonsensical? Maybe not if Dr. Anton Stone also studied fractals.

Fractals.

That one word seemed to tie all three together.

And underneath it all, something darker pulsed. A recognition she couldn’t place.

“The connections are there,” Blade said, starting the engine.

“You’re reading my mind.” She yanked the seat belt across her chest and clicked it. “Funny thing, though. Dr. Stone drops ‘fractals’ like he’s been studying them for years. But me? First time that word ever hit my ears was yesterday. Out of Damien Sullivan’s mouth.”

“Can’t be coincidence,” Blade said. “Stone claims he became interested in fractals because, well, I assume because of his patient, but he didn’t actually say.”

“I’d say you’ve found your number one suspect.” Tori angled the vent until the blast of cold air hit her face.

“Stone’s definitely a person of interest, but I’m not ready to turn the guy’s life upside down over fractal talk.”

Tori looked out the side window. Stone hadn’t hesitated. He’d pulled out that crystal butterfly and offered up the explanation before they’d even asked the right questions.

“If he’s the killer, he’s a narcissist,” she said. “Telling us about the fractals after looking at the drawing would practically be a confession.”

“Still, I’ll have a deputy run a background check,” Blade said. “If he’s not the killer, what’s the connection?”

She slid her notebook out of her purse. “What if Dr. Stone had a patient tied to my parents’ murders?”

“You mean like Sullivan?” Blade lifted his brow. “You’re thinking he’s our link between past and present.”

“I’m thinking we’ve stepped into something big, but without the case file, nada.” She scribbled notes on the page. “Stone counsels someone tied to fractals. Damien mentions fractals in connection with my parents’ case. And Florek ends up dead right after seeing Stone about threats . . .”

Blade’s phone strobed against the dash. The name “Wells” burned across the screen. He answered on speaker. “Agent Wells. You’re on speaker. I’ve got Dr. Crew with me.” A quick glance at Tori. “Talk to me.”

“Blade, hey—hope you’re caffeinated, because I’ve got news.” Wells’s voice boomed out cheerful as ever, like he was announcing a surprise party instead of calling from the Bureau. “Bad news, actually.”

Tori’s stomach tightened. That tone. A sugarcoat over decay.

“Dr. Forest’s dead,” Wells continued. “Found in his holding cell this morning. Stab wounds. We have another inmate in custody for it.”

Blade’s eyes cut to Tori, and she shook her head in disbelief.

“He wasn’t in state custody?”

“Correct. They transferred him yesterday to the federal courthouse for jury selection. He was in the holding facility there. He didn’t make it to the courtroom.” Wells rattled it off like a weather report. “Shame. Guy had answers we needed. But that’s how it shakes out.”

Blade’s breath came sharp through his nose. “Any chance this locks the chain on the organ harvesting ring?”

“Hard to say yet,” Wells said. “What I can say is that it doesn’t look great for me as head of the task force when a key witness dies before trial.” He paused. “But don’t wear it, Detective. Keep that chin up. I’ll be in touch, and we’ll convene the task force soon. Trust me—we’ll get there.”

The line clicked dead.