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“I’m fine,” Coulter replied, but the growl from his stomach made a liar out of him.
Saige grinned. “Please sit and eat. There’s a lot of food, and fresh coffee.”
Coulter hesitated before he sat opposite them. “I guess I can’t refuse coffee after the night I’ve had.”
Saige frowned. “What’s happened?”
He glanced between them and, after taking a drink of his coffee, announced, “Another body was found last night.”
Saige glanced at Alex but he held Coulter’s gaze, so she asked, “Who?”
“Tracy Adams.”
“Fuck,” Alex hissed between his teeth.
“You know her?” Saige asked.
Alex breathed deeply and glanced at her. “Yes, I knew her.” He dropped his forehead into his hands. “We went to school together and used to be...to be,”—he sucked in a breath—“fuck buddies for want of a better description.”
“The sheriff told me that last night, but what else can you tell me, Alex? You had a connection to Jocelyn, Fern, and Tracy. All three are dead.”
“I honestly don’t know.” His eyes bore into Coulter’s and he looked physically sick. “Could the person who took Saige be the one doing all this? I don’t know why women I know are being targeted, but it sure as fuck isn’t me.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Alex. I’m just pointing out that you’re connected to all three victims...the three that we know about,” Coulter added.
Saige had gone cold as she listened to the men talk about death and connections. She was so tired of thinking, of trying to remember something significant to help save Quinten. Her brain just wanted to rest.
“Why would someone go after Alex?” Saige questioned. “Quinten is the one in prison so I don’t understand why someone would go after you.” She met Alex’s gaze before looking at Coulter. “Do you have a theory?”
Coulter leaned forward and frowned, resting his arms on the table. “I have my theories,” he said quietly as he assessed Alex.
Saige wondered if he thought Alex was the murderer. She stared at the man but she couldn’t see it in Alex. She trusted him, even though she didn’t really know him.
“There was a difference to both Fern and Tracy’s murders, but because of the connection to Alex, it’s too much of a coincidence for it to be more than one killer.” Coulter said quietly. “I just don’t know the why. If it is a serial killer, why change the modus operandi now. I assume that the killer went to sleep…went back to his life and has woken up, but why not attack college girls again in the same manner? Why have his victims changed and how he kills them? Unless we have a copycat, or someone who is tied to Alex in some way.” It was clear that Coulter had forgotten they were in the room and was just spit balling his theories in an effort to see which one sounded plausible.
It was horrifying and exciting to watch at the same time. The man’s mind was sharply tuned for his profession. The detective shook his head, his eyes clearing as he stared at Alex. “That is, presuming that it’s the same person…the more questions asked, the more tangled this case becomes.”
Saige felt her stomach drop to her knees at Coulter’s assessment of the situation. She wanted to hold on to the killer being the same person, but what if his end game was to finish what he started?
Coulter watched Alex, and Saige turned to him and offered her hand.
“Have you seen Tracy since you’ve been in town, Alex?” Coulter asked.
She felt a slight twitch in Alex’s body at the question, which caused her to frown, but Alex answered, “I bumped into her outside the pharmacy in town the day before yesterday. She flirted. It was a brief exchange before I followed Saige inside to talk to Agnes.”
“I didn’t see her.” Saige frowned.
“It was just after you’d gone inside...Paul Lewis saw us talking, and the barbershop guys did. The old guys don’t miss anything, plus I saw them turned in my direction after she left and I went into the store.”
Coulter nodded, and Saige wondered whether or not he picked up that Alex wasn’t being totally honest.
“Do you think that we have enough to go to the governor to get a stay?” Saige asked Coulter. “Alex thinks it’s worthwhile asking Daniel Sterling to get the papers ready.”
“Hmm, maybe.” Coulter mumbled as he quickly added sausage to a piece of toast and made a sandwich. “You have my cell number, Saige, so message me Daniel’s email address and I’ll send a formal report to him to be included.”
“I’ll send it to you,” Saige agreed.
Coulter nodded. “Thank you for breakfast but I need to go.” He stood and shoved the chair back under the table, his sandwich in the other hand. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. I’ll text you a time when I know I’ll be free.”
