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“Of course. Many times.”
“Have you ever gotten all five questions correct?” asked Noah.
“Most of the time, yes. We came up with the questions. Sometimes we do one on the show and intentionally miss something so we can demonstrate what happens when you don’t know something. We want to show couples how to move forward from there, especially if it’s a big question. It’s playful and fun. That’s the point. Getting deeper and closer doesn’t have to be this painful therapeutic process. Sometimes you can get there the fun way.”
Josie raised a brow. “Is that what you tell your patients?”
Beau waved a dismissive hand. “Of course not. There are some issues that need to be addressed via the therapeutic process. Our method is not a catch-all.”
Noah said, “What’s your book called?Winning at Love?”
“Perfect Pursuit,” said Beau. “The subtitle isWinning at Love. It’s about always pursuing your partner as though you were still trying to win them over, like you were still dating. And, like I said, using play to grow closer and more intimate. You ‘win’ at love if you are always striving to be closer to your partner and maintain that intimacy.”
He stopped talking and took a deep breath. Scanning the room, the earnestness that had lit up his face while talking about the show leaked away, replaced by sadness. His eyes grew glassy again. Blinking hard, he looked back toward Josie and Noah. “Listen, officers. I’m exhausted. I’ve had the worst day of my life. I just want to go home. Well, not home, but somewhere to rest.”
Josie said, “I think that’s all for tonight anyway. We will need to meet with your staff at the WYEP studio though, the sooner, the better.”
“Of course. I’m going to call an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning at the studio. You could come then if you’d like. Meet everyone, talk with them. Whatever you need to do.”
He stood up and put on his jacket. His eyes were glued to the photo of the gift box. Fear flashed across his face.
Josie stood as well and handed him a business card. She said, “Mr. Collins, the killer went to great lengths to stage the scene. He left this box in Claudia’s hand. We don’t know why yet but there is a chance that he isn’t finished.”
Both of Beau’s brows shot up. “Finished with what?”
“It’s impossible for us to say.” She leaned over so that she could reach the photo. She tapped her index finger against it, then met his eyes again. “He specifically referenced the puzzle box from your show. If he doesn’t feel he’s made his point with this, then he may try something else.”
A look of horror stretched across Beau’s face. “Like what?”
Noah said, “Playing a game.”
THIRTEEN
Back in the great room, Mettner was gone but Hummel stood at Josie’s desk, two paper evidence bags in his hands. “Boss,” he said when she and Noah walked in. “I’ve got something for you.”
Josie walked over and cleared a space on her desk. Noah stood next to her while Hummel snapped on some gloves and dumped the contents of the first bag. The splintered remains of the puzzle box tumbled out. Its oak and red wood was stained black with the remnants of fingerprint powder. Hummel caught the shiny ball bearing before it rolled off the table.
Noah peered down at it, one brow raised. “Couldn’t get it open, could you?”
Hummel looked insulted. “You can clearly see that I did, in fact, get it open.”
“With what?” Josie asked. “A hammer?”
Hummel scoffed. “You think I’m a barbarian? No. A rubber mallet.”
Noah snorted.
Josie said. “Okay, what did you find?”
“Well, for one thing, I only got one usable print from the bottom of it, but it didn’t get any hits in AFIS.” AFIS, or the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, was a database maintained by the FBI that held the prints of people with criminal records or people who had been arrested, as well as and prints from unknown persons found at crime scenes. “I did get elimination prints from Beau Collins since he is a resident in the house. The print did not belong to him.”
He picked up the oak section of the box and ran his index finger along a rectangular compartment. It was no bigger than two inches across and one inch deep. “As you can see, there’s a little room to hide something.” He picked up the other bag and shook the contents out onto the desk. It was a six-inch by nine-inch piece of paper which Hummel had placed into a plastic sheet. It, too, was stained with fingerprint powder.
Noah said, “What is it?”
“A page from the Collinses’ book,” Josie said.
Hummel smiled. “Exactly.”
