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Noah said, “We are doing our jobs, Mr. Collins. Someone is killing people around you. Taunting you. You must have some idea who would want to do this.”
Beau unclenched his fists, shaking his fingers. “I don’t know. That is the truth.” He turned to Margot. “Margot, tell them. You’re my assistant. You see practically everything that goes on behind the scenes. Everyone in my life. You know that I’m being honest. Tell them.”
Margot gazed up at him with a mixture of hurt and fury. “I didn’t even know about Eve.”
“Eve was a mistake!” he insisted.
Margot stood, folding her arms across her chest. “How could you? I can’t even believe I thought you were— You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m over this whole thing.”
“Margot, please,” he began, but she spun on her heel and left the room. A door slammed behind her.
Beau trained his gaze on Josie. “Are you happy now? You’re blowing up my entire life!”
“Not me,” said Josie. “Someone who very much wants to watch you suffer. You must have some idea who that person could be. Tell us.”
“I don’t know!” he yelled, spit flying from his mouth. He began to pace the tiny area between the couch and coffee table. “I honestly don’t know what I could have done to anyone to make them want to kill Claudia—or Eve—no one even knew about us.”
But someone had. The killer had even made a point to put Claudia’s rings onto Eve’s hand and to leave Eve in Lovers’ Cave, an aptly named place to leave someone’s mistress. Whether Beau was lying about having enemies or not, someone was targeting him and using those around him to make their point.
“Mr. Collins,” she said, making her tone conciliatory. “We’re not trying to blow up your life or expose your ‘lapses in judgment.’ We are trying to prevent more murders.”
He froze, the worry line on his forehead deepening. “More? Why would there be more?”
“Because,” Josie said, “this killer thinks he’s playing a game and he’s not going to stop until he thinks he’s won. The question is: how many more people does he have to kill before he feels as though he’s won? Who are those people?”
Noah lifted his chin in the direction of Margot’s bedroom door. “Miss Huff?”
Beau looked stricken. “Margot? No. She’s just my assistant. That’s all.”
“Who else?” Josie asked. “Who else is important enough to you for this killer to target?”
He hung his head. “Detectives,” he said. “There was only one person who was important to me and that was my wife. Anyone who knows me knows that. For fifteen years, she has been absolutely everything to me. Whoever this monster is, he can’t hurt me more than he already has by taking my Claudia away from me.”
Tears leaked from his eyes. He sat back down, sobbing into his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I honestly don’t know who is doing this.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Eight hours later, after some tumultuous sleep, Josie and Noah returned to the stationhouse where Mettner and Gretchen sat behind their computers, typing away, looking haggard and exhausted. They didn’t even look up when Josie and Noah entered. Not until Josie crinkled the plastic bag filled with takeout food between two fingers. Gretchen stopped typing. From over her reading glasses, she eyed the bag. “It’s been a long, tedious day with not many leads,” she said. “If that’s not dinner for us, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Without looking up from his computer, Mettner said, “Palmer, if they leave, we’re stuck here for another shift.”
Josie laughed as she reached into the bag and lifted out plastic containers—one for Gretchen and one for Mettner. She handed them off to Noah, who distributed them. “Your favorites,” he told them.
Josie plopped into her desk chair. “Not many leads,” she said. “Just what every detective wants to hear.”
The room went silent as Mettner and Gretchen dug into their dinners. Across the room sat their press liaison, Amber Watts, at her desk. A cell phone was trapped between her ear and shoulder while she typed on her laptop. Every so often she spoke into the phone, but Josie couldn’t make out the words.
Mettner glanced at Amber and then back at Josie and Noah. “Chief wants her to keep the press off these murders.”
Noah laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Amber offered them a strained smile and went back to typing and talking.
“Seriously,” Mettner said. “She’s been holding them off all day by telling them we’ll hold a press conference soon.”
“Great,” Noah said. “That’ll be fun.”
Josie logged into her computer and found the Eve Bowers and Claudia Collins files, scrolling through the reports that had been uploaded by various members of the team.
