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“Yeah?” Clark said again. “Let’s see.”
He threw open the closet door. The Copycat rushed at him just as Clark’s hands closed around the golf club.
The Copycat lunged with the knife.
With a cry, Clark pulled the club out and swung with all of his might.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Faith woke before dawn, as she usually did. The long rest left her with a clear mind and a renewed focus. Clark hadn’t gotten back to her yet, but he was up to his ears in work these days. He had done well enough as Faith’s supervisor that the Bureau had made his promotion official, and now he was managing all of the murder cases in the office. He would get back to Faith as soon as he could.
Still, she had to face the reality that she might not have time to wait. So, while she waited, she would work.
She made coffee and sent Michael a text to meet her in her room when he woke up. Turk continued to sleep, so Faith moved carefully, sitting at her table and pulling out her notepad.
Michael knocked on the door. Turk opened his eyes and lifted his head, but as soon as he caught Michael’s scent, he lowered it again and promptly fell back asleep. Faith answered the door and said, “Were you up already?”
“Why does that always surprise you?” Michael said, crossing the room to the coffeemaker and starting a cup. “You’ve known me for ten years. You know I’m not lazy.”
“I also know that you’re never up before me,” Faith pointed out.
Michael ignored the jibe and said, “So what do you have for me?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Hopefully we can find something together.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, I got nothing either. I think we need to reexamine this entire thing from the beginning.”
“I agree,” Faith said. “We’ve been going off of the assumption that the murders are planned and intentional, and I still think that’s the case.”
“Even after all our suspects proved to be innocent?”
“All our suspects so far,” Faith corrected. “I think we need to keep looking.”
“Where, though? That was the personal connection between all three victims. We could say our guy has a general dislike of medical professionals, but why the lawyer, if that’s the case? We could say he just dislikes wealthy people, but Marvin wasn’t wealthy. I have a hard time believing the killings are random. If they were, then why are the burials taking place all over the Houston area? Unless our killer’s living in his car, it’s much more likely he’d choose random victims from close to home.”
“The Demon of Morgan County operated over an even wider area than here. So did the Marriage Counselor in Tucson.”
“The entire population of Morgan County could fit into a neighborhood in Houston,” Michael countered. “The Tucson case is a good point, but I don’t think it’s the same here. The Marriage Counselor killed his victims quickly and left a mess. He wanted people to find the bodies. This guy is burying them alive and I have a feeling the bell is there to give false hope, not for us to find them. Now that it’s in the news, I don’t think he’ll leave a bell again.”
“No, probably not,” Faith agreed, “and I think there’s a motive for these particular victims too. I just don’t know what it might be.”
“So we’re back to square one,” Michael said.
They fell silent a moment, both frustrated at the lack of progress. Faith sipped her coffee and allowed the warm brew to calm her. “So let’s start from square one,” she said. “What could motivate our killer other than hatred for the wealthy or a personal vendetta against all three?”
Michael thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I keep coming back to the personal vendetta. It’s just the only thing that makes sense.”
“Who then?” Faith asked. “We have the connection between Marvin and Dr. Ames. What about the lawyer? How does he fit in?”
Michael folded his hands on top of the table and pursed his lips. Faith waited patiently. She had worked with Michael for ten years, and she knew that his expression meant he was thinking carefully. Prince was sometimes dismissed as a gumshoe, second fiddle to Faith, but that was doing him a disservice. He had a keen mind, and since Faith hadn’t gotten anywhere and was still waiting for Clark’s input, he was the best chance they had at a new lead.
Michael leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “What did his ex-wife say about the DUI? He hit a girl?”
“Yes, ten years ago,” Faith said. “What does that have to do with now?”
“Revenge is a dish best served cold,” Michael quoted. “In this case, it would be very cold, but if our killer wanted to avoid suspicion, he would want it to be cold.”
“He could also have waited to be ready,” Faith said. “He might not have felt like he could accomplish the killings back then, so he could have decided to be patient and work out his plan first.”
