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Ty made a fist, and Owen bumped it.
Asa’s gaze landed on Ty. “Can I see you in my office a minute?”
That was never good. “Sure, Bear.” He looked to Fiona for some inkling of what Asa might want, but she offered no help. Definitely not good. Ty followed Asa into his office and closed the door. “What’s going on? Am I in trouble?” It’d been a while since he was in the official hot seat.
Asa eased into his leather chair and pointed to the other one across the desk.
Yeah, he was in trouble. But he’d pretty much been toeing the line and keeping his cake hole in check. Ty plopped in the chair. “I’ve been using a filter in public, Bear. Honest.” He’d gotten himself in deep trouble when he’d made some snide comments about a killer in Virginia they’d been tracking. Someone with a cell phone had recorded it, and it had gone viral due to his humorous remarks. Could have been worse. He could’ve talked trash about a colleague or something. Still, it had been unprofessional, and he’d been careful since then about what he said. In public.
Asa smirked. “I’m not talking about that viral video, though Fiona thinks you deserve a medal to celebrate not ending up on someone else’s TikTok or YouTube.”
“I kinda concur.” Although that case involving the Fire & Ice Killer had gone cold three Septembers ago, he had nagged Ty the most. Ty still wanted him. But there hadn’t been a murder since the TikTok and YouTube video released. No new evidence. All Ty was left with was his own blunder. “You’re not suspending me again, are you?” His punishment had been fair, and he’d taken that week to gain some clarity in Barbados, only to be trapped in the middle of a hurricane. That had been a suck year.
Asa tented his hands. “No. Have you been paying attention to the news?”
“Like politics and stuff? ’Cause no.” He had enough sociopaths to deal with in his job. The last thing he wanted to do was come home and turn them on his TV as background noise.
“This case is in the Outer Banks, and the weather team is keeping an eye on a storm gathering in the southeastern Caribbean Sea. Right now, the probability is low that it’ll generate into a hurricane, but they’re watching it, and I know how you feel about bad storms and about North Carolina in general.”
He held Ty’s gaze. Ty did hate storms, but it was highly unlikely they’d be in the Outer Banks when one hit. They’d exit before it was too wild. Being in North Carolina altogether was a whole other ball game—where curveballs were thrown and heavy hitters struck out.
It’s where he was born and raised in the Family of Glory. “That’s more about Asheville, Asa. Are we going to Asheville?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, Tiberius. We never know where a case will lead. You know this. But...since Cami is on vacation, I thought I’d give you the option of staying here and helping Selah answer phones and do the paperwork you love so much.”
He scratched his scruffy chin—he hadn’t had time to shave for oversleeping. “Paperwork and phones over catching a killer. Hmm...tough choice.” He didn’t necessarily love going back to his home state. Too many tragic memories and pain. The night he’d been disfellowshipped from the Family, it had been storming. Maybe that was the genesis of his fear and hatred of storms. But this was an assignment. A chance to catch a sicko. “I’m not paralyzed by my past, and I’ve worked other cases in North Carolina.” Which had been few and far between. “I’ll be fine.” He stood. “But thanks, man. I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“If you’re good, I’m good.”
“I’m good. This case has nothing to do with me. And I’ll be on my best behavior.” He saluted.
Asa raised an eyebrow. “That’s really not saying much.”
“That’s valid.” He left the office with a grin, then spotted Violet poring over a file with pursed lips. “What’s up?”
She tapped her index finger to the cleft in her chin. “This case reminds me of one of our cold ones. I couldn’t place it, but when Asa called you in his office, it jogged my memory.”
If Ty’s possibility of getting into trouble jogged her memory of a cold case, then it had to be the Fire & Ice Killer. “Which one?” he asked anyway, his stomach churning.
Her face said it all. Yep. The Fire & Ice Killer.
“It’s similar,” she said. “He staged his victims, naked, at doors of historical churches—beacons of hope.”
“Not the same at all. No tattoos.”
Violet arched an eyebrow. “Lighthouses are also beacons of hope—bringing ships to shore. Symbolically it fits. Both sets of women in Virginia and North Carolina were in their mid-to late twenties.”
“But the Fire & Ice Killer painted his victims’ lips red.” He’d used Revlon’s Fire & Ice lipstick, which is how he earned his nickname. But he only used the lipstick and matching polish on their lips, fingernails and toenails. “No tats. And no flowers in their names.”
Violet eyed him until he squirmed inside. “No, but he went silent in Virginia. North Carolina isn’t that far away. Maybe he was evolving. From lipstick and polish to a more permanent brand. It’s possible he spent the past three years working on his craft. I’ll run the signatures through ViCAP. Might take some time, though.”
The Violent Crime Apprehension Program would tell them if there had been other similar murders around the country and give them patterns and timelines. Was this possible? “He didn’t leave notes that said ‘Bloom where you are planted.’”
“But he did leave notes with the same kind of note cards nailed into their palms. Same color of ink.”
The sadistic freak had left a message from the King James Version of the Bible. Isaiah 1:18. “...though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
Ty wasn’t sure how that note had evolved into flowers and notes about blooming. “I’m not buying it.”
