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“Us?” Casey repeated. “Does that mean FI is actually invited to accompany the detectives on the search?”
“After a good word from Captain Sharp, yes. Remember, he owed us one because of the Olson case. Not to mention how central you are to the ongoing case.” A wry note crept into Ryan’s voice. “Why? Did you think the lack of an official invite would keep us away?”
“Not for a second. Still, it makes things a little easier when we get official permission.”
“True. But not nearly as much fun. I kind of like when my creativity is tested.”
“Oh, it will be,” Casey assured him. “The NYPD’s generosity toward us will only go so far. Especially now that the FBI has been notified and is on the scene. In no time at all, we’ll be steering our own course.”
“And you and Hutch will be fighting,” Ryan pointed out in a teasing tone.
“No doubt.” Casey sighed. “Anyway, I’m pulling up to the brownstone now. I see a parking spot right out front. So Claire and I will be inside in a sec. I want to sit down and review every shred of information you dug up on Glen Fisher.”
“No problem. I’ve got plenty. But it’s still a work in progress,” Ryan reported. “I’m also running a full background check on Fisher’s wife, Suzanne. From the interviews I read in the original police report, it sounds as if she’s scared shitless of the guy—not that I blame her. That could work in our favor.”
Casey pulled into the parking spot and turned off the ignition. “I’m sure Hutch will be on the scene during the police search. I want FI to meet with him beforehand. He’ll give us a profile on a serial sexual homicide offender’s spouse. Is he with the NYPD detectives now?”
“Nope. He’s here. He figured you’d want to go over a few things before leaving for Suzanne Fisher’s. He’s upstairs somewhere, reviewing Fisher’s case file and bringing himself up to speed.”
“Good. We’re on our way in.”
* * *
Casey held up her access card to the card reader and punched her security code into the Hirsch keypad. Opening the front door, she stepped into the FI lobby.
She’d barely hung up her jacket when her iPhone rang. This time when she saw the blocked caller ID, she felt a wave of anger rather than fear.
“Yes?” she said cryptically, expecting the worst.
“You can sense when it’s me. I’m flattered.” The scrambled voice echoed in her ear.
“Is there another victim you want to tell me about?”
An eerie chuckle. “Even I need a little prep time. No, not yet. I called to commend you on your touching visit to the Olson father. Also to applaud you for your initiative on the Holly Stevens case. Your friend was an easy mark. Very submissive. She hardly fought me. Just cried and begged.”
Casey’s fist clenched until her nails bit into her palm. But she wouldn’t give in and lose control. That was exactly what he wanted. She’d keep her cool, stay outwardly calm and collected.
“Was there any other reason for your call?” she inquired.
“You know what my reasons are.”
“To scare me.”
“To remind you,” he corrected. “Your turn is sooner than you think. You’ll be stripped of your bravado, of your supposed calm demeanor and of everything else. You won’t be able to hide then, Red. Not your emotions. Not your body. Not your life. You’ll be at my mercy. What exhilarating divine justice.”
The call was disconnected.
“Son of a bitch!” Casey exclaimed as she punched off her phone.
“It was him again,” Claire said quietly. “He wants to shove himself in your face, so you’ll know he’s watching your every move.”
“He also wants you to know that, no matter which lead you pursue or how much progress you make, he’s still in control.” Hutch had come downstairs to the front hallway a few minutes ago, and was leaning against the wall, listening to Casey’s end of the conversation.
Casey nodded, meeting Hutch’s eyes. “Did I handle it right?”
“Yes. You didn’t break, but you let him have the last word. If you challenge him too much, he’ll lose it. That will escalate his rage and make him twice as dangerous. Plus, he might stop calling, and reserve his anger for acting out. That would up the number of victims. You’ve got to play this very carefully.”
“Do I go along with the pretense that he’s Glen Fisher?”
