Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“Does he know the name?”
“Can’t remember, but he said you can go through his records if it helps. He gave me the login to his database. I already sent it to Tic Tac.”
I breathe out. “Damn it. I really thought he’d have more to offer.”
“Maybe his files will cross reference to someone connected to the case.”
“I’m not sure if this guy is dumb enough to let that happen. Thanks for doing this, Rich. I need to get back to—”
“Purgatory.”
It’s a reminder of how intimate we were once, but not as much as he felt like we were. “Yes. I need to work.”
“Right,” he says, disappointment etched in his tone. A short pause, and, “Lilah, if you need me, call me. And I’ll just hope one day, you really do need me.” He hangs up.
I breathe out again and glance at the clock. Thirty more minutes lost. I feel the ticking of the clock and shove the conversation aside. I start building my notecards, adding Kurt into the mix. I go through each card and each victim again, scribbling notes. I have tons of files from Rollins and Tic Tac, and I spend time analyzing them, making even more cards. It’s eight o’clock when I consider another pizza.
I fall backward and stare at the ceiling, picturing the man in the mask, towering over the crowd. Kurt is tall but who else have I missed? I text Tic Tac: I need to know anyone related to the case that is six foot tall or above.
I drop my phone on my belly. But what if he wasn’t tall? What if he was standing on higher ground? Or the people around him just happened to be short? Higher ground is more logical. I should go look at that parking lot again tomorrow because I’m fixating on the height thing that may be nothing.
Sitting up, I stare at the board on my wall where I have notecards pinned and think about my profile. This person believes he’s better than everyone else but he doesn’t like it when others act as if they’re better than everyone else. Cathy goes to the diner but she is sweet and kind. She wouldn’t treat anyone badly. So she’s not a target. Ted might be, though. He’s arrogant. He’s judgmental. Calvin is not and he’s the boss unless he is behind closed doors. I line up all the victim cards. VP of a bank, a student, and a bar owner. Then there is the couple in real estate having sex when they were murdered.
The diner zips right back into my focus.
So do Ted and Calvin.
Calvin might be the manager, but together, those two run that place. They feel like they’re in the center of this. I’ve hyperfocused on the owner of the theater and diner because that person is unknown. Unknowns bother me, they’re puzzles that must be solved, but...what if Ted or Calvin or even both of them together are lashing out at misbehaving customers? What if that suitcase Cathy had in her possession and the method of payment used for the delivery to the crime scene are the keys to linking one of them to the chainsaw murder?
Even if Ted and Calvin simply and only know more than they think they know, they represent answers that may not even have questions I know to ask just yet.
I’m closer than I think I am.
I need to go by Cathy’s place and talk to her again.
And I need to go to the diner.
A few minutes later, Jay and Kit expect my departure, because it’s also their departure. I’ve pulled on my boots, and armed myself like I’m a criminal or a superhero, depending on who you ask, when my phone buzzes with a text message: Hi Agent Love. This is Cathy. The lady with the coffee. I found the receipt. I can’t seem to make out the name though. You can come and grab it if you want. I’m about to leave town. My daughter is paranoid so I agreed to go upstate and visit my sister.
I text her back: Can you take a photo and send it to me?
I wait and wait some more for a reply. The doorbell rings and I head downstairs to meet Jay. When I’m at the door joining him in the hallway and Cathy hasn’t replied, I punch in her number. It goes straight to voicemail. Something about this is off. I glance at Jay. “Change of plans. We’re going to see Cathy again.”
“The old lady.”
“She’s not that old,” I say, wondering if age is in fact her weapon and I’ve underestimated her.
Maybe we’re headed into a trap.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Why are we going to the old lady’s again?” Kit asks when Jay and I reach the lobby.
“Am I reporting my cases to you now?” I ask tartly. “Perhaps you’d like to join me on crime scenes? I would have brought you in on the chainsaw murder had I known.”