“So, what are you going to do?” Emmett asked.
Gunnar toyed with his empty soda can. “There’s not much wecando other than stay extra vigilant. It’s Templeton’s play now.”
“This isn’t the kind of admirer I need,” Bryn said, concern etched across his face. Emmett’s anxiety was written all over his, too.
“Try not to worry, okay?” Gunnar said. “He’s got the entire FBI after him. They’ll catch him—sooner or later.”
“Let’s hope it’s sooner.” Emmett pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’m going to get back to work. I think we should put out a call to the Wolf Run organizers and anyone else we can reach for cell phone footage. There weren’t any security cameras in the parking lot, but maybe someone caught something—like a car approaching, or even Templeton himself.”
“Good thinking,” Gunnar said. “Bryn and I are heading over to see Agent Bell.”
“We are?” Bryn asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I want to hear what they’re doing to track this psycho down. Plus, we can catch up on the Walmart case—Bell said there’s been some progress.”
“Okay, cool. Let me put on a fresh sweater. I managed to drop spinach on this one.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll take the car instead of the bike—it’s easier to talk.”
“Sure.”
Gunnar wasn’t fooled by Bryn’s apparent nonchalance. If Bryn needed a few minutes alone to process everything, Gunnar was fine with that. He headed to the ground floor and stuck his head into Warden’s office.
“I told him,” he said.
“How did he take it?” Warden asked.
“How do you think?”
“Pretending he wasn’t affected, then disappearing to think it through?”
“Exactly. He’s ‘changing his sweater’ because of an imaginary stain. Then we’re heading to the FBI.”
“We can’t stop working because of this,” Warden said, “but keep a very close eye on him, okay?”
“Always.” Gunnar shut the door and waited for Bryn at the bottom of the stairs. He heard the thunder of Bryn’s footsteps as he came down them.
“How is it you make enough noise for a herd of elephants?” Gunnar teased.
“Loud stairs. Not my fault,” Bryn replied with a shrug.
“Let’s go.”
Once they were on their way, Gunnar let the silence linger for a bit before speaking. “You can talk to me, you know. How are you feeling about this?”
“I’m not sure how Ishouldfeel,” Bryn admitted, fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans. “Attracting the attention of a prolific serial killer wasn’t exactly on my to-do list today.”
“Fair point. When you read him in the interview room, you were only asked about his strongest memory. You didn’t look at his future intent. Or did you?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re making this hard, Bryn. What did you see?”
“Nothing good.”
Gunnar’s patience was wearing thin. He ran a hand through his hair. “Bryn…”
“All right! I saw a bloody knife, bare skin covered in cuts and…a pair of black leather gloves discarded on the floor. My gloves.”
