“No.He’s probably doing that all on his own.”
I give a grim smile because Burgess does seem like the type whose karmic punishment is having to live his own life.
“What about the Blackbird murders?And leads there?”
“No.I think it’s a different killer, but I can’t put my finger on it.The killer was careful.He left no DNA evidence, which makes me think he knew how to clean a crime scene.He wore gloves.He might have kept them on his person.”
“Along with a dead bird.”
She huffs.“I guess.”
“Why birds?”
“I don’t know.It could have religious or symbolic significance.But nothing else in the scene points to that.”She worries her lip, lost in her thoughts.
I lay a hand on her shoulder, and my mood lifts when Inara turns toward me.
“Come.You need sleep.”
“You’re not going to threaten to tie me to the bed?”
It’s a good sign that she’s joking about this.“That can be arranged.”
“I guess there are worse fates.It’s not punishment if I like it, right?”
She lets me pull her out of the chair but curls into me.It’s less of a hug and more of a collapse.I keep my touch light on her back, sensing how fragile she is.My little bird.I wonder if she’ll ever allow me to call her that again.
“I’m missing something.I know it.Usually, I can see—” She cuts herself off.I wait, but she doesn’t expound.
There’s something she’s not telling me.I want her to tell me, but I don’t want to push it.Another thing for me to file underInara’s Secrets.
“I have instincts, I suppose,” she says.“It’s a part of profiling—getting inside the killer’s head.But I don’t want...”
It wasn’t much of a guess to realize that part of Inara’s gift is that she’s able to sink into a madman’s psyche.Drown in the darkness.I can understand why she wouldn’t want to do that with the man who killed her family.
“It’s all right.Let me help,” I say.“I’ll do anything to help.”
“I wish you could.But...”She hesitates so long it’s like she’s gone somewhere else.
“Inara?”
She leans on me.“Just be with me.That’ll be enough.”
Inara
Rex is worried about me.I know it.
I’ve retreated into myself, into that dark, solitary place where I’ve lived for so long.
He can’t save me.No one can.
He doesn’t know the secrets I’ve kept for my whole life.I long to tell him but can’t get the words out.It’s like I’m swimming in the ocean, getting plowed under the surf, but every time I break to the surface, I’m buried under another wave.
At least there have been no more deaths.Which also means no more clues, either.BK has a pattern of taking breaks between kills.At least according to the notes Lacy sent over.I pour over her murder book, practically memorizing each page.
The two most recent murders have different MOs, one in the BK style and one in the Blackbird style.Is it two serial killers?Or a copycat emulating both?
All I know is that BK is involved somehow, and he’s not finished.There will be more bodies.
