Angus spoke before Jethro could. “‘Slivers of time make up each moment, and only the pale horse and his master prevail in the most crucial of breathy gasps.’”
Jethro nodded. “The guy isn’t exactly subtle.”
Angus dug his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “All right. Everyone keep working here. I’m going to crash the scene.”
“The body won’t be there by the time you arrive,” Nari said. Why did he have to go out in the storm like that?
“I know, but I want to examine the scene. The more information I have, the better I can profile this asshole,” Angus said. He looked at the assembled group. “For now, we go on the presumption that this wasn’t Millie, because this guy seems to have a pattern of killing people who look like members of our team. We use every resource we have to find Millie unless we get bad news from the lab.”
Nari swallowed. “If that’s his pattern, he’s hit all the women on the team. Brigid, Dana, Millie, and me.” She looked at Pippa. “Both Pippa and Serena have other jobs and don’t work for HDD. Do you think he’d find look-alikes for them, too?” She had to keep Angus in his head to keep him in control.
Thunder rolled outside. Angus prowled to the murder board tacked across the wall. “If his intention is to mess with us, it’s entirely possible. Although he’ll again turn to the real thing soon enough. I’ve already asked Tate to provide protection for Serena, even though we haven’t worked with her for a while.” He looked at the picture of his sister and then pivoted toward the door. “Regardless, he’s killed at least four women and they deserve justice. I’ll be back.”
Jethro shoved his laptop into his pack. “I’m with you. We need to talk this out like we did last time. If it is Lassiter, he’s had at least five years to plan this. He couldn’t go that long without killing.”
“No.” Angus turned at the door. “So, either he was killing and we haven’t found victims, or there was a reason he couldn’t kill during that time frame.” He smacked his hand against the wall. “Or the bastard is dead and this is somebody new.” He straightened. “If itissomebody new, how does he know so much? We need to go back through old files.” He scouted the team. “All right. Mal, Dana, Pippa, and Wolfe, you proceed as if this is a new killer. Explore all avenues. Nari, Jethro, and I will proceed as if it was Lassiter because we know that case well.”
The group nodded.
Angus angled toward the speakerphone. “Raider and Brigid? Figure out who the hell shot at me yesterday. I don’t see a connection to the serial killer, so it might be related to one of our closed cases.”
Nari nodded. “That’s a good plan.” She reached for her raincoat, which was hanging by the door. Her knees wobbled just enough that she had to take her time shrugging into it. Their team leader had intrigued her from the beginning, and Angus had never been more in control than today.
Angus paused. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you.” She patted Roscoe’s head and swept by Angus into the stormy day. “We’re on the same team, remember?”
* * *
Rain beat the area beneath the graffiti-riddled bridge, muddying the sopping wet brown leaves. The crime scene tape remained, but the area had been cleared, and Angus looked up at the distance to the top. It was no wonder the woman’s face had been unrecognizable if she’d landed on one of the nearby rocks.
“The area is rather secluded,” Jethro said, scanning through the rain while petting Roscoe’s wet head. “Although that jogging path is frequently used. This guy doesn’t mind taking a chance at being seen, does he?”
“He’s overconfident rather than reckless,” Angus said. His phone buzzed, and upon seeing it was Tate, he answered. “What do you have?”
Tate cleared his throat. “Wasn’t Millie Frost.”
Relief nearly dropped him, followed by a strong punch of guilt. Somebody was dead, and that person was as important as his team member. Angus turned toward Nari, who stared at him with wide, dark eyes.Not Millie, he mouthed.
She sagged.
“Who was it?” Angus asked.
Papers shuffled across the line as Tate read. “Young runaway from Texas who’s been missing for a year. My guess is he found her on the street. The pink streaks in the hair are new, leading us to believe the killer actually sprayed them in, and her face was bashed before she was tossed from the bridge.” Tate’s voice lowered to a whisper. “HDD called here and I’m getting heat that they’re infringing on our case. Did you forget your interviews with them today?”
Angus started. “Shit. Yeah, I did.” Damn it. He’d completely forgotten. How could he forget something like that? “I’ll make it right.”
“See that you do. I’m getting looks here and have to stop talking to you,” Tate said. “I’m sending you the sketch of the scene, so you know where the body fell, but don’t call me again. If I need your help, I’ll reach out to you.”
“Wait. Was there a note?” Angus asked.
Tate sighed. “Not this time.”
“Damn it, Tate. There had to have been a note. He left one last time.” Angus’s voice rose, and he quickly quashed all emotion. “Have the coroner check the body carefully.”
“No shit.” Tate clicked off.
Angus winced. Tate was probably his last friend in Metro, and that was stretching it. He looked around. “Sounds like Metro and the HDD are butting heads, which only helps us for now. They didn’t find a note. There has to be a note.” The text came in and he scanned the sketch. “According to Metro, the body was over here.” Running over to the area indicated on the sketch, he studied the leaves, scattering them.
