When Olivia stepped back into the room, she purposefully stalked over to the chair and unhooked her jacket off the back. Shrugging into it, she fixed the chief with a steely gaze.
“Chief,” she said coolly, “I think we’re done here. I have work to do and can’t spare any more of my time for your games, so I’m afraid you’ll have to live without the pleasure of my company.” She headed toward the door, ignoring his frown.
“We’re not done here, Miss West.”
“Yes, we are.” She turned to face him as her eyes blazed belligerently. “So, either charge me with something or stay the hell away from me.”
But when she turned back to the door, she found Deputy Hanson blocking her way.
“Get out of my way.” Her voice was low and controlled. “Or badge or not, I will make you get out of my way.”
Hanson looked at the chief, who nodded, and stepped aside, allowing Olivia to pass.
“It’s about your father.” The chief’s voice rang out.
Olivia paused in the doorway, her spine stiffening as she turned back toward him, her expression carefully blank. “I can’t imagine what you could possibly have to say to me about my father that I would want to hear.”
“Please.” He indicated the seat she had just vacated. They stared at each other for a moment until Olivia relented.
“Fine.” Her tone was curt as she moved around to the chair and sat back down. “You have exactly five minutes, and then I’m out of here. And next time you want to speak to me, I won’t be so accommodating.”
“Fine,” he repeated as he sat back in his seat.
He had the appearance of a man with aces up his sleeve, and Olivia didn’t trust that one bit.
“Four minutes thirty seconds. You’d better hurry up.”
“Ms. West, were you aware that there was a string of murders around here twenty years ago?”
“I was eight, Chief Walcott. What do you think?” she replied derisively. The more time she spent in the chief’s company, the more her dislike of him intensified. “Besides,” she continued, “that was the summer my mother died, as you are well aware. That pretty much eclipsed everything else.”
“Was murdered by your father, you mean,” he corrected her.
“That was a cheap shot and you know it.” Her lip curled in contempt. “Four minutes.”
“That summer, there were four murders, all young men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. I am unable to disclose any more information, except to say that the first victim’s injuries matched Adam Miller’s exactly.”
“A copycat?” Olivia’s brows drew down in confusion.
“We don’t think so. The manner in which he was killed, the method, and the state of the remains all match exactly.”
“What exactly are you getting at, Chief?”
“None of those details were ever released to the public.”
“You think it’s the same person? That someone took a twenty-year vacation and then suddenly decided to start murdering again?” Olivia guessed.
“Something like that,” the chief muttered.
“I don’t see what this has to do with my father?”
“The murderer was never caught, and the murders stopped very abruptly. Right after your father was imprisoned, as a matter of fact.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Her voice was dangerously quiet as she tried to hold back the wave of pain the insinuation caused. “It isn’t enough for you that he was convicted of murdering my mother and grandmother, but now he’s a serial killer too?” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Ms. West, the time frames fit.”
“Was he even a suspect in the original murders?” she snapped.
