“We both crossed that line.” She set her pen down on top of her notebook and shut off the recorder. “I think I have more than enough. You’ll get a copy before I send it to the publisher. I won’t put anything in there that you don’t want me to.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I want you to know something,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I blame myself just as much, if not more, than I blame you for everything that happened.”
“Babe, none of this is your fault.”
“You warned me that giving the killer too much attention might escalate things.”
“And I turned around and fed you information to give you the exclusive anyway. Besides, our killer didn’t do anything for the attention of the masses. One thing I don’t want in that book is that I think at some point, our killer started doing things to impress you or for you in some weird way, and that’s why I’ve been so worried the killings might start again with you back in Seattle.”
“I’ve never understood why you thought the killer had some sort of weird vibe for me.”
He lowered his chin. “Seriously? The killer communicated to you, and we can’t rule out that the killer isn’t doing it again.”
“Okay, first off. I was the most aggressive reporter during that time, so it makes sense that the killer would reach out to me. And aren’t you the one who told me the note and the trinkets are just whack jobs fucking with us?”
“That thing is off, right?”
She nodded.
“The raven trinkets were purchased at the same store as the dolphin ones, and they were bought in bulk a month ago.”
“Oh fuck, that might not be good.”
“Nope,” he said. “It could be bad. Very bad.”
Callie tossed her knapsack on her bed in the guest room. A couple of shiny objects bounced off the bed and rolled to a stop near her feet.
She bent over and picked up two raven trinkets.
One silver and one gold.
She dropped to her knees in search of the third one, but it was nowhere to be found. However, she did find a note with her name on it that read:
Callie: You disappoint me. I thought you’d have more strength. The game has begun.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
She raced down the stairs, fumbling with her phone. She paced in Jag’s kitchen with her cell pressed against her ear. “Come on, Kara, answer the damn phone.” She peeked around the corner. Jag had slipped into his home office and shut the door. She’d give him a few more minutes before letting him know what she’d found.
“Hi, Callie girl,” Kara finally said.
Callie plopped herself on the stool at the island and let out a long breath, fighting the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”
“Why do you sound so ominous?”
“Because those raven trinkets I showed you? They were bought in bulk at the same store where all the dolphin ones were purchased.”
“Oh no,” Kara whispered. “Ivy and I were talking about the differences between a dolphin and a raven. A dolphin symbolizes harmony, resurrection, and protection. Ravens generally represent death, often predicting it. It’s a really big jump for a killer to go from one concept to the other.”
Callie had to agree, but psychopaths often made connections normal people couldn’t possibly understand. “What about resurrection and death? They go hand in hand.”
“I suppose. But one is sunshine and unicorns while the other is all Alfred Hitchcock,” Kara said. “One is about balance, and the other really deals with the coming of something terrible.”
One of the things Callie loved about working with Kara was that she constantly forced Callie to stretch her mind, examine every angle, even the ones that seemed so obscure that the ideas bordered on the ridiculous.
But Kara was often right on the money.
And something horrible was on the horizon.
Callie pinched the bridge of her nose. “What if we’ve had it all wrong from the beginning and the Trinket Killer is a woman?”
“Why would you say that?” Kara asked. “That’s not anything we’ve ever really talked about before.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Renee was having an affair.”
A faint gasp echoed from the other side of the cell. “Why would you bring that up? Why would you tell me that? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“No. It’s not like that. Whoever killed my sister and your wife knew them. That’s a key connection,” she said, taking a quick breath. “Did you get to see Renee’s body?”
“I identified her, yes. Why?”
“Did you know all the details? How many times she was stabbed? What she looked like at the crime scene? Did the police show you any of that?” Callie asked, trying not to sound so desperate.
“The police tried to trip me up so that I’d admit to killing my wife or give them something they could arrest me for,” Kara said with tinge of resentment hanging on her words. “Why are we talking about this?”
“I know the Trinket Killer is back, only I’m really thinking he’s a she, and I believe both your wife and my sister knew the killer. But what’s the connection? What’s the common denominator?”
“Callie. Slow down and take a breath,” Kara interjected. “Have you talked to Jag? What does he think about all this?”
“He hasn’t said too much. He’s eerily calm about the entire thing.” One thing Callie had learned early on was not to always tell Kara what Jag’s theories were. When she’d first met Kara, she and Jag clashed, which was understandable since Jag all but accused Kara of murder. It had taken a long time for the two of them to become friends. “I’m not exactly sure what he thinks, except that I don’t think
