“I don’t think he killed before six weeks ago,” Will said. “I think that whatever makes him kill makes him kill the way he does. I don’t think there’s any other way he could do it.”
“That’s why you think it’s Arthur Kelty, isn’t it? Because the killings mimic Wayne Kelty’s style.”
Will nodded.
“Yes, I do think it’s Arthur and for that reason. Something triggered him. It’s like his madness finally came to a head, and now he can’t stop. My guess is he won’t wait two weeks for the next one.”
The waitress arrived with their beers. Jen leaned back in the booth, sipping hers.
“What happened in Minneapolis?”
He looked at her questioningly.
“When you were telling your story this morning, I had the feeling there was more to it. It looked to me like the case was personal for you.”
He stared at her for a few moments without speaking.
“You’re very perceptive,” he said finally. “Or maybe I don’t do as good a job of hiding my feelings as I think I do.”
He stared into his beer for so long that Jen began to wonder if she had offended him by probing. Then he raised the mug and took a large swallow. Putting it back down on the table a little too hard, he nodded.
“Yeah, there’s more to it.” He clasped the handle of the mug so hard that his knuckles were white. “Wayne’s fourth victim, one of the two that I told you had the misfortune to live next to someone he’d done work for, was my sister. My baby sister. She was only twenty-one when Wayne got to her.”
“Oh, God!” Jen wished she could take back her question about Minneapolis. She had no desire to probe what was obviously still an open wound. “I had no idea, or I wouldn’t have pried.”
“It’s okay. It’s been a long time. I’ve learned to handle it.” His smile was bitter. “Even if it does hurt.”
He took another long drink of his beer.
“Is that why you left the Minneapolis police?”
“It was part of it. I had just passed the bar and was trying to decide if I really wanted to practice law after all. Police work was just the means to the end to begin with. It paid tuition and kept my family and me eating. Before I knew it, though, I was enjoying it.”
He chuckled.
“That surprised me as much as it surprised my family. So when I passed the bar, I faced a dilemma. Like my wife kept pointing out, if I didn’t do anything with the law degree, it had been pretty much a waste of time. No education is really a waste, of course, but I had put in a lot of time and effort to get that far. But I didn’t want to give up being a cop. Federal law enforcement seemed like a good compromise.” His face darkened. “Then Wayne picked my sister for his sick games, and that made my decision for me.”
He drained his mug and looked at her, his eyes full of pain.
“I didn’t say anything this morning because I don’t want the Task Force to focus on that. Some might think I’m obsessing about Artie because of what happened to Kathy. I don’t want people to blindly discount my theory any more than I want them to blindly accept it. Your killer may not be Artie, but the particulars of the two are too similar to be ignored. It has to be considered.”
“I see your point,” she admitted. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Then you don’t think I’m obsessing?”
“No, I don’t. You’re right—the particulars are too similar to be ignored.”
They stared at each other across the table, her heart going out to him for the pain he had suffered. She knew from her own experience that the pain of losing someone you loved never left. Even though she and Jake had been having problems, his death had felt as if she’d had a part of herself amputated. If his death had been an intentionally cruel one at the hands of another as the death of Will’s sister had been…
As she looked into Will’s beautiful, sad eyes, she was filled with contradictory emotions. She had to work alongside this man for as long as it took to find the killer. He attracted her more the longer she was around him, and she was afraid that at some point she would give in to the temptation. She had to keep their relationship on a professional level because she suspected if she ever gave in to the temptation, she would get in too deep.
“It’s getting late,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I’d better get going.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
He started to get up, but she waved him back down.
“It might be better if you don’t.”
She rolled her eyes toward the bar’s patrons, and he laughed.
“When you said this was a department hangout, I should have suggested we go somewhere else.”
“Well, too late for that now. See you tomorrow.”
She turned, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. When she looked at his face, she was surprised to see he’d turned serious.
“Be careful,” he said. “We don’t know who this guy is. I mean, yes, it might be Artie, but we don’t know who Artie is now. You may have already come in contact with him and not know it.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, pulling her hand from his grip.
The air outside was cool, and the lot was empty of people. As she walked to her car, she caught herself swiveling her head, trying to see in all directions at once. You’re being silly, she told herself, but as she approached the first parked car, she slipped her hand into her purse and gripped her weapon. Because the truth was, she would be even sillier if she thought she was invulnerable. She saw herself as the hunter, but she could just as easily become the hunted.
CHAPTER 15
