He was a murderer, Flynn remindedhimself. In his mind’s eye, a face floated into his vision, a face from hispast. One that reminded Flynn what it was like for the families left behindwhen their loved ones were murdered. He couldn’t let a killer get away. And sohe reached over and caught at Taylor’s wrist, and then kicked his fingers untilhe had to let go of the railing, and then threw Taylor toward the ground withall his might.
The man tumbled through the air,giving a strangled scream of surprise, his eyes wide as he fell without anycontrol.
Flynn paused long enough to seehim hit bottom, and then ran back out of the building, using common sense towork out how to reach the door to the enclosed back of the property and dashingoutside as quickly as he could.
He hadn’t needed to rush, in theend. Taylor was winded, floating with wide eyes in the swimming pool that Flynnhad seen down below. He’d known instantly it was the only safe option: one moreswing, and Taylor would have been above concrete, not the pool. If he’d fallenthen, he would have died without revealing any details about his murders. Nowhe was safe, if a little wet. Flynn could take him in for questioning, get himto trial. This had been the best option on offer.
“Tom Taylor,” Flynn panted,pausing at the side of the pool. “You’re under arrest for murder.” He knelt andleaned forward across the water, grabbing hold of Taylor’s arm and pullinguntil the man was lying on the side of the pool, still blinking owlishly andbreathing hard.
“How did you choose your victims?”Flynn demanded. He wanted to press home the advantage, while Taylor was inshock and disoriented.
“Wha… what are you…”
“Were you working alone?” Flynnasked, pushing him, shouting it into his face. He needed to know. He needed tobe sure that he’d stopped the problem at its root.
“Y… yeah, I was alone,” Taylorstammered. “Hell, man. I didn’t know you would come down on me like this.”
Flynn frowned. “You expected alight response to murder?”
“Murder?” Taylor was gasping andshivering in the cold air, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkingabout!”
Christ, Flynn thought, he wasgoing to have to get the man booked at the sheriff’s station soon and wrappedin a blanket before he got hypothermia. “The three women you killed,” Flynnground out. “We know all about them. Signing them with your initials wasn’t asmart move.”
“W-what?” Taylor shook his headrapidly. “I didn’t kill anyone, man. I thought you were here about the thefts!”
It was Flynn’s turn to blink insurprise. “Thefts?”
“Y-yeah, I took a few things onthe job. Emptied a couple of cash boxes left overnight. I know I wasn’tsupposed to, but they hardly pay me anything. I just wanted a little extra,man, that’s all. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but I didn’t murdernobody!”
Flynn stared down at him, both ofthem breathing heavily after their exertion, for a long moment. “You’re just a thief,”he said, partly a question and partly a statement.
“That’s what I’m trying to tellyou!” Taylor replied, his face still full of panic.
Flynn stood slowly, keeping an eyeon the prone man. He was still going to have to bring him in. Either Taylor wasjust a petty thief, or he was an accomplished liar—because he was putting on apretty convincing display.
Flynn rubbed a hand over his face.“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself. This was going to be a whole lot ofpaperwork and not a lot of result.
He was going to have to bring theguy in for questioning anyway, check out his alibis, that kind of thing. But hewas already fairly confident that he was going to end up releasing Taylor intothe custody of the sheriff for his theft case, and having to start again on therest.
Just when Flynn didn’t think hismood was going to be able to get any worse, his cell phone rang—and looking atthe screen, he saw Agent Zoe Prime’s name flashing up on it. The last person hewanted to hear from right now, but he had to answer it anyway; it was his job.
“Agent Flynn,” Prime said. “I amat a new crime scene. Well, sort of.”
“What?” Flynn found his handforming into a fist and had to deliberately relax it. “Why aren’t you gettingready to fly home?”
“I was still listed as the primarycontact,” Prime said, her voice even and seemingly unapologetic. “You need toget here.”
Flynn stared down into the deepend of the pool, shaking his head. This was all kinds of screwed up. First, hejumped the wrong suspect, and now his alcoholic partner had reinserted herselfinto the case. Excellent. “Fine,” he said, sullenly, uncomfortably aware of howmuch it made him sound like a teenager. “I’ll have to wait for someone to comeby from the sheriff and take a guy into custody for me. Then I’ll drive over.”
Flynn ended the call withoutwaiting for Prime’s response, inwardly seething. Could his first case be goingany worse? The bodies were starting to pile up—and whatever Prime had meant bythat “sort of,” Flynn had to bet it wasn’t going to be anything good.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Zoe looked up at the sound of theengine in the distance, calculating the speed of the vehicle from the frequencyof the roar and how quickly it was getting louder, as much as she could hearabove the pounding inside her own head. It was going fast. Agent Flynn, she hadto presume.
She returned her attention to thesmall pond they had been called out to. Situated about a quarter mile behindthe isolated house that it belonged to, it was only about eight feet deep, butthe depths were murky enough. Reeds grew around the banks, and there were anumber of ornamental fish whirling around in a panic at the disturbance oftheir habitat. She knew how they felt. Her head was roiling almost as badly asher stomach had when she’d driven over, an unfortunate consequence of lastnight’s diversion.
The fishes’ disturbance was causedby two men in diving gear who were just now emerging to the banks, holdingsomething heavy-looking just under the water. As Zoe watched, it broke throughthe surface,
