“They’ve all worked together at various times during their careers, but that’s not surprising given they’re the best lawyers in their fields. Their paths were bound to cross at one point or another. They all knew each other at least. Maybe they made a suicide pact?”
“It’s not a bad theory. Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong and they did kill themselves.”
Casey circled her desk, back to her chair and as she sat down, she gave my clothes one look up and down. “You know, for such a thug, you scrub up quite well.” She winked. “How’d the function go with DiMarco? You’re back early, so I’m guessing it was either very successful or very unsuccessful.”
“My chat with DiMarco went as expected. He was nervous to see me there and wouldn’t talk to me in front of the others, so he led me through the kitchen at the conference center hotel and into the alley to chat. He was clearly shaken by my presence.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to dig any deeper into his business.”
“Did he actually use the word ‘dig?’ Like the note stated?”
“That’s the exact word that he used. Could be a coincidence, but my guess is that it isn’t. If he’s the killer, then he knows we’re close and he knows he’s vulnerable.” I put my hands behind my head and leaned back. “But now we have to do the hardest part—we have to sit and wait for him to make a mistake.”
Casey spent another hour in the office, reviewing more of the footage before she called it a night just after 10pm. She offered to leave together, but I wasn’t ready to stop reviewing the files yet. She said goodnight, and I stayed in the office, brewing another pot of coffee.
I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Not after my encounter with Hugh Guthrie. Some people had a way of getting under your skin, a way of pushing you to the limit, and for me, that was Guthrie. Every time I shut my eyes; I saw his stupid face. He supplied the gun to my wife’s killer, and killed another man, and he should’ve been seeing out his days at the Cook County Jail. But Guthrie had a good defense lawyer, someone who knew the law better than most. The lawyer exposed a loophole, charmed the judge, and then Guthrie walked out of prison. Maybe there was something to the serial killer’s rage that I was starting to understand.
The police had done their job, the legal system had done its job, but Guthrie still walked away, thanks to the skills of a defense lawyer. The defense lawyer was also doing his job, doing his part for the justice system, but in the end, he was defending a criminal. If I couldn’t nail Guthrie, would I go after the defense lawyer? I didn’t think so, but I understood the killer’s thinking.
As the clock ticked past midnight, I struggled to keep my eyes open any longer. I’d searched file after file after file for anything that might help us expose DiMarco, and I came up with nothing. Nothing. Not a clue, not a hint, not one piece of evidence. We were close, but we were missing something.
After I locked my office door, I looked down the corridor that led to the elevators. Out the farthest window, the one closest to the street, the night sky was aglow with the buzz of city lights, and I tried to remember the last time I’d left in daylight. My workload was getting heavier by the month, not that I complained about the long hours. I liked the work, and I knew long ago that this was what the job entailed.
I continued, and walked the street to the nearby parking lot, checking for any potential problems. Legend said that werewolves came out after midnight, but in my experience, the drunken idiots were a bigger problem. There was no movement in the shadows, but still, I was wary. As I entered the parking lot and walked towards my truck, my mind was thinking about a drink of whiskey, and then my head hitting the pillow, but then I spotted Casey’s car still in her parking space.
Unusual, I thought, but concluded she must’ve gone to get something to eat before returning to her car. Perhaps even a date. A woman like Casey never found getting a date any real challenge. She could walk into any bar and instantly be the center of attention. Second dates, however, were a lot harder for her. Most men were scared off by her ability to beat them into the ground. I’d seen her go to work on the heavy bag, and knew she packed a punch. She might’ve been dainty, but she was no pushover.
I needed a whiskey tonight. I needed to try and calm the constant thoughts barreling through my head. There was no doubt that Casey and I would be at the top of DiMarco’s list next. I’d been threatened with murder many times before, and no one had even come close, but this felt different. These murders were well-planned and well-thought out. These deaths weren’t at the hands of a random brute, these deaths were at the hands of a crazed, and clever, psychopath.
As I stepped closer to my truck in the multi-level parking lot, something in the air didn’t feel right.
A light rain fell, and I stepped over the puddle that was beginning to pool near the ramp that led to the street. With my keys pointed towards my truck, I went to unlock it. But in a moment of distraction,
