photo the killer had sent of me in Grady’s truck had shaken me more than I’d realized.
Davis said, “Of course not. Why, did something happen today?”
“No, I had breakfast with Lorna Gaither, and then I created a puzzle and faxed it to my editor from the hotel. I haven’t even had time to get into trouble yet.”
“Let’s see the note,” Zach said.
“It’s in my office.”
We walked back to Davis’s office, where Zach had spent so much time over the years. It had been completely redecorated since his time there, and while my husband had enjoyed dark woodwork and muted colors, Davis had redone the place into a bright and airy space with modern furniture, something I never would have pegged him for liking. Though mostly neat, I saw an open newspaper on one corner of his desk. As I glanced at it, I saw that there was a puzzle open, though not one of my own. It was partially completed, and I had to smile when I realized that he’d been working in pen.
“What do you think?” Davis asked as he watched Zach’s expression as he took the changes in.
“It looks good,” Zach said. “It suits you.”
I looked at my husband to see if he was teasing, but his expression was serious.
“Thanks.” It was clear that Davis had been holding his breath a little, and he released it with my husband’s approval.
“Here’s a copy,” Davis said as he handed a sheet of paper to Zach.
“Could I see the original?” my husband asked. “I can’t get a solid feel for copies.”
I thought about the photocopied sheets upstairs, and wondered about that statement. Zach must have seen something on my face, though I could have sworn I’d hidden my puzzlement.
“I like copies for display so I can get a handle on how things fit into the puzzle, but when it comes to getting a feel for something, I have to hold it in my hand.”
“That makes sense to me,” Davis said as he handed a clear plastic envelope to my husband, who took it as if it were loaded with poison. “There’s something else you need to know before you read it.”
“What’s that?” Zach asked, clearly distracted by wondering about the contents of the letter.
“Usually they come here without any routing, but this time it was addressed directly to you.”
Zach frowned as he took the letter, but I felt a chill run through me. It was one thing having my husband investigate the murders from the safety of that room upstairs in police headquarters, but when I realized that the killer was aware of what Zach was doing, it made my heart freeze.
“This isn’t happening,” I said.
Zach read it, then handed it to me.
“Should I?”
“He mentions you, too,” my husband said.
I took the letter and read.
“He’s clearly nuts,” Davis said. “Why would he taunt you? What does it possibly gain him?”
I turned the letter over and saw “4O” written in delicate script on the back. “We’ve got another clue here,” I said.
Zach took it from me, studied it, and then said, “Evidently I’m not as smart as he thinks I am. I have no idea what it means. Does anyone else? Does forty mean anything to anyone?”
“It’s part of a puzzle,” I said without thinking.
“This isn’t one of your creations,” Zach said. “Real killers don’t send clues through the puzzle page.”
“I didn’t say it was,” I replied. “But it’s clear that this guy is intelligent.”
“Not from the way he committed the murders,” Davis said. “He stabbed both victims in their homes. That doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist.”
“Did you find any clues at either of the murder scenes? Did anyone see the victims with the killer? Has he made one single mistake you can point to?”
“No,” Davis reluctantly admitted. “He’s been lucky so far.”
“That, or very good.”
Zach asked, “So, what’s your point?”
I wanted to see something before I pushed my theory any harder. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll tell you.”
Davis started to follow us, but he got a call on his phone. “I’ve got to take this.”
“We’ll see you up there,” Zach said.
“Don’t wait for me. This might take awhile.”
After we left his office, Zach said, “This better be good.”
