this whole thing. They just haven’t necessarily made sense until now.”
“So what is it?” he pressed anxiously. “Did you see another murder? The kid?”
“No, not yet.” I hoped we could make that yet into a never. “I’m pretty sure this one is a clue about the killer’s identity, but I don’t quite know what to make of it.”
“Well spit it out man,” he urged. “What is it?”
“Seattle,” I told him. “Seattle or the Pacific Northwest. I think that’s where he’s from or something.”
I could hear him scribbling notes in his book. Less than half a dozen hours ago, he had considered me a lunatic and possibly even a murderer. Now he was accepting what I said on blind faith. He wasn’t taking any chances.
“What makes you think Seattle?” he asked.
“Rain,” I told him simply and then explained it. “It almost always rains in Seattle. In the vision, I saw Ariel and she told me that it was always raining. I think she’s trying to tell me who the killer is or where he’s from at least.”
“Okay. I’ll check NCIC and call Seattle PD to see if they have any cases similar to ours, open or closed. You got anything else I should know about?”
“I’ve had two other visions, but nothing has clicked yet… except maybe money.”
“Money?” he asked in a perplexed tone.
“It doesn’t make sense to me either but then neither did the rain until just a few minutes ago.”
“No problem. I’ll start makin’ some calls, and I’ll get in touch with ya’ as soon as I know somethin’. If anything else falls into place for ya’, call me right away.”
“I will. Talk to you later. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I gently settled the handset back into its holder, silently grateful that Ben had been willing to believe me this time. I only wished that a young woman hadn’t had to die in order to open his eyes. But then, that wasn’t his fault.
I really didn’t feel like working anymore, but my clients weren’t paying me to track down serial killers; they were paying me to fix their computer software. I turned back to the small tape cartridge and spent the next hour and forty-five minutes earning my living.
It was almost three hours before I heard anything from Ben, and instead of calling, he and Detective Deckert simply appeared at my house. The pendulum clock had just issued an audible announcement of the time, telling me that it was 1:00 in the afternoon when I answered the doorbell.
“What’s for lunch?” Ben said to me as I swung open the front door.
“I was just nuking some lasagna,” I answered.
“That’ll work.”
The dogs scrambled about, nosing one another out of the way in a contest for the attentions of the two visitors. I sent them out the back door as Ben and Deckert seated themselves at the kitchen table.
“Where’s Firehair?” Ben asked, lounging back in his chair.
“Working. She had a shoot for some department store scheduled today.”
“Shouldn’t she be restin’ or somethin’?”
“How long have you known Felicity, Ben?” I returned.
“Yeah. You’re right. Forget I ever asked that.”
“So, I’m assuming you didn’t just come by for lunch,” I told them while preparing the dish of pasta.
“You assume correctly,” Ben returned, “but I still wanna eat.”
“I’m working on that,” I answered and looked over at Deckert who gave me an animated shrug.
“Well, it appears that you’re two for two on this nightmare thing,” Ben started. “We hit paydirt with the Seattle PD. They’ve got an open case that bears a striking resemblance to our four. Especially Ariel Tanner.”
“Coed at the University of Washington, Seattle.” Deckert picked up the thread. “Found dead in her dorm room. She had been skinned in a similar fashion to the Tanner woman, but the autopsy revealed that she was probably already dead due to respiratory arrest.”
“He overdosed her on the curare,” I mused.
“Kinda,” he replied. “Toxicology showed the dose to be too low to have caused respiratory arrest in your average person. Seems this young lady was unlucky enough to be a member of the small percentage of people who are hypersensitive to the drug.”
“Considering what she would have had to endure otherwise,” I observed, “I’m not sure I would call her unlucky in that respect.”
“Yeah,” he grunted, “I see what you mean.”
“The mirror in the room was shattered, and there was a Pentacle inscribed on the wall along with the words ‘All Is Forgiven,’” Ben added. “Not to mention that the door was propped open. Sound familiar?”
“More than just a little,” I answered. “But shouldn’t it have shown up earlier? I thought this was what things like NCIC and VICAP were all about.”
“They are,” he affirmed. “Clerical error. The case was never entered into the database.”
“Lovely… Well, did they turn up any leads?” I queried. “Fingerprints? Anything?”
“No prints,” Deckert answered. “According to their forensics lab, the size and shape of the incisions were consistent with those of a scalpel or a similar cutting implement.”
“There’s a medical school at the University of Washington,” I voiced. “A friend of mine attended it. That would tie in with the curare and the theory about the killer having some kind of medical background as well. When did this happen?”
“A little less than a year ago,” Ben answered this time. “And nothin’ else came up on the NCIC database, so to our knowledge, he hasn’t killed anywhere besides here and Seattle.”
The timer on the microwave beeped, so I stepped over to pull out the tray of lasagna. I moved through the task of dishing it onto plates automatically, still pondering everything that had been said.
“So our killer moved from Seattle to Saint Louis sometime within the last year,” I ventured, “and might have been a medical student at the University of Washington.”
“That’s how it looks,” Deckert acknowledged. “The Seattle PD is compiling a list of the med students they interviewed right now.”
“How soon do you think you’ll hear something?” I placed steaming plates before the two men and absently offered them silverware.
“Hopefully sometime this afternoon,” Ben answered, cutting into the lasagna with his fork. “They’re as anxious to find this asshole as we are.”
“Yeah,” Deckert added. “As if it wasn’t enough that this shithead maimed and killed this girl, it turns out she was the daughter of some big cheese out there. The family posted some obnoxious amount as a reward.” He glanced up from his plate and noticed me leaning against the counter lost in thought. “So are you gonna eat or what?”
For all intents and purposes, I had switched to automatic pilot when the two of them began filling me in on the latest news, and the fact that I was hungry was all but forgotten. Before I could answer, the dogs began yelping loudly, raising their general, happy, canine ruckus at the back gate. A moment later, the reason became obvious when we heard the front door open, followed by Felicity noisily entering.
“Ben, your van is in my parking spot,” her voice came from the other room.
I turned to Detective Deckert. “I guess I’ll get that chance after I heat some up for her.” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the living room and then waved my index finger at the both of them. “I’ll let you two get her caught up with what’s been going on.”
CHAPTER 19
So what’s with this theory about the next victim being a child?” Felicity was mechanically sorting film
