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“So what do we do?” Michael asked. “Where do we go from here? Do we release Nina and say we don’t have enough evidence?”
Faith sighed and pressed her hands to her eyes. “Damn it. I wish… Well, wishes were horses, beggars would ride, yadda yadda.”
“I don’t think yadda yadda is necessary if you complete the phrase,” Michael observed. Faith glared at him, and he shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
"Not really looking for light right now," Faith said. She tapped her finger on the table. "That's another thing that makes me think Nina's not the killer. Our killer's a coward. On the surface, the crimes don't look cowardly, but if you examine them, they are. He's going through this elaborate process because he feels he has to, but he's doing it as quickly as he can, and he's leaving as little evidence as he can. He definitelywouldn't invite two FBI agents and a K-9 to his house where he keeps the powder he's using to complete the spell and a painting of the crimes he's committed."
Michael frowned again. “Okay. You’ve convinced me now. Damn it. So we release Nina, but then what? Where do we go next? I know I’m asking that a lot, but I’m not coming up with an answer. A nice Faith Bold stroke of brilliance would be great right now.”
Faith would have loved one of those herself, but nothing came to mind. “We need to go back to the beginning,” she said. “We need to look at the case from the very start and rebuild our profile. We’re missing something key. That final piece that will tell us exactly where to look.”
“But you’re sure it’s not Nina?”
She paused for a long time before saying. “Don’t release her yet. It could just be cognitive dissonance. Let’s rebuild our profile and then look at it again. Worst-case scenario, she spends a night in jail, and we send her home with our apologies in the morning.”
“Fine with me,” Michael said with a sigh. “But I’m getting coffee and snacks if we’re going to stay up late. You want anything from the convenience store?”
“Whatever you get is fine.”
“The spiciest chips they have and guava juice. Got it.”
Faith managed a half-hearted smile at Michael’s half-hearted joke. She looked at Turk, who continued to watch her intently. “I wish you could talk, boy. I wish I knew exactly what you smelled at the crime scenes. Then I might know if we caught the right bad guy or if he’s still out there putting someone’s life in danger.”
She looked out the window at the lights of the city and hoped that in one of the dark corners the lights didn’t reach, an innocent young woman wasn’t breathing her last.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Michael returned fifteen minutes later and handed Faith a coffee and a bag that contained an orange juice, a protein bar, a bag of roasted peanuts and a blueberry muffin. She looked up at him and said, “Does Ellie know you eat like a five-year-old?”
“Where did you grow up that five-year-olds eat protein bars?” he asked. “But yes. Also, if you want something different, you can go shopping next time.”
"You got coffee, too," she pointed out. "The break room actually has some of that."
“Ditto,” Michael replied. He sat across from her and bit into his own protein bar. “So, starting from the beginning.”
“Yes. I’ll start though so you don’t have to chew with your mouth open.”
He rolled his eyes and gave her the finger.
“Just saying,” Faith replied. “So, the key to this is the Magnum Opus. That’s this guy’s entire focus.”
“Yep. Got that.”
“So the details matter. That’s why he’s following every instruction to the letter in each murder despite his cowardice.”
“So we’re looking for missing details,” Michael summarized.
“Yes.”
“So we should start by looking at the details we have.”
“Excellent work, Michael,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
He rolled his eyes again but didn’t flip her off this time.
“so we know that the shapes matter. Inner circle, square, triangle.”
“And the outer circle is left.”
