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They arrived at Cape Lumber Supplies at just after eleven.It was a sizable privately owned store on the eastern edge of the city, locatedin a small strip of stores and shops. When Derik parked and they got out of thecar, Morgan felt another of those weird familiar pangs. It was like she hadn’tbeen away for more than a week, but at the same time, she felt like a ghosthaunting a world she could barely remember. She supposed it would be verydifferent if she’d been working alongside anyone other than Derik.
Actually, had it been anyone other than Derik, she doubtedshe would have come back so soon. If at all.
They walked in through a large set of double slidingdoors. The store was one large warehouse of sorts, the back half occupied byenormous shelves with stacks upon stacks of lumber. The smell was pleasant,something like sawdust and a woodsy aroma. The front of the place consisted ofthree different check-out areas that looked quite different from any otherstore Morgan had ever been to. She assumed all of the actual purchasing ofgoods took place in the back.
They headed for one of these check-out kiosks, and Morganapproached a man who looked to be in his early fifties. He greeted them warmlybut the look he gave them made it clear that they weren’t the usual sort thatcame into their store.
“Can I help you folks?” he asked.
“We need to speak with Marcus Black,” Derik said. “Is hein today?”
Morgan noticed how quickly Derik spoke up. He was makingno effort to hide the fact that for now, he expected her to keep a backseatposition. She was only here for her familiarity and expertise…and because itseemed that for some unknown reason, the Seven Signs Killer felt that the twoof them were connected. To stop killing when she was arrested and to start upagain just three days before she was released—they both knew there was nocoincidence there.
“He is,” the man said. “You’ll find him back in aisle six,sawing up some two-by-fours, I think.”
They gave their thanks and made their way back through themaze-like structure of tall shelves. As they neared aisle 6, Morgan could hearthe buzzing of a saw. It grew louder as they came to the aisle and started downit. At the far end, easily thirty yards away, she could see a man hunched overa large pneumatic saw, feeding a pack of cedar through it.
For safety, they waited until the man, presumably Marcus Black,cleared the plank from the saw platform. The unused end clattered to the flooras Black stacked the newly cut two-by-four to the right. He had a nice pilegoing, stacked nearly three feet high.
“Excuse me,” Derik said. “Marcus Black?”
The man turned around, his eyes wide with surprise behindthe protective glasses. The resemblance to the picture they had from thesecurity camera footage was dead-on. It was without a doubt the same man.
“Yeah, that’s me. Who’re you?”
“Special Agents Greene and Cross, FBI,” he said, makingquick work of flashing his badge.
“Okay…um, how can I help you?”
“We have your face on security footage from a parking lotjust off the banks of the Kisanthum River four nights ago. Would you deny beingthere if pressed?”
“No,” he said with a slight tremor of fear in his voice. “Iwas there.”
“Why?” Morgan asked.
Black’s eyes darted between the two agents, a nervoussweat breaking out on his forehead. He swallowed hard before finally speaking. “I…Ilike to go there to think. It’s a quiet place, you know?”
“That late at night?”
“That’s when it’s quiet. I like the sounds, you know?Crickets, frogs.”
You said you went there to think. What were you thinkingabout that night?”
Black hesitated before answering. “Just…life, I guess. Ihad a lot on my mind.”
“Can you be more specific?” Derik asked, leaning in alittle closer.
Black took a step back, his eyes darting aroundnervously. “I don’t know, man. Just stuff. Work, bills, that kind of thing.” Hewas getting agitated and, Morgan thought, a bit defensive.
Plus, Morgan could tell he was lying. There was somethingin the way he avoided eye contact, in the way he fidgeted with his hands, thattold her he was hiding something. She decided to go in for a more directapproach.
“Mr. Black, several hours after your face appeared onthat footage, four people were found dead on the banks. They’d been drowned.And upon doing background checks on them, we determined that one was a nurse atthe hospital where you were treated for a broken arm a few months ago.”
“What? Four…dead?”
“Yes.” She was quite certain he was still lying, but hedid seem shocked. “What can you tell us about that?”
“Nothing…nothing, I swear.”
