Shes just a prop, I said, looking at the woman, wishing I knew her name, wishing that I could still make out the features of her face. This is a set. This entire thing was staged to look like my mothers death. Exactly like it. My stomach twisted sharply.
Okay, Agent Locke said. So Im the killer. Im fixated on you, and Im fixated on your mother. Maybe she was my first kill, but this time, it isnt about your mother.
Its about you. Dean picked up where Agent Locke had left off. Im not trying to relive her death. Im trying to force you to relive discovering her.
The UNSUB had wanted me here. The presents, the coded message, and now thisa corpse dumped in a crime scene strikingly like my mothers.
Briggs. One of Briggss agentsStarmansstuck his head into the room. Medical examiner and the forensics team are here. Do you want me to hold them off?
Briggs looked at Dean, at me, and then at Sloane, still kneeling next to the body. Wed been careful not to touch anything or disturb the crime scene, but plopping three teenagers down in the middle of a murder investigation wasnt exactly covert. Briggs, Locke, and their team obviously knew about us, but I wasnt convinced that the rest of the FBI did, and Briggs confirmed that when he glanced from Starmans to Locke.
Get them out of here, Starmans, Briggs said. I want you, Brooks, and Vance rotating through on Cassies protection detail. Director Sterling has offered some of his best men for surveillance. Theyll keep an eye on the house from the outside, but I want one of you with Cassie at all times, and tell Judd that the house arrest is still in effect. No one leaves that house until this killer is caught.
I didnt fight the orders.
I didnt fight to stay there in the room, looking for clues.
There werent any. This was never about me figuring out who this killer was. This was always, always about the UNSUB playing with me, forcing me to relive the worst day of my life.
Sloane slipped an arm around my waist. There are fourteen varieties of hugs, she said. This is one of them.
Locke put a hand on my shoulder and steered the two of us out of the room, Dean on our heels.
This is a game . I heard Deans voice echoing through my memory. Its always a game . That was what hed told Michael, and at the time, Id agreed. To the killer, this was a gameand suddenly, I couldnt help thinking that the good guys might not win this one.
We might lose.
I might lose.
CHAPTER 33
You okay? he asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
Fine, I replied. It was a stock answer, perfected around the Sunday night dinner table. I was a survivor. Whatever life threw at me, I came out okay, and the rest of the world thought I was great. Id been faking things for so long that, until the past few weeks with Michael, Dean, Lia, and Sloane, Id forgotten what it was like to be real.
Youre a tough kid, Agent Starmans told me.
I wasnt in the mood to talk, and I especially wasnt in the mood to be patted metaphorically on the head. All I wanted was to be left alone and given a chance to process, to recover.
Youre divorced, I replied. Sometime within the past four years, maybe five. Long
enough ago that you should have moved on.
I normally made it a rule not to take the things I deduced about people and turn them into weapons, but I needed space. I needed to breathe . I stood and walked over to the window. Agent Starmans cleared his throat.
What do you think the UNSUB is going to do? I asked wearily. Take me out with a sniper rifle?
Not this killer. Hed want up close and personal. You didnt have to be a Natural profiler to see that.
Why dont you cut the poor agent some slack, Colorado? Im fairly certain making grown men cry is Lias specialty, not yours. Michael didnt bother knocking before entering the room and giving Agent Starmans his most charming smile.
Im not making anyone cry, I said mutinously.
Michael turned his gaze on me. Underneath your ticked-off-that-they-wont-leave-me-alone-and-even-more-ticked-off-that-Im-scared-to-actually-be-alone exterior, I detect a slight trace of guilt, which suggests that you did say something below the belt, and youre feeling the tiniest bit bad for using your powers for evil, and he Michael jerked his head toward Agent Starmansis fighting down-turned lips and furrowed eyebrows. I dont need to tell you what that means, do I?
Please dont, Agent Starmans muttered.
Of course, theres also his posture, which suggests some level of sexual frustration
Agent Starmans took a step forward. He towered over Michael, but Michael just kept smiling, undeterred.
No offense.
Ill be out in the hall, Agent Starmans said. Keep the door open.
It took me a moment after the agent retreated to realize that Michael had put him on the spot on purpose.
Were you really reading his posture? I whispered.
Michael ducked his head next to mine, a delightfully wicked smile on his face. Unlike you, I have no problems using my ability for nefarious purposes. He reached up and ran his thumb over the edge of my lip and onto my cheek. You have something on your face.