by Gina LaManna
“Maybe,” I muttered, “but Flystone wouldn’t give them up that easily.”
“I don’t need outsiders to keep tabs on you when I can see everything I need for myself,” Clint said. “I can read you like a book, Agent Brody. Always have been able to, always will be able to. Why do you think it took you so long to catch me? ”
“Your killing spree didn’t last forever.”
“No, but I had a good run while it lasted.”
Brody slammed his hands on the table, leaned forward. “What makes you say I don’t have a family, Flystone?”
“Because it’s you.” Clint blinked at Brody’s advance but otherwise didn’t flinch. “You don’t deserve a family. You know it. I know it. We all know it. And so long as you know it, you’ll never have one.”
“I always hated his psychoanalysis babble,” Jack said. “I think that’s one of the reasons Flystone got under Brody’s skin. The guy can pick up on a person’s weaknesses in just a few minutes. Trust me, it’s eerie.”
“He doesn’t know me,” I said. “He wouldn’t know my strengths or weaknesses.”
Russo looked at me. “Yes, he would. You know I think you’re the best, Kate, but this guy is different.”
“You like to say you’re married to the job,” Clint continued, his eyes focused on Agent Brody, “but you’re not. It’s just one form of self-sabotage. Would any male in the prime of his life become as obsessed with me as you did if they had a healthy balance in their life?” Clint shook his head. “Nah. You don’t have a woman or a family to go home to at night, and you never will.”
Brody stood up and walked around his chair, obviously taking a couple of deep breaths. “What do you know about a recent murder in Minnesota?”
Clint looked up with interest. “Do I need my lawyer for this?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“If you need more than my alibi, maybe,” Clint said. “I’m pretty sure my lawyer won’t mind me telling you my alibi. I was here. Locked up. Check the tapes.”
“I did. I know you didn’t kill anyone this time. Not directly.”
“You think I’m involved.”
“I think you know more than you say about everything.”
“That’s true,” Clint admitted. “Just because I like to have facts stashed in my pockets doesn’t mean I like to share them with whoever marches in here. I don’t have to either. I gave you everything you needed for a conviction. I’m still locked up here. What more do you want?”
“You didn’t give me everything,” Agent Brody said. “Why them? Why’d you choose the people you killed?”
That faint, amused smile returned to Clint’s lips. I recognized it now for what it was—a mask. A very effective one at that. It was difficult to tell if Clint Flystone was ruffled, annoyed, amused, or any number of other emotions. He just looked perpetually intrigued and simultaneously disinterested. It was unnerving. I wondered if it was something that came naturally to him or if it was a defense he’d perfected over his criminal lifetime.
“Why does that bother you so much?” Clint asked. “I gave you everything you need. Time and location of deaths, names of victims, locations of bodies that you hadn’t even found. Why are you stuck on the motive?”
“Because nobody—not even a psychopath—kills without some reason,” Brody said. “So why the big secret?”
“No reason.”
“I still think you worked with an accomplice. I’m going to find him or her. And when I do, I’m not settling for a plea bargain. If they’re guilty, I’m going for broke, and they’re getting the death penalty.”
“You have never given up looking, have you?” Clint asked, that smile toying with his lips. “It’s sad, Agent Brody. You’ve spent so much of your life looking for my alleged partner in crime that you’ve never found yours. You’re still a lonely man.”
“And you? If you’re such a loner, then you must know how it feels firsthand.”
“Being alone and being lonely are two different things.”
“Maybe.”
“I grew up without siblings,” Clint said. “I learned how to be alone. You, with your two brothers, always needed someone else around. Then there was your mother, your sweet mother... How’s her garden, by the way? I always liked watching her tend the tulips. There was this one apron she wore that—”
Clint Flystone was interrupted as Brody dashed around the table and grabbed Clint by the collar. He raised him up, and jerked Flystone’s body until he was pressed to the wall. Clint’s head clanked backward, hard, but not enough to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Always did know how to push your buttons, Brody.” Clint smiled brighter. “Guard, is this legal? I’m going to need my lawyer if this agent doesn’t get his hands off me.”
I pushed around Russo and walked into the interrogation room without permission. It was my case, after all, and it was obvious Brody needed a rest. I moved to him, set a hand gently but sternly on his arm.
Agent Brody relaxed, making a frustrated noise in his throat. It was obvious he’d have preferred to keep his hands on Clint a while longer, but even in the short time it’d taken me to get into the room, he’d calmed down enough to realize he’d overstepped. He backed away, then let himself out of the room, leaving me alone with Flystone.
“Oh, the nice cop has arrived.” Clint gave me a smile that felt warm and genuine. “You’re a new one. Welcome.”
“I’m Detective Kate Rosetti,” I said. “I’m investigating a murder in Minnesota.”
“Ah, down from the Twin Cities.”
“I didn’t say anything about the Twin Cities,” I said, moving around the table and taking a seat opposite Clint. He sat too. “Do you know anyone up there in the Cities?”
“I’m not sure anymore. See, I’ve been in here a long time. People move, things change. You’d be surprised, Kate, how few people want to keep in touch with you once you’ve been locked up.”
“Oh, trust me, I know the drill.” It was annoying, his use of my first name, as if we were old friends.
“Ah, I see.” Clint nodded. “You’re an easy one to read too. You’ve got personal experience with the system.”
“My record is completely clean,” I said. “Sorry, but you’re wrong. I’ve never had so much as a speeding ticket.”
“I didn’t say you were a troublemaker, no, but someone in your family. A brother? A father, maybe? Yes, probably a father figure. It would explain why you’re still single.”
I refrained from asking how he could possibly know whether I was single.
Clint nodded toward my hand. “You’re not married. Probably not in a serious relationship. I understand daddy issues make it hard to commit.”
I leaned back and crossed my arms. “Now you’re a psychologist?”
“I like to understand who I’m talking to,” Flystone said. “Now, you must’ve been young when it happened. I’m going to say five to seven years old. Definitely under ten. If you were older, you’d have rebelled differently. You might’ve ended up in the system, just like me, instead of working for it.”
I realized instantly that Russo had been correct about Flystone. It was creepy how much this man had pieced together in a matter of minutes. It’d taken weeks for me to voluntarily disclose most of that information to Russo. It was also easy to see why Brody might’ve latched on to this case and found it hard to let go. Something about Clint Flystone was getting to me too.
My eyes flicked up toward the camera. Normally, I didn’t focus on anything but the case when I was working, but this trail of conversation was making me a little self-conscious. I was aware Brody and Russo were on the other side, listening in to every word.
“Interesting.” Clint eyed me with a knowing little grin. “Was I wrong? Are you in a relationship with Agent Brody? He could’ve done worse, that’s for sure. You seem smart, and quite pretty too, I must add. I’m sure Brody will sabotage the good thing you two have going sooner or later. You’ve both got bagga
ge. Did he tell you about why he joined the FBI?”
“That’s not relevant now.”
“I see. You either haven’t gotten that deep into your relationship, or he’s keeping things from you. Which is it?”
“Start talking to me about this murder in Minnesota,” I said, “or we’re out of here.”
“What do I get out of it?”
“Absolutely nothing.” I glanced pointedly around the room. “You might think you’re high and mighty. You might think you know Agent Brody better than anyone, but it doesn’t matter. Because we can walk out that door and leave, and you can’t—ever.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Okay, then we’ll go,” I said. “But if it turns out that you have any link to the crime, I’m going to work with Agent Brody to make sure that whoever killed Travis is going to get what’s coming to them. This is your chance to help us out on behalf of any friends you might still have—or think you have—on the outside.”
“I don’t have an accomplice. I never did.”
“How’d you choose your victims?” I asked. “Two minutes with you, and I can tell you it wasn’t random.”
“Okay.”
“You’re Mr. Psychologist, which means you’d have analyzed your victims and picked the ones who meant something to you. What was it about these people that made them worthy choices of your attention?”
“Worthy.” He gave a bark of laughter. “You know I’m not saying a word.”
“Okay.” I stood. “No skin off my nose. We’ll catch them, one way or another. You’d better hope it’s nobody you care about.”
“If it’s not Agent Brody, then who is it?”
I paused en route to the door. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not sleeping with Brody. You relaxed when I started talking about him.” Flystone’s eyes followed me closely. “Every time I hit on something too close to the truth, you tensed up and got this look in your eye, a little flash of anger. Most people wouldn’t notice it. But most people aren’t looking for it.”
“None of your business.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
I finished making my way to the door and knocked for the guard to let me out. As it opened, Clint cleared his throat.
“Don’t worry, Detective Kate Rosetti, I can find things out too.” Clint’s amused smile had returned. “I’ll find out who’s warming your bed.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Kate.” Russo’s voice called through the door. “Leave it alone.”
As I glanced over my shoulder one last time before leaving, Clint’s smile had widened. He was right, and he knew it. I wanted nothing more than to slap cuffs on the guy and see him arrested all over again for the crimes he’d committed. But since that wasn’t possible, I’d have to settle for the fact that I could walk out of the prison a free woman, and he would never be able to leave.
Chapter 15
“EVERYBODY COOL?” RUSSO was behind the wheel of the FBI rental SUV.
I’d offered the front seat to Brody when we’d started our trip back, but he’d turned it down and had opted to sit in the back. We were an hour into the trek, and except for directions and the required polite niceties of car rides, nobody had spoken a word.
“I’m fine.” I glanced in the mirror at Brody. “I can see why this was a hard case to let go.”
“Flystone’s a coldhearted bastard.” Brody shook his head. “You think I’d get used to it with all the murderers I’ve faced, but he’s different.”
“I see what you mean,” I agreed. “It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what it is, but it’s there. He’s very intelligent and perceptive, but I’ve come across other smart criminals before. It’s more than that.”
“He doesn’t show remorse, but again, that’s not unusual,” Brody said. “I don’t know what it is, and maybe that’s what bothers me above all.”
“I’m not sure it matters,” Russo said. “What matters is that you caught him, Brody. He’s locked away. You never have to see him again.”
“I thought that the last time I put him away,” Brody said. “Yet here we are. I get the feeling he’s the sort of guy that crops up over and over again throughout a career, just to keep needling me.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m invested in seeing Flystone remain in prison for life too,” I said.
“Sorry about the wasted trip.” Brody shook his head in disgust. “I’m having a hard time figuring out if there was really enough to connect the two cases, or if it was just in my head. Maybe I’m making connections where there are none.”
“Dr. Brooks agreed there might be a link between my case and Flystone’s,” I said. “Melinda is incredibly smart and incredibly detail orientated. If she didn’t think it was worth the gas of the road trip, she would’ve told me. She’s also incredibly honest.”
“Well, that’s something,” Brody said. “Glad to hear it. Thanks.”
“By the way, it wasn’t a wasted trip,” I said. “He gave us one piece of information that might be useful.”
Brody leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
“His victims weren’t random,” I said. “I think we can all safely agree on that.”
“Right. But I’ve looked through every connection I could conceive of and found nothing.”
“It was his laugh that gave it away,” I said. “He gave an almost derisive snort when I asked how he determined who was worthy. That was his slipup.”
Russo nodded as if the light bulb had clicked on over his head. “He didn’t think they were worthy at all. The opposite.”
“What’s even more important is that my question got an emotional rise out of him, however slight.”
“He reacted without thinking,” Brody said as if in awe. “He never does that. But you’re right. Rosetti, that tells us something.”
“It might help us turn up a link between his victims.”
“He could have thought his victims did something to deserve a death sentence,” Russo said. “He might’ve even been doing a good deed, in his mind.”
“It could explain some of the lack of remorse,” Brody said. “Yes, he’s a sociopath, but he’s probably the hero of his own twisted story.”
“I think we need to take another look at Flystone’s victims,” I said. “Mind if I task one of my colleagues to do it? Fresh eyes and all. Plus, she’s the savviest technical mind in the state when it comes to computers and algorithms and whatever else she does.”
“Go for it,” Brody said. “If she can turn over a stone I missed, more power to her.”
I dialed Asha and explained the situation to her. I could hear her scribble a few notes onto a notepad next to her. Then I heard some whispered conversation.
“I’m going to bring Chloe in on this,” Asha said when I’d finished. “Cool? You don’t mind if I borrow her for a few more days?”
“Be my guest,” I said. “Let us know if you find anything, okay?”
“Of course,” Asha said. “By the way, are you still going to Gem’s party tonight?”
“Yes.” I glanced at the clock. “I knew we’d be late, but I want to make sure we swing by. Will you be there?”
“I wasn’t invited,” Asha said. “Not to mention, me and Chloe have enough work here to keep us up all night. Talk to you tomorrow.”
BY THE TIME RUSSO AND I made it home, after a brief stop at the precinct to send Brody off on his own, we were well and truly late to the engagement party. We found Jane waiting for us at my house, dressed to the nines, when we walked in the door.
“Hurry up,” she said. “Yes, the party will run all night, but you’re very, very late. Your outfit and shoes are ready for you.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the party yourself?” I asked, taking off my gun and badge. “Why are you here?”
“I popped back after the main course to make sure you weren’t going to ditch out,” Jane said. “Plus, I had to make sure you w
ore the correct dress. Move it, move it.”
After a quick shower made even quicker, knowing that Jane was waiting for me, I slipped into the dress Jane had selected for me and allowed my sister to lead me into her room. I mostly closed my eyes as Jane stuck some things onto my chest to supposedly hold me in place. Without permission, she then attacked my face with a powdering blush and lipstick tube. After the mascara went on, she mercifully stepped back and declared that I was done.
“Jane, no, I can’t pull this off.”
“Wrong. You are pulling it off.”
I took a look in the mirror. The front of the dress was quite simple, a long, black maxi gown that draped beautifully over my figure. It was when I turned sideways, then all the way around, that the dress really began to shine. It had a dramatic drop all the way to my waist, leaving the back wide open. If I saw someone else wearing it, I’d have thought they looked beautiful and confident. Seeing myself in it just looked odd. Like a peanut butter and ketchup sandwich.
“I don’t know, Jane—”
“If you want to get to the party before midnight,” Russo called through the partially closed door, “then we need to leave now. We’ll have missed any food they served, which is unfortunate seeing as that’s my favorite part of any Gem party.”
“Get in here, Jack,” Jane called. “You’re going to have to drag Kate out of here. She’s not cooperating.”
“That’s not—” I began to argue when the door opened and in came Jack.
He took one look at me and gave a low whistle. It didn’t take a detective to see the appreciation in his eyes. “One look at that dress, and all of a sudden, I don’t care about Gem’s buffet anymore.”
The three of us piled into my car. I drove, Jack sat next to me, and Jane chattered in the back, giving us a rundown of the party and who was in attendance. I was half listening to her and half uber-conscious of the fact that my dress was missing a back. Jack didn’t seem to mind. He rested a hand on my leg the entire car ride.
“It’s sort of a small party,” Jane was saying. “I mean, on an Alastair Gem scale. It’s mostly people from Mindy’s side. Her relatives and colleagues. She’s a lawyer, so it’s kind of a stiff crowd, you know? There was no dancing or anything. Honestly, I was relieved for an excuse to get out of there for a bit.”
