"That seems unlikely if the killer's a Navarre vampire," Luc said. "McKetrick doesn't like vampires."
"And nobody likes Navarre vampires," Lindsey muttered. Giving up the facade of working at her computer station, she pulled out a chair and joined us at the table. "Maybe the killer, the vampire, doesn't like McKetrick. Maybe he got his hands on a weapon, and he enjoys implicating McKetrick as much as McKetrick enjoys implicating us."
I nodded. That sounded entirely logical. Unfortunately, we had no evidence to support it.
"While we're talking," Jeff said, "I'm doing some poking around. I've got more evidence it's not McKetrick - at least, not him personally."
"That was fast," Luc said.
"Ya. I popped onto his official city Web site for 'S's and 'G's, and he's got an alibi. According to the numerous photos they've thrown onto the Web with no apparent artistic sensibility, he's been on a fund-raising junket with Mayor Kowalcyzk."
"Any chance the pics aren't legit?" Luc asked.
"Let me check," Jeff said. "I can run them through a program that flags image manipulation. Beep beep boop boop."
Luc, Juliet, Lindsey, and I looked around at one another.
I squinted at the phone. "I'm sorry, Jeff, did you just say 'beep beep boop boop'?"
"Computer sound effects," he said, as if I'd asked him to explain the most obvious conclusion in the world.
"All right. Here we go. So, I've only checked one, but let's say it's obvious Diane's had a bit of digital work done. Unfortunately, the image of McKetrick is legit. It wasn't copied or pasted into the shot, which means he was really there with her. Sorry about that."
"Wait," Lindsey said, "what kind of digital work done?" She loved celebrity gossip, and had once graced the cover of a Chicago tabloid because of her fierce vampire style. Luc had not been amused.
"Focus," Luc said. "And never apologize for facts. We had questions about McKetrick's involvement, but you've helped us tie off that loose end. He's alibied for those murders, so we won't waste time on that angle. It is a bummer, though. I would have enjoyed pinning some good old-fashioned felonious behavior on him."
If Luc hadn't been a centuries-old vampire, I'd have called his expression a pout.
"It does leave us without a suspect," Juliet said.
"That it does," I agreed ruefully.
"What do we know?" Luc asked, scanning the whiteboard.
"Do we have any Navarre vamps even on the radar?" Lindsey asked, scanning the whiteboard.
"Not at the moment," I said. "But we're looking for one. Someone who kills in pairs, uses the same method of murder, and poses the bodies the same way. He's willing to cross the House/Rogue divide, as he's moved from killing Rogue vampires to killing Housed vampires."
"Or he's escalated from Rogues to the House," Jeff suggested, "depending on his attitude."
Luc nodded, pleased at the conclusion. "Good thought. Profile?"
I frowned, thinking it through. If I were this guy, and I'd done these things, who would I be?
"He's smart," I said. "Clever, and he likes to show off. He went from killing in an abandoned building to killing in Navarre House, with the bodies left in clear view of the House. He's methodical. He likes to set a scene."
Luc tapped his fingertips on the table rhythmically. "It's a good profile, except we have no concrete evidence to go with it."
He slapped a hand on the table. "And that's our job, people. Find me some evidence, before he decides to put Cadogan House back on his radar. I'll talk to Will at Navarre House. I don't think we'll be able to finagle interviews with the Navarre vampires, not given the mood over there, but it's worth a call. And maybe he's got some thoughts about any off-balance Novitiates who fit our profile. Mr. Christopher, I think we're done with you for now. Thanks for your help."
"Anytime," Jeff said, and the line went dead.
I turned back to the board, then walked over and erased McKetrick's name from our list of suspects. Where that left us I had no idea, but I had a very bad feeling more bodies were going to pile up before we got any closer.
* * *
When I'd stared at the board for an hour more, drawing and erasing straight and dotted lines between the facts that seemed to connect together, Luc suggested I take a break and say hello to Ethan. He was confident we needed to talk something out, and thought the middle of a crisis was a good time to do it.
"And, speaking of which," Luc said, "do you want to tell us what the hell went on with you and our beloved Master this evening?"
The entire Ops Room turned around to look at me. My chest burned hot. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Luc watched me for a moment, then shook his head. "Sentinel, that dog won't hunt."
"I don't know what that means. Is that cowboy wisdom, or a movie quote?"
Luc was a movie lover, and a constant movie quoter. But his eyes narrowed in disdain. "It's movie wisdom. And the next movie night, you're going to sit your butt down and watch Roadhouse like a good little vampire, or I'm giving you a nice little demerit for your file." He waved a hand in the air, dismissing the conversation. "But the sentiment stands. Go talk to him."
"We're in the middle of a fight."
Lindsey humphed. "All due respect, Mer, the cloud of emotional doom that is hovering over this House made that pretty obvious."
I winced. "Cloud of emotional doom?"
"You and Ethan have major chemistry, but you also have major magical spillover. When you're happy - when you're doing it regular, and don't give me that look - there's a nice, happy vibe in the House. When you're pissed off, the thundercloud of doom lurks above us and rains its funk down upon us all."
"I think you're overstating this a smidge."
She shook her head, convinced. "You say that because you can't feel it; you're already knee-deep in angst. Problem is, you're kicking it our way, too." She faux shuddered. "It's like a teenager's emo birthday party in here."
"And you don't think the GP ceremony and the chance we'll lose the House have anything to do with that?"
"Only thirty-five or forty percent," Luc said. "The rest of it's all you."
It wasn't exactly a vote of confidence that they thought I was sixty percent responsible for the House's bad mojo. But . . . "Be that as it may, they've created a war room up there, and they're focused on not losing the House. I'd prefer not to bother him until that problem's been solved."