“Glen Fisher is an evil, evil man,” Claire declared out of nowhere. She stopped walking, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the silver ballpoint pen that had been on Glen’s desk. “I took this. I shouldn’t have, but I did. His wife won’t miss it. If she does, I’ll claim to have taken it by accident, and return it immediately.”
“It’s significant?” Casey asked.
“It’s emanating powerful energy.” Claire eyed the pen, still glassy-eyed and unhinged from the enormity of what she’d picked up on in Glen Fisher’s study. “He used this for sketching out his crimes, and for taking notes on future crimes. He’s done unspeakable things. His wife has good reason to be terrified of him—even if he is in prison. He has a way of reaching the outside world even from his cell.”
That brought Casey’s head up. She’d planned on waiting until they were back in the office to grill Claire. But what she’d just said shot those intentions to hell.
“What does that mean—he reaches the outside world from his cell? Did you pick up something about whoever he passed the baton to? Who the new offender is? What their arrangement is?”
“No. Maybe. I’m not sure.” Claire shoved the pen back in her pocket. Ignoring the stream of pedestrians who were muttering as they veered around her, she remained at a standstill, massaging her temples.
“My brain is about to explode, there’s so much pounding at it right now,” she said. “I need to go home. I need to be alone and think. There are too many stimuli shouting at me. The traffic and city noise doesn’t help. Outside stimuli. Inside stimuli. I need to be in my own private space so I can sort things out and make sense out of chaos. Give me some time.” Her complexion was ashen. “I’ll call you the moment I make sense of things.”
* * *
The evening hours rolled by.
Suzanne spent them pacing around her bedroom. She was worried. She was scared. And she was ready to jump out of her skin.
Finally, her cell phone rang. She snatched it up, quickly accepted the charges and waited to hear Glen’s voice at the other end.
“Glen.” She breathed his name. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you for hours—ever since the detectives and the FBI agents left.” Her voice trembled. “They practically ransacked the apartment.”
“I’m sure they did,” her husband said in an offhand tone. “Just as I’m sure they found nothing.” A pointed pause. “Because there’s nothing to find, right?”
“Of course, right.” Suzanne shoved her hair behind her ear. “I did what you asked. I answered their questions and gave them free access to the entire apartment. I cooperated fully.”
“Good girl. What did they take with them?”
“Just bank statements and our address book. There was nothing else that jumped out at them.”
“Speaking of bank statements, did you handle this month’s withdrawal and payment the way I asked?”
“Yes. I withdrew the cash two days ago, right on schedule. But I spoke to our landlord, and held off on making yesterday’s rent payment. I’ll make it first thing tomorrow—along with the other necessary installment.”
“Good. That’ll keep our bank record seamless for the cops’ eyes. But it’ll also defer our financial exchange until their emphasis is totally on me and off you.” There was a smug note in Glen’s tone. “You’re a sweet, gentle soul. After today, you’ll be scratched off law enforcement’s list. You did a fine job. I’m proud of you.”
Suzanne soaked in the praise, but she didn’t relax. She wasn’t sure how Glen was going to receive the next segment of information she was about to impart.
“They weren’t the only ones who were here for the search.”
“Oh?”
“Three members of the Forensic Instincts team showed up. I let them in. I hope that wasn’t a mistake.” She held her breath, praying Glen wouldn’t go ballistic.
He did anything but.
“Forensic Instincts? What a nice added bonus. Which three members?”
“Claire Hedgleigh, Marc Devereaux and Casey Woods.”
“This just gets better and better.” There was a smile in Glen’s voice. “Tell me about the meeting.”
Suzanne replayed the entire conversation, as close to verbatim as she could.
“They’re doing reconnaissance,” Glen noted. “Just a fishing expedition, since you didn’t give them a thing to work with. But I’m very pleased that they’re involved. Feel free to answer their phone calls and visits. Be gracious, but be tight-lipped.”
“You think they’ll come back?” Suzanne tensed. “You just said I’d be scratched off the list.”