Chapter 16
***
Kate and Marcus got a room at a small economy hotel near the airport and looked over the new crime scene photos Winters sent them.
They were identical to the other scenes.
Both victims had been thrown to the ground and strangled from the front, rapidly enough that they lost consciousness before they could incur any defensive wounds.
Both scenes revealed objects oddly placed.
In Ruth Osgood’s case, the object was a stone dog statue about eighteen inches high.
It looked like a lawn ornament, but it was sitting on top of Osgood’s bed facing the bedroom window.
The object in Paul Delaney’s home was more subtle. A single silver cufflink sitting in a key bowl. Two keys were carefully arranged to form a cradle so the cufflink pointed up at the window in the front door.
“I want to go to Knoxville,” Kate said. “Paul was the first victim. That’s the beginning of whatever story Cox is trying to tell.”
“I’ll get us a flight for first thing in the morning.”
While Marcus booked their flight, Kate studied the photograph of the cufflink.
“He took a lot of care with that scene,” Kate said. “I wonder why.”
“You don’t think it was just because he wanted it to face the window?”
“Yes, but why place the cufflink in a key bowl? Why not somewhere else on the table?”
Marcus frowned. “Yeah, that’s a good point. Why would placing it in a key bowl make a difference?”
She tilted her head. “Maybe that’s the piece we’re missing. Not just placing it near a window, but in a specific location. The window is for people to see, but maybe he wants them to see more than just the stolen item.”
She began to pace as she worked this out. “What do the locations mean?”
“Well, we’ve got a bedroom, two living rooms, a bathroom, a foyer, and a kitchen. I’m… somewhat at a loss.”
Kate folded her arms across her chest. “Gloria wanted to not be seen. So she hid her thefts.”
“Not very well.”
“Not very well, no, but it’s intention that Cox is punishing here. No, more than just intention. Behavior.”
“So the bathroom because… unseen things happen there?”
Kate’s brow furrowed. “No, that’s too crass. Cox wouldn’t be that crude in his symbolism.”
“I mean… the last killer cut people’s genitals off.”
“Yes, but she was acting on rage. She was working on Cox’s behalf, but she was also punishing the victims. Cox is correcting them.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. Kate looked sharply at him. “Got something to say to that?”
“No, not at all. Your instincts have carried us so far. There’s no reason to doubt them now. It’s just… Correcting is such a bullshit excuse.”
She calmed now that she realized he wasn’t attacking her thought process. “Yeah, I know. The point is Cox’s symbol is different.” She started to pace again. “Gloria tried to make amends at the end. She tried to call Olivia.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You think the bathroom was a reminder that Gloria couldn’t wash away her sins?”
“I think so,” Kate said. “Gloria tried to make things right, but in Cox’s mind, they couldn’t be made right.”
“So he’s not into repentance?”
“He is, but he views correction as necessary regardless of repentance.”
Marcus nodded. “Okay. So the bathroom is a reminder that Gloria couldn’t wash away her sins. What about the living room?”
Kate chewed on her lip. “Warren Schulz’s home was bare of anything decorative. The only object that wasn’t an appliance or furniture was that ceramic bird. But there were other objects.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Other stolen objects?”
“I think so. I think Warren was trying to make amends by giving back what he stole. The bird was the last one.”
“So Cox was making it clear that even making it right didn’t make the sin go away.”
“Yes,” Kate said. “I think that’s it exactly. And Karen De Luca’s music box was pushed outside of the curtains she used to hide her house.”
“Can’t hide it, can’t wash your hands of it, and can’t take it back. That leaves the kitchen, the key bowl, and the bedroom.”
“It could be that the kitchen suggests Prescott was feeding off of his theft.”
“How? There’s no record of him pawning the watches he stole.”
“Not feeding literally. Feeding spiritually.”
Marcus nodded. “Okay. I buy that. So the bedroom is what? Dreaming of theft?”
“Or maybe loving it.”
“Okay. So what’s the key bowl?”
Kate shook her head. “That part I still don’t know.”
Marcus rubbed his chin. “Well, I think we’re on the right track. Let’s let it percolate over the night.” He headed to the nearest of the room’s two beds. “I’m going to bed. I’ll shower in the morning.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go ahead and shower now, then.”
He gave her a thumbs up and climbed into bed. One of the beds. He’d made sure to ask for a double.
Kate grabbed her change of clothes and took them into the bathroom. She’d make sure she was fully dressed before she came out. After all, they were just partners, not lovers.
She felt a pang at that thought. She did love him as a friend, if not more. And she wanted to love him as more than a friend. Heaven knew she was attracted to him, but it wasn’t just sexual desire. He was funny, he was kind, he was strong, he didn’t seem to mind that she was broken and messed up.
Her shoulders slumped. Except he did mind. He felt that her fragile emotions would lead to her getting hurt. So it was a noble, protective feeling that caused him to resent her brokenness, but he resented it anyway.
Maybe that was the true wall between them.
She could get over his fumbling around the divorce in time.
Could he ever reconcile himself to the shell of Kate left behind after her father’s death and her own near-deaths at the hands of Robert Denton—the first killer to obsess over her—and Elijah Cox—the latest evil man to decide she was the key to their evil plan?
Could she ever be anything more than that shell?
She focused on brushing her teeth, and when she was finished with that, she focused on lathering shampoo into her hair and soap onto her body. As long as she focused on that, she didn’t have to focus on the answers to those questions.
She finished showering and toweled off briskly.
She avoided looking at herself in the mirror.
It was too easy lately to notice all the imperfections, to wonder if they were why Marcus had never asked for more physically.
It was stupid and childish, but like many stupid, childish things, it was unavoidable.
By the time she dressed and returned to the room, Marcus was snoring softly, out like a light. Kate lay in bed—her own bed—and hoped the dream wouldn’t come.
But it did. It always did.