CHAPTER SIX
Miles stepped into the controlled chaos of San Francisco International Airport with his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder and his laptop case clutched in his free hand.
The terminal stretched out before him in a maze of gates, shops, and restaurants, filled with travelers hurrying to catch connections or waiting in clusters around charging stations.
Overhead announcements echoed through the space in multiple languages while the constant hum of conversation created a white noise backdrop.
For Miles, someone who enjoyed traveling, it was a welcome and almost refreshing sight.
He paused near the gate, scanning the faces of people waiting in the terminal seating area.
He'd never met Agent Stone in person, had only seen her official FBI photograph and heard Hayes describe her as direct and experienced.
But he had no idea what she actually looked like or how to spot her among the crowd of travelers.
"Dr. Sterling?"
Miles turned toward the mention of his name and found himself facing a woman in her mid-thirties.
Her auburn hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and her sharp green eyes seemed to take in everything around them.
She wore dark jeans and a black blazer that hung loose enough to conceal whatever weapon she carried, and she moved with the confident posture of someone accustomed to commanding situations.
"Agent Stone," Miles said, extending his hand. "Thank you for picking me up."
Victoria Stone's handshake was firm and brief, her grip conveying both strength and efficiency. "Call me Vic. And you're Miles, right? Hayes suggested you might prefer that to Doctor."
"That's right." Miles studied her face, noting the way her eyes continued to scan their surroundings even as she spoke to him. There was an alertness about her that spoke of years spent in situations where attention to detail could mean the difference between life and death.
"How was your flight?" Vic asked as they began walking toward the airport's main concourse.
"Fine. Quick. I spent most of it reviewing the case files Hayes sent me." Miles shifted his laptop case to his other hand as they navigated around a group of travelers studying a terminal map. "The crime scene photos are... remarkable."
"That's one word for it," Vic said dryly. "I was thinking more along the lines of bizarre or deeply disturbing, but remarkable works, too."
They moved through the terminal's central corridor, past shops selling everything from tech gadgets to San Francisco souvenirs.
The afternoon crowd was particularly heavy, with delayed flights creating bottlenecks around gate areas and food courts.
Miles found himself impressed by the way Vic moved through the chaos, automatically choosing the most efficient path while maintaining awareness of the people around them—all while carrying on a conversation.
"So Hayes tells me you have a theory about these murders," Vic said. "Something about the periodic table?"
"I do," Miles replied. "But it's probably better discussed somewhere other than an airport terminal."
Vic nodded approvingly. "So then let’s grab some lunch and I'll catch you up on what we know so far. You can walk me through your theory while we eat."
They agreed on a generic-looking Tex Mex place that didn't look too crowded. They ordered quickly—carnitas tacos for Vic, a chicken burrito for Miles—and found a table near the back where they could speak privately.
"Alright," Vic said, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Let me bring you up to speed on what we have so far."
She walked him through the three victims in chronological order, keeping her summary brief but comprehensive.
Miles was good at retaining information so he didn’t feel the need to take notes—not yet.
He listened intently as Vic told him about Rebecca Thornfield, the art dealer found in her gallery's storage room.
She had been the first victim discovered though possibly not the first killed.
Then there was Nelson DeWalt, a small-time investor of several online start-ups.
And lastly, Patricia Vance, the real estate mogul, who was the most recent victim, discovered at a construction site in the Financial District.
"All three were wealthy, all had questionable business practices, and all were found coated in gold leaf applied with professional precision," Vic concluded.
"The killer has access to specialized equipment and knows how to use it.
We're dealing with someone who has serious technical skills and patience. "
Miles absorbed this information while mentally comparing it to the cases he'd been tracking across the country. The methodology was consistent with the pattern he'd identified, but the sophistication level was higher than some of the earlier murders he'd studied.
"Now tell me about this periodic table theory," Vic said as their food arrived. "Hayes was pretty vague about the details."
Miles organized his thoughts while taking a bite of his burrito, aware that this was his opportunity to make his case to someone who'd actually worked these types of cases in the field. Vic's experience with violent crime investigations could provide insights his laboratory analysis had missed.
"I've been tracking what I believe are connected murders across the country for the past three years," he began.
"Each death involves a method that corresponds to an element on the periodic table, starting with hydrogen and moving through the sequence. I can completely understand how, when looking at it from a bird’s eye view, they seem not connected or related at all.
But there are deeper, more intricate details that I do believe connects them. "
He outlined the cases he'd identified, explaining how each murder used a different element as both weapon and signature.
He could recite it easily now, especially since he had walked through every detail of it twice in the past eighteen hours—first to Elena, and then to Assistant Director Hayes.
He walked her through the precision of the chemical applications, the sophisticated delivery methods, the staging of crime scenes to misdirect local investigations.
He explained how it all pointed to a coordinated effort by people with advanced scientific training.
"So you think someone is systematically working through the elements," Vic said, pausing between bites of her tacos. "Using them as some kind of murder template."
"More than someone," Miles said. "The geographical spread and timing suggest multiple perpetrators working together. Possibly a group or cult with a shared ideology about chemistry and its relationship to society."
Vic considered this while chewing thoughtfully.
Miles was pretty sure she was at least interested and that she would not shoot his theory down as easily as Hayes had suggested.
"It's not a bad theory," she admitted. "Actually, it's pretty intriguing.
But there's a practical problem; these cases you're talking about span multiple years and multiple states.
They can't all have been done by the same person, and I don't see how this helps me catch whoever's killing people here in San Francisco. "
Miles had anticipated this objection and had spent the flight developing his response. "That's exactly why I think you're dealing with a coordinated group. But here's where it gets interesting for your case specifically."
He leaned forward, his excitement building as he articulated the connection he'd been developing. "We know that gold is the method of operation, but what if gold was also the motive?"
"Meaning what?"
Miles had pondered this part during the plane ride and knew he was taking a calculated risk.
He was supposed to be simply helping, consulting, assisting, not trying to guide the direction of the entire case.
"Look at your victims. All wealthy, all involved in what could be considered predatory financial practices.
What if the killer isn't just using gold as a murder weapon, but as a statement about their relationship with wealth and greed? "
Vic set down her taco and looked at him with renewed interest. "You're talking about motive beyond just having money."
"Exactly. What had these people done that might have inspired the killer's wrath?
Thornfield manipulated art markets, Vance displaced low-income families with her development projects, and it seems DeWalt was making what, somehow, people might assume is easy, lazy money.
They weren't just wealthy—they were people who used their wealth in ways that could be seen as corrupt or exploitative. "
"So the gold coating isn't just a murder method," Vic said slowly. "It's symbolic. The killer is literally covering them in the thing they valued most."
"Right. And if that's true for the gold murders, it might be true for the other elements I've been tracking. In fact, I’m becoming more and more sure of it. Each element has been chosen not just for its chemical properties, but for its symbolic relationship to the victim's life or crimes."
Vic finished her lunch while considering this angle. Miles could see her mind working through the implications, applying her field experience to his analytical framework. This was exactly the kind of collaborative thinking he'd hoped for when Hayes had assigned him to work with her.
"That's actually a really good approach," she said finally. "Instead of just looking at who had enough money to be a target, we start looking at what they did with that money. How they earned it, how they used it, who they might have hurt in the process."
"It gives us a way to predict potential victims," Miles added. "If the killer is selecting targets based on specific types of financial corruption, we can identify people who fit the pattern."
"And it might help us understand the killer's psychology," Vic said. "Someone who sees themselves as delivering justice rather than just committing murder. That changes the profile significantly."
“Ah, but if he is part of a larger group, he may not even be acting of his own accord…but at the instruction of someone else.”
They both let this final comment settle in on them as they finished their meal. Miles felt the satisfaction of having his theory taken seriously by an experienced field agent, while Vic saw new investigative avenues opening up that might actually lead to actionable intelligence.
"So what's our next step?" Miles asked as Vic as they tossed their lunch trash away.
"We start looking deeper into the victims' business practices," Vic said. "Not just their wealth, but how they accumulated it and who they might have harmed along the way. If your theory is right, there should be specific patterns of behavior that made them targets."
"And we look for other potential victims who fit the same profile," Miles added. "People whose financial practices match the pattern established by the first three murders."
Vic nodded, her expression focused and determined. "Exactly. We're going to figure out what these people had in common beyond just being rich, and then we're going to find whoever's killing them before they can strike again."
Miles wanted to once again refer to whoever might be pulling the strings, but he didn’t want to push it. She had gone along with the theory—for now, anyway—so he didn’t want to press matters with talk of a cult.
As they headed for the airport exit, Miles felt the excitement of a case that was finally coming together.
His periodic table theory had found practical application in an active investigation, and Agent Stone's field experience was providing the framework he needed to turn analytical insights into investigative strategy.
The breakthrough he'd been seeking for three years was within reach. And for the first time since he'd started tracking these cases, he felt like he had a real chance of stopping the killers before they could further extend their deadly mission.