Page 51 of So Silent

“I think I’ve excused you enough. Thank you for catching my suspect. You can drive the truck back.”

Wanda glared at her a moment, then called, “Rennick!”

A young uniform trotted over to her. “Yes, Detective?”

“Give Special Agent Bold your keys. You’re driving the BearCat back to the precinct.”

The young man turned to the truck. His eyes lit up like Christmas. “Really?”

He quickly gave Faith his keys and snatched the keys to the truck from her hand. “Hell yeah!” he cried, running to the massive diesel truck. “Thank you!”

“Sure,” Faith said drily. To each their own, I guess.

“That work for you?” Wanda said cattily.

“Sure. We’ll see you back at the precinct. Don’t worry. I’ll give you full credit for the collar.”

Wanda reddened a little but chose not to argue further. The three agents walked toward Rennick’s cruiser, a perfectly normal sedan with street tires and no four-low, four-high, four-semi-medium-on-Sundays-only bullshit.

She knew she should be excited, but something didn’t sit right. The absence of that knife might seem like a small thing, but it raised serious questions with her.

Adrian Clarke was an asshole, no doubt. But was he their killer?

Faith looked out the window at the crescent moon and wondered who else could be lurking in the darkness.

Chapter Twenty Four

Michael waited until they were on the highway before asking. “You gonna tell me why you look mad instead of happy? And don’t tell me it’s because you had to drive that truck.”

She sighed. “He didn’t have a knife.”

“Clarke?”

“Yeah. Our killer murdered all four of his victims with a double-edged knife, probably a dagger of some sort. Clarke didn’t even carry a knife.”

“Yeah, I wondered about that too,” Michael said. “On the flip side, an animal control officer fits our profile. He carries a dog whistle for work, has an excuse to prowl neighborhoods at night, and has an excuse to blow that whistle and wake up everyone’s dogs. He already killed someone tonight, and it doesn’t take much brainpower to avoid carrying a murder weapon with you at all times, especially if it’s something unique like a double-edged dagger. He could have killed Jessica, stashed the knife at home, and then gone to work. Hell, it might be in his truck somewhere. We’ll see what the officers say after they search it.”

Faith’s unease lessened a little. “Yeah. Maybe that’s where it is.”

“Besides, we expected false alarms,” Michael said. “If he’s not our guy, then he’s not our guy. The point of this arrest is that our system works. I know you’re not a big Wanda Simonich supporter right now, and I’m not exactly her number one fan either, but she was right about that. This is only the first collar. It doesn’t have to be the last one.”

Faith relaxed a little more. “Yeah. Good point.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Okay. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Don’t mention it. That’s literally my job. Seriously, that’s why the Boss partnered me with you.”

“Yes, I know. He told me to my face when I was assigned to the Philadelphia Field Office.”

“Did he?”

“Yep. He said, and I quote, ‘I’m assigning you to Prince because he won’t put up with your temper. You start freaking out, and he’ll either calm you down or shut you up. Either one’s fine with me.’”

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. You always were his favorite.”

She looked at him ruefully. “Sometimes I wish he actually hated me.”

“Oh no. That’s worse. Then you get to deal with a fifteen-plus-year career and the knowledge that you’ll never climb above Special Agent.”

She scoffed. "That's on you, dude. You've practically broadcasted to the world that you don't want to advance. Be honest. If they offered you ASAC, would you take it?"

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