Page 5 of So Smitten

Faith managed a half smile that disappeared the moment the door closed.

So West hadn’t been in Philadelphia after all. He had gone as far away from the Atlantic Coast as he could. Now James Decker was dead. He probably hadn't thought about her in years, and now he was dead just because West knew that he had once known her.

When Franklin West, ostensibly a psychologist, in reality the Copycat Killer whose murders far outstripped those of the original Donkey Killer, killed her friend and mentor Gordon Clark, he left her a note that explicitly threatened her boyfriend, David Friedman, her partner, Special Agent Michael Prince and his fiancée, Ellie West, who turned out to be the ex-wife of none other than Franklin West.

Ellie Prince now. They had married. She hadn't been invited to the wedding, primarily because, as part of her obsession with finding the Copycat Killer, she had interpreted Turk’s initial dislike of Ellie as evidence that Ellie was the Copycat Killer herself.

She was certain that West would be here in Philadelphia and that his next move would be against David. Instead, he—likely anticipating her thought process—had traveled across the country and murdered a man she hadn’t thought of in years.

Except for ten minutes in West’s office.

He knew that Decker wasn’t important to her. She told him he was just the other party in a funny memory and nothing more. There were dozens of more important names she had given him.

And maybe he would go after one of them next.

She left the office and headed home, feeling everyone’s eyes boring into her back. Since being reinstated a few weeks ago, Faith had felt like an outsider. People she’d worked with for years avoided her in the hallway. Everyone treated her like a bomb waiting to go off, and the fact that she had earned that reputation didn’t make it feel any better.

And now this. Death followed Faith like a cloud, and if not for Turk’s enthusiastic greeting when she walked inside, she might have spent a sleepless night staring moodily at her blank tv screen.

But how could you not smile when an eighty-pound puppy jumped into your arms and started exuberantly licking your face?

"Hey, boy," she said. "Sorry, I'm home late. I had to talk to Desrouleaux. You remember him? Short, dyed hair, smells like maple donuts?”

Turk barked, and Faith laughed. “Well, he… he just needed to talk to me.” She wasn’t ready to talk about it, not even to Turk.

“Let’s eat some dinner, huh?” she said. “Then we’ll watch that movie you like about the dog who rescues all those kids.”

Turk barked exuberantly, and Faith headed to the kitchen. An hour later, she sat on the couch, Turk in front of her, his tail switching back and forth with excitement as a Saint Bernard carefully navigated his way down a snow-covered slope to help a crying toddler. When the dog slipped, Turk, who had seen this movie at least fifty times before and knew that the dog would regain his balance and successfully rescue the last child, barked and whined anxiously. When the dog deposited the child safely into the arms of her waiting mother, Turk leaped and barked and howled for joy.

Faith smiled as she watched him. He turned to her, panting and smiling, and she saw the chipped tooth on his left side.

Her smile faded slightly. West had tried to take Turk from her, too, but Turk had escaped and left West a little present on his way out the door.

“He’s not getting you,” she said. “Nope. Not you, boy.”

Turk wasn’t sure why Faith was suddenly serious, but he barked in solidarity and turned back to the movie, where the Saint Bernard was proudly accepting a medal for bravery from the Governor of Colorado.

After the movie, Faith put Turk to bed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately, a skill he had no doubt learned from the Marine Corps. Faith herself had shared that skill up until two years ago. Jethro Trammell had seen to it that she rarely slept without nightmares, and sleep was no longer so easily attained.

Nor would tonight be any different. West may have been a stand-in for Trammell in Faith’s psyche at first, but he was the big Evil now. Trammell was dead and gone, West was still active. He had killed one of Faith’s friends and one of Faith’s former comrades, and she had no doubt he wouldn’t stop there.

So, she thought back to her many sessions with West, to the names, both important and unimportant, that she had told him, and began to write. She had no idea if there was any rhyme or reason to Faith’s choices. Decker was a fond memory of hers but not a particularly important one.

He’s spreading us thin, she thought. He’s trying to overwork us and find cracks in the armor.

She knew this was true, but she had no choice. He would keep killing until he got what he wanted or until he was caught. At the moment, they weren’t anywhere near catching him, so he would keep killing.

Just like a chess master, he had forced Faith and the Bureau into a corner. They had no choice but to play his game right now and hope he made a mistake.

Before they made a mistake.

CHAPTER TWO

Gina Sawyer hummed a tune to herself as she sliced the potatoes. The Hollingsworths were coming over for dinner, and she was making ribeye steaks with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted green beans.

Gina was not—as so many at the school district insisted—attracted to Jeff Hollingsworth. He really was just a friend, and anyway, his wife, Laura, was the sweetest creature alive. Besides, she was in love with her husband. It really was amazing the kind of stories people made up.

The doorbell rang, and she yelped in surprise. Was that them already? Goodness, she had said five o’clock! It was barely three! Maybe Henry had ordered a package?

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