Page 46 of So Smitten

She would kill them.

It all clicked in Faith’s head then. Vincent Mariano had been trying to steal a bait dog. Harvey Harris ran a dogfighting ring. Robert Evans had stolen fighting dogs for Roman Kerry.

All three of their victims had stolen dogs and sent them to die. The killer wasn’t hunting the gang. He was hunting the people who murdered dogs. Not just any dogs. Innocent dogs. The dogs of innocent people. Rather than breed their own dogs for fighting, Harris and the others stole dogs from other people and sent them into the pit to die.

If someone had taken Turk, and Turk had died in some dogfighting ring, Faith wasn’t certain she could have held back if given the opportunity for revenge. Donald Peterson and Aloysius Farmer had both said they didn’t feel sorry for the victims. Even Michael had said that he had never been so angry at a criminal as he was at the dogfighters.

Someone had gone all the way. Someone had killed for revenge. Someone had learned that the gang was killing dogs and had sought retribution.

No, someone had lost their dog to the gang and enacted a very personal retribution.

But who? There had been over twenty dogs in the pits when Michael went undercover. Which of those dogs had an owner with the means and the willingness to kill?

Michael stirred and sat up. “Wow,” he said, “I’m getting too old for this. How long did I sleep?”

“Michael, I know who the murderer is,” Faith told him.

The rest of Michael’s fatigue vanished. He sat upright and stared at her. “Who?”

“I don’t have a name,” she said, “but I have a profile. Our killer is seeking revenge on people who stole dogs that died in the ring.”

“But not the dogs who survived,” Michael said.

“Not yet, anyway,” Faith agreed. “We need the owners of the dogs who died. We need to know where those dogs came from.”

Michael thought a moment, then sighed. “What about Harris, though? Harris never stole a dog himself. Our killer has prioritized people who actually stole the dogs, not the pit bosses or the dog fighters. So whose dog did Harris steal?”

“I don’t know the answer to that question,” Faith admitted, “but I have an idea who might.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Garvey was not happy when the agents arrived. “Hey,” she said, arms crossed, face set in a scowl. “Which one of you told Roman Kerry that he was going to be released if he cooperated with you?”

Faith blinked. “Neither of us. We never said he was going to be released, just that we would help reduce the charges.”

“Why the hell would you tell him that?” Garvey shouted.

“We needed to find the murderer,” Faith explained, “and I have a profile. If we can just—”

“You can’t just upend the most important case in this department’s recent history because it happens to be convenient for your case,” Garvey interrupted. “Roman is my collar, agents. Not yours. Just because you slapped the cuffs on his wrist doesn’t suddenly give you the right to decide how his case will be handled.”

Faith was stunned by this sudden reversal of attitude in a woman who, up until now, had been solidly on their side. "Detective Garvey, people are dying. We needed the killer."

“Gangsters are dying, agent,” Garvey retorted. “And before you get all high and mighty and insist that gangsters are people too, let me remind you that I’ve spent fifteen years with this department watching those same gangsters orchestrate the deaths of dozens of other people, not to mention trafficking others and hooking thousands more on heroin and cocaine. I’m sorry if it pisses you off to know that their deaths pale in comparison to the deaths of thousands of innocents, but it does, and I’m not about to let one of their leaders shrug off ninety percent of his sentence just because he helps you find a vigilante who’s done more to stop this gang than the FBI ever has.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were supporting this killer.”

“Yeah, you don’t know shit,” Garvey spat back. “I want this vigilante off the streets as much as anyone, but I’m not making deals with the devil to stop an imp.”

Faith was as upset as Michael was at the animosity from Garvey, but she didn’t have time to argue about it now. “We can talk about this later,” she said, “we need to speak to Kerry again.”

“Of course you do. And that’s all that matters, right?”

Faith had had enough. “Yes, detective,” she said coldly. “It is all that matters. You can be as pissy about it as you want, but yes, what matters right now is that we find a serial killer who is currently active in your city. So you can help us, you can get out of our way, or we can have our boss call your boss and get you out of our way.”

Garvey nodded contemptuously. “So that’s it, huh? Nice to finally meet you, agent.”

"You too, detective," Faith spat back. "Now, where's our person of interest.”

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