Page 14 of The Butterfly Killer

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t think anything changed. Except this isn’t the Butterfly Killer.”

“You think it’s a copycat,” Agent Mercer finally said.

Marcus turned his almost sparkling eyes to him. “Yes. Nothing about this recent murder matches with the Butterfly Killer. The age of his victims, the way he cleans up, and the way he connected with Miss Calloway. This was his first murder and he was making it special.”

The silence he got from the both of them was unsettling. Had he made a mistake coming to them?

Burns slowly nodded. “That’s a good theory, but we can’t go off theories. From the evidence we have right now, it looks like the Butterfly Killer.”

Marcus’s shoulders dropped.

He should have known his ideas would be dismissed. While he knew something was different about this recent murder, Burns was right that he didn’t have concrete evidence of a copycat.

And if it was a copycat, the agents would be booted from the case.

He cringed. It might look like he was trying to get them out of here though that wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted them to stay and help, but if this was a copycat…they would be chasing the wrong guy and not be looking for the true Butterfly Killer.

Burns gave a reassuring smile. “But we’ll look into it. Right Mercer?”

Marcus looked up at Mercer, hoping to see that the man wasn’t looking at him like everyone else in the precinct did—with judgment.

He couldn’t quite read what the man was thinking, but he didn’t look like he thought Marcus was a dumbass for bringing the information to them.

“Yes, definitely.”

Marcus smiled with relief.

“I want you to send the information to my email.” Mercer pulled out a business card from his suit jacket and handed it over. Marcus held it with such gentleness someone might think it was worth a million dollars.

It was worth more to Marcus than that. This meant everything to him. Just being acknowledged for once felt like he was shooting over the moon.

“I will. Right now.” He was so excited to share what he found and to be part of the case, he could jump with joy right now. But he held down his excitement and started toward Patrice’s office to borrow his computer.

The agents turned and left to where they were going. It was only when he was outside Patrice’s office that he thought he should have asked where they were going. But that might have been stepping on toes again. He understood completely that he should stay off other people’s cases—it could really mess things up—but it was really hard sometimes to not want to know what was happening.

It was especially hard when things in the Butterfly case hadn’t been moving at all in the past few years. Ten years was a long time to wait for justice and it really felt like it would never happen.

He knocked on Patrice’s door. He was going through the conversation he just had through his head while he waited.

Patrice answered it. He had his glasses on. They made him look younger than he was.

“Can I use your computer?” He usually wasn’t one to ask, but he did want to get these things sent off to Mercer. It felt like he’d die if he didn’t as soon as possible.

“Sure,” Patrice said, opening the door wider.

He waved Marcus over at his desk while he grabbed a notebook and book from his desk. “I’m taking a few notes while I wait for test results anyway.”

He moved to the comfy reading chair he had in the corner of the office. Marcus sat in the office chair and booted the computer up. He pulled out the flash drive he carried all his files on.

“Well, this might be the last time I have to borrow your office,” he said as he started logging into his email. “Chief let me know you talked to him.”

Patrice coughed. “He did?”

Marcus typed a quick message in the body of the email, attached his findings, and pressed send. He looked at Patrice over the monitor. “Yeah, he did. What were you thinking trying to coax him like that? He knows you’re friends with me.”

Patrice tapped his pencil against the book in his lap. “It worked didn’t it? You’re going to get a desk. Which, by the way, should have happened years ago. How did anyone expect you to get anything done with that thing and no computer?”

Marcus fully agreed, but he didn’t want to admit that he was the ugly duckling of the department. He stared at the screen, confirming the email had been sent and received, but he didn’t want to get up.

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