Page 3 of So Dark

The first murder had been dismissed as a robbery gone wrong. The killers, it was believed, used Faith’s name to throw the police off the scent.

There could be no mistaking it now. This message had been left for Faith. Someone else was out there picking up where West had left off. Someone wanted to torment Faith, and they had chosen to do so by taunting her with murders.

Faith had been kept away from the first case, but this one was too close to home. She needed to investigate this one herself.

“All right. As of right now, this is officially an FBI case. Are we clear on that, detective?”

The detective sighed. “Sure. I figured you’d take over once you showed up. Can’t say I’m too upset about it. I’ve been a homicide detective for eleven years, and this is by far the worst I’ve ever seen.”

Not the worst I’ve seen,Faith thought grimly.I’m sorry, Eleanor.“Has anyone been inside the apartment?” she asked aloud.

“No. We got the call an hour and a half ago. CSI just finished examining the scene, and the coroner should be on his way up to take the body.”

As if on cue, the elevator opened and the coroner and a team of four orderlies entered the hallway. “Back up, everyone!” the coroner—a stern woman of around fifty—called. “Give us room!” She saw Faith and said, “Oh. I thought you were out of town.”

“Good evening, Dr. Brenner,” Faith said. “I just got back.”

“I see. Hell of a homecoming present.”

Faith didn’t reply to that.

“You want to take a look before I wheel her out of here?” Dr. Brenner asked.

Turk was sniffing around the body, but when Faith asked, “Got anything, boy?” he snorted and dipped his head, a negative.

“Go ahead and take her,” Faith said. “I want every piece of information you get the moment you get it. Someone’s targeting me, and unlike West, they’re not discriminating in who they target.”

“Boy, you sure have a way with men, don’t you?” Brenner said drily.

Faith didn’t appreciate the joke. She turned toward the detective. “You said CSI’s been over the scene already?”

“Yep. No prints, no bodily fluids that didn’t come from Ms. Fields. CSI thinks the killer wore latex gloves, but they have to wait on the coroner’s report to know for sure.”

Faith nodded. “All right. Dr. Brenner, she’s yours. Detective, you and I are inside the apartment looking for any sign of disturbance. Sergeant, get this floor roped off. No one enters unless they live here and can prove it. If that means someone gets locked out, I’ll take the heat.Ifsomeone lives here, and you haven’t talked to them yet, you talk to them. I want a timeline of tonight ASAP.”

They hurried to comply, and Faith, not wanting to watch as they took her neighbor away, turned toward the detective. “What’s your name?”

“Fatts.” She lifted an eyebrow, and he grinned. “Yep. Reggie Fatts. You can call me Reggie or Fatso.”

“Reggie’s fine,” Faith replied. “Who have you spoken to so far?”

"The neighbor that called it in, his wife, and the kid down the hall." He chuckled. "Never seen someone run weed through a garbage disposal before. You should have seen the kid's face when he opened the door, and we told him it was decriminalized up to thirty grams."

“Let’s stay focused on the murder, Reggie.”

Reggie’s grin faded. “Right. Sorry. Yeah, no one heard anything. I mean, they all heard people coming and going, but they hear that all the time. No one thought anything of it. It wasn’t until Mr. Young stepped out for smokes that anyone saw anything.”

Faith sighed. “Okay. I want you to go talk to them again. I want you to ask them if they noticed anything different about Eleanor’s behavior over the past week. Any changes in mood or behavior, was she expecting someone, did she have an unpleasant interaction with anyone… actually, an interaction of any kind with anyone new.”

“I’ll do that,” Reggie replied. “While we’re on the subject, I actually want to talk to you. You can do your thing first, but since this killer knows where you live and all, the going hypothesis is that the killer knowsyou.”

“They don’t,” Faith said. “I have very few friends, and none of them are capable of this.”

“You have acquaintances, though, right? The barista who serves your coffee, the groomer who keeps this guy’s fur so nice and shiny, the mechanic who replaces your engine every ten thousand miles ‘cause it’s a Ford… Someone has to be close enough to you to know where you live.”

Faith pressed her lips together. She hadn’t considered that, but now that Reggie brought it up, it made sense. “Okay. We’ll talk after I’m done—”

“Faith,” a familiar voice called.

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