Page 36 of Counter Attack

“I expect that.” She tilted her head. “What name do you use?”

Dylan clamped his lips together and shifted his gaze toward the mounds of rock and gravel. She should’ve waited until they were alone to ask him that question.

“It’s not Phame,” he said.

“I didn’t think it was.”

Alex took a step back as the doctor began his preliminary examination. “We’ll go into the living area, out of your way.”

The doctor nodded, and they moved to the front room. It looked as though Gina Norman had cleaned this part of the house as well. Alex wanted to pick Nathan’s brain about the notes. “Do you play chess?”

“It’s been a few years, but I was pretty good at it.” He cocked his head to the side. “Oh,” he said, making two syllables of the word.

“Yeah. That was a chess move. I’m glad to know you played the game since I know practically nothing about it. Although I did buy a book that I’ve been studying.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up even though he obviously was trying not to laugh. “Do you know how long it takes to master chess? A lifetime unless you’re a Bobby Fischer.”

“So I gathered from the first chapter. And a prodigy I am not—I need a shortcut.”

“Tell me more about these notes,” he said. “Were they all pinned to the victim’s shirt?”

“No. They were usually in a pocket—coat or pants—not like this.” She held out her phone with photos of the notes on it. “Some of the notes had lettering with the numbers, but I don’t remember one like this.”

“I assume homicide consulted chess experts?”

She nodded. “And none of them found a connection. They all agreed—they’re just random opening moves.”

“Tell me about the other victims.”

It’d been over a month since she’d viewed their files. “Except for the second victim, Rebecca Daniels, I’ve only seen their photos, but they all had long, dark reddish hair like mine and similar build. It was why I was chosen to go undercover at the Lemon Tree. Gina fits the profile too.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “I wonder if Rebecca would still be alive if she hadn’t dyed her hair and had it styled like mine.”

“It doesn’t do any good to think like that.”

“I know, still—”

“Alex!” Dylan yelled from the kitchen. “There’s something else you need to see.”

What now? She whirled around and hurried to the kitchen with Nathan on her heels. “What is it?”

“This was in her coat pocket.” Her CSI held up a newspaper clipping from theChattanooga Times Free Press. He bagged it and handed it to her, and she quickly read the article about a mentally ill man who had pulled a gun on a police officer, and the officer fired, killing him. It turned out the civilian’s gun was not loaded.

In the clipping the reporter had used the wordssuicide by cop, and someone, the killer presumably, had marked out the wordsuicideand printedexecution.

Alex’s stomach churned. She remembered this particular clipping about Phillip Denton’s death because it was one of the first. She pressed her lips together to ward off the bile rising in her throat. Alex would not throw up in front of her officers.

“Here,” Nathan said, quietly slipping a bottle of cold water into her hand.

Where in the world had he gotten it? Probably in his Kevlar vest. She quickly took a sip, praying for the cold liquid to stay down and to cool her stomach. So far, so good, and Alex took another sip while Nathan read the newspaper clipping again. “What do you think the clipping has to do with the murders?”

Once again, Alex felt blood drain from her face. “Maybe everything,” she said softly.

“You want to explain? Who is the killer referring to?”

“It doesn’t name him, so it had to be written before his name was released, but it has to be Phillip Denton, the man I shot two and a half years ago.” Alex chewed her bottom lip. “It makes me think the killer is connected to Denton. The thingis, he had a fake identity, and when detectives searched for relatives and friends, of course they didn’t find any.”

“How about his neighbors?”

“I haven’t read the detective’s report, but I remember hearing the investigator didn’t have any luck with them, even though he’d lived there five years.”

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