Page 110 of Blood Moon

“We just came out of the first commercial break. Tom Barker is about to be introduced.”

“This ought to be good.” John sat down in the chair beside her.

She turned up the audio, and they sat through two minutes of Barker’s self-congratulations. “Nauseating,” she said. “Had enough?”

“More than enough.”

She paused the video. “There’s so much wrong with this, John, and I don’t know what else to do to try to keep it off the air.”

“I’m at a loss, too. About your problem. About mine. We’ve got all this new information, but so far it’s done us no good. We’re no closer to identifying the unsub than when we started.”

“Maybe everyone is right and I’m wrong,” she said. “There is no bogeyman with a Luna fetish waiting for tomorrow night’s moon. Not that I’m wishing there is, but—”

“Ifthere is, we will have missed him.”

“I can’t bear to think that.”

“Me neither.”

“We’ve only alerted three law enforcement departments to the blood moon angle. How many are there?”

“Departments? Agencies?” John chuffed. “Hundreds if you stay within Mississippi and Louisiana. Add Texas, and you’ve got thousands. And we don’t even know that he’s regional.”

“Could we issue a bulletin of some kind that would go to those agencies?”

“Official channels are closed to me now. And even if they weren’t, who would we tell them to be on the lookout for?” He raised his eyebrows. “He could be a pip-squeak or a pro wrestler. A family man or a hermit who lives in a cave and dances in body paint around his campfire.

“We’ve got nothing, Beth. Not even solid reputations to give us some believability.” He pointed to her. “You’re being given credit for producing a true crime episode that you now claim isn’t true.” He pointed to his own chest. “I’m a cop, known for the chip on his shoulder, who’s been fired and has an arrest warrant out for him. A bulletin from us would be immediately tossed.”

She rubbed her temples with the fingers of both hands, then pushed them up into her hair. “Then what do we do?”

“Well, whatever else I do, I’m going after Barker. If I’m going to jail anyway, I first want to do him as much damage as possible.”

“Earlier today, you dismissed taking all this to the DA. Maybe you should reconsider.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll play the prosecutor. You be me.”

She nodded and sat up straighter. “Lieutenant Barker and Frank Gray caused Billy Oliver’s death.”

“How do you know this?”

“I just do.”

“Did they tie up the bedsheet?”

“No, but—”

“He hanged himself, Detective Bowie. You were there. You saw. You cut him down.”

Beth wet her lips. “Isabel Sanchez has agreed to testify to what took place before that. Her account is compelling.”

“But speculative. In a court of law, under cross-examination, her testimony wouldn’t hold water.”

“What about the note?” Beth said. “It could have forensic evidence that would prove who wrote it.”

“What if it proved that Billy wrote it?”

“He would have been under duress.”

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