Page 15 of Built of Illusions

A hand on a shoulder. Leaning together.

They were connected in death, so she saw them connected in life as well.

Josie wanted more details. What had been their hopes and dreams? What careers did they have? What did they do for fun?

She’d have to go back to the room and learn more. Nico would protest that she didn’t need to see them again, but she did. The compulsion was strong. She needed to know these women, to give them something after their death that could bring love or joy. Or peace.

Josie wiped the tears as she drew them again on a tour bus. A double-decker kind as they toured London. They deserved a fun adventure.

Maybe a day at the beach.

The bell kept chiming in her head, demanding her attention.

When she drew the next picture, she wanted to stop before she added the final piece. The final person. But the bell kept ringing and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

These women with their long black hair and dark eyes. Looks that spoke of Mexican or Spanish heritage. Long limbs. She wondered about the woman who’d been found earlier in the day. How would she resemble the group? How would she differ?

They could all be her sisters or cousins. Her family. In some ways, Josie had been drawing herself over and over again. When she finished the sketch, with herself in the picture, she fit right in.

An uncontrollable shiver shook her body. Time to check the locks again.

Chapter 6

Behind The Mask

Back in their conference room, Nico stared at the board. He’d hoped he would catch the bastard before he’d have to add another photo. But Rita Garson’s face was now with the others.

He hadn’t slept the night before. Instead he and Roman had worked through the night with the local agents. They hadn’t turned up anything new and the niggle in the back of Nico’s brain continued to elude him.

He knew from experience that the niggle was the key to unlocking the entire puzzle. He also knew that focusing on it was useless. His subconscious needed to let the information shuffle around in his brain before it was ready to let him in on the secret.

He’d hoped the answer would pop up after he napped on the short flight, but he’d only been visited by nightmares of Josie being slashed. That pretty face covered with wounds and blood.

Now, he and Roman were working on too little sleep and not enough connections. No evidence and too many thousands of men who matched their profile so far. “We need to figure out the first victim. He’ll have killed her close to home. Then we can narrow down our suspect list.”

Roman grunted. “You mean every man in the country isn’t a manageable list?”

Nico sighed. That was about the size of it for now. There wasn’t a single piece of evidence they could use to confirm identity, even if the man walked into the office with them.

Nico walked to stand in front of the picture of Elana Morgan. San Antonio, Texas. Jazz singer. Found in a mall parking lot. “Let’s split this up. One can dig into the suspect pool in San Antonio. The other can look further east in Texas for another victim a few weeks before this one.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and fiddled with his grandmother’s ring. “The last three victims we’ve found were about three weeks apart. Either he’s escalating, or that’s his pattern and we’re missing several victims.”

Roman swore but nodded. “I’ve got a buddy down in San Antonio. I’ll take that. You take the victims we haven’t found yet.”

Nico remembered how Tessa Flores and Bella Martinez had created a map up in Vermont in their quest to help Tessa get free of Wit Sec and live a real life with Flynn Walker and the rest of the gang up at Midnight Lake.

Flynn and Tessa were from Houston. It was south and east of San Antonio. Deciding there was no time like the present, Nico pulled out his phone and called Flynn. “Hey Rodeo King, how’s it going?”

Flynn laughed. “Not much rodeo here in the snow. It’s almost balls deep out in the forest. Never imagined this much snow for such a long time.”

“And you’re loving every second of it.” Nico could hear it in his friend’s voice.

“Damn straight. We miss you guys. You need to wrap up the FBI gig and join us.”

“One day.”

“Sooner is better. What’s up?”

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