Page 37 of Built of Illusions

She pointed them out to the men. “These were on the floor in the hallway of my old apartment on different days. I figured someone had just dropped them.” But someone had placed them deliberately. The ornament had been right next to her door.

Roman was scribbling notes. “Okay, now can you think of any other tourist type items you’ve encountered in the last few weeks?”

Josie closed her eyes and tried to separate her emotions from the memory search. “I can’t think of anything else right now. Maybe something will come to me later.” When she wasn’t on emotional overload.

“Don’t worry about it, Josie. You’ve got an amazing memory and you’ve been a big help so far.”

Because she was a target. A target who knew she was in someone’s sights. Which gave her a glimmer of an advantage. Probably more than any of the women on the board had.

Her eyes skimmed the board again, taking in the group. “There are thousands and thousands of women who fit this profile. Have you found any connection between these women?”

Nico leaned on the table and crossed his arm. “They’re all employed in an area of the arts. Dancing, visual arts, music.”

“So we’re guessing he’s pissed at a mom who left him for a career in the arts?”

Roman snorted out a laugh. “I paid good money for my psychology degree. Don’t go showing me up in your first hour on the job.”

That made her smile. She turned from the board and walked around the table before taking a seat that didn’t face the board. She needed to let the information sit in her brain for a minute. “What about his father? Aren’t most serial killers victims of abuse?”

Nico moved to sit beside her. “Many are.”

“So his mom probably left him for her career. Either leaving him with an asshole of a father or with no one at all. Were any of these women foster kids?”

Nico shook his head. “No. But good connection. Keep going.”

“Anyone married? Engaged? Or are all they all single?”

Nico and Roman shared a glance. “Single.”

“Any connections to cops or FBI agents?”

They both raised their eyebrows at her, so she explained. “I don’t have a lot of connections outside of my art world.” She wasn’t going to tell them she didn’t have a lot of connections within it, either.

She gestured vaguely. “I was thinking that this man might be pissed off at the police as well as his mother. Either for leaving him with his father or for making his father angry by doing nothing to find the mother and bring her back. Maybe the father took it out on the kid.”

She blew out a breath. “I’m connected to this department, to the law enforcement community. I work with you to give faces to the criminals. Is there anything similar with any of the others?”

Nico kissed her cheek then moved to a computer. “I don’t know. I didn’t think of that kind of connection.”

Roman grinned at her before typing on his computer. “Me neither. Are all artists this perceptive, or are you special?”

That made her smile, but it was shaky.

The men muttered back and forth as they typed and worked. Josie tuned them out and pulled out her sketchpad. Her fingers were itching.

She started with Zoey. Drawing her face in life and in laughter. The board stated the woman had been a sculptor but Josie didn’t recognize her name.

She pulled out her phone and found Zoey’s website. Strong pieces in metal. Large outdoor pieces that shouted with energy and life. Smaller pieces for homes that oozed joy.

Wiping away the tears, she turned back to her pad and drew Zoey creating one of her pieces. A badass woman in welding gear, creating joy.

Something about the woman reminded Josie of a warrior. Wonder Woman or Xena.

Josie’s gaze turned back to the board as something niggled at her brain. Xena.

Zena.

Z-E-N-A-A-M-A-R

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