The time on the phone said it was almost midnight. Asher cleared his throat to rid the sleep from his voice and prepared himself for bad news.
He and Declan had been chasing the killer since the first body showed up in D.C. with her ear chopped off like Van Gogh. A copy of Starry Night lay near the body. Along with a photo of the woman’s fearful face before the killer had mutilated her body.
So far, the details were slim. They were still digging into Edward Buckley’s past, but what they’d discovered was terrifying. The man had been a killer for a long time.
“The killer sent a photo. He’s taken another victim, and this time we have a name. Sylvia Abbott. She and Lizzy were roommates at Georgetown.”
A name? The words settled over Asher like a reoccurring nightmare. “So, he’s started up again. He didn’t waste time, did he?” The Van Gogh Killers had gone silent five years ago. There’d been no new victims. Asher and his former partner, Declan, had thought something happened to the killer. Perhaps he’d died or had been incarcerated for another crime. Until a few weeks earlier when the case had blown wide open and they realized they were looking at two killers.
“No, he didn’t. Unless this is some kook acting as a copycat and seeking recognition for himself.”
A strange thing to say. “Why would you think that?”
A car rumbled in the background. Olivia was on the road. Probably heading to the Hoover building.
“Because there are some differences from the previous MO.”
Asher grabbed his clothes and changed quickly. “Such as?”
“Well for one, there was no connection between the previous victims. And in the past, the killer left a Polaroid along with the picture of Starry Night near the victim’s body. In this case the killer sent it to someone else.”
Olivia was deliberately careful not to give too much information away, which meant she was worried about someone, namely Holden, listening in on their conversation. After what happened earlier, nothing would surprise Asher. “Where is the latest victim living now?”
“Here in D.C. The victim has an apartment. She’s different from the previous ones who appeared to fit the same physical description. White. Female. Twenty to thirty years of age, dark hair.”
Asher finished dressing and grabbed his weapon lockbox from where he kept it above his dresser. He punched in the correct code, opened the box, and removed his Glock and extra magazines.
“Obviously, the fact that she’s female and of a certain age fits the previous killings, but our latest victim has red hair like mine. And she knew Lizzy. In fact, they were friends. Other than the hair color and the relationship with what we believe was the last victim of Van Gogh, there’s something else, but I’ll have to explain that later on.” The killer had reached out to Lizzy Grayson. Was it because she escaped?
“I’m surprised he started up again so quickly following Buckley’s death. Maybe he’s trying to carry on his mentor’s work. Or step out from Buckley’s shadow.” Olivia blew out a breath. “I may be reading more into this madman’s mind than is there. The change in MO could mean nothing.”
Revulsion rose in Asher’s throat. “Or it could be a clue into the killer’s mindset. Can you tell anything from the background in the photo?” Asher knew the answer, but he was hoping there might be some clue as to the location where the victim was held. “Nothing really. She’s lying on a cement floor unconscious. There’s nothing visible in the photo except for the gray cement.”
“What do we know about our victim other than she and Lizzy were roommates?”
“Very little right now,” Olivia told him. “She’s thirty and works in the city for an architectural firm that’s doing some mid-city renovating.”
Asher headed through his house to the front room and grabbed his jacket and put it on before reaching for his keys. “We need to speak to the parents right away. I’m on my way in now. I’m—” He checked the time on the phone. “Ten minutes out.”
“No need. Open your front door.”
Confused, Asher jerked the door open and saw his partner standing there with the phone to her ear and two cups of coffee in one hand.
Asher ended the call and pocketed his phone. “What’s going on?” he asked when his partner handed him one of the coffees.
“I wanted to speak with you in private after what happened earlier.” Olivia came inside and closed the door. “I don’t trust Holden not to be bugging our calls.”
Asher took off his jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. He waited while Olivia did the same. Her long curly red hair was knotted on top of her head in a bun. She was almost as tall as his six-foot-four frame and physically more fit than he was. A marathon runner, she was as competitive as all get out. If his partner had come all the way here to speak in private, there was more to the story than what she’d said on the phone.
“It wasn’t the sheriff who sent the message from the killer. It was Lizzy.” Olivia sipped his coffee and waited for what she said to sink in.
Asher confirmed with a nod. “I figured. So, they’ve been in touch with the sheriff.”
Olivia nodded. “There was a message and two other photos on the original text from the killer.” His partner held his gaze. Asher knew what hadn’t been said. Both Olivia and the sheriff had a possible location of where Lizzy and Will were hiding with the rest of Strike Force.
“What did the message say?” His thoughts spun. By withholding evidence, Olivia could get into a lot of trouble. Asher wasn’t about to let his partner face Holden’s wrath alone.
“That she—meaning Lizzy—had made him do this. She took something important from him, and so he was going to take something from her.”
The words were chilling. “He blames Lizzy for Buckley’s death. Doesn’t he know it was Collins who took Buckley’s life?”
“He has to. He was probably there at the compound watching.” Olivia took another long sip of coffee.
“I’m in, partner. After what we witnessed with Holden earlier today, I’m convinced that man has his own agenda, and it has nothing to do with justice. He’s working for the people who are trying to frame our president and Strike Force.”
Olivia didn’t blink. “I agree, but are you sure? There’s no plausible way to deny your involvement once you hear the rest.”
Asher didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”
Olivia smiled. “Good. Come on. I’ll tell you everything I know on the way to the office.” She grabbed her jacket and handed Asher his.
They stepped out into the predawn filled with snow flurries and single digit temperatures. Overnight, another three inches of snow had fallen over the city.
Olivia hit the key fob to unlock her SUV, and they climbed inside. As she pulled away from his curb, Asher kicked up the heater. “Declan and Luke are on their way to speak to Sylvia’s parents now. Hopefully, they can shed some light on what Sylvia was doing in the hours before she was taken.” Olivia briefly turned his way. “I sure hope we find her before. . .”
Asher nodded because there were no words to describe how much he hoped for the same outcome. He couldn’t imagine having to wake the family and tell them their child had been taken by a serial killer. “Did you speak to the sheriff?” He wanted to know everything.