“You sure as hell convinced me,” Jack said blandly.
“Jack,” Noah muttered between his teeth. But she sure as hell convinced me, too, he thought. And he was already wishing for another demonstration.
“You convinced every guy in the place,” Jack added as if Noah hadn’t spoken.
“Do you mind?” Eve shook her head angrily. “This is serious, Detective.”
“It’s his way,” Noah said flatly. “How easy will it be to connect you to Shadowland?”
“Pretty easy,” she said. “All the grad students know it’s part of my thesis, although after this morning I don’t think they’ll talk to Buckland.”
“That’s good,” Noah said. He nearly asked her if she’d gotten into the Shadowland network, but he knew she’d have told him if she had. “Now, what do we do with you?”
“I have a good idea,” Jack muttered, and Noah clenched his teeth so hard they hurt.
I am so going to turn you in. He should have done it years ago. Why he hadn’t was a mystery to many, he knew. He was aware of the talk, the betting pool, but like a fool, he’d hoped Jack would get his life back together. I did, after all.
“What do you mean?” Eve asked warily. Apparently she hadn’t heard Jack’s mutter.
“That if Buckland knows you’re involved, it’s just a matter of time before he prints it.”
“He’s printed just about everything else,” Jack said sourly.
“Like what?” she demanded. “What did he print?”
Noah hesitated. “That they wore red dresses and the killer used a snake on Christy.”
“A snake?” She looked confused. “Like, a real snake?”
“A real rattlesnake,” Jack said grimly. “It bit her.”
“Did he do that to Martha?” she asked, troubled.
“No,” Noah said. “And we’re not sure why.”
“Did he sexually assault these women?” she asked.
Jack frowned. “Why do you want to know?”
“Did he?” she insisted and Jack shook his head, disgruntled.
“No, he didn’t.”
“So he meets them in the virtual world, attacks them in their own homes, strangles them, then stages a hanging. And now he uses a snake, a common phobia.”
Noah glanced at her again in the rearview. She’d become very quiet, her expression contemplative. “Do you know why he used the snake, Eve?”
“Maybe. Something Jeremy said today just struck me. He was on a diatribe, telling me why I didn’t belong at Marshall, throwing out things he had no business knowing.”
“Like?” Noah prodded gently.
“My favorite color and that I don’t like beets. Or heights.” She said the last words slowly. “I’m trying to remember who I told that to. The only thing I can think of is that I filled out a questionnaire when I was first admitted to the program. We did something similar with our study, asked all the things they love, hate, things that comfort, scare them…”
Noah got it. “If he has the files, he would have seen Christy’s questionnaire.”
Eve nodded. “And if she wrote she was afraid of snakes, he would have known. Did Martha’s autopsy show anything odd?”
“Her blue lungs,” Jack murmured.
“She had blue lungs?” Eve asked. “Why?”
“The ME thinks her killer shoved her face in a toilet,” Noah said. “We need to see those study files, Eve. We need to know what these participants said they feared, and as soon as we request the subpoena, your role in this will come out.”
“I know.” She hesitated. “I can get the files for you faster.”
Jack frowned. “And more secretly?” he asked pointedly. “And more safely for you?”
Noah glared at him yet again. “Jack.”
“No, you listen. Anything she gets by hacking is poisoned fruit. The DA will throw any arrests out like yesterday’s garbage and us with it. No hacking. We do it by the book.”
There was an anger in his partner’s voice that Noah wasn’t sure he’d heard before, but before he could get closer to its cause, Eve spoke, calmly, coolly.
“My role in all this will come out, Detective Phelps. That’s a given at this point. I’ll be taken before the committee and probably thrown out of the program. If that happens, I’ll be blackballed from any other program. I think it’s safe to say my career is over, so secrecy-and safety-for myself isn’t my main concern.”
“So what is your main concern?” Jack asked, his voice also cool.
“That you not show your hand to this monster too soon. If he knows you know his MO, he’ll change it. He will kill again. It gives him… pleasure.”
A shiver went down Noah’s spine, not from her words, but from the way she said them, almost as if she were in a trance. “How do you know that it gives him pleasure?”
She looked away, the spell broken. “It just makes sense. Get your subpoena for the files if you like. I don’t know what the file names are, but I can get you a description. That should speed your warrant. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go home.”
Tuesday, February 23, 10:35 a.m.
“You didn’t have to walk me up, Detective,” Eve said as she let herself in.
Noah followed her inside her apartment, closing the door behind him. She’d become formal again. He’d liked it much better when she’d relaxed her guard and wondered how to get her to do it again. “Yes, I did. Where’s Hunter?”
“Probably buying roofing supplies.” Her smile was brittle. “I’m fine, as you can see. Your partner is waiting for you, so go.” She went to the window and stood, eyes closed.
“I’ll go in a minute.” He stood behind her, wanting to touch, but knowing she didn’t want him to. “I know you weren’t offering to get us access to protect yourself.”
“Don’t be so sure your partner wasn’t right,” she murmured. “Maybe I was.”
He gave in to the need to touch her, grasping her shoulders gently. She tensed, but her face reflected in the window remained unmoving. He kneaded, wishing he could turn her around and kiss her again. She’d know it was real this time.
But he didn’t, instead dropping his hands to his sides. “I don’t want you here alone.”
She shrugged. “It’s much more likely Buckland was here last night, and not your killer. He’d been following you and latched on to me.”
“Still, if Buckland prints your name, the man who killed three women will know you are involved. Then he may come after you.”
Her mouth firmed, her chin lifted. “I hope he does. I’ll be ready for him.”
Alarm had him frowning. “Eve, this isn’t the virtual world where you can kick ass as Nemesis or Greer. This is real. He’s killed three times. He won’t blink at four.”
“Which is why as Eve,” she said, with a calm that rattled him, “I have a very real gun and I know how to use it. It goes with the whole survivor thing.”
He knew he should go, but didn’t. “What else goes with the survivor thing?”
“Different things. I wasn’t always like I am now. I sat in the dark for two years after my assault. Never looked in mirrors and didn’t leave the house unless I had to, and when I did it was under an inch of makeup because I was afraid.”
“Of?” he asked softly.
“Of the way people looked at me. I was young, before. Pretty. Then, I was a freak. Scarred. People stared in horror, grateful it hadn’t happened to them, scared that it could. Nobody looked me in the eye. Once I made a child cry, he was so afraid of me.”
She’d dropped her eyes, shame in her voice and Noah’s heart squeezed so hard it hurt. But there was nothing he could say that she’d want to hear, so he stood, helplessly listening. After a moment she lifted her gaze, meeting his reflected in the glass.
“My world was in the computer. It kept me connected to people, and in many ways it kept me sane. When I finally got the courage to come out of the dark, helping people to break free like I did became more than a wish. It became my purpose. People need purpose, Noah. That’s a survivor thing, too.”
“I know,” he murmured. And he did know. “But I don’t want you to get caught.”