Gideon closed his eyes briefly and kicked himself some more. “Of course they were,” he said gently.
She scooped the chopped vegetables from the cutting board into a warmed skillet. They sizzled and the aroma of cooking food filled the kitchen. She said, “Do you think it’s the same killer?”
Why prevaricate? He said, “Yeah, I do. Since the Jacksonville killer was never caught, a lot of the details from those murders were never released but whoever killed Haley used the same methodology.”
She sent him a wide-eyed glance. “Methodology?”
“The killer was very methodical. He masked his scent with a chemical agent that hunters use, and while we don’t have a crime scene report yet on Haley, I’m betting he didn’t leave any fingerprints behind. The Jacksonville killer didn’t either. Each victim died by a stab wound to the heart. It’s very neatly done, then their abdominal cavities are excavated. The organs are always placed outside their bodies in the same pattern.”
Her hand, still holding the spatula, dropped to her side as her face worked. He moved across the room fast to hold her from behind in a firm grip. She whispered, “H-Haley was dead before he did that to her?”
“Yes,” he said in a strong voice. “The killer has some other agenda besides torture. I promise you, Alice. She didn’t suffer.”
She breathed hard, fighting for control. She said, “Thank you for that. I’m all right.”
He released her and stepped back. Not too far, just a couple of steps. Then he stood out of her line of sight, watching her jerky movements as she cooked with his hands fisted at his sides. There was only so much he could do to help, and it was making him a little bat-shit. “Ready for a break?” he asked, hoping she would say yes.
“No.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Please continue.”
“You said your principal, Alex Schaffer, was the one who broke the news of Peter Baines’ death to you and Haley, and he’s also the one who spread the news that David Brunswick had gone missing, correct?” He waited for her nod then continued. “Why Schaffer?”
“After Jacksonville, Alex started a support group for chameleon Wyr. First it was to help process the grief, but over time the group has turned more social. Now we have a potluck on the first Sunday of every month, and some of us get together for brunch on the third Sunday. Sometimes some of us arrange to go hiking, or to go out to dinner or see a movie.”
“True Colors,” Gideon said.
She looked at him in surprise. “You know the group? We keep its existence pretty quiet. There’s a website where everybody can log in and post news, email each other, or invite people on an outing, but it’s privately maintained. It doesn’t even come up on Google searches.”
He told her, “The FBI keeps a file on chameleon Wyr social activities, which includes information on the website. I had a look at it earlier today, but I haven’t had time to read through everything. I didn’t know Schaffer was the founder of the group.”
“Yes, and as far as I know, every chameleon Wyr in New York is a member.”
“Twenty-three,” Gideon murmured.
“I beg your pardon?” Alice handed him plates, cutlery and napkins.
He set the table. “The website has a list of all your names. The group has twenty-three members.” Well, technically the total was now twenty, but he wasn’t going to be pedantic about that when it might cause her more pain. “What brought you to Haley’s earlier?”
“We had planned to spend the evening together. I was going to try to coax her into coming to stay at my place for a while.” He came back toward her, and she handed him the salt and pepper shakers, a bottle of ketchup, and a freshly opened bottle of Corona.
“Did anybody else know you two had planned to get together this evening?” He carried the beer and the condiments to the table.
“No.” She frowned up at him. “Does that matter?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Let’s keep that private for now, okay?” Could withholding the information be useful? He tucked the thought away for further consideration.
“All right.” She slid the last of the bacon out of the skillet, clearly deep in thought. “How did you know to show up at Haley’s?”
He smiled at her. “Why don’t I tell you that later? You may not need a break, but I do. Just until we’ve had a chance to eat.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
He’d lied, but she didn’t appear to notice. He could have talked details about the case and autopsy results throughout the meal and never turned a hair, but he wanted her to relax enough to eat a bite or two. A fresh shock wasn’t going to help her do that.