Rick picked up the threads of Bishop’s bluff. “Lots of liars in the world. And they’re all ganging up on you.”
“All I know is that I ain’t been bothering nobody.”
The man’s nerves oozed tension and worry. Rick kept his expression relaxed. “Mind if we take a look around your house?”
Mitchell shifted and raised his hand to the doorjamb. “Matter of fact, I do mind. You can’t just bust in here like a bunch of Nazis.”
Bishop dialed his phone and seconds later said, “Magistrate’s office. I need a search warrant.”
Mitchell huffed. “That supposed to scare me?”
“Nope.” Bishop sounded bored. “Once we get the search warrant, we’ll see what you have to say.”
Mitchell’s agitation grew. “You can’t just come into my house. This is my property. My land.”
“No, but we can arrest you on suspicion of stalking and rape.” Rick reached for his cuffs.
Mitchell tensed. “I ain’t raped nobody.”
“Got a witness that says otherwise.”
“Fuck. She’s a liar.”
Rick rested his hands on his hips. “I say we don’t search his place or bother with the rape charges. I say we leave him for the other man to kill.”
Bishop chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mitchell shouted.
“Whoever is pulling your strings, did the same with a couple of other guys,” Rick said. “Both those guys ended up dead in an alley. Drug overdose.”
Bishop checked his watch. “They were dead within twenty-four hours of the crime. My guess Mitchell is next on the list.”
“This is bullshit,” Mitchell said.
Bishop glanced at his nails as if he was already bored. “I say leave him to his boss. Let him do his thing.”
Neither had any way of knowing what would happen but if they were right about a master manipulator, Cyrus knew it as well.
“We got another errand to run, so you be careful, Mr. Mitchell,” Bishop said.
Rick paused before he turned. “And in case you’re wondering, Pamela’s got around-the-clock surveillance. So does that gal you raped.”
Mitchell’s face flushed red. “I ain’t like those other guys. I ain’t done nothing wrong.”
Rick tucked the cuffs back on his belt. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
They left Mitchell shouting obscenities. Neither was in a rush as they moved toward Rick’s car. As they slid into the front seat Rick’s cell phone rang. “Morgan.”
“This is Dr. Heller.”
“Doc, what do you have for me?”
“That second murder victim from the fire is Nancy Jones. I just confirmed with dental records.”
“Thanks.” As he fired up the engine he relayed the information to Bishop.
“Two successful women. In real estate. Both with dark hair. Attractive.” He leaned back in his seat. “Now we need to figure out who knew both these women.”
Georgia glanced up from her computer screen when she heard the tap of knuckles on her door frame. Rick stood with his feet braced, as if ready for a fight.
“You’re always in battle stance,” she said. “Like you’re always expecting a fight. Waiting for a challenge.”
He shrugged and didn’t bother to deny it. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
“Not me,” she teased. “I have no issues.”
He laughed but was smart enough not to detail her quirks. “Right.”
She cocked a brow. “What, you don’t agree?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to judge or comment. You said you had information on my case.”
“Right, I do.” She shuffled through file folders. “We had a look at the handwriting you found scrawled at the first fire. The word was faithless. I got the bright idea to cross-check the handwriting against the word bitch written on the doll’s head left at Jenna’s house.”
He moved into the room, his interest humming. “And?”
“The two words have three letters in common. The I, T and H.” She fished through the file and found samples of both words that she’d snapped with her digital camera. “Note both words are written in block letters. Not upper and lower case but all upper case. Almost as if the word is being shouted. And note the top of each I. There’s a slight gap between the top slash and the middle line. Not noticeable at first glance, but look at it long enough and you see stuff like that. Also look at the last letter of each word. The end of the S and the H both curve in slightly.”
Rick drew in a steadying breath. “The guy who was a party to Diane’s death also left this doll on Jenna’s porch.”
She leaned back in her chair, rolling her neck from side to side, grimacing when she seemed to touch on stiffness. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”
“Did you pull any prints from the head?”
“Wiped clean. Not one print. The guy pulling the strings is very careful. We knew that. Would be a rookie mistake if he did leave prints.”
“Criminals make mistakes. This guy has been careful. We’ve nothing to link him to the first two kills but he’s picking up steam, which, to me, translates into a mind growing more and more out of control. A matter of time before he slips up.”
“If this mastermind recruited Cyrus, then he’s made a mistake. Cyrus is sloppy.”
“You got someone watching Cyrus?”
“Yeah. Sooner or later, he’s going to reach out to his boss.”
Georgia picked up a pencil marred with chew marks and rolled it between her fingers. “Jenna does fit the profile of the two dead women and Pamela. Dark-haired. Assertive. And this guy left a memento on her doorstep. She’s on his radar.”
“The other women were stalked for almost a year. Jenna has only been here a few weeks.”
“Her family is from the area.” Georgia bit the end of the pencil. “And what if your crazy theory about this case being linked to the Thompson case is right. Jenna looks like Sara.”