Copycat Killer (Psychic For Hire 1)

I tickle her ears, refusing to look at him. Beastie prowls around his couch until she finds a spot that she deems comfortable enough. Ignoring both him and me, she resumes the nap she had been taking on my bed earlier.

“Who do you think it’s from?” I ask him, wanting to spill my theory about Beatrice Grictor.

“We’ll have to wait for forensics,” he says.

“But you agree that it’s not actually from DCK, right? It must be connected to this current case?”

“What makes you think that?” he says.

“Because it’s goddamn Beatrice Grictor who sent it, is why!” I explode.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, ignoring my outburst.

“No I do not!” I snap. “I want to talk about why she is sending me a threat like that. And for God’s sake, would you put on a shirt or something?”

He goes out of the room for a moment and when he comes back he is shrugging on a shirt. “What makes you think it was Beatrice?” he says perfectly calmly.

“Ooh, Beatrice, is it now?” I say. “Because I smelled an apple perfume when I opened the card, and I noticed the same perfume when she came inside Raif’s office.”

“There’s an apple tree on the front of this card. It could have been auto suggestion. You could have imagined it.”

“I never imagined it! She put that apple tree there on purpose, so I would know it was her. I’m sure of it.”

He is shaking his head.

“For God’s sake Storm. You’ve talked to her a couple of times, right? And I bet you keep that coin with you all the time. So she had opportunity to steal it!”

“People could say the same of you,” he says in a measured tone.

I glower at him. “I can’t believe you said that!”

“It’s not pleasant to be accused of something without proof, is it?” he says. “And why would she implicate herself in a crime? She’s a smart lady, and she is not even a suspect.”

“She’s made this personal!” I snap. “She hates me for some reason. I know it. I just don’t know why.”

“Listen to yourself! Are you saying that this double-murder was all about you? It sounds crazy. It is you who is making personal when it comes to Beatrice.”

Crazy. He called me crazy. I open my mouth to yell at him, to tell him what the wizard said, but to the little voice in my head hisses a warning. Don’t tell him everything we know, she snarls. We still have to win this wager.

“Are you even investigating her?” I demand. “Or have you taken everything that she said for granted?”

“Diana, what part of rock-solid alibi do you not understand? I spoke to Ambassador Vetruvin, who confirmed she was with him for the entire duration of the murder window. Are you suggesting that the Otherworld Ambassador to London is lying? Or perhaps you think he was her accomplice.”

“No,” I mutter resentfully. “Of course not. But she could have some other accomplice.”

“That’s complete conjecture,” he says in a tone verging on frustration. “What motive does she have?”

The little voice hisses to remind me not to give anything away. Feeling defeated, I slump back against his couch and don’t bother to reply.

“We’ll wait for the forensics to get back,” he says in a conciliatory tone. “Hopefully this will give us a new lead.”

“Just say it,” I mutter at him.

“Say what?” He looks genuinely bewildered.

“I know you’re thinking it. You’re thinking that if I hadn’t got involved in this case then no one would have had a reason to send me a threat. But I’m close. I know it.”

He doesn’t bother to reply to that. His intercom is ringing. “That’ll be the forensics,” he says. “I’m going to speak to them. You can’t go back to your place tonight. Do you have somewhere you can stay?”