She closes her legs. “This is not a team dynamic. I don’t know what this is but…it’s not anything I can classify.”
“There’s no alpha,” I say, agreeing with her assessment. “There always has to be a dominant in a duo.”
“Precisely.”
“But whose rule is that?”
She reflexively rubs at the inked key along her hand. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve already proven that it’s important. We’ll unravel, otherwise. Trust doesn’t come easily between two people who have suffered an early life trauma.” She sucks in a breath. “Someone has to take charge.”
Having a partner is a new experience for me, and for London. It’s like dancing, figuring out who will lead.
“It should be you,” I decide.
She looks up from toying with her string. “Why?”
“Because you’re able to reside in public. You have a reputable career. You’re above reproach. And, because I do trust you, London. As long as Lydia doesn’t call the shots.”
She considers this a moment, then: “A submissive partner typically employs manipulative tactics to sway and control the dominant. I suppose that describes us quite accurately.” Her light laugh dances over my skin.
“Let’s consider it foreplay,” I say.
“Wait—” Her amused expression drops. “Who is the suspect? I need to know so I can get an understanding of their motive. A copycat isn’t that different from a typical serial offender, but there are marked variances. They have a reason as to why they’re motivated to kill. Is it an obsessed fan? No.” She dismisses that right away. “Not all the details were revealed to the public. That means—”
“The copycat has inside knowledge.” Had she not been sidetracked with the Mize investigation, London would’ve figured this out sooner. Makes me wonder if the derailment was done to her on purpose.
After a moment of thought, she shakes her head. “No. That is a huge reach, Grayson. You’re trying to take the game to a level that—besides risking you, me, everything—will end badly.”
“This isn’t a theory, London. It’s a fact. Only two men fit the copycat profile. Which means either Detective Foster or Agent Nelson has been moonlighting as the Angel of Maine.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She swipes her bangs from her forehead, dismissing the theory. “How do the Rockland crime scenes confirm this?”
“This person has done his own study on me, adopting my MO. He’s good. Good enough to fool most, but as you know, method is ritual. Signature excites. The compulsion to experience the kill…the temptation to make it his own… Every man falls victim to pride. We’re simple beasts.” I shrug, indifferent. “It’s where we fail.”
“How did you collect this information?”
“I took a chance,” I admit. “Which I may regret later, but we needed the intel.” She raises an eyebrow, not impressed. “One of the CSU techs has a weakness for call girls.”
She sighs heavily. “You left him alive.”
“My affections for you apparently make me soft.” I smile. “How would Lydia feel about this topic of conversation?”
She inches her legs open as she relaxes into the chair. “Intrigued.”
Good. “I gathered enough to know that my suspicion on the signature is accurate. He mimics everything, like a perfect echo, except for one flaw: He indulges himself at the end. My kills are about technique, the design. He enjoys feeling the life he’s taking leave the body. He can’t help himself.
“Every trap he crafted allowed for contusions around the victims’ necks. Easily disguised behind the design itself, but if you look closely, you understand why he rigged it this way. So he—not the trap—could kill them.” Disgust roils through me. “It’s an insult to my craft, really.”
London slips her fingers over her thigh. This part always excited her—the details.
“That’s why Larry’s death had to be different; a shift in MO,” I continue. “Allowing the killer to get closer to the victim, delivering a more personalized death. We had to test the theory.”
Her hand stills. “We? I wasn’t a part of your scheme. You kept me in the dark.”
I push my hands along the armrests. “You were too close to both Foster and Nelson. Any indication that you were aware of either one of them could put you in danger.”
“I don’t buy that, Grayson. I think it comes back to trust. You’re still operating solo. I have the perfect position to evaluate their behavior.”
My reflexive instinct is to deny her allegation, but I stop myself. We’re governed by our fears, and I’ve feared losing London since the moment I found her. Despite my intelligence level, I’m no different than the average man, fearing rejection, loss.