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play in this. Under hypnosis, a
person may act in a way vastly different from how he or she would
normally behave. I do believe the killer may be under a similar
influence.”
Lindy frowned. What her
colleague said sounded logical, but something told her that the
killer wasn't under the influence of any drugs, illusion or hypnotic
suggestion.
“That's not
entirely...” she began.
But no one was listening.
Words were ricocheting all over the room. Lindy winced. Had she
messed up the briefing?
This was a difficult case,
and everyone was on edge, impatient and angry that there was no
breakthrough.
No one in the database had
matched her profile. They were looking at a strange new type of
killer. A killer who could look like anyone and everyone.
She knew the search
perimeters were broad, but there was just no way to narrow it down.
They really had to be on high alert, and anyone could be a suspect.
It was sad and scary, but true.
Maximus walked to the front
of the room. He was the head of the Behavioral Analysis Department,
and almost every officer in the room had worked with him at some time
or other in their career.
Maximus pointed at the
gruesome pictures of the victims' body on the screen and said
quietly, “Do you think that this is the work of a normal sane
human being?”
He waited for the murmurs and
head-shaking to die down.
“Do you think that
these three victims were impressionable, gullible people? Do you
think that with their experience and abilities, they would be easily
hoodwinked and fooled?”
Again there were muttered
comments and opinions.
“Think. Think about
who the victims were, the kind of people they were and how they would
most likely have acted in any situation. Then think about what Lindy
and Ross said. Psychosis, hypnosis, lunacy might have a part to play
in the killings. But as Lindy said, everyone is a suspect. Think
about the people you see and pass on the street. You think you know
them? You think they're like you and me?” He paused, letting
the words sink in. “Think again. You'll see that Lindy is
right. The killer is out there, or maybe, right here. And he looks
just like you and me.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
The four Black Bears
regrouped in front of Skyflame Casino. Baxter paced to and fro and
scowled at the busy traffic and endless pedestrians. There were
cars, cabs, buses, people, shifters everywhere.
He muttered an oath. “So
many scents, and none of them demon.”
“He's not going to be
wandering around openly, waiting to get caught,” Dylan said.
“He'll mask his scent and appearance. Cunning little shit.”
“We have to work
faster, cover more ground,” Baxter said. “Let's flush
the shit out and send him back to hell by dinnertime.” His
mouth rounded and he slapped his palm to his forehead. “Dinner!
Damn! I almost forgot. I have a dinner date!”
Dylan rounded on him. “The
world is in jeopardy and you're thinking of a dinner date?”
“Yeah. I am thinking
of her,” Baxter said unapologetically.
“Her?”
Baxter deflected the question
by turning the attention to Thor. “Can you say that you're not
thinking of Aubrey? In times of deadly peril, when everything that
is dear to you is at stake...” Baxter clutched at his heart
dramatically. “Who is foremost in your mind, Thor?”
Thor gamely answered with a
smile, “Of course I'll think of Aubrey. She is my mate.”
“Well, Lindy is my...”
Dylan, Luke and Thor gasped
and said in unison, “Your mate?”
“My...friend,”
Baxter finished very carefully.
“Your friend? Ha!
You've never been so anxious and angsty about a dinner date with a
friend before. If she's really just a friend, I'll eat my boot!”
Dylan scoffed.
Baxter puffed out his cheeks.
Much as he would like to see Dylan swallow his words together with
his big, smelly boot, he couldn't bring himself to lie and say that
Lindy was just a friend. She was much, much more to him.
“What's with all this
gossiping? Let's get to
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