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spoke quietly, “You okay?”
    â€œUh-huh. Let’s get moving, we have to meet with Caine.”
    There was something else we had to do. Something important, that I couldn’t put my finger on, nagged at me. I was sure a switch needed flipping somewhere.

Chapter Seven
Misunderstood
    Caine’s office door was open. I could see his cantankerous self sitting at his desk writing long hand, while his computer sat idly by. I knocked on the doorframe. Light reflected off the top of his balding head as he raised his eyes to mine.
    â€œYou made it,” Caine said, sounding as cranky as ever. “What are you standing out there for? Close my door behind you.”
    It was very tempting to reach out, slam the door and walk away; but I resisted. We entered the spacious office. Mac shut the door behind us and took a seat next to me.
    â€œYou in on this, Mac?”
    â€œLooks like it,” Mac replied, with his usual calm assurance.
    Caine gave him a stony look that an outsider would interpret as hostility – to us it was equivalent to a warm embrace – then turned his attention to me.
    â€œHow are you, Ellie?”
    â€œI’m okay.”
    Caine’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “And again. This time the truth.”
    â€œI’m okay,” I reiterated with more conviction.
    I saw his eyes cut to Mac’s then he let it go. “Who do we like for these new homicides?”
    â€œNo one, yet.” I let my mind bring up the scenes, then continued. “This feels like an escalation: whoever this is, he’s been out there raping and assaulting women for some time and now that’s not enough.”
    He rocked back in his chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head.
    â€œAnd the words? The poem?”
    â€œIt’s my opinion that he staged the scene before placing the woman in the center.”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œThe writing is fairly even; he took care and attention. Possibly he even copied the lines from something. He was in control.” I smothered that thought with a fire blanket, not wanting images of our poetry book at a crime scene. “If he’d just murdered, I would’ve expected to see evidence of high adrenaline, maybe shaky writing and malformed letters. All we have to indicate his state of mind, is his self-control. He was calm and unhurried.”
    â€œInteresting observation.”
    â€œI get the feeling he had time prior to the arrival of the victims, time to stage his scene and plan everything. He was waiting for them.”
    â€œMmmm.”
    â€œHe also had enough time to position them afterwards, so he was sure no one was going to disturb him. Could have stalked them, or at least had them under surveillance for a short period.”
    Caine nodded but said nothing.
    â€œI could be way off but that’s my impression.”
    The hard line of Caine’s mouth blurred. I recognized that as his equivalent to a wide grin. “I think you’re probably on track.”
    Nice to get a vote of confidence from the boss: enough of a boost for me to carry on with my observations. “Our killer has perfected his talents, he’s experienced.”
    â€œYou’re doing okay so far, kid.” The right corner of Caine’s mouth twitched.
    â€œKids.” I said. “You’ve just reminded me, both women had kids. We’re still trying to locate the children of the second victim.”
    â€œLet’s hope they’re at school and safe.”
    I nodded. “Did you get a report on any weapons found?”
    â€œNo. The medical examiner copied us both on his pre-autopsy findings. He found stab wounds in the back and defensive wounds on the arms of both women. It appears that both the victims died from the wounds inflicted; they bled to death. From now on, all correspondence regarding these deaths goes to you and your team.”
    Bled to death. That phrase dragged out a word