thought in mind.”
“I think we’ve been wrong. I think the dream catchers were just a ploy and the real key to the killer is you.”
Her dark eyes widened slightly. “Are we talking about John again?”
“Not necessarily. But I think the killer is somebody from your life, somebody who is just using Mystic Lake as his playground, and the victims and the dream catchers were just a ploy to get you here. I think Ben was right as far as that part of his theory. I don’t know if it’s John or not, but you need to think about other cases you’ve been involved in, people you’ve had fights with and anyone who would want to hurt you. I want you to take Mystic Creek out of the mix and anyone else but you.”
She sat back in her chair and wrapped her fingers around her mug, as if his words had suddenly made her hands go cold. “I can’t imagine anyone who would go to these lengths to hurt me,” she said after a moment of hesitation. “The last case I worked was a kidnapping for ransom, but I wasn’t lead on the case and didn’t have that much interaction with the perp who was caught.” She shook her head, obviously at a loss. “I try not to make enemies in my life. Granny Nightsong always taught me to tread lightly and leave no footprints behind.”
“A nice concept but almost impossible to do.” He took a sip of his coffee and then placed the mug back on the table and leaned forward.
“Sometimes you step on toes and don’t even realize it at the time. You’re tired and frustrated and snap at somebody who doesn’t deserve your attitude. There’s got to be somebody, Amberly, and we need to start someplace with this new theory.”
“So, what do you need from me?”
“I’d like you to make a list of coworkers who might not be thrilled with you. I want you to write down the names of neighbors and friends you interact with on a regular basis, criminals who might have a personal reason to hate you.”
“You really believe this is somebody from my life and not just some creep from your town?”
“I can’t be sure. But we’ve been spinning our wheels in my town. Now I think we need to spend some time spinning them in your life.” He could tell by the darkness of her eyes how much the idea disturbed her.
“You still think John might be responsible for all this.” It wasn’t a question but rather a flat statement that held the undertone of displeasure.
“Do you really think I’d park my son with a man I thought was capable of killing anyone? I’ve known John for almost eight years, was married to him for three of those years.” She moved her hands from her mug as she continued. “I’m not a stupid woman, I’m an FBI agent, and I would have seen through the years, I would have sensed, if something was this off with John.”
“I’m definitely leaning toward the assumption of John’s innocence,” Cole said softly. “But I’m also leaning toward this being all about you and the fact that Mystic Lake is involved at all might be incidental.”
“I think I liked it better when it was some crazy serial killer just randomly murdering women,” she replied.
“It’s still that,” he countered. “I just think whoever it is wanted you specifically on this case, wanted you away from your comfort zone because it might make you a more vulnerable victim.”
She rubbed two fingers across her forehead as if to ease a headache that had begun to pound.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have at least waited to talk to you about this until you’d had your second cup of coffee.”
She flashed him a quick smile that warmed him from head to toe. “I’m not sure that an entire pot of coffee would have managed to take the sting out of this conversation.”
“At this point, it’s just another crazy theory,” he said in an attempt to take away the sting. “For the moment, we remove John from the scenario and see who else you might come up with.” He got up from his chair. “And now I’m going to make us some breakfast so we can start the day off right.”
“A little late for that,” she muttered.
Still, by the time they’d eaten eggs and toast and sausage links and she’d downed another two cups of coffee, she appeared ready to focus on this