propelled him out of bed. Still groggy, he fumbled around the nightstand until he found the phone and brought it to his ear. “Lackland.”
“I got a call from Sheriff Callahan. He received a message from. . . someone.” Olivia caught herself before she said the name aloud. They’d both been careful not to mention Will or Lizzy Grayson in their investigation after their run-in with Director Holden. The man appeared to have his own agenda that had nothing to do with solving the Van Gogh case.
“What did it say?” Asher asked. Right away, his gut tightened. Lizzy Grayson had been the one to break the Van Gogh case wide open by affirming that they were dealing with two separate serial killers working in tandem. The thought was horrifying. The only bright side was the revelation that one of the killers had died at the hands of his own son.
The time on the phone said it was almost midnight. Asher cleared his throat to rid the sleep from his voice and prepared himself for bad news.
He and Declan had been chasing the killer since the first body showed up in D.C. with her ear chopped off like Van Gogh. A copy of Starry Night lay near the body. Along with a photo of the woman’s fearful face before the killer had mutilated her body.
So far, the details were slim. They were still digging into Edward Buckley’s past, but what they’d discovered was terrifying. The man had been a killer for a long time.
“The killer sent a photo. He’s taken another victim, and this time we have a name. Sylvia Abbott. She and Lizzy were roommates at Georgetown.”
A name? The words settled over Asher like a reoccurring nightmare. “So, he’s started up again. He didn’t waste time, did he?” The Van Gogh Killers had gone silent five years ago. There’d been no new victims. Asher and his former partner, Declan, had thought something happened to the killer. Perhaps he’d died or had been incarcerated for another crime. Until a few weeks earlier when the case had blown wide open and they realized they were looking at two killers.
“No, he didn’t. Unless this is some kook acting as a copycat and seeking recognition for himself.”
A strange thing to say. “Why would you think that?”
A car rumbled in the background. Olivia was on the road. Probably heading to the Hoover building.
“Because there are some differences from the previous MO.”
Asher grabbed his clothes and changed quickly. “Such as?”
“Well for one, there was no connection between the previous victims. And in the past, the killer left a Polaroid along with the picture of Starry Night near the victim’s body. In this case the killer sent it to someone else.”
Olivia was deliberately careful not to give too much information away, which meant she was worried about someone, namely Holden, listening in on their conversation. After what happened earlier, nothing would surprise Asher. “Where is the latest victim living now?”
“Here in D.C. The victim has an apartment. She’s different from the previous ones who appeared to fit the same physical description. White. Female. Twenty to thirty years of age, dark hair.”
Asher finished dressing and grabbed his weapon lockbox from where he kept it above his dresser. He punched in the correct code, opened the box, and removed his Glock and extra magazines.
“Obviously, the fact that she’s female and of a certain age fits the previous killings, but our latest victim has red hair like mine. And she knew Lizzy. In fact, they were friends. Other than the hair color and the relationship with what we believe was the last victim of Van Gogh, there’s something else, but I’ll have to explain that later on.” The killer had reached out to Lizzy Grayson. Was it because she escaped?
“I’m surprised he started up again so quickly following Buckley’s death. Maybe he’s trying to carry on his mentor’s work. Or step out from Buckley’s shadow.” Olivia blew out a breath. “I may be reading more into this madman’s mind than is there. The change in MO could mean nothing.”
Revulsion rose in Asher’s throat. “Or it could be a clue into the killer’s mindset. Can you tell anything from the background in the photo?” Asher knew the answer, but he was hoping there might be some clue as to the location where the victim was held. “Nothing really. She’s lying on a cement floor unconscious. There’s nothing visible in the photo except for the gray cement.”
“What do we know about our victim