Page 3 of So Lethal (Faith Bold #22)

Faith sat next to David on the couch. Their clothes remained off, but both wore bathrobes—not matching ones, thankfully—and enough skin remained exposed to give Faith a healthy boost of oxytocin even though sexy time was done for the evening.

After several minutes, Turk gave up begging. He sighed and trotted dejectedly to his bowl.

“Oh, quit whining,” Faith called after him. “You’re eating marinated steak and whole grain rice. It’s a lot healthier than what I’m eating.”

Turk cast her a look reminding her that healthy and flavorful rarely went hand in hand. He started into his meal with reasonable excitement, though, so maybe his healthy food wasn’t so terrible after all.

“I hope you enjoyed your takeout,” David told her. “You bribed me with your body tonight, but tomorrow, we’re having a healthy meal that I will cook myself.”

Faith scoffed. “You and I both know I can bribe you with my body every night, and you’ll succumb to my wiles. But I will allow you to make healthy food tomorrow.”

“You’re right and thank you.”

She laughed and patted his rock-hard abs. She was unashamed to admit that his six-pack was her favorite feature of his. “I appreciate your willingness to succumb to my wiles today. After that therapy session, I really needed to unwind.”

“I thought therapy was supposed to help you unwind.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she replied. “But Dr. Keraya is more the type of doctor who likes to pick at a problem until it’s completely understood and solved.”

“You mean like you?”

She frowned slightly. “You’re only saying that because you know it’s too late for me to deny you sex.”

He laughed. “You know I can’t resist the urge to tease you at every opportunity. On a serious note, though, that’s a good thing, right? I mean, she’s helping you confront things. That’s what a good therapist does.”

“It’s what an annoying therapist does. But yes, I supposed it’s good.” She sat up. “I just…”

She wasn’t sure exactly how to put into words what she “just,” so she ended that sentence with a sigh. David gently rubbed in between her shoulder blades. “I know. It’s tough.”

“We talked about the Messenger Killer,” Faith said. She wasn’t sure why she was bringing this up with him, but it felt better to talk about something than nothing.

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

Faith sighed. “Well, there’s a reason I told you I didn’t want to watch the news.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yep. West is the face of the media again, and somehow I’m the heel despite the fact that he’s a serial murderer, and I’m the person who spearheaded the effort to stop him.

Everyone loves the idea that the Messenger Killer is Juliet to his Romeo, and for some reason, everyone loves the idea that it’s somehow my fault. ”

“Really? I haven’t heard anyone blame you.”

“No one’s coming out and saying it, but I can tell that’s what they think.”

“How can you tell?”

This was starting to sound like a therapy session, so she deflected the subject. “I don’t know. I think I’m just pissed that she didn’t show herself. I thought that publishing those letters would cause her to come out of the woodwork.”

“You thought she’d take credit for writing them?”

Faith poked at a nearly empty carton of chow mein. “I didn’t think she’d walk into the Field Office and say, ‘Hi guys, it’s me. I’m the killer. Don’t you like those letters I wrote?’ but I thought they’d send an anonymous note that we could follow up on and start narrowing down the field.”

“Yeah? I’m sorry, Faith.”

Sorry didn’t do shit for anyone, but one lesson Faith had managed to take to heart from therapy was to accept sympathy from people, so she managed to reply, “Thank you,” and not feel the accompanying rush of irritation that typically followed such a statement.

She crossed her legs on the couch and said, “I’m just worried that she’ll fade into the background.

West is going to be found guilty eventually.

This little media circus gave him a momentary breath of life, but he’s going to be found guilty, and when he is, interest in him will fade.

He’ll be sentenced to life without parole or to death, and—”

“You think he’ll avoid death?”

Faith shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s talk about the prosecution asking the governor to lift the moratorium on capital punishment, but I don’t think they’ll fight very hard for it.”

“It’s a federal case, though, isn’t it?”

“There is a federal case, but this is the state trial for Pennsylvania since all but one of his murders took place here.

We could pursue the death penalty for killing in multiple states and crossing state lines to flee, but I'm fine with life without parole.

That's life with no relevancy, and for West, that's a fate worse than death.

“Anyway, the point I was making is that he’s going to be sentenced, and the world will move on. He won’t be interesting anymore. The Messenger will probably stay underground now that she’s spooked, and no one will want to look for her.”

David shrugged. “I mean… as long as she’s not killing people anymore, right?”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “No. That’s not good enough.

I’m so sick of people saying that. People shouldn’t get away with murder.

A serial killer shouldn’t get away with brutally killing innocent people just because it’s easier to let the case go cold.

So she doesn’t kill anyone else. That means her victims don’t get justice? ”

“All right,” David said, lifting his hands in a placatory gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to look at the bright side.”

“The bright side is that bad guys go away,” Faith said tersely. “They go to prison, a mental hospital, or a pine box. Getting away with murder and spending the rest of your life free and clear isn’t a fucking bright side.”

David didn’t say anything. Faith took deep breaths until her anger subsided, then nudged David. “Sorry. I just… I really hate failing.”

Thank God David didn’t try to make some bullshit argument about how she didn’t fail. Instead, he said, “I know. I’m sorry, baby.”

Sorry might not do shit, but it felt good to hear this time. Maybe because she really was annoyed by his bright side comment. She sighed again. “Well, it’s not over yet. We’ll keep looking. People like this screw up eventually. We’ll find her.”

“Yes, you will,” David said. “You always do.”

Out loud, Faith said, “Damn straight.” In her head, she said, Yes, I always do. But usually, I have to find a few more victims first.

That was the real frustration, the "core of the issue," as Dr. Keraya would say.

Faith was by some metrics the most successful FBI agent in history at finding spree killers and serial killers.

The problem was that after Jethro Trammell, there were a lot more spree killers than serial killers, meaning killers who killed a large number of victims over a short amount of time.

Traditionally, serial killers took their victims over a longer period of time.

Other than the timeframe, though, these killers all fit the definition of a serial killer.

They were highly organized, they had specific profiles, and they had ritualistic MOs.

Not all serial killers exhibited that behavior, but no spree killer did.

Spree killers acted opportunistically and spur of the moment.

They also acted—usually—with only limited concern for how the deaths were brought about. The name of the game was body count.

The strange mixture of characteristics that the killers Faith hunted exhibited had led the FBI to consider labeling a new type of killer, the highly prolific serial killer.

That label would probably change a dozen times before they settled on a final one, but Faith thought highly prolific was a good way to think about it.

These killers would take their victims within days of each other.

That meant that each time Faith had a case, she had hours to find the killer before they killed another victim.

And they always killed another victim. Sometimes two or more. Faith was fast, but she wasn’t that fast. It bothered her, especially when her leads ran dry, and she was stuck almost waiting for a serial killer to murder someone else so she could have more evidence to dig through.

And that’s why she felt guilty. She could never save everyone. Yes, she caught the killers eventually, but not until they murdered other people first. She was supposed to protect them, and she couldn’t.

A furry head wrestled its way onto her lap. She looked down and saw Turk gazing up at her. He must have sensed her discomfort and come over to make her feel better. She smiled and ruffled his fur.

Content that Faith was well enough to not need his immediate attention, Turk sat across hers and David’s feet and watched the tv.

David had put on a movie about a group of middle schoolers who stumbled across buried treasure only to learn that the mob was after that treasure too.

It was meant as a comedy, but all Faith could think was how terrified those children must have been knowing that professional killers were chasing them.

Her phone buzzed. Her partner, Michael. She got to her feet and moved to the kitchen, Turk following curiously. “Hey, Michael. What’s up?”

“Got a new case. Tabitha’s still pissed at you, so she called me and told me to tell you.”

Assistant Special Agent in Charge Tabitha Gardner was the temporary head of the Philadelphia Field Office. She really didn’t like Faith, and the feeling was mutual. “Got it. What’s the case?”

“Couple of murders in the Bay Area.”

“The Bay Area, California?”

“Is there another bay area?”

“Quite a few, actually.”

She could almost hear Michael roll his eyes. “Well, yes, the San Francisco Bay Area. Specifically San Jose and San Francisco.”

“San Jose, huh? Your old stomping grounds.”

Michael was born and raised in San Jose, California, but had moved east upon graduating from college. He rarely mentioned his hometown, but when he did, it was always with a level of pride that Faith found odd considering he hadn’t lived there in almost twenty years.

“Yep. Did you know it’s actually bigger than San Francisco?”

Faith smiled slightly. “Really? That’s really big.”

“Yeah, it’s the third…” He stopped as Faith’s sarcasm reached him. “You know what, I don’t need this kind of abuse.”

Faith laughed and said, “All right. I assume this is the part where you tell me I have to leave now.”

“Yep. I’m coming to pick you up. Did I interrupt anything spicy?”

“No, we got that out of the way earlier.”

“Yeesh. My fault for asking. See you in a bit.”

He hung up, and Faith returned to the living room. “Sorry, David. That was Michael. We have a case.”

He smiled wryly. “Oh yeah, I can tell you’re sorry. It was the grin that gave it away.”

Heat climbed her cheeks. “Well, to be honest, I am also excited to have something to do. It’s been over a month since my last case, and since my efforts with the messenger have yielded nothing, I might as well catch another bad guy while I’m waiting.”

“That’s the spirit.” He got to his feet and kissed her softly. “Go get ‘em, baby.”

She kissed him back just under his jaw. “I will. And I will come back and happily give you some more of the sexy time we got to have today.”

He chuckled. “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”

She kissed him a final time, then said, “Hey Turk, guess what? We get to go catch another bad guy.”

Turk barked excitedly. Faith crouched low and pulled him into a bear hug. The discomfort that lingered in her mind after her therapy session dissipated. She was back in her element.