unhappily and switched back over to Vincent. “Tess just told me there’s another demonstration in front of the precinct.”
“That’s bad,” Vincent said. “All these murders. Remember Beth Bowman, Catherine’s friend?”
“The reporter Gabe killed? By ripping out her heart?”
“We spun that one that he was committing vicious murders and trying to pin them on me. But he’s dead and I’ve been exonerated.”
“I follow where you’re going,” J.T. said. “There’s no way to deflect these cases. Someone’s going to figure this out. If you detected a beast presence when you were with Aliyah Patel, there’s going to be evidence at the crime scene.”
“Unless this beast is different and the lab equipment doesn’t have the right markers.”
There was a beat. Then at the exact same time, both of them said, “Or unless someone
else
switches the samples out.”
“New beast, new beast-maker. New conspiracy,” Vincent said. He sounded tired.
“We never seem to run out of them, do we.” J.T. was not posing a question. “Maybe in this day and age we can’t expect this just to stop. Digital files, info clouds… back when Rebecca Reynolds wrote out her journal in longhand, beasts could be kept a secret.”
“Not really. Her beast, Alastair, was burned at the stake,” Vincent reminded him.
“Tess called to put me on the phone number you got this morning,” he said. “A ‘Private X’? ‘Private’ as in ‘for your eyes only’ or ‘private’ as in ‘army’?”
Vincent was silent for a moment. J.T. waited for yet another dire revelation.
“It’s about Lafferty,” he said with guilt and self-loathing in his voice. J.T. would recognize those qualities anywhere. Vincent had been quite the brooder before Cat had come into his life.
“
Lafferty
. What about Lafferty?” J.T. asked cautiously. When his best friend stayed mute, J.T. hunched forward, as if Vincent were sitting on the other side of the desk instead of spying on NYPD CSU. “Vincent, we’ve been over this. You had no way of knowing.”
“J.T., you don’t think… could this
be
Lafferty?”
“
What?
” J.T. was so shocked he rose from his chair. It fell over backwards with a crash.
“I mean, if they did something
else
to her. I thought she died. I thought I saw it. But maybe she survived… and went into hiding like I did but then something happened. Something
more.
Maybe, I don’t know, she’s here looking for me. Because of our past. Because of… what I did.” He sighed. “I mean, what I
didn’t
do.”
“No, Vincent. We’ve been through this.”
“But that was before the letter.”
“No one has actually told me about the letter,” J.T. said.
“I have a picture of it. I’ll send it to you. Hold on.”
J.T. held. Vincent’s photo arrived and J.T. opened the letter up on one of his computer monitors. He read it.
“Karl Tiptree,” he said. “I think I’ve come across his name in research somewhere.”
“Cat and Tess are investigating, but if you can make any connections that’d be great,” Vincent said. “I went to that crime scene back when he was murdered. I had no sense at all that he’d been killed by a beast, J.T. None. But today, when I carried Aliyah Patel to the ambulance, I knew she’d been in the proximity of a beast. Maybe that means there are
two
beasts besides me. One I can sense… and one that I can’t.”
“Oh boy.” J.T. rested his hand on his forehead. “After this, can we all, like, go on a sabbatical or something? A cruise? With lots of drinking?”
“It does seem like we can’t catch a break,” Vincent agreed.
“We’ve been involved in more homicide investigations than there are people in the state of Wyoming. I know. I checked.” He clicked his keyboard and zoomed in on a grid of NYC traffic. “I can’t give you camera footage but I can say that the entire block where the attack occurred is completely blocked off. Which sounds redundant. Block and
“That’s bad,” Vincent said. “All these murders. Remember Beth Bowman, Catherine’s friend?”
“The reporter Gabe killed? By ripping out her heart?”
“We spun that one that he was committing vicious murders and trying to pin them on me. But he’s dead and I’ve been exonerated.”
“I follow where you’re going,” J.T. said. “There’s no way to deflect these cases. Someone’s going to figure this out. If you detected a beast presence when you were with Aliyah Patel, there’s going to be evidence at the crime scene.”
“Unless this beast is different and the lab equipment doesn’t have the right markers.”
There was a beat. Then at the exact same time, both of them said, “Or unless someone
else
switches the samples out.”
“New beast, new beast-maker. New conspiracy,” Vincent said. He sounded tired.
“We never seem to run out of them, do we.” J.T. was not posing a question. “Maybe in this day and age we can’t expect this just to stop. Digital files, info clouds… back when Rebecca Reynolds wrote out her journal in longhand, beasts could be kept a secret.”
“Not really. Her beast, Alastair, was burned at the stake,” Vincent reminded him.
“Tess called to put me on the phone number you got this morning,” he said. “A ‘Private X’? ‘Private’ as in ‘for your eyes only’ or ‘private’ as in ‘army’?”
Vincent was silent for a moment. J.T. waited for yet another dire revelation.
“It’s about Lafferty,” he said with guilt and self-loathing in his voice. J.T. would recognize those qualities anywhere. Vincent had been quite the brooder before Cat had come into his life.
“
Lafferty
. What about Lafferty?” J.T. asked cautiously. When his best friend stayed mute, J.T. hunched forward, as if Vincent were sitting on the other side of the desk instead of spying on NYPD CSU. “Vincent, we’ve been over this. You had no way of knowing.”
“J.T., you don’t think… could this
be
Lafferty?”
“
What?
” J.T. was so shocked he rose from his chair. It fell over backwards with a crash.
“I mean, if they did something
else
to her. I thought she died. I thought I saw it. But maybe she survived… and went into hiding like I did but then something happened. Something
more.
Maybe, I don’t know, she’s here looking for me. Because of our past. Because of… what I did.” He sighed. “I mean, what I
didn’t
do.”
“No, Vincent. We’ve been through this.”
“But that was before the letter.”
“No one has actually told me about the letter,” J.T. said.
“I have a picture of it. I’ll send it to you. Hold on.”
J.T. held. Vincent’s photo arrived and J.T. opened the letter up on one of his computer monitors. He read it.
“Karl Tiptree,” he said. “I think I’ve come across his name in research somewhere.”
“Cat and Tess are investigating, but if you can make any connections that’d be great,” Vincent said. “I went to that crime scene back when he was murdered. I had no sense at all that he’d been killed by a beast, J.T. None. But today, when I carried Aliyah Patel to the ambulance, I knew she’d been in the proximity of a beast. Maybe that means there are
two
beasts besides me. One I can sense… and one that I can’t.”
“Oh boy.” J.T. rested his hand on his forehead. “After this, can we all, like, go on a sabbatical or something? A cruise? With lots of drinking?”
“It does seem like we can’t catch a break,” Vincent agreed.
“We’ve been involved in more homicide investigations than there are people in the state of Wyoming. I know. I checked.” He clicked his keyboard and zoomed in on a grid of NYC traffic. “I can’t give you camera footage but I can say that the entire block where the attack occurred is completely blocked off. Which sounds redundant. Block and
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