Delusion in Death (In Death #35)(92)

“You can. Please, call me Lew.”

“Lew.” She tried for a relieved smile as she gestured him inside. “Detective Peabody, my partner, and Doctor Mira, our profiler.”

Peabody nodded, continued to work on a computer while Mira rose, hand extended. “Thank you for coming in to consult.”

“I consider it my duty.”

“If only more did.”

“Do you want some crappy coffee, something from Vending?” Eve asked him.

He gave her an easy smile. “Crappy coffee’s just fine.” He moved forward to the boards, shifted to study the victims. “All of these people. I knew how many. The media’s reported so much. But seeing them like this, all together. It’s shocking.”

“Those responsible have a great deal to answer for,” Mira stated.

“You’re looking for more than one person?”

“We’ve determined it’s not possible for a single individual to pull this off.” Eve spoke briskly as she programmed a pot of coffee. “It’s too complex, involves too much risk, too much planning, too many steps.”

“At this time,” Mira put in, “we feel it’s most probable we’re dealing with a group.” She gestured to the victim board again. “In each case one of these people sacrificed themselves for the whole.”

“My God.” He took the coffee Eve offered, ignored her. “But why?”

“We have a few theories, but foremost, if there’s a group, there’s a head.” Eve took a seat. “Whoever that is, must be charismatic, dominant, and highly organized and intelligent. The target locations catered to businesses and offices like your own.”

“People who work and live in that area,” Mira continued, joining Eve at the table so Callaway stood in the position of dominance. “We expected, and hoped, he would issue a statement, reveal his agenda or demands. The fact that he hasn’t proves him canny and very, very dangerous. He understands the value of noninformation, of inciting fear and panic. Those who believe in him believe in that agenda. Without that information …” She lifted her hands.

“Which is where you might be able to help,” Eve told him. “We’ve been able to eliminate some of the victims, through background checks, interviews. We’re taking a close look at survivors of the attacks.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Whoever the leader sent in would have the best chance of surviving—knowing what’s coming, being able to take some sort of defense against it.”

“Exactly. It helps we don’t have to spell everything out for you.”

“Just common sense again,” he said to Eve.

“Now the lab has been able to identify the most probable source, and we’ve reconstructed the attack—again the most probable scenario given the data.”

“A reconstruction? It may jog something if I could see it.”

You’d love it, Eve thought. “Let’s hope we don’t have to go there, Lew. Even computer-generated, it’s gruesome.” She opened a file. “This woman.” She tapped her finger on CiCi Way’s photo. “Do you recognize her?”

“She looks familiar.” He knitted his brows.

“She’s one of the survivors.”

He took the photo, studied it carefully. “Yes. Yes, I remember her. She was with the woman you asked us about yesterday evening. Sitting at a table with two men.”

“If you could think back carefully,” Mira urged him. “Try to visualize the bar, your position, the movements, this woman.”

“I had my back to the room the majority of the time.”

“There was a mirror behind the bar,” Eve reminded him.

“And we tend to see things that don’t really register at the time, but we can bring back.” Mira leaned forward. “I’m trained in hypnotherapy. If you’ll allow me, I might be able to help you remember.”

“Just give me a minute to think, to visualize.” When he closed his eyes, Eve exchanged a quick glance with Mira.

“I can see her at the table,” Callaway said slowly. “She and the other three. A lot of laughter, drinking, eating. But she … I see her looking around, and checking the time. Yes, she’s tracking the room, shifting in her chair.”

“As if she were nervous?” Mira asked.

“It strikes me that way. I didn’t pay attention at the time. Or I might’ve thought she was nervous to be on a kind of blind date.”

“Why do you think she was on a blind date?” Eve asked.

His eyes opened, stared into hers for a moment. “I must’ve heard her say. I honestly don’t—wait, yes, wait. She and the other woman got up. I think they must’ve gone down to the restroom. I can’t be sure, but they left the table, passed right by us at the bar. In fact, I was standing up by then, starting to leave. She bumped into me. Didn’t even apologize. I think she said something to the other woman about it being a blind date.”

“So, this woman didn’t actually know the man she was with.”

“I don’t believe so. But I had the sense the two women were friends. Good God, how could she do that to her friend, to someone who trusted her?”

“Trust is often a weapon,” Eve said. “But we’re not absolutely certain CiCi Way was a source.”