Flash Point by Colby Marshall

blunt force trauma pre-mortem. Those blunt force wounds didn’t kill him, though. One clean, deliberate severing of his carotid did, and it was the only stab wound on his body,’ Porter explained. He traced his finger in the air away from where whatever Blunt Force UNSUB was doing was now blocked by the action of WASP UNSUB and the banker at the desk in front of him and back toward the bank entrance. ‘But watch – the next one in the door
also
heads straight for the third desk.’
    Saleda nodded, keeping her eyes on the screen as Blunt Force UNSUB walked away, and the figure who had followed Blunt Force to where Blunt Force’s victim had collapsed after a severe beating stepped in, bent down behind the third desk.
    â€˜So … the other victim who had pre-mortem blunt force wounds. What was his cause of death?’ Teva asked.
    â€˜What can I say?’ Porter said. ‘There must’ve been a two-for-one coupon for the relentless beating, severed carotid special.’
    Puce flashed in. Synchronicity.
    â€˜Well, fast-forward it to the other victim that matched that MO. Maybe from another angle, we can make out what Blunt Force’s blunt object is,’ Dodd said.
    â€˜And what the hell his creepy Wing Man did to the victim behind that desk after Blunt Force got bored with him,’ Teva said.
    Saleda pressed play, and the footage started right where they’d left off. While Wing Man UNSUB was apparently finishing off the guy behind the desk, Blunt Force UNSUB rushed in the opposite direction and, in seconds, attacked a graying man in camouflage pants and a rebel flag T-shirt. This time, even though Blunt Force UNSUB’s back was to the camera as he savagely beat the man until he crumpled to the ground in front of the teller counter, unable to move, it was easy to tell Blunt Force UNSUB’s weapon wasn’t anything you’d expect.
    â€˜Is that a whip?’ Teva asked, leaning closer to the screen as if that inch would make the granulated video suddenly crystal clear.
    â€˜No lashes on the victim,’ Jenna muttered, both in answer to Teva as well as to herself.
What is he using?
    â€˜It’s … it looks like a cane or something. Size-wise. But not the way it bends,’ Teva said.
    Jenna flinched. ‘It’s a riding crop, I think.’
    Dodd looked skeptical. ‘Riding crop? Causing blunt trauma? Doubt it.’
    â€˜You’re telling me in a room full of investigators not one of you is a Sherlock Holmes fan?’
    Every head turned toward the door – toward the new voice – but Jenna already knew who it was. She wasn’t sure
how
she’d gotten inside Quantico and made it to the door to ridicule them, nor how she was now here when Irv had already said he hadn’t found her. And yet, the creamy vanilla color Jenna associated with her flashed in at the first hint of her voice, and she was sure of the face she’d see when she turned toward the doorway.
    Sure enough, Grey Hechinger stood framed there, her pasty-pale white skin practically glowing in the fluorescent lights, the cascade of frizzy curls so blonde they were colorless pulled in a messy ponytail at the base of her neck.
    But Grey didn’t give Jenna the opportunity to introduce her, because as always, normal rules of social interaction didn’t occur to Grey. They wouldn’t. Ever. What would occur to her would be whatever she found most interesting. It was one of many reasons she had such trouble in social settings and appearing normal in any way.
    The other reason being she was schizotypal.
    Grey laughed, her head lolling back with a cheery, amused expression crossing her face. ‘You already know they’re calling themselves by book character names, and that this guy works with a partner. Surely you must have realized when you saw the riding crop that the guy holding it has to be Sherlock Holmes, and his surgically precise companion, very