Sense of Evil by Kay Hooper Page B

manual.”
    “Ah. Learn anything interesting?”
    “Nothing helpful.”
    “That wasn’t what I asked.”
    “That’s what I answered.”
    “Do you two do parties?” Isabel asked.
    Rafe sighed. “Sorry.”
    “Oh, don’t apologize. In a case like this one, I’d much rather laugh when I can. The chuckles tend to be few and far between.”
    Mallory said, “We’ve already had a few moments of gallows humor here and there. And I have a feeling this dominatrix stuff is going to provide a few more. Hard to take it seriously, you know? I mean, hard to imagine somebody you knew dressing up and making another woman lick her foot. What’s
that
about?”
    “In this context, a need to be in control and a high level of insecurity. Or, at least, that’s my reading of Jamie Brower.”
    “Your psychic reading?” Rafe asked.
    “From what I picked up at her parents’ home and from Emily, yeah. Also a fair psychological stab in the dark. I’d like to check out her apartment, though, and try to get a better sense of her.”
    “I’d rather do that than keep staring at these damned pictures,” Rafe said frankly. “I’d also rather not post them on the board, if it’s all the same to you.”
    Knowing that virtually every cop in the place had access to the conference room and the boards set up with victim information, Isabel agreed with a nod. “We’ll keep them in the Eyes Only file.”
    “We have one of those?” Mallory asked.
    “We do now. I have a feeling there’ll be more stuff for it as we go along, but for now I’d just as soon keep these photos and Jamie’s secret between us. If this particular avenue of pursuit turns out to be a dead end, I don’t see any reason for us to be the ones to out Jamie. Especially posthumously.”
    “Emily will probably take care of that,” Mallory said.
    “Or,” Isabel said, “she’ll keep it to herself and feel superior knowing her sister’s dirty little secret. Could go either way, I’d say.”
    Mallory said, “You suggested to me that Emily might have caught the attention of her sister’s killer; how serious were you about that?”
    Isabel leaned back in her chair, absently rubbing the nape of her neck. “I don’t have anything concrete, no evidence to support it. Not even a clairvoyant sense, really. Emily just barely fits the victim profile; she’s blond, but on the young side for our killer. Not especially successful in any career, since she’s still in school, but she’s smart and observant.”
    “But?” Rafe said.
    “It’s just . . . a feeling I got in that house. Emily was actively snooping in Jamie’s life during the weeks before she was killed, and we can be reasonably sure that during that period our killer was involved in Jamie’s life, that he crossed her path. Which means he probably crossed Emily’s path as well.”
    “And maybe she noticed him,” Rafe said.
    “Maybe. It’s just a theory, but . . . it might not be such a bad idea to have your people keep an eye on Emily, at least when she’s out of the house.”
    “Done. I’ll assign a patrol. Plainclothes or uniformed?”
    Isabel debated silently for a moment. “Let’s not try to be subtle. Uniformed. Tell them to be casual but stay alert. If nothing else, focusing on the family member of a victim may lead the killer to think we’re on the wrong track.”
    “Or on the right one,” Mallory murmured.
    “If he is after her, yeah. And, if so, a police escort may cause him to think twice. Worth the risk, I think.”
    Rafe nodded. “I agree. I’ll assign the patrol on our way out and then go with you to check out Jamie’s apartment. Mal, Hollis is at Tricia Kane’s office; why don’t you go over Jamie’s office one more time? Just to make sure.”
    “Her boss is already pissed that we’ve taped the door to her office so none of his other agents can use it. Can I release it to him if I don’t find anything this time?”
    “Yeah, might as well. Unless the FBI has an