โYou need nine, because thatโs the way this is done. Those are the rules.ย My understanding of the Vegas UNSUB shifted.ย There is an order. Youโre following it.โ
But being a follower isnโt enough.
The numbers on the wrists, the Fibonacci spiralโnone of that was present in any of the other cases Sloane had pulled. Each of the cases in front of us had employed one of seven methods.
Youโre going to do it all.
โWhere are we in the cycle?โ I asked. โIs our current UNSUB part of it, or does he break it?โ
โLast case was two and a half years ago,โ Sloane said. โThree years before that, we have the Nightshade case.โ
Six years in May,ย I thought.
โSo the UNSUB is early,โ I said. โUnless you go based on calendar year, and thenโtechnicallyโit fits the pattern.โ
Alexandra Ruiz had died after midnight on New Yearโs Eve.ย January first. A date for beginnings. A date for resolutions.
โIf we assume the UNSUB started at the beginning of the established cycle,โ Dean said, โthen that cycle starts with drowning.โ
The most recent set of nine victims had been drowned.
โThis isnโt a culmination,โ I translated. โItโs not a grand finale. If it were, it would have happened before they started the cycle over.โ
They.ย The word settled over me and refused to leave. โWhoโs doing this?โ I asked, looking down at the pictures. โWhy?โ
Hundreds of victims killed over decades. Different killers. Different methods.
โTheyโre doing it because someone told them to.โ Lia managed to sound utterly bored, but she couldnโt look away from the pictures splayed out on the floor. โTheyโre doing it because they believe this is how it has to be done.โ
When I was nine years old, I killed a man. I grew up in a cult.
Liaโs statements from Two Truths and a Lie came back to me, and suddenly, it occurred to me thatโper the rules of the gameโboth of those statements could be true, so long as what sheโd said about considering shaving Michaelโs head was not.
It would be just like Lia to tell outrageous truths and a joking, mundane
lie.
Once upon a time, your name was Sadie.ย Now wasnโt the time to profile
Lia, but I couldnโt stop it, any more than Sloane could have stopped looking for the Fibonacci dates.ย Someone used to give you gifts for being a good girl. You were on the streets by the time you were thirteen. Sometime before that, you learned not to trust anyone. You learned to lie.
Deanโs brown eyes settled on Lia. Their history was palpable in the air.
For a moment, it was like no one else was in the room.
โYou think weโre dealing with some kind of cult,โ Dean said. โYouโre the profiler, Dean,โ Lia responded, never looking away from
his face. โYou tell me.โ
A string of victims every three years, killed in prescriptive ways on dates dictated by the Fibonacci sequence.
There was an unquestionable element of ritual to that.
โSay we are dealing with a cult,โ Michael said, keeping his voice casual, never looking at Lia. โDoes that make our guy a member?โ
I turned the question over in my head. Lia answered it.
โCult 101,โ she said. โYou donโt talk to outsiders.โ Her voice was strangely flat. โYou donโt tell them what theyโre not blessed enough to know.โ
The numbers on the wrists. The Fibonacci spiral.ย If there was some kind of group operating behind the scenes, theyโd managed to avoid detection for more than six decadesโuntil someone had turned Sloane onto the code.
Lia didnโt need experience withย thisย cult to see meaning in that. โIโm going to go play some poker.โ She stood up, shedding her previous affect as easily as someone stepping out of a dress. โIf you try to stop me,โ she said with a smile that looked so real, I almost believed it, โif you try to come with me, I will make you regret it.โ She flounced to the door. Dean started to stand, and she gave him a look. A silent conversation passed between them.
She loved him, but right now, she didnโt want him. She didnโt want anyone.
Lia rarely showed us her true self. But what weโd just seen was more than that. The flat voice, the words sheโd saidโthat wasnโt just the real Lia. That was the girl sheโd spent years running from.
That wasย Sadie.
โParting gift,โ Lia said on her way out, twirling a finger through her jet- black hair, no sign of that girl in her now, โfor those of you who might be a little slow on the uptake. Whoever our killer is, Iโd bet a lot of money that heโs not a part of this group. If he were, the cult would be monitoring him. And if they were monitoring him and they found out that heโd shared even one of their secrets?โ Lia shrugged, the very picture of careless indifference. โHe wouldnโt be our problem. Heโd already be dead.โ
YOU
You step out into the fresh air. Inside, youโre smiling. Outside, you show a different face to the world. People have their expectations, after all, and you would hate to disappoint.
Drowning, fire, the old man impaled on the arrow, strangling Camille. The knife is next.
Then beating a man to death with your bare hands. Poison will be easy. Eloquent.
And then the last twoโdealerโs choice. There should be nine ways. If you were in charge, there would be.
Three times three times three.
Nine is the number of victims. Three is the number of years between. Nine seats at the table.
You pause at the doors to the Desert Rose. Not your preferred hunting grounds, of course. But a fine place to visit. A fine place to look at what you have made.
A fine place to anoint number five.
Everything is going according to plan. Word of your kills is spreading. You know they monitor others with similar proclivities. Looking for talent. For threats.
The Masters will finally see you for what you really are. What you have become.