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  Leonard waved a hand at him, and Manny started taking pictures of the victim.

  “Yeah, Stevie, you just leave it up to me and my men. We’ll bring this bastard to his knees before long.”

  Delta shook her head. “Not if you insist on connecting this murder to the other.”

  Leonard sniffed and stopped writing. “Oh? Jeez, Stevie, if I would have known it was amateur detective night, I would have worn my best suit.”

  Connell faked a chuckle.

  “I may not have a badge that says I’m a detective, Leonard, but I know evidence when I see it, and this evidence doesn’t point toward my man.”

  Folding his arms, Leonard looked amused. “And tell me, Agatha Stevens, just what clues, what hard evidence lies before us that supports your half-baked theory?”

  One of the things that made Leonard a good detective was his quest for the sort of hard evidence that was nearly irrefutable in court. He would search until he found that one solid link, that one tie that would connect a suspect to the scene of the crime.

  “Take a good look around you, Leonard. My perp has a thing for ancient weaponry. We’ve already established that as one of his M.O.’s.”

  Leonard’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Been reading our reports, have you?”

  Delta shrugged the question off. “It’s not important. What is important is the fact that this guy had his head blown off with a large-caliber handgun at point-blank range; that’s not something our walking anachronism is likely to use.”

  A wicked grin slid across Leonard’s face. “How can you be so sure, Stevie? The M.O. is still the same. This sicko is killing for pleasure. Just because he decided to use a gun makes no difference. Don’t overlook the obvious.”

  “And don’t underestimate your opponent, Leonard. Whoever killed this man did so out of anger. To put a gun in someone’s face and pull the trigger takes a great deal of hostility.”

  “Yeah? So? Our psycho is one angry shitbag. Don’t get caught up in all that ancient weaponry crap, Stevie. Look, I’ll tell you one thing about his psychological profile, and that’s that this guy likes to kill. He’s enjoying the game. Maybe he really enjoyed blowing this guy’s face off.”

  Delta didn’t think so. If the guy that threw the star at her was enjoying the game, what pleasure would he receive from simply pulling the trigger? It simply didn’t fit.

  Leonard stepped over to Delta and reached up to put an arm around her. “You’re trying to attach a thinking personality to this kook. You’ll never make detective like that. You have to look at the evidence you’ve been given, Stevie. You can’t work on just hunches alone, and that’s all you have here, a hunch. Trust me. Until I learn otherwise, this killer is the same guy who offed that pharmacist. Period.”

  Delta shrugged. “If you link this killing to the others, I guarantee it’s going to take longer to find both murderers.”

  “Place a wager on that thought, Stevie?”

  Delta shook Leonard’s outstretched hand. “What’ll it be?”

  A sly smile spread across Leonard’s face. “Your Mickey Mantle card for my Don Drysdale.”

  Delta shook her head. In the Academy, Leonard had overheard her conversation with one of the guys about her collection of baseball cards. He had approached her about buying her Mantel card then, but she had flatly refused. This time she said, “No way. My Mantel for your Mays and Rose cards.”

  Leonard thought about it for a minute. “You’re on.” Squeezing Delta’s hand in his, Leonard grinned widely. “I’ve been wanting that Mantel card ever since I heard you had one. This one is going to be a sweet victory.”

  Delta smiled. “Not if you continue the investigation the way you’re going. Kiss your Mays and Rose cards farewell, Leonard.” Turning away, Delta said her goodbyes to the crime unit and joined Jan out by the patrol car.

  “Okay, I see your point. He’s a bit on the gross side, but I don’t think that’s why you dislike him so much.”

  Delta cast Jan a questioning look. “No? Then why?”

  Jan grinned. “You can’t stand him because he’s got a crush on you.”

  “A crush? You’ve got to be kidding.” Delta pretended to gag.

  “Delta, don’t you see how he looks at you? How he has a little pet name for you? He even took a chance and put his stubby little arm around you. I’m telling you, Leonard has the hots for you.”

  Delta shuddered. “What a disgusting thought.”

  “Maybe, but it’s true. Trust me. As a straight woman, I can safely tell you that Detective Russ Leonard has a crush on you.”

  “Well, he just better keep his crushes to himself.” Starting the engine, Delta made a mental note to have Connie get the rest of the psych profile Leonard referred to in the apartment.

  “Del?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sounded awfully sure of your theory in there. Is there something you need to tell me?”

  Delta tried pushing the feelings in her gut away, but they lingered like a bad odor. Something about this case seemed to have a mysterious hold on her. Her intuition sounded various alarms, and she had the oddest feeling that the killer was watching them, sizing up every move they made. It felt as if someone was standing behind her, testing her, seeing how she reacted.

  “It’s just a gut thing. I can’t really explain. About the only thing I know with any assurance is that someone who throws Chinese stars at pursuing cops wouldn’t be so unimaginative as to use a handgun. Our perp has a different motive.”

  “So you think this murder is totally unrelated to the one at Troy’s?”

  Delta nodded. “Our corpse back there had no wallet on him. He was having, or attempting to have, a drink with someone prior to being shot. I’m willing to bet he knew his killer. I don’t believe Friedman knew his. Besides that, Friedman was stabbed, that guy back there was shot. Serial killers, if that’s what we have, tend to use the same method when killing.”

  “That’s pretty slim evidence.”

  “I know. But for now, it’s the best I can do.”

  “Well, you’ll never convince Leonard unless you have--”

  “Cold, hard facts. I know.”

  “And since you don’t have any yet, I wish you’d let it rest. We’ve got enough to worry about without you chasing ghosts.”

  Chasing ghosts? Delta felt as if she was chasing shadows—shadows that were looming over her like clouds covering the moon. No, there was something more to this case than anyone had uncovered yet.

  But Leonard was right about one thing.

  Hunches weren’t enough. If Delta was going to get this psycho off her beat, she’d have to have evidence—she’d have to put the pieces together and catch him before he killed again.

  Because one thing she was sure of. He would kill again.

  When the shift was over, Delta sauntered over to Connie’s desk and plopped down next to her as she had done practically every work night for the last three years. “Did you get them?”

  Connie nodded.

  “Excellent. You got everything?”

  “Well, not exactly. There’s a lock on one of the files that keeps me from downloading the data, but girl, do I have some interesting information for you.”

  Delta scooted closer. She so loved when Connie got the goods. “Go on.”

  Turning the monitor off, Connie faced Delta. “The dog was poisoned by some chemical compound unfamiliar to the coroner or the M.E. According to the report, the tech guys spent eight hours searching through medical journals trying to find out just what it was.”

  “And?”

  “And the coroner couldn’t place it because it’s an extremely old compound not listed in any modern journals.”

  Delta knew where this was heading.

  “The compound found was a substance and a mixture used well before the Middle Ages by alchemists.”

  “No kidding?”

  “The compound took awhile longer to unravel because of the interaction of the chemicals
. Once the coroner separated them, he looked into possible origins of the compound.”

  “And he came up with chemicals used a long time ago.”

  “Yep.”

  Delta’s eyes lit up. “Excellent!”

  “Hold your camels, mon amie, that’s not all. The report lists the dagger as an artifact from the fifth or sixth century. They had some experts take a look at it. Apparently, it’s from an island off the Greek coast, and, get this, the gems on the handle are real.”

  “No way.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were kicked out of the scouts.”

  “Okay, blood oath and you can have my firstborn. Our murderer left behind jewels worth over a hundred thousand dollars.”

  Delta leaned back and shook her head. “You’re telling me he left a dagger worth a hundred thousand dollars in the back of a dead man?”

  “Yep.”

  “Whoa. Why wouldn’t he take it?”

  Connie shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it all night. I think he wants us to know about his little penchant for old things. Maybe he’s trying to throw us off track. Perhaps he has things on his mind other than murder or money.”

  Delta nodded. “Well, money certainly isn’t a motive or even an issue if he left something that valuable. Assuming, of course, he was aware of its value.”

  “True. And I doubt the perp would have left something that valuable in the back of someone he hated. That doesn’t fit the profile.”

  “Right. So, if money isn’t the motive, then what?”

  “What do we have left? Love, revenge, passionate outbreaks, things of that nature. Something more emotional than physical.”

  Delta rubbed her hands together. “Excellent! Damn, you’re good.”

  Connie grinned. “Well, that’s what Gina says. I’m having Eddie check past unsolveds to see if there are any other weird murders where ancient weaponry was used. It may prove nothing, but it’s worth a try.”

  Delta patted Connie on the back. “Good work. And the psych profile?”

  “Should have it soon.”

  Delta rose and clapped her hands together. “All right! Con, I owe you.”

  “Yes, you do. Megan called and said she enjoyed the visit and wants you not to tarry on your way home. She mentioned something about `just bells’.” A sly grin crept across Connie’s face.

  “Say no more.”

  With that, Delta headed out the door.

  Delta answered the phone on the first ring. “Did you get it?”

  “It took some doing, but Eddie and I were able to slip in the back door of the system. When will cops ever learn how to lock computer files?”

  “Would it make any difference to you?” Delta poured herself a cup of coffee and picked up the note Megan left for her. “Hang on a minute, Con. I’m reading a note from Megan.” Reading the little love letter that had been slipped under her coffee mug warmed Delta to the core. Last night had been a wonderful evening for them. Finishing the note, Delta sighed. If only their relationship could always be so good.

  “Have a nice night?” Connie asked.

  “Remember…just bells’?”

  “Mmm. Sounds like it was better than good.”

  Delta grinned. “Bingo. Now, what have you got for me?”

  “Nothing quite as enticing, I can assure you, but it’s pretty interesting stuff. Got a pen ready?”

  Delta picked up the purple pen Megan had written the note with. “Shoot.”

  “I just had enough time to get the highlights, so if this appears brief, you know why. There’s more, but I figured you’d want only the major details.”

  “Right.”

  “The psych report indicates that we’re dealing with a very insecure man of about forty years old. He has had some abuse in his life, possibly from his father or someone else in his family. He may have been in love with his mother or someone who he highly respected and felt emasculated by that woman.”

  Delta sipped her coffee. “God, however do they come up with this shit?” Delta wrote the word `emotion’ on the paper and circled it. “Go ahead.”

  “He has an IQ of around 130 or 140, and has attended college. He isn’t from around here but knows someone who is and may be staying with them. He is an only child, probably molested little girls when he was younger or tortured small animals.”

  “And what kind of underwear does he wear?” Delta quipped.

  “Briefs. Anyway, they say it’s possible our guy’s a martial arts instructor or may even be from the Orient. He’s single, has few friends, and is well-traveled.”

  “And why is he killing and stealing weird things?”

  “The shrinks think he’s trying to punish someone, and this is his way of acting out his superiority complex. According to them, he’ll continue on his little crime spree until he’s caught.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that `he wants to get caught' line. They say that about everybody.”

  “On the contrary, Del. According to them, he doesn’t want to be caught. He wants to be superior. The report says he is angry enough to both stab someone and shoot someone in the face. The report also says he is possibly impotent. Maiming makes him feel more powerful and secure. The crimes are his way of excelling. Weird, huh?”

  “Very.” Delta looked at her pad and circled a few more words. “So Leonard will be checking out all of the martial arts studios.”

  “Most likely.”

  “But he’s not from around here. That lead’s a dead end.”

  “He’ll check it anyway.”

  “What’s your best guess on how to approach it?”

  “The weapons. I’ll bet they’re not that hard to track down. The problem lies in whether or not he’s purchased them here in the States or abroad.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s about it for now. We’ll just have to see what Leonard and his men come up with.”

  Delta finished her coffee and set the mug in the sink. “Why does that worry me?”

  “Because he’s taking a different angle than we are. And Del, that’s not a bad idea. The more bases we all cover, the better.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Why not? Let him dig for his clues. We can take or leave those that don’t apply to our theories and then see who comes up the winner. Leonard isn’t going to jump to any conclusions, Delta. You know that.”

  “Maybe not, but the psych report supports Leonard’s theory that the two murders are related.” Delta sighed. “That’s why I hate those damned things. Sometimes they just go in circles.”

  “And sometimes they’re right on the money. Take it for what it’s worth. Like Gina says, psychiatry isn’t an exact science, so don’t expect that from psych reports.”

  “I know, I know. I guess I just wanted the report to support our idea that the murders aren’t related, that’s all.”

  “Why the vested interest?”

  “He’s attacked me, killed a dog and murdered someone on my beat. If he’s declaring war, for whatever twisted reason, then I think we should answer back, don’t you?”

  “You bet. If there’s someone out there who has no compunction about attacking a cop, then everyone needs to be more alert. Let Leonard do his thing, Del, and we’ll do ours.” Connie leaned away from the phone and yelled at one of the dogs. “On a more pleasant topic, so those were your bells I heard ringing in the night?”

  Delta smiled. “You’re a pig.”

  “Are things better, then?”

  The thought of Megan’s firm, naked body lying on top of the turquoise satin sheets made Delta’s smile grow. “They’re not any worse.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  Delta doodled for a moment before answering. “You know, Con, we love each other and we’re attracted to each other, but times like last night are so few and far between.”

  “Because?”

  “I spend too much time at work, and her life is opening up in directions she ne
ver knew existed. We’re not connecting on any level except physically.”

  “But what did that physical experience say to your heart?”

  “That we’re in love. That we want to be together, that—”

  “Then, hang with it, Del. Stop trying to find immediate answers. Let Megan experience what she needs to experience without you getting paranoid and scared.”

  “What about the other side of the problem? She thinks I work too much.”

  “You do.”

  “So, I should stop working so hard?”

  Connie chuckled. “You’ll do that only if you stop breathing. No, Delta, don’t do what doesn’t feel good or right for you, either. It’s that transitional stage you’re in. Everyone goes through it. You just have to learn how to ride the bumps.”

  Delta thought about this for a minute. “This bump feels more like a mountain.”

  “They always do. Listen, give yourself a break. Just make sure you keep the lines of communication open and talk your feelings through with her.”

  They hadn’t talked much last night. As a matter of fact, talking was the last thing on Delta’s mind. “I’ll give it my best shot. The idea of losing Megan just scares me so much.”

  “And you know what you do when you’re scared?”

  “What?”

  “You throw yourself into your work.”

  “Like I’m doing now?”

  “Bingo. Why don’t you two come over for dinner tonight and be a little sociable? It might do you both a world of good.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Until then, stop thinking about this murder case and try relaxing your brains for awhile. I swear to God, Delta Stevens, you’re as type-A as they get.”

  Delta grinned. “Is that from another psych profile?”

  “Might as well be. We’ll see you around six, okay?”

  “Six, it is. Oh, and thanks for the info.”

  After Delta hung up, she re-read Megan’s note. Life, it seemed, was just one huge puzzle. If she could find the missing pieces to the murders, she could solve the case and save others from dying. If she could fit the pieces of her job and her relationship together, she could save herself and Megan from any more heartache.