“The tag team.”

“Yes. Most serial killers are loners who feel powerless in their everyday lives. Carrying out these types of specific, meticulously planned murders is their means of exerting control and gaining a sense of power that’s missing in everything else they do. The tag team is a different animal, especially when the partner is someone as notorious as Colby.” Griffin gazed at the list of characteristics that had been written on the board. “Assuming Colby is the dominant partner, Myatt is most likely someone who’s comfortable taking orders, perhaps ex-military. He’s extremely detail-oriented. These people tend to be obsessively focused on a very narrow range of interests.”

Kendra turned toward the agents behind her. “Kind of like you and your comic books, Metcalf.”

He shrugged. “Or you and your music therapy.”

“Point taken.” She studied the whiteboard. “I can imagine there could be an element of hero worship in Myatt, but he may also enjoy one-upping the serial killers he copies.”

Lynch nodded. “If he’s really working with Colby, what do you make of the fact that Myatt hasn’t reproduced his murders?”

“Respect,” Reade said. “He doesn’t want to insult the master.”

“Or he’s been saving it,” Kendra said. “As much as I hate the thought, what if he’s planning something even bigger?”

“We’re up against a ticking clock,” Lynch said. “The only man who might know his identity will be executed in three days.”

“Could we reach out to the governor?” Metcalf asked. “Maybe he’d agree to stay his execution until our investigation concludes.”

Griffin shook his head. “The problem is that Colby was damn cagey in his responses to us. He never came out and said he was in communication with the killer or even admitted he knew who he was. Anything he said could fall under the category of screwing with the heads of the people who brought him down.”

“Plus, the governor wants this execution to happen,” Lynch said. “His constituents have been demanding it ever since Colby put those kids’ heads on a pike. That kind of thing has a way of whipping up strong emotions. Anything we want from Eric Colby, we’d better get in the next seventy-two hours.”

Kendra felt that familiar chill. “I want nothing from him.” She nodded toward the stacks of files. “Are those the logs that the warden gave you?”

Griffin nodded.

“Anything there?”

“Nothing yet, but we’re still going through them.” He glanced at Metcalf. “We had a strange phone call a little while ago. It actually concerned you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Have you ever heard of Bobby Chatsworth?”

“No, should I have?”

“Probably not. He works in England. He’s a minor broadcast personality. I was going to say reporter, but that’s giving him too much credit. He’s been on a tear pushing to get the death penalty reinstated in the UK.”

“Really?”

“It’ll never happen, but he’s made quite a name for himself. Which was obviously the point. Anyway, he’s been doing his show from northern California to capitalize on the Colby execution. He and his team were actually at San Quentin yesterday the same time we were.” He paused. “They want to interview you.”

“Why me?” Kendra asked.

“You’re the one who captured him.”

“I beat his brains out with a rock.”

“Even better. We told them you never spoke to the press about your cases, but they claim that their investigative reporting has uncovered some information that might be helpful to us. If you consent to an interview.”

“I hope you hung up on them.”

Griffin checked his watch. “Actually … Chatsworth’s producer is in the conference room upstairs.”

“What?”

“I made no promises. I only said if they gave us what they have, I’d let them meet you and pitch you on the idea of an interview.”

Kendra glared at him. “Are you rolling out the red carpet for every nutjob who claims to have a tip? Or just the ones who want to impose themselves on me?”

“Hear her out, politely decline, and we’ll see what they have.”

Kendra looked over at Lynch.

He shrugged. “We could subpoena their materials, but I have a hunch they would refuse anyway. If this guy likes to showboat the way his reputation suggests, he’d love nothing better than to see himself as a crusading reporter caught in a U.S. First Amendment case. It would be quicker to just hear them out.”

Kendra muttered a curse. “Fine. But if I see a camera, it’s going right out the window.”

*   *   *

A FEW MINUTES LATER, Kendra joined the FBI team in the conference room where Lily Holt was seated at the table’s head with a thin binder in front of her. The woman’s choice of seating and regal posture immediately annoyed Kendra. It seemed as if she was positioning herself as the CEO, and they were her underlings.

She didn’t stand as they came into room. “Dr. Michaels, nice to meet you.”

“Please make this fast, Ms. Holt.” Kendra sat in the chair closest to her. “As you can imagine, we’re all very busy.”

“As am I,” she said.

“I have one question for you,” Kendra said. “Why on earth do you want to give Eric Colby any more attention than he’s already been given? Don’t you realize that’s exactly what he wants?”

“What Eric Colby wants has no bearing on what we do. It’s what our viewers want.”

“They want to see a diseased maniac ranting and raving with an inflated sense of self-worth?”

“No.” Lily gave her a tight-lipped smile. “They want to see him die.”

The producer’s icy demeanor left Kendra momentarily speechless.

“Trust me,” Lily continued. “We’re not putting him on a pedestal. It’s clear he’s a vile human being, and this world will be an infinitely better place once he’s not in it.”

“I heard that your show advocates the return of the death penalty in England.”

“Yes, it’s been half a century since Great Britain has executed a prisoner, yet over two-thirds of the population now favors capital punishment. Bobby Chatsworth and his show just reflect the frustration that society has with the justice system.”

“Are you sure that he’s not helping to shape it?”

“I’ll let sociologists be the judge of that. What I can say is that we’ve devoted a lot of airtime lately to people whose lives have been touched by violent crime. Citizens are outraged. They feel that the perpetrators of these horrible crimes have forfeited their right to share the planet with the rest of us.”

“Enter Eric Colby.”

“As soon as the execution date was set, we knew this was a story our viewers would have interest in. This is a system that works. Not often enough, perhaps, but the families of Eric Colby’s victims will see justice done in a way that victims in the UK never could. We’ve interviewed police officers, a retired FBI agent, and several close relatives of Colby’s victims, all in an effort to paint a portrait of the man. A portrait of a monster.”

“Then what do you want with me?”

“You witnessed the horror in the way no one else did. You saw Eric Colby murder two FBI agents. Then you survived an attack from him, the only person to do so. Not only did you survive, you were the one to finally bring him down. Your story will always be intertwined with his, Dr. Michaels.”

“You’ll never be done with me, Kendra…”

Colby’s words. Colby’s voice echoing in her head.

Again.

Shake it off. He would soon be a memory, no more than a bad dream.

“I have no interest in helping you perpetuate his memory.”

“Don’t think of it that way. Think of it as having the last word on Eric Colby.”

“His actions speak for themselves. And nothing will speak louder than his dying in front of a roomful of witnesses.”

“Bobby Chatsworth begs to differ. We saw you leaving the prison yesterday. What did you and Colby say to each other?”

“I’m not going to discuss it. Not now, not ever.”