Page 90 of Lost and Found

“I guess I’m the only one not dressed for the day,” Wes said.

Matt glanced at Wes’s sweatpants and T-shirt. “Those look like daytime clothes.”

“They’re hang-around-the-house clothes. Not see-your-boss clothes.”

“My mom’s her own boss.”

“Your mom is incredible,” Wes added.

Her heart fluttered.

Matt pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eye. “I think so too.”

It fluttered again. “You two make me feel so good.” She kissed the top of Matt’s head. “You need to go brush your teeth.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a few,” Wes said, but didn’t leave. His attention stayed locked on the whiteboard, his forehead furrowed.

“Go brush, Matty.” She moved to Wes’s side. “What is it?”

He walked to the whiteboard. “You know what I didn’t notice before…” His head tilted, and his eyes narrowed as if he were mentally fitting jigsaw pieces into place. “Caitie was on the first. The sorority girl on March second. Bio major on March third. Apple Watch girl on May fourth. Tag Heuer on October seventh. Natalie September eleventh.” He circled the dates. “One, two, three, four, seven, eleven.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “All but Natalie were in New York City.”

“All strangled.”

She shook her head. “But in different ways.”

“And the victimology doesn’t match.” He crossed his arms. “Let me run this by Dean.” Wes pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen. “Do you have the ability to pull everyone strangled in New York City on the fifth or sixth? Yeah, of any month.” He rubbed the rough hair on his chin and cheeks. “I don’t care what year—actually, scratch that. Pull cases that happened any time after Caitie Flanagan died. All right. Yeah, that works. Thanks.”

Her heartbeat raced. “Ryan didn’t live in New York after he finished college. He certainly wasn’t a serial killer for nearly two decades before he died.”

Wes continued stroking his chin. “This is not Ryan.”

She exhaled in relief but couldn’t shake the coincidences. Like Wes, she couldn’t look away.

Matt returned. “All brushed. Hey, you didn’t change.”

Wes snapped out of the hyperfocus. “My bad, bud. I’ll be fast.”

“Are you gonna work?” Matt asked, voice tinged with worry.

“Nope. Not right now.” She took his hand and shut the door behind them. Cold shivers raced down her back. “Show me where you want to keep the Legos while we’re here.”

Matt pulled her down the stairs and rushed ahead to the corner of the living room. By the time she caught up, she’d almost been able to ignore the new hypothesis they needed to explore: Caitie had been the victim of a serial killer.

When they walked out of the house, Wes’s truck waited for them. But they loaded into the Jeep so Matt could have his seat. Wes took the driver’s seat and glanced over his shoulder as he pulled out of the driveway. “Hey, bud, do you know what stained glass is?”

“Uh-huh. It’s when the glass isn’t see-through. It has colors like a picture.”

“Exactly. My office has stained glass and turrets—”

“What’s that?”

“It’s like a house tower. My office is in a fancy old house. Just want to prepare you for something pretty cool.”

Bailey grinned, but when they pulled up the winding drive that reminded her more of the Cosgrove estate, her jaw dropped. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Wait until you see inside.”