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want to drag your mentor away from his work."

Reis winced automatically, and his partner chuckled again, then he killed the engine.

"Dr. Fell?" he called, exiting his car and spotting a man that might match the Sheriff's description.

The man turned, and his eyes widened slowly as he took them in, but he nodded. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"I'm agent Reis. This is my partner agent Boone. We would like to speak with you if you have a moment?"

Dr. Fell took in their suits again then sighed, and gestured to the house. "Sure. Come on in."

Reis resisted the urge to exchange a look of raised eyebrows with Boone and instead thanked the man, and they followed him up steps and into the little house.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" he asked as he waved them into a sitting room so crammed with books it looked like a storage space for a bookstore.

"Water, please," said Gaby, unbuttoning and removing her suit jacket entirely.

Dr. Fell chuckled, but unlike most, didn't even glance at Gaby's lithe figure. "I'll bet. Those suits are no good for an Arizona summer. You'll be slow-roasted and ready to eat by sundown."

He left the room, and Reis took the opportunity to look around again. The multitude of books, covering everything from fantasy to the proper procedures for an autopsy of drowned victims, were perched haphazardly on every surface. On the mantelpiece were the usual family photos and another, of a much younger Dr. Fell, surrounded by four girls, one of whom had the strange jade eyes of Rosa Kay. He had his arm around her shoulders, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

He came back into the room then, carrying a tray with three glasses and a large glass jug filled with water and ice cubes.

"Please sit and help yourselves," he said, suiting his own words and taking a very well-worn armchair, leaving the two-seater sofa for them.

Gaby poured herself a glass, took a long draught and sat. Reis came and sat more slowly, eyes still trying to spot anything out of the ordinary.

"I don't know if Sheriff Hardy has had an opportunity to update you," Reis began, finally sitting. Unable to resist the allure of the cold drink, he poured one for himself.

"He texted me," Dr. Fell said. "Told me you'd taken over the case."

Reis gave a curt nod and pulled out a recorder. "As this is an official investigation, I would like to record our conversation."

"Of course."

Reis clicked the recorder on. "Agents Boone and Reis, Naco investigation. Can you please confirm your identity?"

"Dr. Mark Fell of Naco, Arizona."

"We understand that this is not the first such murder?"

Mark tensed, but his voice stayed smooth. "No. There was another body, buried in the same way and location, found twelve years ago."

"You are referring to the murder of Henry Kay?"

Mark's eyes flashed to the photo Reis held up and nodded. "Yes. Though I was not the coroner then. I had only just begun my medical training."

"Of course. However, I believe you requested the Kay file when you became coroner?"

Mark kept his eyes on his hand, where it had tensed on his glass of water. "I did."

Reis hid a smile, hearing the waver in the man's voice. "Have you found any similarities between the two murders, other than the method and location of the burial?"

Mark Fell raised his eyes and met Reis's, his initial friendly manner entirely gone. They were harder and calmer than he had expected, and for a moment, Reis wondered if the man would answer.

"Both were males in their late forties," Fell began, his voice clinical and lacking any inflection or emotion. "Both were carefully beaten before their death, in a way meant to cause pain, but not unconsciousness or death. Both were killed by a single stab wound, delivered from beneath the sternum, directly into the heart. The stab radius and depth suggest the same weapon was used."

"Were there any differences?" Reis asked, matching the other man's tone.

"Other than their different ethnic backgrounds, there is one other difference. Henry Kay had the letter 'T' carved into his chest, before his death."

"'T' any idea what it might stand for?"

Dr. Fell gave him a long-suffering look, then spoke. "Most traditionally, the letter 'T' carved into a body stands for 'traitor.'"

"So you think the motive behind the murders was different? That this is just a copy-cat kill?"

Fell's eyes narrowed. "How could it not be if the first murder is still behind bars."

7

She didn't know what she was doing here. The gates to the Turquoise Valley golf course were shut, as expected at four in the morning. Yet Rosa still stood there, looking out over the grass and little man-made hills and lakes.

The return of her nightmares had not been unexpected, but these daytime flashbacks were something else entirely. Even now, she did not really see the empty golf course, but a nightmare world, lit by flashing police lights. Her father's body had been wheeled past where she stood now, but in her mind, she was fifteen again, screaming and crying as Mark Fell held her back. Lucia wasn't with them. She was running through the town, trying to find their mother, who had vanished without a trace. Camelia had been sitting on the dusty ground, staring at everything with eyes so wide they reflected the horror back again.

She could still feel the bite of the winter winds, here the Sheriff asking his questions, telling people to stay back. She remembered the smells too. Dust and

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