Read Double Vision for Free Online

them.”
    â€œThat’s another difference from the Lowman’s shooting, then,” Saleda remarked.
    Porter held up a hand. “Wait, but if he’s closing their eyes to keep them from seeing him, why the pieces over the eyes? Could he hate himself so much he needs a double layer?”
    â€œDoubtful. It’s more likely he’s using the pieces as a calling card. After all, they do always point us to his motivation for the kill,” Saleda said. “The receipt for order number 333. Maitlyn O’Meara’s driver’s license, when he obviously targeted her because her license plate number was 33 3RBC. The keys on victim three.”
    Jenna’s gaze flitted to the photo Porter held of the third victim, Ainsley Nickerson. Her ex-husband had found her inside her apartment, 333J, where he’d come by after she didn’t answer his phone calls about picking up their eight-year-old daughter from her weekend visit. She’d been shot in her bathtub, and two keys were placed over her closed eyes. One was her apartment key, the other a key to her mother’s home. Both had been removed from her own key ring.
    Jenna imagined a faceless shooter bending over this woman he’d just shot thrice in the torso to ease her eyelids shut, almost as though she were sleeping. The gesture was intimate. Tender, even. The act of closing someone’s eyes after death made blue burn even brighter in Jenna’s mind.
    â€œThe pieces might be calling cards, but closing the eyes of the dead is something someone does as a gesture of reverence, of sorrow,” Jenna said. She tried to force her mind to see the crimes in the carmine shade her brain reserved for the needless, horrific acts of violence often committed by psychopaths with no driving force other than to derive shock value, but the cool blue kept creeping in and washing over it. “This guy isn’t trying to draw attention to himself or taunt us. He’s remorseful.”
    Saleda shrugged. “It could fit. If he’s schizophrenic, he wouldn’t necessarily have complete control. Maybe he realizes what he’s done after the fact.”
    â€œSo him not closing people’s eyes at the grocery store makes even less sense . . .” Porter said.
    â€œExcept the time and date still point to him as our UNSUB,” Saleda replied.
    â€œBut what would make him deviate so drastically from the current MO? Why seven people and not just one person who happened to be checking out at Lowman’s at 3:33 or whatever?” Porter asked.
    â€œGood damned question,” Jenna mumbled, taking the picture of Ainsley Nickerson from him. The redhead had two bullets in her chest, one in her right shoulder. If the shooter was facing her, that was consistent with the thinking that the Lowman’s shooter was right-handed. “If the shooter fired at Ainsley Nickerson standing about six feet away from the bathtub, he must’ve fired in rapid succession. That’s about the only way to explain the shoulder shot. Recoil. Someone military-trained—hell, even a redneck who spent every evening growing up in his backyard shooting—would probably hit closer to the same mark on all three shots, right?”
    â€œUnless he trained with a military that spends all their time playing Xbox instead of at target practice,” Porter answered.
    â€œMore evidence this guy isn’t trained. Check,” Jenna said.
    â€œSo what now?” Porter asked, looking to Saleda.
    Saleda let the folder she’d been skimming drop to the table. She removed her black frames from her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Locals still have roadblocks set up to cover a sixty-mile radius. I’ve got Irv cross-referencing the Triple Shooter’s known victims with the grocery store victims just in case we get lucky. I’m not really expecting a connection, but it’d be nice. In the meantime, Porter, you and I