Page 51 of So Deadly
“They call it dissociative identity disorder now,” Faith said, “and I’m not sure.I’m not a psychologist, so I don’t know how it works.But maybe there’s a Jennifer Suleiman whohaslived in that house for fourteen years.Maybe she’s timid and unsure and… well, a little slow.She can go through the motions of surviving, and she does them to excess because that’s all she really knows.But maybe there’s another side of her, and that’s the side where all her violence and grief and cunning go.I think we saw it for a second when we asked her about Princess.Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched.She started getting angry.Then it was like a switch flipped, and it all disappeared.”
“And this other identity what?Has another house where she keeps the murder weapons?”
“Yes.”
Jessica tapped the desk again, not in frustration this time.She looked away from Faith for a moment, then looked back.Her face had a patient look that Faith had last seen on the faces of her old psychologist, not West but the one who had come after him.The look said,I know this is delusional, but I have to be careful how I address it because I don’t want to make the patient upset.
“That’s a very large leap, Faith.If we’d talked to Suleiman the day after Crawford was attacked, I’d buy it, but we got to her what, two hours after he was almost killed?How does the other personality have time to clean up, ditch the evidence, and get back to Jennifer’s house to turn the reins over to her by the time we get there?”
“I know it’s unlikely, but that’s the ‘however improbable’ part.It can’t be anyone else, so ithasto be her.”
“That’s a…” Jessica took a deep breath and tried again in another tone.“That’s afictionalquote, Faith.”She tapped her finger again.“Is this about David?Are you trying to wrap this up quickly so you can go help him?”
Faith swallowed.She absolutely did want to get to David.Michael had yet to update her on his location or condition or even if he’d confirmed that he’d found the CIA records facility.Was she subconsciously fixating on Jennifer because she wanted to get this over with?
But what could she do now?At best, she could arrive in time to get in Michael’s way.At worst, her action would alert the CIA to David’s location and endanger him.
The best thing she could do for David was let Michael do the job she’d asked him to do and focus on the job she’d agreed to do.
“I want you to trust me,” she told Jessica.“I know I’m fixating on her, but it’s not because I’m worried about David.Iamworried about him, but I’m fixating on Jennifer Suleiman because some part of meknowsthat she’s our killer.I can’t articulate why yet, but I’m certain of it.My hunches have always turned up right.So please, trust me, and help me figure out how to prove it.Or how to prove that shecouldn’tbe the killer, and I really am wrong.”
Jessica looked at her for a long moment.Finally, she sighed and said, “All right.If you’re this sure, then I trust you.”
Faith slumped with relief.“Thank you.I really appreciate it.It means a lot.”She took a sip of her coffee, allowing its warmth to soothe her stressed muscles.“Okay, I think we should start by looking at everyone else involved in the death of her dog.She’s targeting owners of fake service dogs, but she also killed Webb, and he didn’t even have a dog.”
“He just sent service dog vests to fake owners,” Jessica said.
“Exactly.Pull up the records of that case again.See if you can find out who gave Alisa O’Hara her dog’s vest.”
“Fingers crossed it isn’t Webb,” Jessica said.
Faith waited, sipping more of her coffee, too high-strung to eat the breakfast she’d brought upstairs.If they came up with a new name, then they might know who the next victim was going to be.Faith didn’t want to use the potential victim as bait, but if they brought that potential target into protective custody and left a police officer as bait in the target’s home, then maybe they could catch Jennifer in the act.It was a pretty hair-brained scheme, but that didn’t make it a bad idea.
“I’ve got one,” Jessica said, surprise and excitement in her voice.“Kevin Marshall.He didn’t make the vest, but he forged a service dog certificate for Alisa O’Hara’s Rottweiler.It was good enough that the court actually believed it at first until prosecutors dug deeper and found no history of training and no record of the school named on the certificate.”
Faith leaped from her chair and pumped her fist.Turk got to his feet, tail wagging, anticipating the command.“And he still lives in the area?”
“Still lives here,” Jessica said.“Somerville, just north of Boston.”
“Call Jenkins,” Faith said.“Tell him we need officers on the scene ASAP.We need to place Marshall into protective custody and get someone to take his place.We’re going to wait for Jennifer to come looking for him.”
“We should still have eyes on her,” Jessica said, pulling her phone out.“In case she has other targets.”
She started to dial, but her phone buzzed first.Jenkins.She looked at Faith, then answered.“Jenkins.We were just about to call you.”
“Well, you’ll want to hear what I have to say first.Jennifer Suleiman isn’t home.We put an APB out on her Nissan Leaf, and it looks like she’s in Somerville.”
Faith and Jessica shared a look.Faith’s earlier excitement was gone, replaced by sharp, powerful fear.
Their killer was still one step ahead of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kevin Marshall had a damned good life.He had a nice home in a nice city, a hot girlfriend who was fine with once-weekly visits to her place in the city and nothing more serious than that, and a brand-new BMW M3 in the sexiest green he’d ever seen.He was a sucker for sports cars.This was his third BMW and his ninth sports car in the seventeen years since he’d gotten his license.
And best of all, he had just completed the last of his legal obligations related to the one mistake he’d made.As far as the government knew, he’d paid his debt to society and was a reformed and highly successful day trader.
And he was.He worked about twenty hours a week in the markets and made enough money to appear legitimate whenever anyone cared to look.The other twenty hours a week were spent on what he considered his real job to be.
