Page 181 of Forever Dead

Foss watched her without answering.

“I thought that meant a personal grievance against the women,” Selena continued. “But you’ve described choosing Eleanor because she was accessible and Patricia because she answered your emails.”

“You’re beginning to listen.”

“The contempt was personal to you. That doesn’t mean they’d done anything to cause it. What have you got against women?”

Foss crouched several feet away. “I don’t hate women. I just enjoy it.”

“Enjoy what?”

“The moment when somebody realizes there is no version of events in which they leave.”

“That doesn’t explain what you did afterward.”

“It doesn’t have to. Why do you damned profilers and experts always have to find a reason? Can’t someone simply delight in things? And what better time to do it than at Halloween!”

He raised his hands toward the ceiling.

Halloween might mean nothing more to him than an opportunity. Selena decided to test it, making the guess sound certain.

“Something happened to you at Halloween.”

“What did?” Foss said, his grin disappearing.

“Whatever makes you hate women so much.”

For the first time, Foss’s attention moved toward the cabinet instead of staying on her.

Selena followed the glance.

“You spent years taking pieces from bodies in your care and keeping them for yourself. Now you’re arranging bodies where other people have to confront what you’ve done. The mask and the staging are connected. What you used to do in private has become something you want an audience for.”

“You prefer explanations,” he said. “A bad marriage. Rejection. An abusive parent. Some neat little injury you can put in a report.”

His mouth tightened as he mentioned the parent. Selena noticed it, but she still had no account of his childhood and no reason to trust whatever he might tell her.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, Foss.”

“I’ve had years. And it is wonderful to be finally making it happen.”

Selena eased her left heel against the floor. She could push with that leg, but he remained too far away.

“Something you keep coming back to,” she said.

“You’re still profiling me from the floor?” He let out a chuckle.

“I’m trying to understand.”

“No. You’re trying to make me fit into your discrete little FBI psychology boxes! And I won’t.”

He stood and moved toward the cabinet.

She needed him closer. Halloween and the mention of a parent had drawn reactions. Neither proved anything, but both gave her something to press.

“Does it go back to childhood?”

Foss reached for the handle.