Breyer waves his hand in the air. “I’m not worried about what makes him what he is. I want to know if he could be our Warlock.” The question is directed at me.

I knew this was coming. “No. It’s not him.”

“Why do you say that?” asks Breyer.

I don’t have an answer other than a gut feeling. I choose my words carefully. “I’ve never known him to be capable of hurting an innocent person.”

Chisholm’s eyes light up. “Innocent? Care to clarify that?”

Damn. He pays attention to everything. “It’s an expression,” I explain. “We’re all trained to use force. But only against the bad guys. Like any man, I’m sure Damian would defend himself.” I almost add, “Or someone else,” but keep my mouth shut.

“Got it,” replies Chisholm flatly, neither agreeing nor challenging me.

Got what?

Ailes makes an attempt to change the direction of the meeting. “Whoever Damian is, assuming he hasn’t doctored the Faceplaced data, we may have some answers in a few hours about past and potential victims. Maybe even a photo of the Warlock. All thanks to his generosity, I might add.”

Breyer is still skeptical. “Assuming. That’s a big assumption from where I’m looking. Right now he looks like our biggest suspect. Blackwood, when you get a chance, I want you to sit down with one of Chisholm’s people and go over everything. I’d also like to send a forensic team to your home.”

“Yes, of course.” I don’t have a choice. “I also have a hat he left behind. But I think it’s another one of his games.”

Chisholm looks like he’s trying to decide whether to say something. “Agent Blackwood, you’ve admitted this man has fooled you before.”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s difficult to look at this objectively. But have you entertained the idea that the Warlock could be a separate personality? Maybe something he keeps locked away while he’s around you?”

A thousand times since he showed up in my apartment a few days ago. “Yes. And I know the stories about wives who never realize their husbands are serial killers. I understand all this. The difference between them and me is that they’ve been ignoring little details. Bloodstains. Late hours. Weird kinks. I look for them.”

“Look for them?” asks Chisholm.

“Ever since I saw what he was, I’ve tried to find out if he could be dangerous to me. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about that.” Or if he killed the man who attacked me . . .

34

AILES FOLLOWS ME into the hall while Chisholm stays behind to talk to Breyer. I can only imagine what little details Chisholm picked up from me that he’s now revealing to Breyer. I feel guilty for not telling them about Damian and the pimp. I know it would put the entire investigation into a different light. Damian would become their focus.

I know he’s not the Warlock. I’m positive.

I keep telling myself this. Each time I grow a little less certain.