“What does the profiler in you say right now about the killer?”

Oddly, while I couldn’t answer that question for Houston, some pieces of the puzzle flow from me now. “He’s not easily challenged. He’s bored easily. He most likely plays that online game and wins every time and easily. He’s probably wealthy and highly educated.”

“Well, those two things describe this entire city. I’m back to why did he want your attention? You, Lilah.”

“I’m the challenge.”

“But why you? It feels personal. The wedding dress. The blood.”

“I told you. The Umbrella Man case grabbed his attention. My role in that case declared me the one who might challenge him. The blood was in the news. The wedding was most likely blabbed about by Samantha, and don’t tell me you didn’t tell her. Once she knows something, the entire town knows.”

“You had to make this another kind of personal, didn’t you?”

“Bottom line, I believe there’s a lot of intentional distraction going on. As long as we hyper-focus on this being about me, we’re not seeing something else. We need to work the case.”

“But you said we’re doing what the killer expects.”

“And we are, but we’ve also got two dead ex-husbands or would-be ex-husbands. Naomi and Emma are both widows, but Emma also lost a husband and a brother. If Naomi was still married to Emma’s brother. That is something we need to confirm with records. And I’d bet my last bag of Cheetos that they’re all part of that damn game.”

His cellphone beeps. “Hold on,” he says, and I assume he glances at the number before he says, “I need to call you back.” And because what else do I expect from my brother? He hangs up without another word. But whatever.

I text Tic Tac a list of things I need him to handle, exchanging random messages with him. Just as we finally wrap up, my cellphone rings. I glance at the caller ID and grimace before I answer with a greeting of, “Director Murphy.”

“Agent Love. I hear you had a visitor last night.”

“With no fallout aside from the brutal injustice of mac ‘n’ cheese thrown away in the trash.”

“And?” he asks curtly.

I sigh inwardly and update him with everything in as condensed a fashion as is possible. I end with, “I need to force that game to disclose its members. I need that now.”

“With two murders, I believe I can make that happen in the next twenty-four hours. Where are we on our friend’s involvement?”

Friend. I’m so sick of him calling Pocher friend. “Can we come up with a different nickname like ‘the dirty dog,’ or I can compromise and go with ‘the dog.’ I like the dog.”

“All right. Where are we on the dog’s involvement?”