“I’ve seen eyes gouged out, acid poured in them. I’ve seen lips cut off, objects wedged in the mouth, mouths taped shut. No superglue.”

“Okay,” Vince said and took his seat again. “I was just wondering.”

His friend at the end of the table wore the my-ass expression. Everyone else got up to go to lunch, exchanging handshakes, concerns, and pleasantries with him as they made their way to the door. With him and the boss still sitting at the table, no one bothered to ask if he was coming to lunch.

When the door had closed and they were alone, his friend let his own concern show on his face. He got up and came to Vince’s end of the table.

“You grew a mustache.”

Vince swiped a hand over the coarse steel gray, not-exactly-regulation hair decorating his upper lip. “You’re very observant. You should be a detective.”

“Makes me think you’re not really back. How are you? Really.”

“The meds make me puke up everything I eat,” he confessed. “But I hear that’s all the rage these days among the beautiful people, so . . .”

“Should you be here?”

“Where should I be? Sitting in a recliner watching the hours of my life tick away? You might as well shoot me in the head. Oh, wait, somebody already did that.”

“What’s with this case?”

“A kid I taught in the National Academy classes a year or so ago, Tony Mendez, called me at the crack of dawn with this. The crack of dawn our time. Had to be in the middle of the friggin’ night where he is. He’s pretty het up about the case. His first serial killer.”

“If that’s what it is.”

“If that’s what it is,” Vince agreed.

“Where does the kid rank on it?”

“He’s the lead detective. He works for the county sheriff.”

“The sheriff gave him the okay to bring this to us?”

Vince made a face. “Not exactly. But the kid’s going to convince him.”

“And I’m going to learn to speak Italian.”

“Bella!” Vince said, laughing.

His friend shook his head. “How you still have a sense of humor is beyond me.”

“Hey, I’m a living punch line. I got shot in the head and lived to tell about it. That’s a big joke on somebody—the perp, God, me.”

“What do you want to do with this, Vince? This case won’t even come close to the standard. And we’ve got legit cases coming in for review every day of the week. If I had twenty profilers, they’d all be up to their asses in work.”