Nari gagged and quickly covered the action with a cough. The woman’s hands and heart were taken, and she’d been thrown face-first from a bridge. “Either this guy is getting angrier or he wants us to worry while she’s identified. If so, then it probably isn’t Millie. Right?”

Angus lowered his chin. “Maybe. If it is Millie, he might want to draw out the moment.” That fast, Angus was back to being the profiler and not the pissed-off friend. His eyes went cold and flat. He looked at Jethro. “Anything on the last note?”

“Yes.” Jethro closed his laptop. “Good thing I brought my own hot spot. The passage is from a seventeenth-century poem by a man named Giuseppe Legonito. He lost his family in a fire and slowly descended into madness. The poem is called The Fate of the Damned.”

Wolfe grimaced. “That’s profound. What was the passage again?”

Angus spoke before Jethro could. “‘Slivers of time make up each moment, and only the pale horse and his master prevail in the most crucial of breathy gasps.’”

Jethro nodded. “The guy isn’t exactly subtle.”

Angus dug his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “All right. Everyone keep working here. I’m going to crash the scene.”

“The body won’t be there by the time you arrive,” Nari said. Why did he have to go out in the storm like that?

“I know, but I want to examine the scene. The more information I have, the better I can profile this asshole,” Angus said. He looked at the assembled group. “For now, we go on the presumption that this wasn’t Millie, because this guy seems to have a pattern of killing people who look like members of our team. We use every resource we have to find Millie unless we get bad news from the lab.”

Nari swallowed. “If that’s his pattern, he’s hit all the women on the team. Brigid, Dana, Millie, and me.” She looked at Pippa. “Both Pippa and Serena have other jobs and don’t work for HDD. Do you think he’d find look-alikes for them, too?” She had to keep Angus in his head to keep him in control.

Thunder rolled outside. Angus prowled to the murder board tacked across the wall. “If his intention is to mess with us, it’s entirely possible. Although he’ll again turn to the real thing soon enough. I’ve already asked Tate to provide protection for Serena, even though we haven’t worked with her for a while.” He looked at the picture of his sister and then pivoted toward the door. “Regardless, he’s killed at least four women and they deserve justice. I’ll be back.”