He felt the chill of déjà vu run through his bones. Hadn’t another woman, one he thought might be a lunatic, come raging into this very office years ago? Swearing she could “see” the crimes of a killer, she’d ranted in front of his desk. Hadn’t he scoffed at her, written her off as a nut job, and then eventually become swayed that she knew something? That woman, Olivia Benchet, was now his wife.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Hayward, if you’re right, those girls are most likely already dead,” he said, deciding that there was no way to sugarcoat the truth. “According to you, the exact time each twin turned twenty-one has already past.”

She winced as if in pain.

“21 is precise. So let’s hope you’re wrong.”

A knot appeared in her jaw and her fingers stretched and curled on the arms of the chair. “All the more reason not to waste any time.” Frustration yanked her eyebrows together and she appeared to lose what little control she’d had. “The way I see it, Detective Bentz, a homicidal maniac is walking around free because your partner and Bledsoe arrested the wrong man and trumped up their case against him. Not only is the wrong man serving time in a hellhole of a prison, but the real killer is at large.” She was angry now, at the end of her rope, and she wasn’t holding back. “Any other victims who die at his hand, including Garrett and Gavin Reeves, Beau and Belle January, and now probably Chloe and Zoe Denning, will be dead due to police negligence. I was hoping you would be different from the other detectives I talked to, that you might actually give a damn since you’re some sort of hero cop around here.”

“I’m no hero—”

“I’ve read about the cases you’ve solved, how you’ve put your life on the line, nearly got killed a while back. But maybe they’ve got it all wrong about you here in New Orleans. Maybe that bad shooting, the incident in LA that has been conveniently swept under the rug, is what you’re really made of.” Her color was high now, her ire palpable. “I was hoping that you would actually give a damn about the 21 Killer, the fact that the wrong man is in prison and that twins have been kidnapped. I thought you would care, Detective, but I guess I was wrong!”

“Hey,” Montoya said, suddenly filling the doorway and taking in the scene. “Is there a problem here?”

Bentz scowled as he glanced at his partner. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Then do something!” Brianna said.

“Whoa!” Montoya was inside Bentz’s small office in an instant. He was bristling, his shoulder muscles bunching under his shirt.

Bentz lifted a hand to silently calm his partner. “I’ve got this.”