“I hope so, because I expect you”—she jabbed a finger in his direction—“you and every man on the force here and in Baton Rouge to find Zoe and Chloe Denning before it’s too late!” She flung a business card onto the desk, hooked the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and then motioned to the papers still in his hands. “Those are your copies.” She turned, giving Montoya the once-over as he stepped out of the way. “I’ve got my own. If you need to get in touch with me, my cell’s listed on my card.” With that she left, striding out of his office as quickly as she’d stepped inside moments before.

As Olivia had years ago. Olivia, too, had been spouting outrageous ideas as well, theories he’d disputed but had proved true. On first meeting Olivia Benchet, he’d thought her a bona-fide nut job and tried to dismiss her. So, who was to say that Brianna Hayward was wrong? Hell, was it possible the LAPD had made a mistake? That the 21 Killer was still at large? And here, in New Orleans. Nah, that was crazy. Right? The evidence, though circumstantial, had been sufficient to sway a jury to convict the brother of Delta and Diana Caldwell for their murders.

His jaw slid to the side and he didn’t like where his thoughts were carrying him.

“What the hell was that all about?” Montoya craned his neck to peer out the doorway and watch her leave.

Bentz reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a near-empty bottle of antacids with his free hand. “Something I’ve got to look into.” He popped the pills, jammed the cap back onto the bottle, and pushed back his chair. As he stood, he stole a glance at his computer screen and noted the leering image of Father John freeze-framed in the security video from the prison.

Great, he thought.

It looked like two of his most difficult cases, both of which he’d thought were closed and nailed shut, had suddenly reopened to converge at this point in time.

What were the chances?

And why had the 21 Killer or a copycat struck right here in Louisiana? “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Montoya asked.

Bentz grabbed his jacket from the hall tree in the corner. “Probably on our next wild-goose chase.”

Zoe opened a bleary eye.