Bell rolls his cuffs two turns. “But you’re not qualified to carry, and we’re not gonna be lugging these things around with us.”

“Are you licensed to carry?”

“In Texas, yeah. I’m not licensed in Wisconsin yet.” He shrugs. “Mainly I prefer to keep my gun in the truck.”

“I’m not really the kind of person who thinks guns are the best solution to a problem,” she confesses.

“That’s totally fine. Let’s just say I’m the kind of person who likes to prepare for every eventuality.” Bell turns to face her. “Emma, there’s someone out there killing kids our age. And as of today, we’re involved in the hunt to catch him.”

“But we’re not putting ourselves in the action. We’re just collecting and analyzing data.”

“Every eventuality,” Bell repeats. His voice goes quiet. “Would you have used a gun against Huxton, if you’d had one?”

She doesn’t have to think too hard about it. “Yes,” she admits.

“Just think of it as a tool, Lewis. It’s useful when you need it.”

She blows out air. “All right. Show me.”

He picks up a revolver to demonstrate. “Okay. Now, I know the bureau is starting to issue thirteens, but this is the original Smith & Wesson Model 10. It’s a basic service piece—six shot, double action, with fixed sights.” He passes it to her. “Feel the weight.”

“It’s heavy.” She’s not sure why she’s surprised.

“Yep. Revolvers need hand and arm strength to be accurate, and it’s usually good to be accurate. Now aim it toward the target and dry-fire it a few times to get the feel of it.”

He shows her the Weaver stance, how to aim, how to position. The gun is so terribly heavy, and there’s a dread in the pit of Emma’s stomach with a similar weight. Every time they looked at the pages in the case file, she felt a knot inside herself tighten.

The Gutmunsson link is impossible to avoid thinking about. She wonders what Simon Gutmunsson is doing right now. Probably reading a book full of terrible Byronic poetry.

“Cooper will want you to go back.” Bell’s leaning his shoulders against the stall as he watches her. And practicing his mind reading, apparently. “Now that he knows Gutmunsson will talk to you, he’ll send you back for sure. Especially if the killer’s next victims show up with their hair cut off.”

Emma keeps her focus on the paper target twenty yards away. “What happened to ‘There’s still time to catch him’?”

Bell steps closer and corrects her support hand, steps back. “That’s what I’d like to see happen. But I’m also a realist. And if any of this information Gutmunsson has given you hits the jackpot, Cooper will have you back at St. Elizabeths faster than you can say ‘teenage sociopath.’”

Emma braces her knees. “If I need to go back, I’ll go back.”

“Have you thought about how you’ll deal with Gutmunsson?” He pauses. “I could maybe figure out a way to make myself go in there—”