He nods and motions to his two deputies. “I brought some manpower for you. This is Deputy Jerry Hunnaker.”

Hunnaker is slightly overweight with a cocky smirk that rubs me the wrong way. When we shake he grinds my knuckles, and I wonder if Detrick is lending me his dead weight.

The second deputy is tall and angular and looks more like a high school pole-vaulter than a cop. But his eyes are level, his expression natural and though I’ve already pegged him as inexperienced, I know he’ll be more of a help to me than the cocky shit with the grip.

“Deputy Darrel Barton.” Detrick sets his hand on the deputy’s shoulder, a proud papa introducing his favorite son.

In the few minutes I’ve spent with Detrick, the room has filled. I see Steve Ressler standing at the door and cross to him. “The press conference is at six,” I say.

“I’d like to sit in on this to see what the police are doing.”

“This is a task force meeting, Steve. Some of what we’ll be discussing is not for public consumption.”

“Or maybe you don’t want the public to know you don’t have squat on this guy.”

He looks pleased by his own audacity. I wonder how he would feel if I acted on the impulses running through me and coldcocked him. I nod toward the door. “You can voice your concerns at the press conference.”

Turning on his heel, Ressler stalks out.

I take my place at the podium and scan the group. Detrick sits at the table, flanked by his two deputies. Glock and T.J. sit opposite him, segregated by agency and loyalties. Skid and Pickles take chairs at the back of the room. Mayor Auggie Brock sits alone, looking like a new kid on the first day of school. Mona stands near the door, her arms folded at her chest. Behind her, John Tomasetti leans against the doorjamb, his overnight bag at his feet. The gang’s all here.

Pulling in a deep breath, I begin. “We are now a multi-jurisdictional task force set up by the mayor and town council.”

A hushed stir goes around the room, and I know my team is wondering why I didn’t brief them beforehand about the formation of the task force.

I fix my eyes on Auggie and continue. “We will be working in conjunction with the Holmes County Sheriff, Nathan Detrick.”

The sheriff stands briefly, then takes his seat.

“And Agent John Tomasetti with the Bureau of Criminal Identification and Investigation out of Columbus,” I say.

Heads turn. From his place at the door, the agent nods, and I can’t help but think he really does look sort of Mafia-like.

I spend the next ten minutes summarizing the details of both murders. When I finish, I cross to the dry-erase board mounted on the wall. I write the words Persons of Interest and underline it. Everyone is expecting me to write the words Slaughterhouse Killer, but I begin with another name. Scott Brower. “He was at the Brass Rail on Saturday night. A witness reported seeing him with Amanda Horner.” I relay details about his record and his arrest just that morning, then go to my next suspect.