“He has the same motive you’ve given Dr. Anders,” I said. “Getting rid of the competition. Maybe he offered them a job, and when they refused, he killed them? It would fit in with Sara Jane’s missing boyfriend.” Not to mention what he did to me.

Creases appeared in Edden’s forehead. “Which brings up the question as to why he would let his secretary come to the FIB.”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice rising as I became frustrated. “Maybe the two are unrelated. Maybe she lied about him knowing she came to us. Maybe the man is crazy and wants to get caught. Maybe he’s so sure we can’t find our asses in the dark that he’s thumbing his nose at us. He had them killed, Edden. I know it. He talked to them before they died. What more do you need!”

I was almost shouting. I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere with Edden, but this bureaucracy was part of the reason I had quit the I.S. And it rankled to find myself trying to “convince the boss” again. Head bowed and hand on his chin, Glenn took a step back, leaving me alone. I didn’t care.

“It’s not against the law to talk to Trent Kalamack,” Edden said, his eyes level with mine. “Half the city knows him.”

“You’re going to ignore that he talked to every one of these people?” I protested.

His face went red behind his eyeglasses. They looked too small for his round face. “I can’t accuse a councilman of phone calls and casual conversations,” he said. “That’s his job.”

My pulse quickened. “Trent killed those people,” I said softly. “And you know it.”

“What you know isn’t worth goose shit, Rachel. It’s what I can prove. And I can’t prove anything with this.” He flicked a hand at the nearest report, making it flutter.

“Then search his compound,” I demanded.

“Morgan!” Edden shouted, shocking me. “I won’t authorize a search on the evidence that he talked to the victims. I need more.”

“Then let me talk to him. I’ll get it.”

“God bless it!” he swore. “You want me fired, Rachel? Is that it? Do you know what will happen if I let you go through his compound and find nothing?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Wrong! I will have accused a well-respected man of murder. He is a councilman. A benefactor of most of the charities and hospitals on both sides of the state line. The FIB will become a foul word in human and Inderland households alike. My reputation will be shot!”

Frustrated, I stood toe-to-toe with him, able to look the man right in the eye. “I didn’t know you became an FIB officer to better your reputation.”