Blinking, Somers rubbed his jaw.

“And he’s got a tight window to do it,” Dulac said. “At the very earliest, she’s dead by ten. That barely gives him two hours to transport the body, making sure nobody sees him and nobody follows him, and then to stage Susan like this. That’s not a lot of time, bro. He’s doing this for a reason, picked this place for a reason.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Somers said slowly. “It’s a good point—”

“It’s a fucking badass point. It’s a fucking Emery-Hazard-level fucktastic point.”

“—but serial killers, even they don’t always understand their rituals. He might not have been making a conscious choice.”

“But we need to check,” Dulac said.

“But we need to check,” Somers said. “I’d also like to get a look at Susan’s apartment. And talk to neighbors, coworkers, anybody who might have noticed something unusual in her life.”

“Dude, you’re ancient. Your brain is slipping. We’ve got to start with Wesley, right? I mean, if anything had been going on with Susan, he would know.”

Somers’s eyes cut toward the door to the interview room.

“I’m going to let you slide, bro, because you were up all night and your fuck-old body can’t keep up.”

Somers shook his head and began gathering up the photographs.

“What?” Dulac said.

“What do you think?”

“Dude,” Dulac said, his eyes dragged toward the interview room. “No way.”

“He’s the romantic partner. You know they’re always the first place we start.”

“Yeah, but, he’s like . . . Wesley.”

“They picked him up first thing. Riggle went at him pretty hard until he asked for a lawyer.”

“Riggle’s an asshole,” Dulac said.

“I thought he was your new silver-fox daddy.”

“He’s a total asshole. If he honestly thinks Wesley could—”

“He does think that. And I don’t blame him, not entirely. Wesley’s history isn’t exactly spotless, ok? Drug abuse, living on the street, mental illness. I bet we’ll find some violence if we dig deep enough.”

“Yeah, but that’s—”

“And he’s got a lot going against him besides: he’s relatively new to town, and he moved here just before the Keeper’s first killings. He has a personal connection to the most recent victim. If we’re right, and the Keeper has fixated on Hazard for some reason, well . . . Wesley and Hazard haven’t exactly had smooth sailing between them.”

“Dude,” Dulac said, seeming to struggle for words. “He’s Wesley.”

“And he’s trans.”

“Dude.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think Riggle will care about that.”

After a moment, Dulac glanced away, tugging on his collar. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. There’s no way Wesley did this. No way.”

“Whoever took Mitchell,” Somers said, pausing for breath because it was hard to say, almost as hard as thinking it, “we think Mitchell knew him. Trusted him.”

“You’re saying the Keeper of Bees, he’s somebody we know? Somebody, like, we interact with?”

Somers dragged fingers through his hair and shrugged.