Detective Kline squeezed the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back so severely it acted like a facelift. Lumdsen looked like a grizzled veteran in comparison. "Well, for one," she said, "we would have known he tracked you all the way to Pennsylvania. That's kind of a big deal."

"I wasn't sure it was him. I didn't want to seem paranoid. I happen to know you guys don't appreciate it when people call wolf."

"Who's calling wolf? This is an escaped serial killer we're talking about. If you had reason to believe—"

"Fine! I should have checked in. I shouldn't have bought the gun. If you're gonna press charges, just do it already so I can go home."

"Home?" Lumsden looked up from flicking through his notebook, letting the pages fall back. "You're not going home tonight, Martin. Your home is an active crime scene."

"Well, where the fuck am I gonna go then? Are you gonna pay for my hotel?"

Lumsden and Kline shared a look. "Yeah, we'll set you up at the Waldorf, Martin. How's that sound?" The two of them laughed.

"Fuck sake. Is there anything you chuckleheads can do for me?"

Lumsden gave him a cold glare. "We are doing everything we can for you, Martin. But you've fought us at every turn. If we'd known about Barclay in Bethlehem, we could've had him apprehended before the two of you got back to the city. But you had to play hero, just like you did with Damiani."

Martin's fist came down on the table before he could stop it. Kline startled. Lumsden didn't even blink.

"You goddamn well know that wasn't my intent!"

"You were drenched in Damiani's blood," Kline said. "Looked like that Tom Cruise movie, you know? Plays a vampire?"

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Have I committed a crime? There's a killer on the loose—"

"You don't think we know that?"

"We're aware of that, Martin."

"Then why the fuck are we just sitting here? We should be out there—" He jabbed a finger toward the door. "—looking for that fucking maniac!"

"You have no business looking for him, Martin. That's our job. What you can do, if you want to help, is check yourself into a nice hotel and try to get some sleep."

"Pamper yourself," Kline said with a sarcastic smirk. "You deserve it."

Martin shook his head and got to his feet. In the same moment he reached for his phone on the stainless-steel table, it began to buzz.

The detectives shared another look. Lumsden held up a finger.

"Put it on speaker."

Martin looked at the screen. "It's Sheila."

"Sheila Tanner?" Kline frowned. "I thought you two broke up?"

"Oh, was I supposed to run that by you as well? Jesus fuck." He answered the phone, holding it to his ear to spite them.

Kline rose partway, gripping the table. Lumsden patted her shoulder and she eased back into her seat.

"Martin?"