“You want to take a vote?” Mahler watched the detective shift back and forth. Rivas was a follower, unused to speaking up. Maybe the encounter with Peña had shaken something loose.

“No, Eddie. Listen, we’ve got some good stuff on this latest victim. The car and the guy on the surveillance camera. The things from the canvass. We’ve got a shot—it’s different from the last time. But we all have to work it. There’s not time for these other cases.”

“So you know the latest one wasn’t Partridge? You decided that?”

“No, of course not. But shouldn’t we wait for the evidence to take us to Partridge and then come back to these cases?”

“I’m not waiting for anything. I’m going after the son of a bitch.”

“That’s just it. It’s not you. It’s us, the whole team.” Rivas weighed his words. “Does the chief know we’re doing this?”

Mahler smiled. “Is that what this is about? I guess you’ve got a choice, Daniel. You can do what I tell you, or you can talk to Truro. Go ahead. Talk to Truro. Tell him you think I’m screwing this up. Maybe he’ll offer you my job.”

“Eddie—”

His anger spilling out, Mahler felt the words racing ahead. “He likes you, thinks you’re the salt of the earth. You be the lead investigator. Bump in salary, another week’s vacation. I’ll retire and go home and read that shelf of books I’ve been staring at for twenty years.”

“Eddie, for God’s sake—I just wanted to talk about this.”

“Does it sound like I want to talk?” Mahler bit off the words.

Rivas glanced at Eden. “All right, Eddie, you want to do this? Okay, then tell me. When did you really decide to work these old cases? You hired Detective Somers two weeks ago. She’s a specialist in serial killings. You knew before this latest homicide you were going to go back to these old cases, didn’t you? That’s why she’s here. Isn’t it?”

Mahler studied Rivas. “You want to make decisions for this team, apply for the job. But if you want to work for me, do what I tell you or get the fuck out.”

The men faced each other. Mahler stood still until Rivas slowly turned away and went back to the table of binders. Mahler felt the silence in the room. In seven years of working together, he had never spoken to Rivas that way. Something new had happened, something that had overtaken Mahler before he could stop it.