Matt didn’t believe that for a minute. He’d made her angry, and he felt like shit for it. He may have even hurt her feelings, and he felt even worse if he did.

But he hadn’t broken through her surface. He didn’t think anyone could.

37

Monday, March 8
Spokane
7:00 a.m.

On Monday morning, Ryder set up a Skype call between Matt and Charlie McCafferty, the man who’d lost his family eighteen years ago, when he was sixteen. He’d left Spokane for Boston College two years later, graduated with honors, went into graphic design for a start-up company that he was still with, married nine years ago and had two young children.

He definitely didn’t fit Catherine’s profile, but Matt needed to talk to him.

It was ten in the morning Eastern time, and McCafferty was in his office.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” Matt said, assessing the man over the computer. He was pleasant looking, thin, and wore thick glasses. He had on a cable-knit sweater and behind him on a coatrack was a long wool coat and scarf. “Still cold out there? It was freezing when I left DC last week.”

“Snowing. I kind of like it. What can I do for you, Agent Costa?”

“I’d like to talk to you about the car accident you were in years ago when you lost your family. I know a lot of time has passed, and I know that it was a horrific experience for you, but it would greatly help me if I could ask about the lawsuit you filed.”

McCafferty’s expression didn’t change, but his shoulders leaned in just a bit and he glanced down at his keyboard.

“I don’t know what you want from me, really. I left for college and haven’t been back—well, once, for my cousin’s wedding a few years ago.”

Travel would be easy enough to verify, but Matt made a note. “Several lawsuits were filed after the accident. I’m investigating a series of murders that may be connected to that.”

He looked confused. “Murders? From the accident? I don’t understand. Are you saying that the accident might have been a murder?”

This was confusing, so Matt took a gamble and explained it outright to McCafferty, in as few words possible. “Let me backtrack. A series of eight murders have occurred over the last six years, all starting on a March 3, the day and month of your accident. The first victim was a trauma nurse at Spokane General who lost one of her patients that night eighteen years ago. In the course of our investigation, we uncovered several other lawsuits against that nurse and other people who may now be at risk. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“About murder?” Charlie said.

“About your lawsuit. I read the file, the transcripts, I cannot begin to imagine what you were going through as a teenager.”

McCafferty didn’t say anything for a long minute.

“Charlie?” Matt pushed.