“She’s a smart shrink,” Kara said, “but there are other ways to track news. He wasn’t in the audience.”

“You can’t know that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I caught a pickpocket who was so good he slipped a wallet out of an armed cop’s pocket, complete with his badge. I assessed everyone in the audience, and I’m telling you, he wasn’t here.”

“You caught a pickpocket.”

“You doubt me?” Costa was going to be so much fun to play with. Kara hadn’t had so much fun in a long, long time.

“I don’t have time for games, Quinn.”

“No games. Look, you said Anne Banks knew the killer. If he’s after someone who knows him, he’s not going to get caught in action. Meaning, he’s not going to show up if he thinks a cop might recognize him.”

“Makes sense.” He sat on the edge of the table and assessed her. She pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, giving him the physical upper hand, but she had been in charge since they walked into this room—and he didn’t realize it.

Yeah, Matt Costa was going to be fun.

“Maybe he’s just playing around,” she said. “Waiting for his true target to be available, or to throw off the investigation.”

“So he kills Anne because she slighted him, but killed a couple more people so she wouldn’t seem like she was a specific target?”

“Exactly,” Kara said. “And he may have other specific targets, and everyone else is just window dressing.”

“You might be onto something,” Matt said. “I’ll run it by Catherine.”

“You do that.” She got up. “In the meantime, I gotta go give a statement on the thief and then convince Maddox to quash my name.” She smiled and handed Matt back his wallet. “You were too easy.”

Matt took his wallet, looking both surprised and angry, but also impressed. “You stole my wallet?”

“You gave me shit because you thought I’d bailed on you—I was just having fun. Don’t take it personally. I’ve been picking pockets since I was a little kid.”

Matt stared at Kara as she walked out of the conference room. He looked down at his wallet, then flipped through it to make sure everything was still there. Nothing appeared to be missing.

Well, damn. He probably walked right into that. But he was tired and frustrated, and he hoped that the press conference would save a life, but feared the killer was ten steps ahead of them.

He took a deep breath, then stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. Closed his eyes and tried to picture when Quinn had pulled it. He’d opened the door to the conference room and let her enter first. That was the only time they brushed against each other. He hadn’t even felt her extract his wallet, but that was the only time she could have done it.

Yes, he was impressed. But if she did it again, he’d cuff her. Not for long, but long enough to show her who was in charge, and that this wasn’t a game.