M Sellars - Miranda

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Maybe you were dealing with a transient.”

“I guess it’s possible, but that wasn’t how it felt to me.”

“Well, we know what it usually means when you have one of your feelings…”

“Unfortunately.”

“Okay, for sake of argument, say we assume the suspect had a partner who has now resurfaced. If you apply the Holmes criteria for defining serial killers, the timing itself could speak to an emotional cooling-off period between murders. It’s been what, a little over five weeks? That could easily fit depending on the original cycle of activity and the triggering stressor.”

I nodded. “True. But the original case had a period of acceleration. A spree that occurred in the days leading up to a full moon. We’re a few days past that this month. So, why now? Why today of all days?”

“Maybe the killer isn’t actually on a lunar cycle. There could be a different stressor,” she said. “This might just be a coincidence. They do happen, you know.”

“Yes, I do. And maybe that’s the case this time, but something in my gut says no.”

“Well, like I said, we know what your gut feelings usually mean.”

We stopped at our rooms, which were positioned directly across the hall from one another. I dug around in my pocket for my keycard. Constance already had hers in hand.

“But what about the loss of the partner?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Wouldn’t that affect the pattern somehow?”

“That would all depend on the emotional investment. There’s almost always a primary partner with paired killers. The one who calls the shots and most often literally controls the actions of the other. There may or may not have been a bond between them.”

“So a dominant and a submissive.”

She nodded. “More or less.”

“Miranda is definitely dominant,” I offered.

“She would certainly fit the profile, but she’s currently incarcerated.”

“No. Annalise is, not Miranda.”

“Okay, that’s more your area of expertise than mine.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Speaking of expertise, with all that information floating around in your head, why aren’t you working with the BAU yourself?”

She shrugged. “Having that sort of information and having the talent to put it into practice are two different things.”

“Yeah. So I’ve been told.”

She smiled. “Besides, right now I like it right where I am.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“Okay…” she said, paused, and then nudged the conversation back to its original track. “So what about this whole gut feeling of yours? Obviously that’s leading you back to Miranda as well.”

I gave her a quick nod along with a shrug. “Yeah, it is. I’m not sure exactly what she has to do with all this, but she’s involved somehow. I’m convinced of that much.”

She shook her head and sighed, “Dammit, Rowan. Why do you always have to be right?”

I could tell she meant the words to be rhetorical, but I still answered with a “Huh?”

“What you said earlier,” she explained. “The calm before the storm. It didn’t last very long, did it?”

“No, it didn’t.” I shook my head. “But then, it never does.”

“Yeah…” She allowed her voice to trail off for a moment. “Well, I’d better call Ben,” she finally said, turning and unlocking the door to her room. “If you’re correct, and they don’t already have a body on their hands, he needs to know they’ve probably got one coming.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

She made a half turn back toward me, holding the door ajar with her palm. “Okay, so since you didn’t get to finish your lunch, do you want to clean up then try grabbing something to eat somewhere else in a little bit?”

I shook my head. “I think I’ll wait until dinner this evening. What about you? I kind of interrupted your lunch too.”

“I’m fine, actually. Besides, I have some protein bars in my bag. Do you want one to hold you over?”

“No, but thanks anyway. What I really need to do is call Jante and let her know I’ll talk to Miranda again.”

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with that, especially after what just happened?”

“Actually that’s all the more reason why I need to do it.”

“But if you’re right and she has something to do with what just happened to you, wouldn’t that be a little too dangerous?”

“Obviously it’s dangerous no matter what I do, Constance,” I replied. “But this time I plan to play by my rules, not hers.”

“And what are those?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t made them up yet.”

Constance shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Well, call Felicity before you do anything else,” she instructed. “I promised her you would, and I don’t want her angry with me because you didn’t follow instructions.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Been there. It’s not pleasant.”

“Well then start dialing,” she replied as she pushed her door farther open and stepped across the threshold. “Because you’re already giving me more than my share of unpleasantness all by yourself. I don’t need any from her.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” I quipped.

“Sure, why not?” she replied, a note of good-natured sarcasm briefly echoing in her words before she turned serious for a moment. “So you’re certain you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah. Tired, but I’ll be fine. Why?”

“Double checking. You just bled all over a restaurant, you know.”

I acquiesced. “True.”

“If you need anything, just call me or bang on the door, okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Constance. Don’t worry so much.”

“Okay, get some rest. But just so you know, I plan to check in on you.”

I half chuckled, “You’re almost as bad as Felicity.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Touche.”

As she started swinging the door shut she added, “Now, speaking of your wife, go call her. And just so you know, I have her permission to use force with you if necessary.”

The door was closed before I could answer, so I shook my head and turned toward my own. Back down the hallway, I heard the elevator chime then start opening, so I quickly swiped the keycard and pushed into my room. Once inside I parked myself on the corner of the bed and made the call to Felicity.

The conversation with her went much as I expected. A full gamut of emotions and a few torrents of Gaelic, some of which were as yet unfamiliar to me. I had the distinct impression from the tone by which they were delivered it would be better to keep it that way.

By the time we eventually said our goodbyes, she had calmed down. Still, she made it a point to remind me that she kept an overnight bag packed for emergencies and that she would find a way to get here if necessary. Since she wasn’t one to bluff, I took her threat to heart and promised to play it safe.

Unfortunately, as I never seemed to be the one in control of my own destiny, I wasn’t entirely sure what good that promise was going to do either of us.

The aftermath of the pseudo-hemorrhage was still clinging to me, so I needed to get myself cleaned up, especially if I planned to venture out into public for dinner at some point. I also still needed to call Doctor Jante, but given the events of the day, I found myself procrastinating. Even though I felt I had no choice but to meet with Miranda again, the idea of putting myself in that position was already taking its toll. I wasn’t kidding when I told Constance that I’d yet to make up a new set of rules, and so far that fact hadn’t changed.

My headache was already starting to ramp up again, although this time it was coming at me from both sides of the veil. As a preemptive move, I rummaged through my suitcase and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. After pouring a pile of them into my palm out of habit, I scooped the majority back into the container, leaving only two behind. I’d overdosed myself too many times in the past, and I didn’t need a repeat performance right now. I tore the sanitary wrap from a small glass and filled it with water from the tap. Tossing the pills into my mouth, I washed them down then set the glass aside and flipped the switch for the light over the vanity.