“I’m not discussing this with you, Elise. You don’t need to know the details, and don’t get all in my face and tell me you have a right to know. I’m not falling for that.”
“I’m not going to play that card.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “But I would like to know what was in the note. That can’t be too gory, can it?”
“The note.” He plucked a napkin from the metal dispenser and lifted a pen from his pocket. He scribbled as he spoke. “Fifty-one plus fifty equals 187. Forty-two plus fifty-eight equals 187.”
Elise cocked her head. “Makes no sense at all.”
“He’s just yanking our chain.”
“Have you tried to decipher it yet?”
“Haven’t given it a lot of thought. It’s not my case, remember?”
“Even though he sent the note to you?”
“It’s not like I can run around and investigate the case on my own. I’m not like my brother Judd.”
“What does your brother Judd do?”
“He’s a P.I., a private investigator. He follows a different drummer. He could never report to anyone. He’s a rebel who distrusts authority.”
“Where does he come in the line of Brody brothers?”
“He’s my youngest brother.”
“That makes sense. He probably remembers your father the least and has the most flimsy connection to him. Sounds like he might have grown up distrusting authority.”
“Wow, are you picking up tips from Courtney or something?”
She stirred her ice with her straw. “Some things don’t take a degree in psychology. They’re just obvious.”
“Well, you’re probably right about Judd. He doesn’t see what the big deal is. He can almost accept that his father was a serial killer and move on.”
“But you can’t.”
“Never.”
“He didn’t know him like you did. How old was he when your father jumped?”
“He was six years old.”
“A baby, like my kids.”
“Yeah, he missed Dad and would cry himself to sleep when he was gone, but he didn’t really understand what was going on.”
“Reminds me a lot of my kids. So many of them come from broken homes or they never knew their fathers, and their moms are busy supporting the family. In many ways, it’s just best if they move on, find another father figure.”
“That’s what Judd did. He’s a carefree SOB. Wish I could be more like him.”
She traced the grooves of his knuckles. “You were the oldest. You were his father figure, and you couldn’t afford to be carefree.”
“Not then, but maybe I should move on, too.” He crossed an ankle over his knee. “Is Ty going home?”
“As soon as the hospital releases him. I think he’s had enough of San Francisco.”
“I’m sorry he got caught up in this.” He turned his hand over and captured her fingers. “It’s interesting that the killer has taken the index fingers of all his victims, but he chopped off Ty’s ring finger. Do you think that has some significance?”
She tapped her cup. “Funny you should bring that up. Ty was talking about how he couldn’t wear a wedding ring anymore. It’s almost like the Alphabet Killer knew about our situation, almost like he was protecting me from Ty.”
Sean slapped his palm against the table. “I’m glad you see that, too. That’s exactly what I was thinking. He seems to have fixated on you, Elise.”
She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t want him fixated on me.”
“Of course not, but in a way it makes me feel better. I don’t think he’s going to hurt you. It’s almost as if once you escaped from him, he developed some respect for you and is putting on a show just for you.”
“Yuck. I wish he’d stop. I’ve had enough.” She tapped the table in front of him. “Does the note mean he’s going to kill again?”
“I don’t see how he’s going to keep up this pace. A killing takes a lot out of someone—emotionally, physically. He’s already killed three people this week. Some serial killers go months between kills.”
“He’s going to screw up. I just know it. Attacking Ty like that was totally out of control.”
“It feels like he’s heading for some kind of climax.”
“Sexual?”
“That’s also something curious about this guy. So many serial killers rape their victims. The victims haven’t shown any signs of molestation.”
“Of course, that would just leave more evidence like DNA. He’s very careful, isn’t he?”
He sucked down the rest of his soda, slurping at the end. “Sorry. Do you want another?”
“I’ve had enough caffeine. I’m going to have a hard enough time getting to sleep tonight.”
He grabbed her hand. “You’re staying with me, right? That’s decided.”
“Courtney invited me to join her in her fabulous suite.”
“Would you rather be with Courtney in her fabulous suite, or with me in my not-so-fabulous house?”
She ran her tongue along her bottom lip and stared deep into his dark eyes. “Your house was about the most fabulous place I’ve ever been—especially your shower.”
“Such impure thoughts from a kindergarten teacher.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Do you need to go back to your place or Courtney’s to get anything?”
“Probably not a bad idea to drop by my place even though I packed enough the first time around to get me through the week.”
“You know—” he ran his knuckles down her forearm “—it might not be a bad idea for you to get out of the city when school’s over. Did you have any plans before all this broke?”
“I was actually just going to take a week or so and drive down the coast—you know, through Monterey, Big Sur and maybe as far south as Hearst Castle. I’ve never been to any of those places.”
“That’s a great drive. You’ll love it. Can you do that sooner rather than later?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Trying to keep you safe.”
She hunched forward. “Sean, tell me you’re going to catch this guy.”
“Me?” He jabbed his chest with his thumb. “I’m not allowed to catch him. I’ll be picking up other cases and leaving the Alphabet Killer to the task force—the task force I’m not on.”
“That’s crazy.”
Sean’s eyebrows collided over his nose. “Fifty-one fifty.”
“Huh?”
“The call for picking up someone mentally unstable—fifty-one fifty.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
He shoved the napkin in front of her. “Fifty-one fifty. It’s in the note.”
“Is he telling us he’s crazy? We already know that.” She folded up one edge of the napkin as she studied the other numbers. “Could this be a coordinate again?”