Tessa glanced at them and then straight back to the floor. “No. Coins aren’t his thing. He does furniture, ornaments, clocks, some weird religious stuff. One of his old jokes was ‘there’s no money in coins.’”
Ella wasn’t sure she heard Tessa correctly. Suddenly, her thoughts went down a dark path, and for a moment she was transported to a different world. Here, these murders took on a much more sinister hue.
“Does the name Alan Yates mean anything to you?” Byford chipped in before Ella could speak first.
Tessa wiped her nose. “No, sorry. Who is that?”
“Another victim of this unsub,” said Byford.
“Un-what? What’s that?”
“Unsub. It means unknown subject.”
“You mean Jim wasn’t the only one?”
Ella was surprised Tessa hadn’t already heard about it. “No. Another gentleman was murdered three days before your husband was,” she said. “This is a serial case.”
The announcement induced new fear in Tessa. She suddenly pressed herself into the arm of the sofa. “A serial killer? In this town? What if he comes after me next?”
If Mia was here, she’d throw her a stern look about now. She always told her off for revealing details she shouldn’t. “He won’t come after you. You’re safe here.”
“How do you know that?” Tessa said. “You don’t know who this guy is. He could be anyone. What am I gonna do, live here forever?”
“Serial killers don’t work like that. Your husband was chosen at random. This isn’t about anyone in particular.” Ella wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not, but right now Tessa needed comfort more than anything.
“Well, stupid me. Forgive me for not knowing that.”
“Sorry, I’m just trying to say you’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” Tessa shouted. “Are you out of your mind? My husband was murdered in my house, and you think I’m gonna be fine?”
Ella felt this escalating. Tessa was getting hysterical. Understandable, but it would just make her feel worse in the long run. Ella didn’t want that. Tessa jumped out of her chair.
“I’ve been a widow for a day, and you come in here asking me questions, why don’t you…”
Byford leaped from his seat and came in between Ella and Tessa. He took Tessa’s hand.
“Mrs. Loveridge, my partner meant no harm. You understand it’s difficult for us to navigate these conversations sometimes.” Tessa pushed Byford’s arm away. He held up his palms to her. “Please, we’re here to do a job. A thankless one at that.”
Tessa backed up to the far wall. She dropped down into a sitting position and the tears came again.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost the only man I’ve ever been with. I don’t know what to do.”
Poor woman, Ella thought. As hard as it was for the investigators, it was a million times more difficult for the victims” families.
“Don’t do anything,” Byford said. “Just keep going. Sit in silence for hours. Cry all you have to. Go through old photos. Just because he’s not here in the flesh, doesn’t mean he isn’t alive in your memories.”
Ella could barely believe these words were coming from Byford. She’d only known him a day but she didn’t think he was capable of such emotion.
“You’re right. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to lash out,” Tessa said. She crawled to her feet then sat beside Ella. “Thank you for the words of encouragement. Both of you.”
Byford reached out and shook her hand. “If you think of anything else that might assist us, please contact us at the NDPD.”
“I will. Please find whoever did this.”
“We’re doing everything we can, ma’am, and your information will certainly help us.”
Ella followed Byford out the door, saying her goodbyes to Tessa and her sister on the way out. They headed to the car in silence.
“Tricky one,” Byford said.
Ella started up the engine. Interviews like this always felt surreal. “Thank you for stepping in there,” she said.
“That’s what partners are for. Do we have any family to interview on victim one’s side?”
They rolled off the driveway and back onto the road. “No. Alan Yates lived on his own. A neighbor found him.”
“So I guess it’s back to research.”
“Yeah, but I have something I want to look at. Let’s head to the precinct.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The feelings coursed through Ella, sensations that grew exponentially. She paced around her office like a caged animal. Byford ignored her as he typed away on his laptop. About now, Mia would have pushed her to spill her theories. What she needed right now was another mind to bounce ideas off, shape and mold them into actionable plans. She craved an expert’s ear to filter her muddled thoughts, but Byford didn’t seem at all interested.
But still, she couldn’t be too frustrated with him. He’d saved her from a hysterical woman a few hours ago.
She began writing on the whiteboard, but her thoughts strayed too far to make any coherent notes.
“Ella, what’s wrong?” Byford asked, finally. At last, she had an invitation to bounce her ideas off him.
“Did you hear what Tessa said her husband sold at his shop? Weird religious things.”
“Yes, and?”
“I checked the store online and found what she was talking about. Look at this.” She turned her laptop around to show a row of miniature statues. One was a hand missing two fingers, another was some kind of demonic ghoul, another was a deformed fetus.
“Not something I’d associate with antiques, but I’m sure someone would purchase them,” Byford said.
“These aren’t religious things; they’re occult relics,” said Ella. “What if we’re looking at this all wrong?”
“Wrong how?”
“I’ve been thinking about how rare it is for a serial killer to knowingly leave something behind at the scene. Other than items of convenience like murder weapons, it’s pretty much unheard of. Leaving something behind just gives police more evidence to work with, so these coins must be the most important part of his ritual.”
Byford sat back in his chair. “Right, but what’s this got to do with religious relics?”
“Because of the serial killers who left behind physical items, a lot of them were motivated by religion, Satanism, occult beliefs. There was a guy named Luke Woodham, a so-called Satanist who left behind goat horns. There was Michael Hardman who left behind ripped Bibles. Michael Kelly who left behind masks. I could go on.”
Byford seemed impressed. “So you think this has to do with what, Satanism?”
“No, not quite that. But coins have a long history with occult beliefs. I’ve been reading about it since we got back. Have you heard of Charon’s Obol? It’s an ancient Greek practice where people used to put coins over dead people’s eyes to take them to the underworld. Ancient Egyptians used to put coins over the eyes of the dead to shield them from the horrors of the afterlife. It’s all there.”