by Mary Stone
“Artemis,” she murmured to herself.
In lieu of an American history course, Winter had fulfilled her general education requirement with a class about Ancient Greece. She’d always enjoyed the stories of Greek deities on Mount Olympus, and she had fallen in love with the television show Xena: Warrior Princess when she was younger.
Artemis was the twin sister of Apollo, and she had sworn off marriage to be a hunter. Her weapon of choice was a crescent-shaped bow, and depictions of her often included the moon. In Ancient Greece, Artemis was the revered goddess of the hunt, and…
Winter took in a sharp breath.
Goddess of the hunt and…protector of girls and women.
When her eyes snapped open, there was no trace of the headache left, and only a slight splotch of red on the balled-up toilet paper. Blinking to clear her vision, she pushed to her feet.
She hadn’t been unconscious for long, but as she washed her hands, she hoped enough time had passed for Noah to return to his desk.
Aside from the knowledge that the Ancient Greeks had dubbed Artemis the protector of women and girls, Winter had no idea how the goddess fit into their case.
Was the killer a deranged lunatic who thought they were Artemis? Or were they a worshipper of the Ancient Greek Pantheon? Or were they just Greek?
Ever since the death of Douglas Kilroy, her headaches and the visions that accompanied them had become less and less intense. And with the decrease in intensity came a decrease in specificity, at least this time.
Was this how they would be from here on out? Vague depictions with some hidden symbolism she wouldn’t unearth until after it was too late?
Usually, a vision gave her peace of mind and a direction for a case, but now she was more fed up than she had been before.
Even her damn brain wouldn’t cooperate with their investigation.
When she spotted Noah’s empty chair, she almost groaned aloud. She needed to tell someone about what she had just seen, needed to throw out ideas that might point her the right way. Because if she had to make outbound calls for another workday, she thought she may well play hooky for the next month.
Then again, if she cracked and went insane, she wouldn’t need to play hooky.
Rather than loaf around the VC cubicles, she started for the elevator. There was one other person in the building who knew about her sixth sense, and maybe he would actually be at his desk. For good measure, she typed a quick text message to advise Aiden she was headed in his direction.
His affirmative response came before the silver doors slid open, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
She still wasn’t entirely sure how to act around Aiden anymore, but whether she wanted to delve into the subject or not, she was about to find out. The door to his office was open, and his pale eyes snapped away from the computer monitor as she stepped into the entryway.
“Hey.”
“Morning.” He waved her in. “Come in, have a seat.”
For good measure, she flicked the lock into place after shutting the door. Within the walls of the FBI office, she took any and every precaution to ensure she wasn’t overheard when she discussed her sixth sense. The last thing she needed was for someone like…well, someone like Sun Ming to overhear her. She’d already gone spastic enough around the other agent to give her some idea of how different Winter was.
“So.”
When he spoke, she realized she had been silent since she entered.
She flipped her braid until it rested along her spine, then was angry at herself for fidgeting. “Sorry.”
“It sounded like it was something important,” he surmised. “Or did I read that message the wrong way?”
“No, well, maybe.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Want to be a little more specific?”
“I had a headache, or a ‘vision,’ whatever you want to call it,” she explained, using air quotes because the term still embarrassed her.
A flicker of understanding softened his skeptical expression as he nodded. “You all right?”
“Yeah, fine. It wasn’t a, a big one, I guess. I don’t really know how to quantify these things. But it only lasted for maybe a minute or two. It was really short, and honestly, it didn’t make a lot of sense. Or maybe it does. I’m not completely sure.”
Straightening in his chair, he propped both elbows atop the polished wooden desk. “Let’s hear it, then. Maybe I can help.”
“Honestly,” she said as she met his intent gaze. “I don’t even know if it has to do with the case. I mean, so far all my ‘visions’ have been about cases I’ve been working. Autumn said that might have something to do with my conscious thoughts being mostly focused on the case. So, if I was thinking really hard about something else, maybe I’d have visions about that too.”
“Wait, Autumn said that?” he echoed, raising both eyebrows to fix her with a disbelieving stare. “You told her about it? What, when? And why?”
Winter’s eye roll was all but involuntary. “A few days after we arrested Catherine Schmidt. And I told her because she’s my friend, and I basically lied to her about snooping around in her past. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she knows the truth now, but I’m not the one who screwed that up and then acted like a huge dick about it.” She narrowed her eyes for emphasis.
Now, it was his turn to roll his eyes. “I told you, I talked to her about it. I apologized, and she accepted my apology. We’re fine with one another now, at least as far as I know.”
“Whatever,” she muttered. “And just so we’re clear, it’s my brain, and I’ll tell whoever in the hell I want about it, all right?”
“Yeah, I got it.” He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture she didn’t believe. “I didn’t mean to sound like an ass. I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“All right, yeah.” She blew out a breath, wanting to get back to the subject at hand. “Fair enough. But, anyway, this one just didn’t make a lot of sense. It wasn’t even anything from this century, even this millennium. It was like I was at this party in Ancient Greece. There was a bonfire, music, wine. There was a full moon, and everyone was wearing this crest around their necks.”
Aiden’s stare was intense.
She cleared her throat but didn’t look away. “It was over the front of the gate to their village, and on a couple of the shields that were sitting by the fire. It was a bow and arrow, but the bow was shaped like a crescent, like the moon. That symbol, that was the symbol for Artemis. The goddess of the hunt, and…” his eyes were already wide, but she paused for dramatic effect, “the protector of women and girls.”
“Holy shit,” he murmured.
Winter had expected a countenance of puzzlement, skepticism, or even outright frustration. After all, what in the hell did an ancient festival have to do with the murder of a mass shooter and two rapists? But she hadn’t expected the unabashed awe on his face.
“What?” she asked. “Is there something I’m missing? Is there a cult I don’t know about or something?”
He had already started to shake his head before she finished the questions. “No, at least not that I know of. But that, Artemis, I’m familiar with her too. Sun has a tattoo of Artemis on her back, between her shoulder blades.”
Winter’s mouth gaped open. “What?” she managed.
“She’s got a twin brother.” His face had paled just a little. “And he has a tattoo of Apollo on his arm. It’s been representative of their dynamic since they were kids. She’s had it for years.”
“Oh my god,” Winter breathed. “There’s no way. It can’t be Sun. I know she and I aren’t going to be friends any time soon, but there’s no way she’s a murderer. There’s got to be some other explanation.”
“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I agree with you. I don’t think it fits her at all. She might be a bitch a lot of the time, but she’s not a killer. She’s not even really a bad person, she’s just introverted, and I think she masks her awkwardness with attitude.”
“Like one of those fish that puffs itself up when there are predators around,” Winter suggested. As soon as she spoke the words, she realized how stupid they sounded. “I’m sorry.” She squeezed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“No, don’t be.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “That’s an accurate comparison. And those fish aren’t predators, at least not for the most part. Puffing up is a defense mechanism.”
“Right. But, shit, Aiden. How do we even start to prove it’s not her?”
Pursing his lips, Aiden leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got an idea.”
21
Autumn felt like she had been lagging behind schedule all day, and even though she was on time to lunch with Noah and Winter, she hustled across the parking lot to the entrance of the café like she was about to miss a flight.
Though the two cafés had distinct interiors, she still managed to confuse the place with the coffee house where she had met Aiden Parrish earlier in the week.
As soon as she spotted her two friends seated in a corner booth, she could tell they were stressed. Not long after her suggestion that they meet for lunch, Winter had sent a text message to ask if she and Noah could pick Autumn’s brain for some insight on their current investigation.
Winter hadn’t provided much in the way of detail, but Autumn suspected the questions involved the same case that Aiden had mentioned.
Licensed forensic psychologist or not, Autumn didn’t care to speculate on a person’s behavior when she was unaware of the context. If Winter and Noah wanted to discuss the same topic as Aiden, she would give them the same answers she gave him.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted as she approached her friends.
Though they each offered a smile in response, Autumn could tell the gestures were strained, maybe even feigned altogether.
Her ability to tap into their emotional states with a touch might have been hindered by her familiarity with them, but she suspected that even an average Joe would have been able to tell they were stressed.
“Hey, congratulations.” Winter scooted to the side to give Autumn room to sit. “You look good. Are those some of the new clothes you got with the gift card Shelby and Bree gave you?”
Glancing down to her teal semi-sheer blouse and accompanying gray slacks, Autumn nodded. “I had to go sign some paperwork earlier, licensing stuff. Figured I shouldn’t show up in a band shirt and jeans, you know?”
“Good call,” Winter chuckled.
As much as Autumn wanted to ask them what weighed so heavily on their minds, she bit back the inquiry and glanced over the laminated lunch menu.
Despite the medication prescribed by her doctor, her stomach had been a source of constant pain over the last few days. All she had managed to keep down in the last twenty-four hours was half a sleeve of saltines and some toast, and she realized that she was half-starved.
“So,” she said, looking up to flash Noah a grin. “Are we going to have a scone eating contest? Winter said this place has pretty amazing scones.”
His smile in response was only half-hearted, and her curiosity grew. If there was one thing on the planet that could cheer up Noah Dalton, it was food.
“Probably not right now.” He shrugged, and she didn’t miss the forlorn shadow behind his green eyes. “We’ve still got to go back to work, and if I’m all full of scones, I’m liable to fall asleep while I’m going through all these damn phone numbers.”
At the mention of the calls, Winter groaned and rubbed her eyes. “He’s not wrong,” she muttered. “I was thinking about double fisting espressos on my way back to the office.”
“That bad, huh?” Autumn chuckled. Her need to know what in the hell was going on had reached critical mass, and if she didn’t ask a question to shift the dialogue, she thought her head might explode. “Well, what’s on your minds, guys? You both seem, I don’t know…weird.”
Heaving a sigh, Noah shifted his gaze to the window at her and Winter’s backs as he shook his head.
“Well.” Winter paused to look thoughtful. “I know you said that you’re going to be doing threat assessment at your new job. Aiden told me a little bit of what he knows about it, and I was wondering if we could get an expert’s opinion on something we’re working right now?”
This time, it was Autumn’s turn to heave a sigh. “I’m guessing this is the same thing I talked to Aiden about a couple days ago, isn’t it?”
“Wait.” Winter raised an eyebrow. “You already talked to him about this?”
With a shrug, Autumn leaned her back against the cushioned booth. “Sort of. It was all pretty vague. He just wanted to know more about what might motivate someone to become a vigilante. I told him that people turning into Frank Castle isn’t all that common, and that most disgruntled law enforcement agents find ways to take out their anger in the job. Bending rules, breaking rules, or just generally doing shady stuff. They don’t usually break away from everything and go rogue, though.”
“So, what about your job, then?” Winter asked. “The threat assessment part. It’s like a proactive version of profiling, isn’t it?”
Autumn shrugged again and nodded. “That’s a simplified way to put it, yeah.”
“And what if we had someone we wanted you to, you know, assess?” Winter’s expectant gaze was fixed on Autumn.
She bit down on her tongue to keep the wide-eyed stare off her face.
Now, this wasn’t what she had expected. She’d expected more vague queries and hypothetical situations, not a job proposition.
“Well, yeah,” Autumn said after a brief silence. “My new boss said that they have a history of working with the Richmond PD and the FBI. It’s a case by case thing, for the most part. They get the requests from the cops or the Feds, and after they sign some paperwork to agree on payment and confidentiality, they help them with whatever they’re asking for.”
Some of the strain on Noah’s face was replaced with curiosity as he glanced to Winter. “I think that might be what we need, actually.”
Winter nodded her agreement. “Yeah, I think so too.”
“For what?” Autumn managed, furrowing her brows. “Are you guys trying to hire me for something?”
For the first time since she had arrived, the typical good nature returned to Noah’s grin as Winter chuckled.
“I think so, yeah,” Winter answered. “We’ve got the budget approval from a SAC.”
“Wait a second.” Autumn held up her hands as she turned her incredulous stare from Noah to Winter and then back. “Wait, hold on. My first day of work isn’t until tomorrow. And as far as I know, that’s just like a getting-to-know-you day. They show me around the building, hook me up with an office, that sort of thing.”
“Might as well hit the ground running, though, right?” Noah asked with a wide smile. “You’ve got friends that’re Feds, remember? You’ve got to get some kind of bonus for putting up with us.”
“Oh my god,” Autumn muttered. “I thought the ‘all you can eat scones’ were the bonus.”
He lifted a lazy shoulder. “It’s part of it.”
“We could really use your help.” When Winter looked at Noah, he nodded.
“Yeah, actually,” he confirmed. “We really could.”
“Look,” Winter said. “Right now, we’ve got jack squat for suspects, and the only evidence we’ve got to work with is…it’s just…it’s basically nothing. Everything we’re going off of so far is circumstantial, and right now, our boss is looking at one of the agents in our division as a possible suspect. So, we need someone to evaluate that person to tell us how likely it is that they’re capable of committing these murders.”
When they laid out the scenario so plainly, Autumn found it was difficult to argue with their logic. Plus, in a competitive field like forensic psychology, she would be silly not to make use of every possible advantage she had.
Like Noah said, her friendship with a handful of federal agents was a distinct advantage.
For most in her field, a reliable connection to the bureau was only established after years of experience. Rare were the instances where a person fresh out of graduate school walked into the job with connections that took an entire career to develop.
Then again, what were the odds that her boss would be comfortable sending a brand-new hire to work a high profile case like the murder of Tyler Haldane?
Chances were good that if she relayed the offer to one of the partners of the firm, they would assign the task to a more tenured psychologist. They might let her tag along, but Autumn doubted she would be given full control over the job.
“All right,” she finally conceded. “Let me call my boss.”
As she fished the smartphone out of her black handbag, she could almost feel their relief.
“Thank you,” Winter said as Autumn pushed to her feet.
With a quick nod, Autumn forced a smile to her lips. “There’d better be a platter of scones waiting for me when I get back.” For emphasis, she jabbed a finger at the laminate tabletop.
Noah chuckled. “I think we can work something out.”
As Autumn made her way back out into the sunny afternoon and toward her car, she wished she had a cigarette.
Ever since she had submitted the handful of applications to graduate school, she had been confident in her psychology-related knowledge. Her grades were always straight As, and her grade point average had been a perfect 4.0 since her undergrad.
Whenever an opportunity to learn outside the classroom had presented itself, Autumn had leapt at the chance. She was well-versed in clinical sessions and research, and she had plenty of hours racked up in both arenas.
Hell, her dissertation had been accepted without a request for revisions. She knew what she was doing, so why couldn’t she seem to shake this ridiculous lack of confidence?
Earlier in the day, both partners at the firm had commended the work she’d done on her dissertation, and they had been impressed with the practicum work and internships she had under her belt.