Page 76 of Rules

The implications settle heavily. A calling card? A message? A warning? But for whom?

"As soon as we're done here, get this right to forensics," I tell Brooklyn. "Priority fingerprinting and ballistics."

As we continue examining the scene, something keeps nagging at me. A pattern I can't quite pinpoint. I pull out my phone, calling up the map Law showed me earlier with the break-in locations marked.

"Law," I beckon him over. "Look at this. Peterson's makes the sixth business hit. If we connect the dots..."

Law studies the screen, as I connect the dots in order of the break-ins, he looks up with a grim realization. "The first four make a diamond, well not really, more a circle. These two more closer in ones, seem to be following the same path. Like they are getting smaller to point to something. But what?" He steps backward and crosses his arms. "Circles." Law takes a few steps then turns and paces back. "All of this has a pattern to it. We just have to figure out the pattern."

"What would be in the middle of the circle? Has anyone mapped Michael's known associates in the area?" I ask Law.

"Mouse and Keyboard are working on it," he confirms, turning and heading the opposite direction. "After the airport incident, the FBI closed his business and cleared it out when we took him down."

"Well, if this pattern continues, we'll have an idea of the two areas that will be hit next." Taking my phone I call Holly. "I sent you a map. Yes. See where there are two areas in the inner that don't have a dot or line through them? Can you please make a list of all the businesses in that area. The dots are where break-ins have happened. Exactly, we have an area to focus on. What? Let me look. Oh Holly, interesting, I've often said you would have made a great detective. Thanks, I have to go."

"Law, look," I held the map out. "Holly said it looks like the makings of a bullseye. And it's heading to a two block radius with your business on the far right and the Sheriff's office on the far left side."

"Damn," Law blows out a breath. "Michael targeting us?"

"I don't think we can rule it out." A chill runs down my spine. That sounds precisely like Michael's style—feeding off others' terror and helplessness. "We know he likes to play games."

Mr. Peterson's wife shows up and I help get Mr. Peterson into her car, urging them to go to the doctor's office as a precaution. I return to find Law deep in conversation with Brooklyn, examining the security footage on her tablet.

"Something's not adding up," Law says as I approach. "These guys are pros. Military training, clockwork timing, efficient destruction. But all of a sudden after all the break-ins they all of a sudden leave evidence? A shell casing found laying on top of the mess? A casing where there hasn't been a shooting? That's amateur hour."

"Unless it's deliberate," I point out. "Maybe a bullet for the bullseye?"

Law's eyes narrow. "Fuck."

"What bullseye?" Brooklyn asks.

I show her the map and explain that we believe we're the target.

She shakes her head, "Is it too late to put in for a long vacation leave?"

"Only if you take us with you," Ferris chuckles. "And we go somewhere far away from here."

My phone rings with a call from Holly.

"Tobias here. Really? Alright, I'll send a team over when we're done here. Can you see if forensics is en route?"

I hear a female voice from the front of the shop. Stepping over and looking, I see it's Erin and two of her team.

"Never mind Holly, they just got here." Hanging up, I walk over. Law, Ferris and Brooklyn follow.

"Damn, they know how to make a mess." Erin Maithis scans the room.

"Erin, this is Law Summers and his associate Ferris. Gentlemen, this is Erin Maithis, head of the tri-county forensics department." I watch Erin's eyes scan Ferris. Catching me looking, she quickly shifts her eyes to the floor.

Hurriedly she introduces her coworkers and everyone exchanges pleasantries.

"Great, now that we're all buddies, we need to get to work," she says with a dismissive tone.

"First, we have some evidence." I walk back to where the bullet casing lies.

"Evidence, that's a sexy word." Erin snaps on a pair of rubber gloves, lifting the casing with a pair of long tweezers. "I wasn't notified there was gun fire."

"There wasn't."

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