“But whatever scheme Conrad has going was launched more than three months ago,” Kilkenny pointed out. “And she’s only had reason to hate me for that long. If it’s true that she resents me for saving her life.”
Raisa shook her head, not because he was wrong but because she didn’t know the right answer. “Maybe we’re thinking too logically here? They’re smart and they plan, but at the very least, Isabel doesn’t thinklogically. Conrad probably doesn’t, either. I mean, they both have such a warped worldview that they’ve justified killing into the double digits.”
Kilkenny made an agreeing sound, but couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from the board.
“They’re so goddamn similar,” Raisa said, and then paused as her words reverberated in the room. “They’re so similar.”
“You said that.”
“No, they’re so similar,” Raisa said again, aware she wasn’t making complete sense. “They’re the same person, aren’t they? Like, almost the same person.”
“Close enough,” Kilkenny said, finally turning toward her. “There’s not much degree of separation in personality when you’re already talking about serial killers.”
“But even for a small sample size, they share a lot of quirks, right?” Raisa said. “Their origin stories are both rooted in a family-annihilation situation.” She remembered what she’d asked Sasha, the journalist. “Was there ever any talk of Nathaniel being the one who poisoned his family rather than his father?”
“Once it came out he was a serial killer, sure,” Kilkenny said. “I don’t know how much faith to put in that, though. There never seemed to be any chatter at the time that he was the one who’d done it.”
“There was never any talk that Isabel killed Alex and our parents, either,” Raisa pointed out. “Though Nathaniel would have been a lot younger.”
“Fits with poisoning,” Kilkenny said. “Still, doubtful. But the possibility is there.”
“Even if neither had been responsible, they both had these huge life-altering tragedies in their history,” Raisa continued. “Just like with Kate.”
Kilkenny’s brows furrowed. “Huh. There’s coincidence and then there’s—”
“This,” Raisa agreed. “Twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.”
Kilkenny stilled, just like he had outside the interrogation room.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head, the moment passing. “Nothing. Shay used to say that.”
“Oh.” Raisa chewed on her lip, not sure what to offer as comfort.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“Okay.” For lack of a better option, she pulled out her phone and texted Delaney.
Any chance you have Isabel’s CPS file?
Do I have it (officially?) no of course not, was the immediate answer.
Raisa rolled her eyes.Unofficially.
In your inbox.
Raisa refreshed her email, and saw not one but two unread emails. “Oh shit.”
“What?” Kilkenny was at her back immediately, trying to read over her shoulder.
“I emailed the office where Conrad interviewed before his first kill, and they just responded,” Raisa said, clicking into the email. It was short but pleasant. They told her they only had so much on record, and it was possible that Conrad had met with other people that day who weren’t on the official list. “Do you recognize any of the names?”
She held the phone out to Kilkenny, who shook his head. “No.”
Raisa deflated. For some reason, she’d thought Kate’s tip about Conrad’s job interview in Houston was going to lead to some kind of epiphany. Probably she’d just been screwing with Raisa.
The next email was Isabel’s CPS file.