Blind Spot by Terri Persons

Author:Terri Persons
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 0099504197
Publisher: Doubleday
Published: 2007-03-13T05:00:00+00:00

Bernadette shivered as she hurried down the sidewalk toward her condo, but she didn’t pin the sensation on the evening chill. The Franciscan’s behavior—locking the door and sitting behind her—had been bizarre. Though she trusted the information he’d given her, she didn’t trust him. Her instincts had told her to stay away from the robed man. There’d be no more late-night counseling sessions. To hell with validation.

Twenty-seven

She revisited the wall Thursday morning.

Bernadette concentrated on the squares containing information she’d collected through her sight. With the revelation that the man had read a Bible and not a medical reference book, the way she’d interpreted what she’d seen through the murderer’s eyes was now in question.

The physical description of the killer remained valid. Big man. White. Hairy hands. Dark long-sleeved shirt. Blue pants. What about the killer’s behavior toward the patient? She moved to peel off Reached out for sick woman? Woman’s lover? She lowered her hands. Those would still work, even if the guy was religious. In fact, Holy Rollers could be the most convincing actors, leading double lives and keeping lovers.

Read Numbers. Read another book. She had no idea what the second book was, but the Franciscan had educated her on the first. She snatched the square off the wall and crumpled it. On a fresh sheet, she hastily scrawled, Read Bible passage from Numbers and pressed it back onto the Sheetrock.

She took a step back and planted her hands on her hips. The new addition to the wall was vital. The killer was more than simply religious. He’d read the book at length, lingering over it. Who would do that? Her hands grew cold as the answer came to her. That couldn’t be who had followed her to the funeral-home parking lot—or could it?

Why would a member of the religious community kill people and hack off their hands? A youthful memory drifted into her head, something from Sunday school. A verse every Christian would recognize. Was the name of a pastor buried in her unread Olson files? Had she missed the mention of a minister during her read of the Archer case? She turned and stared at the folders piled across the room, on her kitchen table. With the help of the Franciscan, she could now think clearly enough to find the answer—one clergyman helping her nail another one. “Thanks, Father,” she muttered.

The phone rang, jarring her out of her trance. She went over to the kitchen counter, picked it up, and answered distractedly. “Yeah?”

“What have you been doing all morning?” Garcia paused and then answered his own question: “The Post-its. Stop wasting time on—”

She interrupted him. “Our guy isn’t a medical professional after all.”

“Who is it, then?”

She hadn’t fixed on a specific faith, and surprised herself with the two words that popped out of her mouth. “Catholic priest.”

Dead air on Garcia’s end, and then: “I’m coming over.”

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