Shadowheart by Meg Gardiner

Author:Meg Gardiner [Gardiner, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2024-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

30

Transit police and NYPD precinct cops were swarming the subway platform. The young mother who had been knocked to the concrete sat on a bench while paramedics checked her vital signs. Her little boy sat beside her, clinging to her sleeve.

“I’m okay, really,” the woman said. “Where’s the stroller?”

It was the fifth time she had asked. The stroller had disintegrated when the incoming train hit it, and the paramedics were going to transport her to the emergency room with a concussion.

At the end of the platform, Detective Tashjian jogged down the stairs.

Caitlin’s adrenaline jag had subsided, leaving her spent. But when she saw Brianne Rainey follow Tashjian down the stairs, she revived.

Caitlin gave the little boy a last look. He blinked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. His face was streaked with grease. She suppressed a resurgent spark of fear, waved goodbye, and headed up the platform.

Tashjian looked grim. His hat was tilted back on his head. His suit jacket flared as he walked up to her. “What happened?”

“Diversion. The killer tried to use a little boy as a human sacrifice.”

He set his hands on his hips, disgusted.

Rainey’s expression was buttoned down, but she had heat in her eyes. She looked Caitlin up and down and took in the grease stains on her knees and palms.

“You rock and roll?” she said.

“The killer shoved a stroller onto the tracks.” Caitlin nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s talk outside.”

They climbed to the street, where a knot of NYPD blue-and-whites and a black FBI SUV filled an intersection. The street was made up of delis, bodegas, brick apartment buildings with fire escapes, a redbrick Catholic church with a looming spire. The afternoon sky was ripening to orange in the west. Pedestrians passed them, curious or deliberately uncurious, speeding by. The air had weight, heat, a breeze that couldn’t chase away the humidity.

Tashjian turned to Caitlin. “I kept shouting to you.”

Was he angry? Frustrated? Or had he actually feared she had gone down? “Next time, I’ll narrate the pursuit in real time. Apologies, Detective.”

He frowned, as if he didn’t know whether she was joking. She didn’t, either.

Rainey said, “I just got here. I’ve heard zip. Give me the highlights.”

“The copycat’s a woman,” Caitlin said.

Rainey’s eyebrows rose.

“Some things are clear that didn’t make sense earlier,” Caitlin said. “Tashjian—when we saw the original night-vision video of the copycat, I told you that something felt off to me. Now I know why. The killer’s presentation was an act. The masculinity was a disguise.”

Tashjian stared at the ground. After a second, he nodded. “You don’t think this unsub is trans? Nonbinary?”

“I don’t know anything for certain. I’m giving you fleeting impressions.” She looked at her palms, blackened with grease, and tried to wipe some of it off. “The killer seemed committed to her—their, I don’t know—public presentation. The projection of . . .”

She saw it.

“Forceful dominance. She was projecting forceful dominance.”

“You said the same of Goode,” Rainey said.

“Yes. Though his is organic. It reeks from his pores. From his psyche.

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