Talia processed all that. “How does this help you?”

“It links the two homicides, Elaine’s and Sara Barker’s. It’s a telltale signature that I never had before, because there has never been a corpse before. Until Marian Harris.” He gave Talia a sharp look, then left the bedroom and clambered down the stairs, snatched his phone up off the bar, and called Mike. When he answered, Drex said, “He takes a button.”

“Come again?”

Sputtering in his haste to get it out, Drex told him of his discovery.

“Possible coincidence,” Mike said.

“It’s possible for me to be voted pope, but how likely is it? Did that deputy in Key West send you the coroner’s report on Marian Harris?”

“We never asked for it.”

“Shit! You’re right. Gray—that’s his name—mentioned the decomposition of the remains. I was focused on the atrocity, and then on getting that party pic enhanced. I’ll call him now. If Marian was clothed when the creep buried her, forensics would have a description of the garments, even if they were partially disintegrated. The report would include the detail of a missing button.”

“You hope.”

“I hope. But this feels right, Mike. If we can connect Marian’s murder to these most recent two, Rudkowski can’t deny that we’re chasing a serial killer. If he does, we’ll jump the chain.”

“But you’ve still got to prove that Jasper Ford is the creep.”

“One step at a time. This is a leap. Stay handy. I’m putting in a call to that deputy now.”

Talia came downstairs as he was rifling through his duffel bag looking for the cell phone that had Gray’s phone number logged. Her hair was still wet from the shower. She smelled of the gel, the scent of which would forever call to mind that erotic experience.

As she walked past him on her way into the kitchen, he said, “By the way, good morning back,” and leaned over for a quick kiss on the mouth, then resumed replacing a battery in the cell phone.

Talia said, “Jasper had his buttons switched out recently so he could take all of the trophy ones with him when he disappeared.”

“That’s my theory. They’re small, portable.”

“When he moves on, he’ll have them sewn onto other clothes, adding the newest two.”

“He would, but he’s not going to move on, Talia.” He clicked on the back of the phone. “He’s not getting away this time.”

He pulled up the number of the sheriff’s office in Key West and hoped to God Gray was on duty. When the main line was answered, he asked for him and, while he waited, watched Talia make herself a cup of coffee. Her hands were shaky. When she turned to face him, he said, “You okay?”

Her smile was tentative. “Yes. It’s just that this pushes it beyond speculation. It’s become very real.”

“I know.” He went over to her and stroked her face. “I’m sorry.”

She covered his hand with hers, holding it against her cheek. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry at all.” He gave her another tender kiss, then righted the barstool and guided her onto it.

“This is Deputy Gray.”

Drex jerked his attention back to the phone call. “Gray, it’s Special Agent Easton.”

After a brief silence that teemed with resentment, the young deputy said, “Agent Rudkowski called me about half an hour ago. He told me all about you and what you’ve done. I can’t talk to you.”

“Deputy—”

“Sorry.”

“Gray! Don’t hang up. Listen. I need—”

“I can’t talk to you.” He was emphatic, but spoke in an undertone, as though afraid of being overheard. “I’ve been warned by the FBI not to talk to you, or send anything to you. Rudkowski also reported all this to my sergeant, who is furious.”

“Okay. Busted. I manipulated you, and my tactics have been questionable.”

“Questionable? Did you really run off with a material witness?”

“Yes, in order to try and save her life. I don’t want her to meet a fate similar to Marian Harris’s. Which is why I’m calling. I think I’ve found a link between—”

“You’re not hearing me, Easton. You have no authorization. I can’t help you.”

“All I’m asking is that you send me the coroner’s report on Marian Harris.”

“That report is exempt from public disclosure because the criminal investigation is ongoing.”

“That sounds memorized.”

“It was. Rudkowski suggested it, so I’d have a reply if you had the gall to contact me again.”

Drex spat out an expletive, but he forced himself to remain calm. Being overbearing wasn’t going to work on Gray, who had been cowed by pressure coming at him from all sides. At any other time, Drex would feel bad for having exploited the green officer’s initial willingness to help.

He said, “All right. I understand your reluctance to send it to me. Instead, send it to Agent Mallory. Remember him? You sent him—”

“Rudkowski said I wasn’t to feed him anything, either. Or somebody named Lewis. He said you three have formed a league of your own. That you’re impeding two homicide investigations. He also told me that this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled illegal and unethical stunts.”

Drex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Will you at least read through that report, and then let me ask you some questions pertaining to it?”

“I. Can’t. Talk. To. You.”

“I’m not asking you to talk. A simple yes or no. In fact, you don’t even have to speak. You could cough. Once for yes, twice for no.”

“Rudkowski said you’d turn it into a game of some kind or another.”

“I’ll limit it to one question. One. That’s all. Will you do that much?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Lives are at risk, Deputy Gray.”

“Rudkowski told me you’d say that, too. He said you’re—”

“I’m…?”

“Delusional.”

“Do you think so?” The deputy remained silent. Drex said, “I suppose you were also instructed to pass along this phone number if I called, so Rudkowski can use it to locate me.”

Drex heard him swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Easton,” he said and hung up.

“Michael Mallory?”

Mike was in the process of trying to hack the police report on last night’s murder of Sara Barker. He looked up, expecting to see someone on the hospital staff. Instead, facing him were two uniformed sheriff’s deputies, one of each gender.

He closed his laptop. “That’s me.”

“We’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Check with detectives Locke and Menundez, Charleston PD. They know all about it. The man attacked last night at Waterfront is my friend. I have their permission to keep vigil.”

“Maybe. But it was an FBI Agent Rudkowski who told us where to start looking for you.”

Mike didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, you found me.”

“Do you know a Sammy Markson? Also known as—”