“And maybe the Paul Martinez he knows is the happy-go-lucky, generous one, the one that doesn’t seem at all bothered by the war,” Michael continued.
“He can’t kill Dr.Winters,” Faith said.“Too many people would wonder about him since he made that comment and clearly didn’t like her.”
“But he’s angry, and he’s tired of being reminded that he’s a failure while others succeed,” Michael continued again.“So he kills Paul and dumps his body right in Anna’s dig site so that all of the attention that was supposed to go to her findings now goes to the dead body her team also found.”
“That’s not extremely far-fetched,” Faith said.
“Is it a little far-fetched?”he asked.
“Maybe.Maybe not.Either way, there’s enough there to be worth paying Mr.Furlong a visit.”
“I very much agree.”His smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern.“Are you sure you’re all right, though?I haven’t heard you scream like that since… Well, actually…”
He cut himself off, but it was too late.Faith saw his eyes flick to Turk.She smiled to hide the tension in her jaw.“I’m fine.No big deal.Just a dream.Let’s talk to James Furlong and see just how angry he was.”
“All right,” Michael he said, “You got it.”
Faith couldn’t do anything about the latest serial killer to haunt her nightmares, but she could do something about Paul Martinez’s killer.That would be enough to banish the cobwebs of anxiety from her mind and help her focus fully on the Messenger when the time came.
CHAPTER TEN
The New York State University campus in Delhi was—like the county building the day before—many different things rolled into one.It was about the same size as the county building and contained an administration wing, admission offices, a nurse’s office and a mental health counselor’s suite, a single lab that looked like it served the needs of several different applied sciences, and a half-dozen classrooms no doubt used by several of the different programs offered by the university.
James Furlong was one half of the Archaeology Department at the campus.The other half, of course, was Dr.Winters.Dr.Furlong was the opposite of Dr.Winters in just about every way.Anna was tall and statuesque with movie-star features, a kind but strong personality and a genuine empathy for others.What they knew of James so far suggested that he was a stereotypically irritable academic misanthrope, and what they could see of him—Faith hated to say it—wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes.
When Furlong saw the agents, his beady eyes narrowed, and his face pinched into a scowl.Faith could tell already that this was going to be an interesting conversation.
“Who said you could come in here?”he barked when the three agents stepped into his office.“And you brought a dog?Are you serious?There are artifacts in here that are hundreds of years old.”
“In your office?”Michael asked.
“Where do you keep things that you work on?”James sneered.
Faith decided to nip his bad attitude in the bud.“I’m Special Agent Faith Bold, FBI.This is Special Agent Michael Prince.Special Agent, by the way, is an excellent way to address us.This is our K9 unit, Turk.You don’t have to talk to him, but you should be aware that he’s not very fond of assholes.”
James blinked, stunned but also confused.“What?What the hell is this about?”
“The murder of Paul Martinez.”
“Paul Martin… Ah.”
His demeanor changed.He sighed and dropped into a high-backed desk chair that squealed in protest at the sudden weight.“Now I get it.”
“Get what?”
James sighed.“Well, this isn’t a very big community.He and I were both veterans, and I can’t imagine that anyone seemed to have it in for him.By all accounts, he was very popular.”
“Did you know him?”Michael asked.
“No.I knewofhim because the paper runs a special on military veterans in the community every year, and he featured prominently this year.”James chuckled.“I got a three-sentence blurb, and he got an article.You guys can come inside, by the way.”
The three of them entered the small, crowded office.As James warned, the office was filled with objects ranging from small hand-carved figurines to shards of pottery to bits of cloth.All of the objects were encased in glass with notes written near them explaining what they were and where and when they had been found.
“You must have been frustrated to see that,” Michael said, referring to the article.“After all, you fought just as hard as he did.”
James chuckled bitterly.“Well, theDailyprobably thought a story about being lured into an ambush and watching my entire platoon get cut to pieces wasn’t exactly an inspiring one.Not that I blame them.I’d much rather read about the decorated Combat Controller who made sure that people like me had air support when they needed it.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know Paul,” Faith said.
