He tattoos his victims and puts them on display for the world to see, but in the end, there's only one person on his mind.
A serial killer is targeting patients from Dr. Skye Barrie's psychotherapy practice in New York City. NYPD Detective Diaz wants to keep the case quiet in order to catch the murderer, but when a third patient is found dead, Skye decides to shut down her practice and inform her clients they are in danger. In order to protect her patients, she flies to London with the expectation the murdExerer will follow. Back in the familiar university town where she studied psychotherapy, can Skye identify the man the London news dub the Tarot Killer before he strikes again?
Alive, she had lived like the dead, trapped within the confines of her mind, unable to venture beyond her doorstep. Dead, she appeared free, her hair floating around her upturned face in the breeze and her arms reaching toward the sky. At first glance, I didn’t see the fishing line cutting into the flesh of her wrists suspending her from the fire escape. Even the blood was minimal. Up close, though, those lines weren’t so invisible, glinting in the afternoon sun. I stood in her gently swaying shadow, watching her move with each caress of the wind.
Her feet dangled only inches above my head, and when I looked up, I saw what I was supposed to see, what he wanted me to see, an angel dressed in a white robe, hovering above me like a messenger from God. I focused on Maria’s dangling feet. Tattooed on the sole of her left foot was the Roman numeral fourteen, XIV. It was a fresh tattoo judging from the red-tinged glow around the edges. Penned less than two days ago, the medical examiner had said as I walked up. She was alive for two days after he tattooed her. The terror she must have felt rattled my core.
A hand settled on my shoulder. I knew who it was before he spoke. “It’s not your fault.” It was Diaz, the lead detective on the case. “That’s what these guys do. They fixate on an idea and don’t let go until their obsession either gets them caught or killed.”
“I know what these guys do,” I said.
“It’s not your fault, Skye. You couldn’t have known she was next.”
“But I knew someone would be next, right? Someone who trusted me.”
His hand slid off my shoulder as he tried to think of something else to say, but nothing he could say would bring her back. Maria had come to me because she wanted a better life. I shouldn’t have kept this a secret from her. I betrayed her trust, and now she was dead.