Autopsy of a Mind

I tapped my finger against the ground. 

"Do you think he orchestrated it?" I found myself saying. 

"How so?" he demanded. 

"I just… I thought it was strange that I got the tickets on the day of the show. Everyone kept saying how they booked weeks and months in advance and I got two tickets at market price on the day of the show… from a third-party seller." I looked at the letters. "He was watching us and somehow knew you were interested. Maybe he wanted to get a closer glance at you and ended up seeing me. And he got interested."

"Possible. What else?"

"He thinks we have some sort of romantic connection. I just don't know how he got this idea." That freaked me out the most. 

"It means that none of us are in harm," Sebastian told me firmly. "Now, we have a clue on our hands. We can find him. He came to our doorstep several times."

I could see that he was trying to recall his face. "Do you remember how he looked?"

He nodded vaguely. "Partially. But the restaurant that he worked for… they would remember," he assured.

But the world didn't stop for us to figure out the mystery. We changed and drove to the office. On the way there, I called the restaurant. 

"Hi, I am one of your customers and was wondering if you could give me information on one of your delivery partners," I spoke softly into the phone. I tried to sound reliable. 

"Information on our delivery person? I'm sorry ma'am, I can't give you that information. Might I ask what this is about?" The other person said. "I could call the manager if you want."

I thought about it for a second. "Thank you. Can you please hand the phone to the manager? I need this information urgently." I couldn't say that this was part of the investigation because we didn't have solid proof that there was even an accomplice in the first place. Therefore, this I would have to ask about as a civilian. 

I heard whispering on the other side and finally, someone cleared their throat and spoke. 

"Hello?" it was a female. 

"Hi, I am a regular customer of your business. I needed some information about a delivery person who has been coming to our house for some time," I repeated. 

She asked for my information and I gave her Sebastian and my name and our address. She went silent for a second. 

"What seems to be the problem?" she asked, more silent than before. 

"I received some weird parcels from him. My neighbor recognized who he was. I was wondering if I could talk to him or have a way to contact him."

"I apologize if he was rude or made you uncomfortable." Another pause. "But he quit the job a few days ago. He didn't even give a notice period and said he was moving away," she explained in a frantic. 

"Please don't apologize on his behalf. I am not going to hold your establishment accountable for something he did. I just want his information. Can you give me a name, his contact information, and any address that you have on him?" I asked finally. 

"I can give you his name but not the contact information," he said quietly.

"Right," I agreed. "What is his name?"

"Uh, his name is Nicholas Burton," she said finally. 

I paused. "Are you sure?" I couldn't help but whisper. 

"Yes. I have his information, too. It checked out, ma'am."

"Thank you. Thanks a lot. I appreciate your help." I hung up and turned to Sebastian. 

"What's his name?" Sebastian asked. "But I can see that it is not his real name from your expression." He grew worried. 

"Nicholas Burton," I said. 

He sucked in a deep breath. "And she was absolutely sure…" he trailed off. "Nicholas Burton is dead. He killed himself and we found his body. So, someone is using his identity to contact you." He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. 

"I think we can do something about this," he said finally. "We will submit the letter to forensics, get a report signing off that it is the same person as the McCain case and get a search done it. We can look at all the footage the restaurant has. The traffic cameras. Everything. He will be caught on something or the other."

I highly doubted it. 

We arrived at the station and made our way in. The greetings were many and everyone seemed to smile at me. 

"How was the conference?" Nash asked me when I entered.

"It was enlightening," I told him glumly.

Nash looked puzzled. "It couldn't have been more enlightening than the information I am about to give you," he prompted.

"What is it?" I asked, feeling my heart sink. No good news could come at this point. 

"The phones he used were burner phones. We couldn't get a hold of any information on who he was. Nothing to track him." He paused. "Now, I know you will ask about the bank account. You won't believe who it is!" He didn't look excited though. 

"Should I take a guess?" I sighed. 

"You'll be wrong," Nash insisted. 

"I hope so," I grumbled. "Is it someone by the name of Nicholas Burton?"

His eyes widened. "How did you know that?" he asked, confused. 

"He's dead. He was the only living victim of the Elegant Butcher apart from me. He killed himself recently." Nash's jaw dropped. "This accomplice has been using his identity to hover around me."

I sat down on my desk. "Wait. You are telling me… a dead guy's bank was used to make transactions and he is someone you know?"

"Yes, he tried to kill me after I helped the rest escape. I didn't know this until Sebastian told me about what happened. I have no recollection of those things," I admitted. 

"Then he is definitely targeting you. All those goading clues were meant for you…" he was going off into a thought process of his own. "But how did you find out about this?" he asked. 

"Got a letter this morning. It had been dropped off with the elderly woman who lives across from me. There was a letter inside with a picture of Sebastian and me on our date," I informed him. 

"And the date was where? We could know who he is, right?"

I shook my head. "We were in a location inside the forest. Off the highway. No cameras. The guy hid in the forest and took pictures of us." 

I felt like crying at that point. 

"And he was someone who frequented your house… plumber, technician, security guard… what was he playing?"

"He delivered food."

Nash stopped. "The food Sebastian brought over for breakfast?" he shouted. 

"Yeah. If it was poisoned, we wouldn't have survived so long. Sebastian thinks he doesn't want to physically harm any of us."

"But you don't think the same," Nash concluded. 

"I feel like he is up to something more sinister. His letter said something about me going out on dates with someone else. Like… he thought we were romantically compatible or would end up together."

Nash scowled. "I have seen his writing and the style of his work… he is not delusional from my assessment. And he is not trying to mislead us. Just evading us from finding out who he is. But he wants to meet you." 

"And he has met me. Seen me from up close and done nothing."

"He has seen you in the presence of others. But this implies that you have had some sort of interaction with him that would seem like a potential date to him." His analysis was astute. 

"I have never dated before Sebastian. I haven't even had dinners with men." I shrugged. 

"Okay… I need to think about this. No one?" I shook my head. 

"And what happened at the conference? What information did you get?"

I felt my throat clench once again. "I met Ross Reynolds, the detective who investigated the Elegant Butcher case after my father was killed. He said there was a huge coverup, that there were signs of an accomplice helping Alicia with the murders and cleanup. That's why it was so hard to trace."

Nash pressed his lips together. "This should be confidential information!" He shook his head. "Okay, I won't speak about this to anyone. But the accomplice… we have no idea who it is."

"But the timing… it grates on my nerves," I admitted. 

"Brazen, has inside knowledge on working of crime-related issues, evades detection, god-complex…" he was listing out things. "The accomplice would have the same modus operandi as the one we are looking at right now. The need to inspire and help budding killers to reveal their true identity."

I blinked. "Why didn't I make the connection?" I whispered. 

"Why didn't you?" he asked incredulously. "Sebastian didn't see it either?" he whispered. 

"I think… I think we were just too overwhelmed with everything."

Nash tapped his fingers down. "Let's analyze everything we have and catch this guy, Evie." He looked deeply at me. "And don't be scared, as your mentor, I will not let anyone harm you."

I smiled. But both of us knew that I didn't believe that.