Furious. God, how furious she was. She walked through the living room with her hands on her hips like a raging lynx. Her furry friend watched her casually from the armchair in which he lay curled up. It was already late at night, and she still couldn't calm down about Sebastian and the whole case. Who does he think he is?

She dug into the spot next to the couch and realized how much her palate was itchy and stinging at the same time. She had to drink something quickly. Something alcoholic whose taste will wash the anger out of her body and leave her lying dull on the couch without a shred of emotion. Like her favorite red wine. No, she needed something stronger. Whiskey. That will solve things.

She walked to the cupboard, which contained all the fine and strong alcohol in which she drowned her feelings occasionally. She pulled out an expensive, barely open bottle of whiskey that she had received from her and Andrej's college friends when they announced their engagement. She looked sadly at the bottle she held and thought about them. The anger subsided for a moment as melancholy prevailed in her chest. How much she just missed that time when everything was different. It has been more than a year now since she lost all contact with those same friends. She didn't want anything to remind her of Andrej because it all caused her even more pain. Selfish, isn't it? Give up on what Andrej would live forever for. All of them selfishly kept the love for him and the memories they shared together by themselves. Bitterness is a dangerous thing; it makes you dig wounds that could have healed a long time ago.

She slowly got to her feet, pulled a glass out of the cupboard in the kitchen, and poured a large amount of brownish liquid into it, adding two ice cubes. Just as she approached the glass with her lips and its sharp, intoxicating smell tickled her nostrils, she heard a loud knock on the door. Thomas. His name flickered in her mind like a gentle ray of sunshine. She was expecting him. Moreover, she was the one who invited him over. She knew she had to talk to someone about what happened today, and now she didn't know a better person than the charming detective in the leather jacket. Who would have thought that she would find solace in the person she worked with on the case? There are strange paths that lead us through life.

Still with a glass in her hand, she approached the door and lethargically opened it. Her tired eyes met the visibly lively eyes of the handsome detective. He pursed his lips with a faint smile and nodded in greeting. She didn't have the strength to greet him and just moved to let him inside her home, which hadn't been home for a long time. His gaze flew to the glass she held in her hands, and his eyebrows twitched with interest.

"I seem to have missed the party," he concluded, smiling. Scarlett reluctantly started walking around the room again as he settled into the couch opposite Felix, who purred calmly. He studied her curiously. Looks like you can kick a man out of a detective, but never a detective out of a man. "I'd say I missed something."

He added, as she greedily in one shot poured the liquid that burned inside her. She sighed loudly and felt an instant relief. The tension she felt in her shoulders eased her for a moment.

"Do you know how angry I am right now? I can't even describe to you how much this case and Sebastian himself go on every nerve in my body.''

She began to chatter as if curled up as Thomas watched her intently, leaning back on the couch.

"I guess it didn't go very well," he concluded.

''No it didn't.''

"Honestly, since I'm aware of how much he likes to play with all of us, I'm not particularly surprised by such an outcome."

She grabbed the root of her nose and closed her eyes, and the familiar warmth spread through her womb. "At least tell me you have some good news," her voice was almost pleading. "Is there any new news? Especially from an autopsy? "

"Unfortunately, not really. The autopsy report will be ready by the end of the week. "

''Damn it.''

"I know," Thomas said. "But if we look at it from a brighter side, at least we won't have to wait for the report for weeks. I don't know how knowledgeable you are, but usually those things are waited for up to six weeks. "

"It still doesn't comfort me."

"Unfortunately, they may have to."

"How are you always so calm?" She asked him in vain. His lips disappeared in a thin line that now adorned his face.

"I guess it's something you learn over time in this business," his serious yet casual tone seemed to her like the most beautiful song of birds. "You realize that you can't get anything right away on the plate. You have to fight and work on everything patiently. There is nothing you can do about it. "

''Makes sense.''

"I don't know about you, but it does to me," he said, shrugging. "It's one of the things that makes me do this job the way I should."

''That's nice to hear.''

"And now, though I say it reluctantly, shall we return to Sebastian? What did he tell you this morning when you visited him?"

Just as she sat down next to him on the couch and parted her lips to begin with her famous meeting with Sebastian, a doorbell interrupted her. They both had the same surprised expression on their faces. Thomas looked at her questioningly, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you expecting someone else?"

"No, I don't think so," she shook her head. "Believe me, no one visits me."

"Well, he's obviously visiting you now," he sneered, and she unconsciously handed him her empty glass, and headed for the door.

Opening the door, she realized that her surprise had no end. It was George Wilson. His face was swollen with fatigue and she could see the sweat stains on his shirt. It was a rarely known sight for her because she was usually in sleek expensive suits. However, sometimes, when he worked on a serious case, he also knew how to be stuck in the office all night. As much as it got on her nerves, he was an exceptional psychiatrist. There was simply nothing to dispute.

"George."

"Scarlett," he replied.

"I wasn't expecting you," she said. "Did something happen?"

"Yes, it happened," he nodded nervously. ''Can I come in?''

She refrained from answering for a few seconds, and then realized she had no choice but to accept. "Yes, I suppose."

As soon as he saw Detective Calligan sitting on the couch with an empty glass in his hand, he stopped and gave her a significant look.

"I see you have company," she said in a voice so hoarse that she believed so many cigarettes took their toll. "Thomas, I'm sorry to interrupt."

Thomas stood up and they shook hands cordially. At least it was cordial on Thomas' part. George was tense, and even though he skillfully hid it, Scarlett could see his back visibly stiff under his azure blue shirt.

"Nice to see you, George."

"Yes, yes, you too," he said casually. "Scarlett, we need to talk urgently."

She glanced briefly at Thomas, and then folded her arms across her chest. "All right, go ahead."

"Can we talk in private? Nothing personal, Tom. "

Just as he started to pick up his jacket, which he had taken off a few moments before, Scarlett stopped him. "No, Thomas, there's no need to leave or anything. He will hear what it is about. "

It was obvious on George's face that he didn't really approve of her decision, but he decided to agree to talk under such conditions. Then he started spitting poisonous stings that Scarlett would not avoid so easily.

"I spoke to Paul Maynard and he told me one extraordinary thing. I didn't know that we, psychiatrists, started playing board games inside the cells with our patients," he said angrily. "Is that true, Scarlett?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Thomas putting his hands on his hips and silently forming the word "Seriously?" with his lips, trying not to burst out laughing.

"Yes, it is," she said shortly.

''I think I told you not to approach a patient that way, Scarlett. Especially not him. It is dangerous - and certainly, will affect your assessment. I figured I wouldn't have to tell you that more than once. Looks like I was wrong. "

"It was for the purpose of getting an answer from him. I had to approach him. That was only way to do it. I believed, and I still believe, that I will not get all the answers from him through a mere professional examination. "

"It is unprofessional, unethical and reckless on your part. You must not do such things. He is not a sick friend of yours who was temporarily in the hospital for treatment, so during the visit you play board games to kill time," he gestured with his hands in the air. ''First of all, you shouldn't enter his cell at all."

"You don't understand that, George. I talk to him every day. He does not function like all other patients, his mind is different. He does not answer questions or cooperate in any way if you are like a stone near him. He wants a living person, of flesh and blood, who will talk to him like a normal person. Someone who will not condemn him for what he did, but approach him as a person he never had. As a friend.''

He watched her in disbelief for a few moments as sparks flashed from his eyes. If the sight could have killed her, he would have done that on the spot.

"Do you hear yourself saying that? That's not normal," his voice grew louder, and Felix was scared and quickly disappeared into Scarlett's bedroom. He sighed loudly after a few moments of silence, as if weighing around something he wanted to tell her. "That's it, I decided. This exceeded all measures. You have become too close, Scarlett. I told you not to make your relationship personal because you will ruin everything. "

Although he hadn't said it yet, she knew exactly what was to come. It crossed her mind how glad she was to drink that whiskey, as if she knew her heart would otherwise end up on the floor from too many beats per minute.

"You're off the case."

"Hey, hey, hey," Thomas interjected, flapping his arms and approaching George, who had his back to him all the time. "This has now crossed certain boundaries."

"With all due respect, Thomas, you are not the one setting the boundaries in this. I am,'' he pointed his index finger at his chest as he watched him with inflamed eyes. His face was so red that Scarlett was afraid he would explode at any moment. "I'm in charge of her."

"In fact, I am the one setting the boundaries," Thomas replied defiantly. She could feel the dose of testosterone in the room accumulating more and more hour by hour, and this scene reminded her so much of the documentary about two alpha males of Bengal tigers that she watched a few years ago. It was a matter of time before these two tigers would jump on each other in the middle of her living room. "I am the one working with her on the case. As far as memory serves me, George, you and I no longer cooperate. At least not in this case. Because you gladly got rid of it and forwarded it to your protégé. Remind me, am I right? "

He silently analyzed his face for a few moments. Scarlett believed that George was thinking of knocking him out in the middle of his face. She would have burst out laughing if she had not known the seriousness of this situation.

"You know what? I don't care, do what you want. You are jeopardizing your investigation, not mine, " he said angrily, walking towards the front door. "When you realize I was right, don't scratch my door to help you."

"Believe me, George, we won't," he patted him on the back a little harder, almost friendly, although it was obvious that there was nothing friendly about it. "Scarlett is doing a great job. And unlike you, she doesn't give up when he encounters an obstacle. "

George opened his mouth to say something else, but Thomas overtook him by opening the front door and gallantly kicking him out of the apartment.

"Goodbye, George. It was nice to talk to you, " and then he slammed the door in front of his nose, leaving him in the hallway staring at it in bewilderment. He turned to Scarlett and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly,

"Well, that was tense."

"Thank you," she said defeated, yet relieved. "You have no idea how sorry I am that you stayed and still had to stand in my defense."

"I didn't have to do anything," he found himself in front of her as their faces were separated by an extremely short distance. "I just told the truth. I really think you're doing a damn good job. And I am glad you're following your instinct. Admittedly, I can't say that I think some of your methods are a little crazy, but ... I can't discuss it. Probably some older detective before me thought that I do some things in a way that he does not approve of, but a very rare number of things are universal in life. Remember it.''

"Wow, you've become very wise tonight," she teased. Scarlett believed that relaxation came from good, old whiskey.

"Yeah, I guess you're getting that out of me," he laughed in a way that made her whole body flicker like a light bulb that would burn out at any moment. "Where were we?"

"At Sebastian's confession," she sighed, returning to reality.

"And?"

"He said he stopped counting after the tenth victim."

"That's horrifying," he threw himself on the couch, then covered his face in shock with his hands. "That means there are many that we haven't found. So many young women have lost the opportunity to live the life they deserve. "

''Exactly.''

"Did he at least agree to say all the names?"

"No," she shook her head. "He said he did not want to talk to the police at all. He thinks it's a waste of time and doesn't gain anything from it. "

"That damn bastard," he cursed nervously in his chin. "We will never be able to shed light on the whole case."

"Hey, aren't you the optimist?"

He looked at her gently, but with pain, as if he really felt the pain of every family that lost its mother, daughter or sister by this bloodthirsty killer.

"I guess so," he said quietly. "I just don't know if it will pay off in this case."

For a moment, she bit her lip in a dilemma whether to ask him what had been bothering her all day, and he, of course, noticed that.

''Something is wrong?''

"No, it's just ... there's one thing he said that doesn't suit me at all," his eyes twinkled with interest and his eyebrows twitched.

''What is it?''

"I tried to manipulate him to get answers, as if it was possible to do it so imperceptibly to someone like him, and I told him that we had evidence against him. He told me completely carelessly that, if that were true, I would not be visiting him at all. "

"Maybe he was trying to play with you, too."

"Maybe," she sighed. "That's what I thought, but my stubborn brain doesn't want to agree with that fact and not give me peace."

''I know that feeling.''

"But I'm interested in one thing, Thomas. You said the murders you are prosecuting him for were relatively recent. A year, a year and a half, right? "

''Yes, that's right.''

"How did you connect him to those bodies in the first place?"

"Surprisingly, very easy," he replied. "With their corpses were buried their ID cards with his prints on them."

For Scarlett, it was a fascinating discovery. How was it possible she hadn't asked that before?

"Then why do you suspect that the other victims were also his? Didn't they have their ID cards? "

"No, there were no ID cards, but it was the same way of killing. At first, we thought it might be a plagiarist, but that was simply not possible because no one knew about the killings until that moment. "

"It's very interesting," she admitted. "Then how is it possible that you managed to connect him only with the latest cases?"

"He may have become sloppier. He has already become more cocky, it was possible for him to go unpunished for so long. "

"I doubt it," she shook her head. "Did you see his cell? He is extremely neat. God, he even thinks ahead and carefully chooses every word he utters. I doubt that he did it out of negligence. "

"Maybe he was just making fun of us and thought we wouldn't find out."

"But he left fingerprints, he wouldn't do that."

"I agree, but the evidence is indisputable."

"Yes, but maybe it's not a coincidence."

Thomas thought about her words, parting his lips slightly and quickly crossing his chin with his right palm.

"Are you telling me you think he did it on purpose?" He asked excitedly. "You think he wanted us to catch him?"

"Yes, Thomas," she felt her indescribable excitement circulate through her bloodstream and pass through her entire body. "That's exactly what I think."