Chapter 591

For the first time, the killer had a face.

Perched on the edge of his couch, Conner stared at the two sketches in his hands. The light from the floor lamp beside the couch threw a soft glare on the portraits. They were good. Malomond had come through as promised, meeting with the police artist within three hours of Conner’s visit and providing a detailed, cop’s description, albeit one based on memories several months old. The first sketch showed the killer with long hair and a thick beard, the way he looked when he practiced at Malomond’s range. With the dark hair and beard covering much of his face, Conner thought he looked a bit like Charlie Manson, with one notable exception. In every photo he’d ever seen of Manson, the man’s eyes were fixed in a crazed, fanatical stare that let you know right away something was wrong inside him, that the wiring in his brain was different from other men. The Video Killer bore no such look. He looked tough, sure, but you could pass him on the street