CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Seeing Jane Seymour’s freshly killed body and having to confront Jack all in the span of two hours had taken its toll on Avery. She left Jack’s house (not bothering to give Trisha even the slightest of glances on her way out) and headed back into the city. Before she was even off of Jack’s street, she realized that she had nowhere to go. Maybe O’Malley had been right: maybe she was temporarily homeless.
She called O’Malley and he answered right away. “How’s Jack?” he asked.
“Alive. And having a very fun afternoon, I might add. How are things on your end?”
“We’ve got a section of the city blocked off—a six-block radius, with Seymour and Fitch in the center. But it’s not looking good. This guy works fast. We did find some sort of fluid on the headrest of Jane’s car, th
