Free The Frenzy Way by Gregory Lamberson Page A

matched his dirty white shirt. Mace found him fat, lazy, and cynical, a veteran who had been on the force too long.
    “Yeah, do we have to listen to this bullshit, Tony?”
    Mace refrained from sighing. He didn’t mind when his detectivesused his first name in private conversations, but he found it disrespectful in the context of a squad meeting.
    Patty crossed her arms. “You have to listen if you’re going to help on the case, Weeds. The perp left that term on a wall of vic number two’s apartment. We need to know what’s going through his head.”
    Weeds rolled his eyes. “This is some kind of elaborate hoax.”
    “Sure, the fairy-tale aspects are. But an old man and a young woman were literally torn to pieces in our jurisdiction. In each case, the vic’s head was nowhere to be found. That sound like a hoax to you? View the crime scene video.”
    Weeds looked down at his desk like a scolded schoolchild, his jaw tightening.
    Mace said, “Willy, run down Sarah Harper’s stats.”
    Willy opened a folder and read from its contents. “‘Sarah Bridget Harper, age twenty-one. Grew up in Hartford, Connecticut. Third year at NYU—art history major. She took Glenzer’s class as an elective. No steady boyfriend. Survived by her parents and two sisters.”’
    “The other thing linking these murders,” Mace said, “is that each one occurred at night during a full moon. Tonight is the third and final full moon of this cycle. If our perp strikes again—and we have no reason to believe he won’t—he just might disappear for a whole month, like Rodrigo Gomez did. To prevent that from happening, we need to know if there’s a stronger connection between Glenzer and Harper.”
    Patty said, “I want the teams who interviewed Glenzer’s students from this semester to re-interview those same students today. Get their take on Sarah.”
    Groans filled the room.
    Mace said, “The coroner will be working on both victims all week, so don’t expect any helpful tips from them immediately. Landry, we’ve got two werewolf references now. I want you to put together a glossary in case we get another message.”
    Landry noted Mace’s directive.
    Patty eyed the men. “Share nothing—and I mean
nothing
—with the press, or your ass will be mine.”
    Muted chortles.
    An edge crept into Mace’s voice. “If I learn of anyone in this squad leaking information, I’ll have their shield. Don’t doubt it for one minute.”
    Patty said, “You’re bound to encounter citizens who are understandably curious about our perp’s fascination with supernatural monsters. Don’t feed that curiosity. Don’t even joke to each other that we’re regarding these messages as anything other than an attempt to create an atmosphere of fear.” She gave each detective a hard look. “Your assignments are posted. Willy and I will be in the field too. Stay in touch with me no matter how insignificant a detail may seem.”
    “Good hunting,” Mace said.

    Inside Mace’s office, with the door closed, Stokes said, “Am I to understand Detective Lane is the primary on this investigation?”
    “That’s right,” Mace said.
    “And why is that?”
    “Because she answered the call.”
    “You’re her superior, right? You can take the case from her.”
    Mace grunted. “It’s not my job to work cases.”
    “Oh, that’s right. You’re an administrator now, aren’t you?”
    Just like the old days
, Mace thought. As a TV reporter for Channel 4 and one of Cheryl’s competitors, Stokes had hounded Mace during the Full Moon Killer case and had benefited from Mace’s ultimate success, parlaying his reporting on Gomez’s murders into his current NYPD position. “I like to think I’m still in the thick of things, but my job is supervising detectives, not working cases.”
    Stokes’s features intensified. “My phone hasn’t stopped ringing in the last twenty-four hours. This morning I go before my brothersand sisters from the press corps and tell