Focus, precision, and patience. Why else would that phrase be familiar? I open my eyes, the room is dark. I can hear Detective Farina sleeping. He snores lightly. He’s having a good sleep tonight. There’s another sound. I put my hand to my mouth and stifle a laugh. He does fart in his sleep. Caught you. I think I’ll save that little bit of information for another time. I get out of bed as quietly as possible, procure the stack of paperwork that the detective brought back with him and hope that a copy of Congressional Assassin or ‘whatever the hell they’re calling him's' psychological profile is hidden within the stack of files. I tiptoe out of the bedroom with my treasure, grinning from ear to ear.
The first thing that I do is go into the kitchen and make some coffee. Because up at two a.m. without coffee? What kind of a woman do you take me for? Besides, it’s always a good time for coffee. I have been drinking coffee and finding everything except the psychological profile when Ian comes into the dining room with his own cup of tea and one of Grandpa’s journals.
“Oh.” He says.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing up?” He asks.
“I was getting ready to ask you the same thing.”
“I thought I saw something in Zeb’s journal yesterday that might be useful. I didn’t want to wait until morning to look for it. You?”
“I thought that Detective Jillian told me something about the guy shooting at representatives that sounded familiar. I didn’t want to wait until morning to look for it.”
A smile comes to Ian’s eyes. “I guess that’s something else that we have in common.” He says.
“Deep curiosity?”
“A complete lack of patience.”
“I have patience.” I counter.
“Not according to Heather, Uncle Will, or Detective Farina.”
“Hey. Christmas doesn’t count. Besides, that’s only three people. What do they know?”
My father smiles. We both dig into our reading.
“I found it. Listen to this. ‘The assassin is focused, he only has one purpose. He is precise in what he does. Only one bullet is ever fired. He is patient. The assassin has studied his target over an extended period of time and chooses his moment carefully. Look for a suspect with a military or intelligence background.’ Focused, precise, patient.” I start to underline the words and remember that these are private. I shouldn’t be looking at them. At all. “I heard that all the time when I was a kid. Clyde Thompson uses that exact phrase.”
“What exact phrase?” Farina asks as he pads into the dining room barefoot.
“Focus, precision, and patience.” I answer. “It’s in the assassin’s psychological profile. It’s also what Clyde Thompson says about hunting. All the time.”
“He’s also older.”
“So?”
“Take another look at the psychological profile you have already looked at once. Illegally.” He says.
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