He couldn’t determine if there were files on Marcantonio in the funeral parlor and the law office, but UMCB should have at least had some record of him. The missing files spoke volumes. It’d meant somebody had went out of their way to steal the information on him. Could it be one of the girls? Or could it be, as Sol suggested, the killer? He could understand why either DePalma or Kennedy would want Marcantonio’s files. They were searching for the Rembrandt. But why would the serial killer take them?
Rolling the straw to the left side of his mouth, Theo tipped his head back against the sofa as he gazed up at the ceiling. “Maybe he’s traveling through the vents,” he joked, stretching out his legs. He had actually considered the possibility when he was examining the second murder site. But it was a bit too outlandish for his taste. “Or maybe he’s just really good at lock picking.” Or staging a crime scene fit for an escape artist. “One of the girls probably got to it,” he said more seriously, folding his hands on his abdomen. He looked contemplative for a moment before he turned his head to stare over at Sol by the window.
“I’m going on a date with your sister tomorrow,” he announced, changing the topic. He was going to figure out the case sooner or later, but he wasn’t going to overwork his brain in order to do it. Seemed more counterproductive that way.