"Dalton finally came through," Maria said, typing on her phone."The volunteer list.Forty-two names.He emailed it to me an hour ago with about six paragraphs of excuses for why it took so long."
"Why didn't I get it?"
"Looks like he misspelled your address.I'm sending it to you now."
Kari checked her phone, located the list, and started scanning the names."Better late than never," she murmured."Let's just hope our killer is in here somewhere."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kari spread the printed volunteer list across her desk at the tribal police station, fighting the exhaustion that pulled at the edges of her awareness.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, too bright for someone who'd been up for nearly thirty hours straight.She and Maria had driven back from Hartman's crime scene two hours ago, stopping just long enough to grab food neither of them had the appetite for before settling in to work through the forty-two names Cedric Dalton had provided.
Maria sat across from her, pen in hand, a second copy of the list covered in her own annotations.They'd already eliminated fifteen names—mostly women, a few older volunteers who helped with registration but had never been competitive runners themselves, three people who'd moved away from Arizona in the past year.
That left twenty-seven possibles.Still too many.
"We need to narrow this further," Kari said, rubbing her eyes.The footprint analysis from forensics sat beside the volunteer list—detailed measurements of the irregular gait pattern they'd documented at Hartman's scene."Someone with a physical impairment or injury that would explain this gait abnormality."
"That could be a lot of people," Maria said."Ultra-runners are famous for running through injuries that would sideline normal athletes.Stress fractures, torn tendons, chronic pain—they train through all of it."
"But this isn't just running through pain.This is a permanent biomechanical change."Kari tapped the forensics report."The irregular weight distribution is consistent across multiple footprints.Whoever runs like this has either adapted to a long-term structural problem or has neurological issues affecting their coordination.They're not limping along."
Maria picked up the report, studying the measurements."So we're looking for someone with a documented disability or medical condition.That should be in public records somewhere—disability payments, medical documentation, race results that show adaptive equipment."
They started working through the remaining names more carefully, searching for any mention of injuries or physical limitations.Social media, race results, news articles about local ultra-runners.Kari pulled up database after database, cross-referencing names against medical records she had legal access to, looking for the detail that would crack this open.
Michael Torrance had completed multiple hundred-mile races, but his race photos showed clean, efficient running form.No obvious gait abnormalities.She marked him as low priority.
Tammy Spiro had blogged about recovering from plantar fasciitis years ago, but recent race photos showed normal stride patterns.Another low priority.
David Martinez used trekking poles and posted frequently about knee problems that limited his pace.Possible, but the killer had chased victims at high speed for hours.Unlikely.
Kari worked through six more names, eliminating each one.Her coffee had gone cold and her vision was starting to blur, but she kept pushing.Somewhere in these names was a killer who'd murdered four people and would kill again if they didn't stop him.
Then she came across a man named Thomas Brightwater.She scanned Dalton's notes: forty-one years old, veteran ultra-runner, volunteered with course-marking and occasionally provided advice to runners training for desert races.
"Maria, what do you know about Thomas Brightwater?"
Maria looked up from her own research."Brightwater?He's a legend.Or he was.Set course records all over the Southwest before he retired."
Kari started searching.Thomas Brightwater had been one of the region's most dominant ultra-runners until his career ended abruptly five years ago.She found articles about his final race—the Desert Sky 100, where Brightwater had collapsed at mile seventy and been airlifted to a hospital with catastrophic heat stroke.
The follow-up article made her pulse quicken.Brightwater had suffered permanent neurological damage affecting both cognitive function and physical coordination.The brain injury had ended his competitive career.
"Physical coordination," Kari said aloud."Maria, neurological damage could cause exactly the kind of gait abnormality we're seeing."
Maria moved around the desk to look at Kari's screen."Brightwater suffered brain damage?"
"Severe heat stroke leading to seizures and permanent neurological effects."Kari kept reading, finding scattered mentions of Brightwater in the years since his injury.He'd essentially vanished from the competitive scene, but occasionally runners reported seeing him training alone in remote areas.One forum post described someone matching his description running with an asymmetric, irregular stride.
"That could be our gait pattern," Maria said.
Kari pulled up property records.Brightwater owned a small place north of Phoenix, remote and isolated.She checked the location against where their victims had been found—within striking distance of all four crime scenes.He'd know this terrain intimately, had spent years training in these exact mountains and washes.
"He's got the capability," Kari said."Former champion with elite endurance and desert experience.He's got the access—he's on Dalton's volunteer list.And he's got a physical characteristic that matches our evidence."
"But what's his motive?"Maria asked."Why would a former champion start killing runners?"
