Shit.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Now could it?
Ethan touched a piece of paper with the victim’s names, and his finger was on one particular name.
‘Megan.’
Mitch had said she was skittish around men, and a victim of sexual assault as a child would do that.
Now, they needed to know.
“Who?” Gene asked.
Greyson read the information from the paper in front of him that he’d printed out from BOP, the Bureau of Prisons.
“We have a Franklin Elston. He was a teacher at the school there over fifteen years ago. He liked touching the girls, and he actually had sex with five of them. He was a serial pedophile.”
The light bulb went on.
“Okay,” Gene said, as Ethan began searching that name to see what they found, and hopefully, to see who they found tied to him. If he had a family, they would be the top suspects. “Who are the five girls?” he asked.
Greyson explained.
“That was the tap dance. They testified against him, but because they were all underage, their names were redacted, andthey went by Jane Doe one through five. I contacted a federal judge, and I got the names.”
Hot.
Damn.
Gene had his pen in hand.
“Hit me.”
Greyson read them off.
“We have Ivey Slee, Phylis Smith, Megan Vessey, Vina Beede, and a Summer Crito.”
Well, shit.
Gene only had to write one down—the last one.
At the same time, where he was sitting beside his partner, Ethan was running a search on Phylis Smith, to see if that was Phylis Lizney’s maiden name. As soon as he found the marriage license online in the database, he nodded.
And Gene understood.
“So, we have our victims, and one he hasn’t gotten yet?” Gene asked.
That told Ethan exactly what he wanted him to do, so he began running it. If they could get to Summer Crito, they could catch this dude in the act.
Fingers.
Crossed.
“Yeah, it appears. Does that make sense?” Greyson asked.
Oh, it did.
