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“You got it.” Larry shot her a questioning look. “Are you willing?”
“Absolutely.” Sloane’s hope surged at the prospect of doing something productive. “I’ll compile a list of every human being I know, if I have to. I’ll put asterisks next to the ones I think merit a second look. Any questions you come up with, I’ll answer. And I won’t eliminate the women, because the majority of them have husbands or significant others in their lives, most of whom I’m acquainted with. Hell, I’ll even go through my college and high school yearbooks tonight, if you think that would help.”
“You’ve got a natural affinity for this.” A hint of a smile curved Larry’s lips. “When you decide to rejoin the Bureau, maybe you should consider applying to the BAU.”
“My rejoining the Bureau isn’t up to me,” Sloane reminded him. “It’s up to them. And to this.” She held up her hand.
“You’ll get there. I have faith.”
Sloane’s cell phone rang, and she stopped to scoop it out of her purse. “It might be Bob Erwin,” she told Larry. “He’s trying to determine whether Lydia Halas was another of our Unsub’s victims. More and more, it’s looking like she was.”
Larry made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Go ahead. Take the call.”
Sloane punched on her phone. “Sloane Burbank.”
“It’s me.”
Her brows arched at the sound of Derek’s voice. “I thought you were locked up in hell.”
“I was. I’m not anymore. Is Larry with you?”
“Yes. We’re finishing up at John Jay. Why?”
“Because the DNA from that butchered prostitute in Chinatown came back.”
“Wait a minute. You’re confusing me. I read about the murdered prostitute, and I assumed that was part of the emergency you mentioned when you canceled our weekend plans. But I had no idea there was DNA evidence, and I still have no idea why you want to share this information with Larry and me.”
“Because the offender’s DNA matched the DNA of the blood splatter found at Tina Carroll’s crime scene, and the DNA of the sweat and hair found on the custodian uniform at Southern New Jersey Medical Center—worn by whoever stole all those drugs and slit the head nurse’s throat.”
Sloane stopped dead in her tracks and leaned against a tree. “Are you telling me we’re talking about one killer for both sets of crimes?”
“Yup. We know for a fact that the same Unsub was responsible for the three crimes I just described to you. With regard to this last murder—which was the mutilation of a Fukienese prostitute—there’ve been a string of identical crimes in Chinatown these past few months, all with the same pattern. And with regard to the kidnappings, you know as well as I do that we have strong evidence indicating that the Unsub who attacked Tina is also responsible for the disappearances of Penelope Truman and Cynthia Alexander.”
“And Lydia Halas,” Sloane added woodenly.
“Who?”
“She was my nurse at Cornell Medical Center when I was recovering from my surgeries. She left four months ago, with no word to anyone and no notice to the hospital. And the pattern…” Sloane proceeded to describe the when and where to Derek. “Bob’s looking into it now. But I don’t have a good feeling.”
“Shit.” Derek made a frustrated sound. “It makes you wonder how many more victims he’s grabbed that we don’t know about.” A pointed pause. “And how many more he plans to grab—including you.”
“Larry and I are addressing that issue now,” Sloane replied. “I’m obviously central to these kidnappings. So we’re taking the opposite approach. Rather than profiling the Unsub, we’re profiling me. We’re heading over to his hotel now and putting my entire life down on paper, hopefully to figure out what’s motivating this psycho.” A thoughtful pause. “What you just told me is a big help. It answers one of the major questions Larry’s been grappling with—where our Unsub is unleashing his violence.”
“Yeah; well now you know.”
Larry had heard enough of the conversation to figure out what was going on. He waved his hand, getting Sloane’s attention.
“Derek, hang on a minute.” A quizzical look at Larry.
“Ask Derek if he can get us case files on the murdered prostitutes. Whatever’s not classified, right down to the smallest detail. It could be a huge help.”
“I heard what Larry asked. Consider it done,” Derek responded. “I’ll have the files brought over to Larry’s hotel ASAP. I’m doing the same with Bill down in Quantico. I just spoke to him. By the way, this new development changes things significantly, so Bill’s putting off our conference call until he and Larry have each had the chance to review and discuss everything.” Derek broke off as Jeff called out something to him in the background. “I’ve gotta run,” he told Sloane. “I’ve got a shitload of things to tie up at this end. I’ll call you as soon as things quiet down. Good luck with your profile.”
Hunterdon County, New Jersey
10:15 P.M.
Sloane was so exhausted when she pulled into her driveway that she could hardly focus. She’d never delved as deeply into her own life as she had today. Her brain felt like it had turned to mush.
