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Eve heard the bitter temper in the voice, as she turned to the detective. Late twenties, she judged, fit, good-looking, brown and brown.

And at the moment with a belligerent set to his jaw.

“He did that for my benefit. He doesn’t need to prove anything with Melinda. He has her, so’s already proven it.”

“You were confrontational with him during the ’link up.”

Eve angled her head, gave him a deeper study. Shirt-sleeved detective, hip holster, messy hair—hands scooping through it—tense face, hard eyes.

“Was I?”

“You told him to get fucked.”

“Is that confrontational around here?”

She got a quiet roll of laughter before Bree spoke up.

“You kept his focus on you—on you and him. Kept him engaged on that level, and a little pissed off—but at you. You and him. You are the target, so Melinda’s the tool, the lure. So she’s secondary. If he hurts her, deal’s off and you go home. You made him hear that, you made him believe that.”

Okay, Eve thought, maybe Bree Jones would be an asset.

“And every time he contacts me—and he will do so again—I’ll do the same. He expects it. He wants it. He gets off on it because he’s convinced he’ll have this second shot and it’ll end differently. He didn’t just get taken down by a cop, but by a rookie. Believe me, that’s eaten at him, burned his ego. Believe me, too, he’s no pussy. He’ll gut you like a trout if he gets the edge. He’s strong, and he can fight like a bastard. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Get backup. Stun him to the ground if you have to. I didn’t do either, and the son of a bitch almost killed me.

“Agents.”

As Eve expected, Nikos took the lead and—to her amusement—stepped to the podium.

“Special Agent Laurence and I would like to thank the Dallas Police and Security Department and Lieutenant Ricchio for the cooperation and assistance. The Bureau is committed to reapprehending Isaac McQueen, and to the safe return of Melinda Jones. We agree with the bulk of the profile, the data, and the suppositions Lieutenant Dallas related here. One point.”

She held up a finger, paused briefly.

“We do agree the subject is highly goal oriented, and as such our anal and probability ratio skews extremely low on the likelihood the subject will attempt an abduction of a minor at this time. Our focus will be on apprehending the subject with the safe release of his hostage.”

That’s fine, Eve thought. You do that. And she noted Laurence continued to work as his partner addressed the room.

Nikos went on, repaving ground already covered, wasting time in Eve’s opinion. Roarke edged closer, spoke quietly.

“They’ve arrested the prison guard, and they’re working him and Stibble. EDD has all the electronics, looking for any communications to or from McQueen and the partner.”

“Good.”

“I’ve got better. Stibble let McQueen use his pocket ’link on several occasions. McQueen wiped it, but EDD’s on that, too.”

“That’s not better. That’s excellent. I’d interrupt to update, but Nikos is having so much fun boring the cops.”

The faintest smile touched Roarke’s mouth. “She’s a bureaucrat, and less boring than most. Laurence has something.”

Eve looked over, saw Laurence get to his feet. The movement shut Nikos up.

“Got her,” Laurence announced. “Sarajo Whitehead, allegedly assaulted and raped by persons unknown October of last year.”

“I worked that.” Bree rose as well, looked at her partner. “We worked that.”

“I’ve got that, too.” Laurence nodded. “Subject was treated at Mercy Free Clinic, Dr. Hernandez attending, and reported to this precinct’s SVU. Melinda Jones as rape counselor.”

“Let’s see her,” Eve demanded, then backed up. “Sorry.”

“No need.” Laurence offered his PPC to Roarke. “You look to be running this end. Can you interface?”

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