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“No, that’s fine. Whatever you want. I should just tell everyone you’re in charge anyway.”
Scott flapped his hand in the air. “No need. This is working just fine. Besides, your people seem to have a healthy respect for you. I don’t want them sticking pins in voodoo dolls because they think I’m discounting you. Anyway, Quantico says he’s ramping up his timeline and it won’t be long before he chooses his next victim.”
“Next victim.” Cole swallowed a sour taste in his mouth. “Fucking shit.”
“Double that. So. What did you learn from Miss Moretti?”
Cole motioned Scott to move away from the activity where they couldn’t be heard. In short, clipped sentences he gave him every detail of Dana’s story, leaving nothing out.
Clayton was stunned. “My God, she’s lived with that all these years. It had to take a lot of courage for her to come back here and try to face it head on.”
“Yeah, and I have to say, no one was too friendly about it at first. Me included. The word asshole comes to mind.”
Scott rubbed the back of his neck. “When people hide a secret that long, they’re ten times more resistant to someone pulling out their dirty laundry. Good for her for sticking with it.”
“She also told me a couple of things that weren’t in the reports since none of the other victims survived.” He filled Scott in about the singing and the odor. “She’s lived with this so long. Catching him is the only way she’ll have peace of mind.”
“Christ, a singing predator. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. And I’ve certainly heard stranger things.” He frowned. “I wonder what kind of unusual smell she’s talking about. If it was something common, I’d think she’d have been able to identify it.”
“I don’t know. Not greasepaint. I asked. She thought maybe some kind of cologne.”
Scott pulled out his cell. “Let me call Clark again and ask them to run a program on predators who sing. Sing, for Christ’s sake!”
When he finished the call, he said, “They think they’ve found the answer to what our perp has been doing all this time. It’s a stretch, but it’s a good possibility.”
Cole lifted an eyebrow. “More cases like the old one?”
“Maybe.” Scott rubbed his hand over his face, now bristly with end of day growth. “They’ve been trying to track down a human trafficking ring they got a tip on. These perps pick up girls in Mexico, ages ten to fifteen, and bring them over the border to the buyers. Then they’re resold all over the world. Nobody’s going to notice if a bunch of illegal immigrants disappear.”
Cole’s stomach pitched and rolled. Too much about this case was making him sick. In the military, he sometimes had to do extreme things to survive and to protect his country. Things that turned his stomach. But this? This was just pure evil.
“You think our unsub is involved in this?”
“Seems like a logical market for him,” Scott pointed out. “He’d have the pick out of each group for his own warped amusement. Not quite as tasty as the little ones but close enough.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This animal needs to be taken out and shot.”
“If the law would let us, I’d pull the trigger.”
“The law.” Cole snorted. “At times, it’s hard to uphold something that protects animals like this.”
“They’re still trying to pinpoint a specific location for the exchange of ‘merchandise.’ They get a lead on one place, and the ring moves to another. Or they change the days or the time.”
Cole turned as he heard his name called and saw Gaylen coming toward him, his face grimmer than ever. Whatever he had to say, Cole knew it wouldn’t be good news.
“This will kill Grace.” Gaylen shook his head. “I can hardly get over this one myself. Gaby lives in the house she grew up in, right there at the end of River Street.” He pointed. “You can see it’s the last one on the block. There’s nothing past it except these fields and trees.”
“Perfect for our killer.”
“Whoever this bastard is,” Gaylen went on, “he somehow managed to drop her way out in those fields—in that copse of trees just like the other two—and sneak away without being seen. But here’s the worst part. He called Stacy pretending to be Gaby and whispered, ‘I’m home. Help me.’ Then he hung up.”
“Bastard.” Cole spat the word out.
“Unfortunately, Stacy didn’t take time to call us, just hauled ass with her husband over there. When no one answered the door, she opened it with a key she has. But the house was empty, so they started looking around outside. Her husband’s the one who found the body.”
“Shit.” Cole was running out of appropriate words.
“Andi and Mickey have got the scene roped off, as you can see, and Nita’s working with the body. Just waiting for the feds to get here.”
