All Fall Down by Erica Spindler Page B

description.”
    â€œDo the same with the health clubs, cross-reference the lists, see how many matches we have,” Stemmons added.
    Connor nodded his agreement. “I also suggest questioning the area prostitutes. Like I said, our UNSUB’s been working out the details of this fantasy for some time. He’s practiced it on hookers. There are girls out there who know this guy by his ritual.”
    The man with Connor stood and introduced himself as Steve Rice, the Special Agent in Charge, or SAC, of the Charlotte field office of the FBI. “We should stake out the cemetery where Joli’s buried,” he said. “Set up video cameras. This kind of killer routinely visits his victim’s grave as a way of reliving his fantasy. It’s so stimulating for them, we often catch them masturbating.”
    â€œJesus,” Braxton muttered, looking as sickened as he sounded.
    â€œIf the stakeout yields nothing,” Rice continued, “try flushing him out by engineering a big story about Joli in the Charlotte Observer, a human-interest piece. Get them to run a couple good pictures. Get him stirred up, excited. And keep those cameras trained on her grave. Trust me, it works.”
    For several minutes various other investigative avenues were discussed. When the discussion died down, Mayor Pinkston stepped in once more. “I’m encouraged by what we’ve done here today,” he began, the consummate politician easing into his shtick.
    While he pontificated, Melanie’s thoughts drifted to her own problems. Problem, she corrected. Just one. Stan’s intention to gain custody of Casey.
    Melanie brought a hand to the back of her neck and massaged the knotted muscles. She had waited several days before calling Stan back. She had used the timeto compose herself and prepare her case. She had been ready to calmly reason with him, to argue elegantly, to beg if forced to. Instead, she’d lost her temper and ended up shouting at him.
    What was wrong with her? Why did she allow him to push her buttons that way? She swallowed a sigh. It had been the same during their marriage. She had been fire, he ice. She had argued with passion, he with coolheaded logic. Whenever they had argued, which had been often, the more passionate she had become, the more coolly rational he—in a never-ending, escalating cycle. By the end she’d realized that he had used his ability to disassociate from his emotions as a way to manipulate her. And as a way to constantly prove his superiority.
    It had worked. After arguing, she’d always felt like a shrewish, raving lunatic.
    She had promised herself she would never again allow him to get to her that way. She had fallen right into his trap anyway.
    â€œâ€”a few more administrative details we need to discuss. The first is the two-force involvement in this investigation.”
    At that, Melanie looked up. She glanced at Bobby. She saw by his expression that he knew what was coming, too, and her stomach sank.
    â€œWe’ve decided to make a change. We feel strongly that by dividing the investigation between the two forces, we’re watering it down. As of now, the CMPD is officially the force of record in the Andersen murder. They’ll be aided, of course, by the FBI and SBI,but they’ll bear the major responsibility for the investigation.”
    â€œThat’s bullshit!” Melanie said before she could stop herself. She got to her feet, face hot. “Pardon my outburst, Mr. Mayor, but the murder occurred in Whistlestop. We are prepared and eager to do whatever necessary to see that Joli Andersen’s killer is brought to justice.”
    â€œI’m sure you are, Officer May. And believe me, your chief made a convincing argument in favor of awarding the WPD the case. However, we feel we must go with the experience on this one.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œThe decision’s been made, Officer May,” he said,