could to find her.
Short and sweet and thoroughly unsatisfactory.
That was accurate. All they could do to find her. Ellie thought she was observant and had shown a knack for investigation from the beginning, making detective at twenty-seven. She’d given everything to the initial disappearance of Julia Becraft, the entire department had, but the investigation had stretched on without any success.
A mere fifteen-mile range between the abductions, so you’d think we could catch this asshole. If he isn’t local, he’s someone like Grantham. There is a link, if we can just find it .
She just knew infuriatingly nothing about their quarry. No motive, no eyewitness glimpses, no physical evidence left behind … just nothing. He was a ghost, a phantom, an evil presence in a beautiful place. As ephemeral as a delicate spider’s web dusted with dew in the morning. Touch it and the whole thing disappeared.
The victims so far had no ties either, except they were female and pretty.
How did he hunt them? How did he make the selection? Like any other predatory animal? No. In the wild, it was usually because an animal was young or weakened by injury or age. Not so in these cases. They were healthy, intelligent women with no connection that she could see.
The activity was escalating. The first disappearance had been seventeen months ago. And then another about year later. And Margaret Wilson only eleven days before this one …
If this was another one. Introspective, she cupped her chin in one hand and let her thoughts flow. She did her best work that way, when she really wasn’t on the job, everyone watching, conflicting personalities at work even if they had the same goal. It had been the same in college. She’d been the quintessential sorority girl that first year, social, rudderless in some ways, until Brenda, one of her classmates, had been killed in a hit-and-run accident right on campus.
It had been rather like this investigation. No witnesses, no evidence, and whoever had killed Brenda had never been caught. The sheer unfairness of it had caused Ellie to rethink her major in English and switch to criminal justice.
So think . Eleven days. It was too short. The pattern had altered. What had changed? Was it simply opportunity?
What drove this particular killer? She needed to know, to understand so she could stop him cold …
“Damn it,” she muttered out loud. She was doing it again, every muscle tense though she sat in the most relaxing chair she’d ever owned, her gaze going to the notes still on her dining room table.
Tomorrow she could obsess over this case. Tonight she needed to sleep.
Chapter 5
He liked it when he could visit. Dangerous, he supposed, but some risks were worth it. Predators took chances. That was how it worked. The split-second decision was part of the thrill.
He was a hunter, not a killer.
That was how he’d always looked at it.
At them. At what had happened between them, more intimate than sex.
It was pitch dark, icy cold, dead quiet as he approached the structure, his flashlight skirting dead brush and black water.
Later, he’d take her home, but for now, he’d just drop by …
* * *
Four of them were missing.
Shock held him momentarily immobile. Bryce stared at the front page of the paper as he stood in the checkout line.
Another disappearance in Lincoln County? It was in bold, undeniable headlines.
What the hell was that? Another? It went on. If Melissa was included, four women. Gone. No traces.
Bryce hoped to God the article didn’t mention his name on another page. Why it mattered, he wasn’t sure, but he’d rather be disassociated as much as possible from a murder investigation, even if he was just identified as the person who last saw the most recent victim alive.
When he thought of it that way, it made him sick inside.
He hadn’t realized the situation. He’d been so wrapped up in his latest project for the past six months he hadn’t watched
Short and sweet and thoroughly unsatisfactory.
That was accurate. All they could do to find her. Ellie thought she was observant and had shown a knack for investigation from the beginning, making detective at twenty-seven. She’d given everything to the initial disappearance of Julia Becraft, the entire department had, but the investigation had stretched on without any success.
A mere fifteen-mile range between the abductions, so you’d think we could catch this asshole. If he isn’t local, he’s someone like Grantham. There is a link, if we can just find it .
She just knew infuriatingly nothing about their quarry. No motive, no eyewitness glimpses, no physical evidence left behind … just nothing. He was a ghost, a phantom, an evil presence in a beautiful place. As ephemeral as a delicate spider’s web dusted with dew in the morning. Touch it and the whole thing disappeared.
The victims so far had no ties either, except they were female and pretty.
How did he hunt them? How did he make the selection? Like any other predatory animal? No. In the wild, it was usually because an animal was young or weakened by injury or age. Not so in these cases. They were healthy, intelligent women with no connection that she could see.
The activity was escalating. The first disappearance had been seventeen months ago. And then another about year later. And Margaret Wilson only eleven days before this one …
If this was another one. Introspective, she cupped her chin in one hand and let her thoughts flow. She did her best work that way, when she really wasn’t on the job, everyone watching, conflicting personalities at work even if they had the same goal. It had been the same in college. She’d been the quintessential sorority girl that first year, social, rudderless in some ways, until Brenda, one of her classmates, had been killed in a hit-and-run accident right on campus.
It had been rather like this investigation. No witnesses, no evidence, and whoever had killed Brenda had never been caught. The sheer unfairness of it had caused Ellie to rethink her major in English and switch to criminal justice.
So think . Eleven days. It was too short. The pattern had altered. What had changed? Was it simply opportunity?
What drove this particular killer? She needed to know, to understand so she could stop him cold …
“Damn it,” she muttered out loud. She was doing it again, every muscle tense though she sat in the most relaxing chair she’d ever owned, her gaze going to the notes still on her dining room table.
Tomorrow she could obsess over this case. Tonight she needed to sleep.
Chapter 5
He liked it when he could visit. Dangerous, he supposed, but some risks were worth it. Predators took chances. That was how it worked. The split-second decision was part of the thrill.
He was a hunter, not a killer.
That was how he’d always looked at it.
At them. At what had happened between them, more intimate than sex.
It was pitch dark, icy cold, dead quiet as he approached the structure, his flashlight skirting dead brush and black water.
Later, he’d take her home, but for now, he’d just drop by …
* * *
Four of them were missing.
Shock held him momentarily immobile. Bryce stared at the front page of the paper as he stood in the checkout line.
Another disappearance in Lincoln County? It was in bold, undeniable headlines.
What the hell was that? Another? It went on. If Melissa was included, four women. Gone. No traces.
Bryce hoped to God the article didn’t mention his name on another page. Why it mattered, he wasn’t sure, but he’d rather be disassociated as much as possible from a murder investigation, even if he was just identified as the person who last saw the most recent victim alive.
When he thought of it that way, it made him sick inside.
He hadn’t realized the situation. He’d been so wrapped up in his latest project for the past six months he hadn’t watched
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