Twelve

Evie heard David’s phone alarm and laid down the report she was reading, shook her head at Ann’s inquiring look. She’d let David decide what he wanted to do, but she thought they needed a break.

He joined them, and Evie thought he looked as stressed as she felt. He’d been making calls. She didn’t ask—he’d volunteer what was useful.

“I talked to Sharon, we’re good there,” she told him, unwrapping a roll of sweet-tarts to share. “We’ve got Indiana detectives on a conference call for Virginia Fawn at three o’clock. I figure we can take it from either here or on the drive to Wisconsin. The full case file sounds a lot like Jenna—missing license, Triple M concert, no sign of struggle at her apartment. Additional facts, her body was discovered, the autopsy says smothered. I’ve got copies of the full report for both of us, and I’ve sent Indiana PD everything we have on Jenna.”

She nodded to the board. “I’ve whittled my seventeen possibly related cases down to twelve, but am still working through them. There are no other matches on Triple M concerts yet, but it’s too early for that to indicate much. To make sure we don’t miss a related disappearance, Ann and I are starting with the first concert date in the band history and working our way forward in time. It’s going to be a few hours of database work to have a solid answer on that question.”

David seemed to relax a bit and nodded his thanks when she was done. “Okay. Good.” He turned to greet Ann. “When the governor asked if you wanted to help the task force get up and running, I don’t imagine you thought you were volunteering for actual case work like this again.”

“I’m glad to help out, David,” Ann replied with a smile. “It’s amazing how seductive a good puzzle can be. You’ve got yourself a mystery, but one that’s going to get solved now that it’s got some links,” she reassured.

David nodded toward additional photos now on the board. “Jenna, Tammy, Virginia. Let’s hope it stays at that . . . or only a couple more.”

“Under five would be good news. The database work is time-consuming,” Ann added, “but the core of it is straightforward. I can keep the search flowing if you two want to head to Wisconsin. Paul’s got some good researchers who can help me out, I’m sure.”

David looked to Evie. “What do you think? I tracked down the detective who has the Tammy Preston case. He’s off today, but he’ll come in if we want to meet with him. I’ve got copies of Tammy’s file printing now. No surprise, it’s rather thin. If we want to do interviews, he’ll make introductions to the family.”

“We wait, we risk January weather issues. The drive will give us time to talk through what we do have. I vote we go.”

“Then we go. I’ll let him know we’re coming.”

Evie handed him a Post-it note from her monitor. “There’s one other data set to put into motion before we leave. I’m sure Maggie has obsessed fans—that goes with the territory, right?”

“Disturbing emails, letters,” David agreed, “people we profile as budding stalkers. Security keeps photos on those we know are the most dangerous to her.”

“If he’s a devoted fan, he’s likely written Maggie.”

David considered that. “The most disturbing mail is kept for a lot of years on the assumption the person is either already a problem or will be one in the future. We’ve been updating the threat file for the ones living in Chicago, particularly given her planned return to live here. So I can get a current list of security worries. But if he’s killing women and being careful about leaving a trail, he’s not going to be sending creepy mail—‘I want to kill for you, Maggie’ and the like. We already would have been on it. Names going at least nine years back, I know them.”

“The admiration ones—softer tone, ‘I love your music, I’d follow you anywhere,’” Evie suggested.

“Okay, I’m catching what you mean. She gets a lot of that kind,” David confirmed. “Those notes don’t get saved unless an obsessed tone comes through. But maybe we can source names. A thank-you letter goes out to people who write her, and those envelope addresses must be generating from a database. We can run the correspondence names against all three of these case files—Jenna, Tammy, and Virginia—and maybe a name turns out to be common in each.”

“Another solid place to start looking. He follows Maggie’s concerts, he likes Maggie’s music, he’s ninety percent likely to be in her fan database too.”

“It’s a massive list, but I’ll get you those names.”

Evie tried to get a better picture of how the guy might show up. “I think he would reach out to Maggie, share his admiration of her music. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, wouldn’t come across as a threat but as a devoted admirer. ‘I’ve been to all your concerts, I love the way you sing, I play your music all the time.’ Like that. But he isn’t choosing women who look like her, he isn’t going for her physical type, so this may not be an actual Maggie obsession. He’s probably not going to have a room turned into a shrine for her, her pictures all over the walls. It’s the style of music, the lyrics, the event, the concert gathering—it’s the combination of her music and fans that sparks his interest.”

“Which narrows it down to every male attending her many concerts, but I see where you’re going here,” he said. “I think you’re right that he’s not Maggie-obsessed—she’s just the forum, the draw. The crowd that shares his enjoyment of her music is his hunting ground. I’ll see if we can source names and addresses for those who ordered concert tickets from the band’s website. That data probably goes back at least a decade, since her accounting firm is fanatical about keeping income-and-expense records in pristine shape. The music world is mostly a cash business, one that gets audited frequently. Most orders are for two to ten tickets. If we look for single-ticket purchasers, for these specific dates in history, maybe we get lucky.”

Evie heard some much-needed hope in his voice. “Make some calls to her accounting firm, maybe we get very lucky,” she suggested. “I’ve heard that band groupies try to be at every concert. But someone nine years ago, when the band was just getting its footing, and him being at these three specific concerts in Chicago, Wisconsin, and Indiana? That’s not going to be a long list.”

“Let’s hope he ordered tickets off the band’s website for at least a couple of them,” David said. “I’ll make the calls, then tell Wisconsin PD we’re on our way. Thanks, Evie. A good idea.”

She waved toward Ann. “Joint idea. Ann’s been educating me on the music business, what a concert is actually like.”

David smiled. “I promise to take you both to enjoy one of Maggie’s, show you the real deal from the backstage preconcert prep to switching off the lights when it’s all over. A great experience. Maybe not so great the next couple of dozen times you try to go from beginning to end.”

They all laughed, and David and Evie gathered up items for their trip north.

Milwaukee was colder than Chicago, people were friendlier, and the case that had brought them here was even more incomprehensible than Jenna’s disappearance. But Evie now had enough details from Tammy Preston’s life to reach some possible conclusions.

As they returned to David’s SUV beside the candy store where Tammy occasionally had worked, she tucked her notebook back into her pocket and put some of those thoughts into words.

“This doesn’t feel like Jenna to me. Tammy lives one street back from small retail shops—the town’s version of a downtown square—sharing a ground-floor apartment with a girlfriend. The college is nearby on a map, but it’s really not when you see the area in person. Two different worlds, Jenna’s and Tammy’s. Locals live on these blocks, mostly single-story smaller homes, the student apartment building itself another outlier. You’d want to go east to blend in with the college crowd living off campus.”

“Tammy had a different life than a college student,” David said. “But this area still might have suited our guy. No good lighting around the apartment building, mature trees, tall shrubs, just eight parking spaces squeezed in behind it. Someone waiting on Tammy to arrive home wouldn’t be noticed by people out walking their dogs. He could wait unseen, watch her arrive.”

“That itself is another shift. Jenna walked back to her apartment after the concert. Tammy would have driven. And Tammy doesn’t live alone, not a setup for someone lying in wait. Then there’s the time gap. Tammy went to a concert on Friday night, but she didn’t disappear until Sunday evening. Why stick around? The building location and roommate presence can be explained away, but the time delay? Why stay from Friday night to Sunday if he came to town just for the concert?”

“It doesn’t make sense that he would,” David agreed, “unless this is where he lives, and Chicago—Jenna—was his road trip. He wants to target Tammy but has to work around the shared apartment, and it’s a hard crime to pull off. Maybe Tammy was always the real target and he used Jenna a hundred miles away as a practice run. Jenna was easier—lived alone, walked home. Then he came back and went after Tammy, his intention all along.”

Evie considered it and felt the case slide onto a new footing. “That would solve a lot. Jenna is a clean crime, so even if hers was a practice run, it’s still probably not his first. Let’s look through crime reports from this area for his first crime. Maybe the move to a college girl developed as a way to blend in when out of town. Your suggestion about music as his world still seems the likely way we tap him. We begin with Tammy and Jenna both at Triple M concerts. He’s choosing them because they’re overlapping into his chosen world of music. Maybe he’s a music major—not at Jenna’s college, but here in Milwaukee.”

David started the vehicle and kicked on the heater, let the engine idle while they talked. “I like the feel of it being a college-age guy. If someone sees Tammy with him, they just think ‘new boyfriend,’ not registering that this is someone to be worried about.”

“I lean toward young too,” Evie replied. “The more I think about Jenna Greenhill and why she went missing . . . it’s not her—the fact she liked strawberries and read philosophy and studied biology and wanted her postgrad work to focus on the genome—none of that is relevant. He wanted the outline of her. He wanted the female college student who liked Triple M music, who had a nice smile. I believe he chose her that night at the concert. He followed her home. And he took her. Tammy sort of fits that profile, but her disappearance . . . it feels different.

“Why Tammy?” she asked, continuing her deliberations. “What did he see that made him choose her? You’re talking serious premeditation to practice with a crime just to commit another crime. We need to understand a whole lot better who Tammy is.” And even as Evie said it, she found herself looking over at David and shaking her head. “No. It’s not this. Feel how complex the motive just got when I made that proposition. A college guy wanting Tammy picks her off coming out of work one evening; he doesn’t do a trial-run homicide to practice how to grab her. If Tammy was his target, he would have gone for her first.”

“Yeah, it gets complex with our proposed age of the offender,” David said. “It’s linear—Jenna then Tammy then Virginia, with a common motive threading through. Maybe a growing addiction to abduction and killing?”

“Which brings us back to the core question. Was Tammy one of his, or is this simply a girl who took off once again, looking for a different life but ran into trouble? She liked music, had even sung a bit to earn pocket money, yet the rest doesn’t fit Jenna.”

“Consider this possibility,” David offered as he checked traffic and pulled out of the parking lot. “Assume Jenna is his. He’s attending a Triple M concert the next state over, away from home, enjoying his night as a young man surrounded by college girls, and something clicks. He wants an even more exciting end to this special night. So he lifts Jenna’s driver’s license, stakes out her place, abducts and murders her, hides her body, and he gets away with it. It goes so well for him that the parts of that night form one cohesive whole. A year later when he goes hunting again, wanting the same thrill, he starts with the same band Triple M, same choice of a girl attending the concert, so he can experience it all again.”

“That connection works for me, David—the first murder setting the parameters he’s going to consider important.”

David nodded. “Part of the whole, the memory he’s trying to re-create. And it’s the outlier components that might make Tammy one of his. Assume for now this is his hometown. To act here is more risky, a place where he’s known. But Triple M is literally coming right to his doorstep. He wants that thrill again. So he goes to the concert, planning to re-create his success. He sees Tammy there that Friday night, lifts her license, wants to do something, but once he sees the building and the roommate situation, he loses the nerve. He walks away from the evening he had built up in his mind, totally frustrated. He thinks about it for forty-eight hours—stews about it. She’s right there in his hometown, drives by her place several times, getting more frustrated, and then he’s got up his nerve again. He’s able to snatch Tammy when she’s on her own, out of the sight of witnesses, does the crime in his hometown, gets away with it.

“He’s had two successes now. He’s enjoying this. But he’s learning. He goes farther afield for the next one, to Indiana. He keeps the constants he likes: Triple M concert, the driver’s license to see where she lives, get there ahead of her. But he’s out of the area quicker. He doesn’t take time to hide the body now. He’s deciding what is necessary to protect his identity and what he doesn’t need to care about. He’s has a third success with Virginia.” David’s voice turned hard. “But he doesn’t go quiet. Not for six years. Not if Jenna and Tammy and Virginia are all his kills.”

Evie was nodding even before David finished. “That fits, David. I really think you just nailed it. Illinois with a Triple M concert and Jenna. So target another Triple M concert in his hometown, select Tammy, persist even when it doesn’t go as planned, succeed again. Move on to Indiana and Virginia Fawn with what he’s learned. This time leave the body rather than take time to dispose of it.”

“He persisted with Tammy because he could. We shift our focus, as he likely lives around here,” David said. “So the question on the table now is how do we want to start that search?”

“Someone who lives here, has traveled to Illinois, to Indiana—let’s start with speeding tickets in Wisconsin heading south around the dates of interest. He’s got a long journey ahead, I bet he ignores the speed limit leaving town, wanting to get the road trip behind him. And music majors at the local college are still a good fit. Anyone in Maggie’s fan base who lives in Wisconsin? I think it’s the same set of questions we’re asking about Jenna, just changing venue. And we’ll want to add anyone who went to Brighton College who previously lived in Wisconsin, whether they graduated or not.” Evie had her notepad out. “Anything else come to mind?”

“Local crimes here. You don’t start at murder. It’s a small enough town the police probably knew the names of the teen boys they wanted to keep an eye on.”

“Saul had research material on a Wisconsin high school running back,” Evie said. “We need to look at why.”

“He’s here, Evie. Somewhere around here.”

“It feels good to have the sense we’re on the trail now.”

David glanced over, offered a wry smile. “Or we’ve just talked ourselves into a detour. Keep that in mind. All of this could be a rabbit trail.”

“I always keep that in mind. The most brilliant ideas can turn out to be errors. You just don’t know it until it plays out if you’re setting up to whiff the ball or hit a home run. A batting average of one in three is still really good, so I’ve learned to love brilliant ideas—eventually that’s where you succeed.”

“I’ve got a baseball fan riding with me?” David chuckled. “Nice. Where to next?”

She checked her watch. “Let’s head over to the police station and the conference call with Indiana. Then let’s talk to Tammy’s parents, hopefully get some more names of friends to talk with while we’re here. After that, back south. It’s time to start generating more lists. I’m going to shoot these ideas on to Ann, let her add more queries to the database work she’s doing for us.”

“Don’t tell me how many cases she’s found overlapping Triple M concerts. I want to see the details when I hear that bad news.”

Evie glanced over at him. “The last time I asked that question, Ann said, ‘Ask me later, and keep your focus on Tammy.’ She’s keeping us in the dark. But whatever the answer, we’re going to find the guy and end this. It could be soon with the thread we’ve got to pull.”

“I sincerely hope so. I don’t want to even consider the implications for Maggie if we haven’t resolved the case by her next concert. She’s got one at the McCormick Center on March seventh.”

Six weeks. Evie prayed it didn’t take them that long. “There’s time,” she said.

Just after seven p.m. they rejoined Ann at the Ellis office complex. “I’ll carry my backpack and your briefcase,” Evie offered, “if you can manage that box Tammy’s parents gave us.”

“Thanks.” David slid over his briefcase. “Don’t wait for me—it’s cold out here. The box is heavy, but I’ll be able to open the doors.”

Evie didn’t need further encouragement. She headed toward the building as he retrieved the banker box from the trunk. Everything Tammy Preston’s parents had pursued to find their daughter was highlighted in the materials. They pleaded with them to read through it—they hadn’t given up the hope she’d simply run off and might be out there, still alive.

The first thing Evie spotted as she pushed open the office doors was a large fruit tray on the first desk, then a tall bouquet of flowers and glass bottles of Carin County Root Beer chilling in a chest of ice. The flowers she could easily guess were from Rob, who loved sending arrangements to brighten her temporary offices. The fruit and cold drinks—Paul, she thought, a gift for Ann, with likely their mutual friend Gabriel Thane’s involvement. The local brand of root beer was one of the best exports Carin County offered. She scanned the rest of the room, and her sense of order settled.

The head of the Chicago FBI office, Paul Falcon, was sitting at her desk, munching from a big bag of M&M’s. The other desks were equally occupied.

“Welcome home. We migrated,” said Sharon.

“So I see, boss. Hello to all of you.” She nodded at Theo and Taylor, put down the briefcase and backpack, shed her coat, and stepped out of her boots. It felt . . . nice, walking in and finding friends at the end of a taxing day.

David came in and stopped, equally surprised.

“There’s room for that box over here,” Theo said, pointing.

Evie waved at Paul to stay seated and simply perched on the edge of her desk. “Where’s Ann?”

“Food run. I type faster than she does, and more people scurry around when I ask a question.” He smiled as he said it and reached over to pull up a nearby chair. “Sit, kiddo. We’re up to speed on Tammy Preston—Ann’s filled us in on your notes. We thought it would be useful to push the rest of this question into place tonight so that you and David can catch your breath.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” David stated, interpreting why everyone was here. “The number of Triple M matches?”

“Not so bad,” Sharon said firmly. “Sit. Drink. Eat. We’ll drag out the whiteboard with details after you’ve gotten some food in you.”

Evie was ready to hand the weight of the day off to the others. She settled into the chair Paul had offered. “Pass me a root beer, David, and someone tell me what Ann is bringing in.”

“Sautéed chicken, baked potatoes, coleslaw,” Theo replied. “Ann’s putting it on Paul’s credit card since the FBI is being nice to us tonight.”

“So you’ve solved your missing high school student?” Evie asked Theo.

He smiled. “No shoptalk for thirty minutes. But yes. I’m in a race with Taylor for who gets a closed file first.”

“I’m in the race for last,” Evie figured. “I want one-sentence updates before I eat. Taylor?”

“I’m ninety percent solved, but he’s dead.”

“Sharon?”

“Eighty, but only because I don’t want to show too much optimism. Mine are alive.”

“Three closed out of five, with people alive in one,” Evie summed up. “Not for public notice, but that’s a great outcome.”

“I certainly can live with it,” Sharon agreed. “We’ll get Jenna and Saul figured out and make it five for five.” She came over to offer a chocolate chip cookie from a bakery bag. “The flowers have your name on them, Evie. I’ve been dying to ask. Your guy?”

“I’ll look at the card later, but I would assume so. Rob likes sending beautiful arrangements.”

“Nice.” Sharon pulled over a chair, and Evie asked her about any new wedding plans, more than willing to stay with the no-work rule for a while longer.

The group migrated to the conference room for their meal, moving folders aside to make space. The chicken was delicious, and talking slowed as they enjoyed it. Evie was well satisfied as she finished her coleslaw and final dinner roll. She let the conversation drift around her, about sports and politics and family.

She already found the task force easy to be with. David was now involved in a detailed conversation with Paul and was more animated and relaxed than he’d been in days. Paul was drawing the rules of an aerial golf competition on the back of napkins. Drones would soon be changing sports, creating brand-new ones, if the people Paul talked with were to be believed. Drone golf, coming to the sky near you. Evie had to smile—such a guy thing. She’d impress Rob with her bit of insider sports information when they had their next dinner.

Ann caught her attention and nodded toward the outer office. Evie picked up her root beer, joined her friend. “You put together a really nice evening—feel free to do this anytime you like,” Evie mentioned.

“It sort of evolved when Paul decided he could spare a few hours of his Saturday to help out on the database work. Then Sharon called.”

With just the two of them in the room, Evie crossed to the flowers, pulled out the envelope, checked her name on the front, and drew out the card. She hadn’t done so earlier because occasionally Rob wrote delightfully personal messages she wouldn’t want to share with the others. She smiled, and because Ann was someone who would understand, offered her the card.

It was a sketched drawing of an archer with a bull’s-eye, an arrow in flight.

“You know I have my reservations about him, Evie, but this”—Ann held up the card—“Evie’s on target. Without needing to say the words, Rob is encouraging. I’m glad to see it.”

“He gets me, Ann, in some ways better than I do myself. I don’t have to wonder if he asked me to marry him with a misguided sense of who I’d be as his wife. We’re very much mismatched in other ways, yet he sees that as a good thing. He likes the counterbalance.”

“Well, the flowers are lovely, the message even more so. I see what you mean about his liking to brighten your life.”

Evie studied the floral arrangement. “I feel uncomfortable about the price tag, but I also have a sweet spot for beauty. I think these are tiger lilies,” she said, lightly touching a petal. “And whatever the purple ones are, they always make me smile.”

“I admit, I elbowed Paul. ‘Look what Evie’s guy sends her!’”

Evie laughed. “Yeah. It feels good to be romanced.”

The group came trailing in, and David leaned back against one of the desks. “I’m grateful to you all for the help, the hours of work on a weekend, and the meal. It’s appreciated. But it’s time. Let’s get the bad news over with.”

Sharon nodded. “Theo.”

Theo rolled a whiteboard out from the storage closet—Ann’s handwriting—neat, precise, accompanied by photos.

Not as bad as Evie was braced for. She glanced at David, saw fleeting relief on his face. Not nearly as bad as he, too, had been prepared to see.

“Five cases,” Ann said into the now-quiet room. “We’re pretty sure it’s only five, David. We’ve searched every concert date and location Triple M has played in the past. We’ve been debating case details for a few hours, eliminating those we conclude didn’t align.

“In date order, Chicago, Wisconsin, Indiana, Ohio, and back again to Indiana. Jenna Greenhill, Tammy Preston, Virginia Fawn, plus now Emily Close and Laura Ship.

“The Triple M concert connection held for the five, though there were differences on other case details. Three bodies have been found, all smothered. Two still missing—Jenna and Tammy.

“He’s traveling. Even the crimes have a travel component to them,” Ann continued. “The bodies were on back roads outside of town. Lived here, found here. Lived here, found here,” she indicated on printed maps. “The yellow dots are the concert venues. Not all these victims walked home from the concerts—some lived miles away.

“He’s choosing reasonably big cities,” Ann suggested, “good-sized concert turnouts, college towns. He grabs and goes. That’s what it looks like on first review. Someone able to blend with the college crowd, maybe drives a van, likely a van. He’s waiting at her place, comes at her when her guard is down. Then hauls the body away in the middle of the night. There are no signs of a break-in at these apartments. But the overall essence of the crimes suggests he might be picking their locks and getting inside, lying in wait. Theo suggested we should be looking for a teen with a B&E conviction—where he got his confidence—or even a locksmith now in training. He isn’t worried about how to get access without witnesses.”

“What you two have theorized about Wisconsin and Tammy,” Sharon said, picking up the summary, “makes a lot of sense for the trigger. He was successful with Jenna, that set a pattern in his mind, and he’s been re-creating that evening. The concert, the lifted driver’s license, being at the apartment ahead of them. He wants to experience it again. The cause of death for the last three makes it very likely Jenna was smothered too.”

“I think it’s worth noting that the two cases without bodies are the earliest two,” Evie said.

“He got tired of the whole process. Just dump the bodies somewhere they won’t immediately be found, move on,” David guessed. “We talked with Indiana PD at length about Virginia Fawn. They worked that case hard as an active homicide after finding the body. I assume the other two already discovered will have been worked in a similar fashion.”

“Yes,” Taylor replied, “I talked with Ohio on Emily Close, and Theo’s looked at Laura Ship. Forensics haven’t given further answers, so I don’t think we’re going to get a break there. The best hope right now is that when the lists from all five cases get crunched, there’s an overlap that will focus like a laser on someone, open a new line of inquiry.”

David nodded. “Jenna and Tammy are the cases among the five that haven’t been worked as hard. The theory that this guy lives in the Milwaukee area needs pushed hard.”

“We’re in agreement on that,” Sharon said.

“What are the odds we’re wrong on this grouping?” Evie wondered, studying the grid of case detail overlaps and differences. “Tammy’s the only one not attending college. We may have her on the board, and it’s not one of his—though he simply might not have known she wasn’t in college. But maybe Jenna and Tammy are his, and the other three with remains located are someone else’s crime. What do you think? Fifty-fifty we’ve just created a group that is a distraction, unrelated to what happened to Jenna?”

“I lean toward Jenna and someone before Jenna being linked,” Ann finally said into the silence. “I agree she doesn’t feel like a first crime. The three recovered bodies could easily be someone else’s doing. Tammy is an outlier. She disappeared two days after the concert, wasn’t in college, had a history of leaving without word. While your centering this guy in Milwaukee is a high probability, it’s also possible Tammy simply got into trouble after leaving home. You’re as likely to be looking at three separate groupings as you are at one person behind all five.”

Paul leaned forward in his chair. “There’s a Triple M concert connection that wasn’t seen before, and that needs investigation, whether it solves Jenna or not,” he put in. “I’m adding FBI manpower and resources for the three who were smothered, mostly to keep Indiana and Ohio cooperating with each other. Anything you need from my team, just ask. They’ll be your eyes and ears in other states.”

“Good. Thanks, Paul,” Sharon said.

“I’m inclined toward your not telling Maggie about this,” Paul said to David. “Keep it out of the press for as long as possible. If every famous person felt responsible for the crazies that come around, we’d have little good music or art.”

David smiled his agreement. “I do think music is the link, and it’s the link to him. The victims’ paths cross with him because of their mutual interest.”

“Let’s dig there on all five of our possible cases,” Evie proposed. “But we keep coming back to Jenna. She’s going to be the pivot point. She attended a Triple M concert and is missing her driver’s license, so if there is a grouping, she’s in it. Solve hers, we just might sort out which of these other cases are his.”

Sharon nodded. “Good. Evie, you keep your attention on Jenna. If we’re wrong about this connection in some way, we need you to find the right answer for her. David, push on the Triple M connection, as you’ve got the access to the info from Maggie’s world. Paul’s guys can take another look at the forensics from Indiana and Ohio, see if the recovered remains can offer any further clues. I’m guessing I’m within a week to ten days of wrapping up my case,” she added. “Theo and Taylor are even closer with theirs. We’ll join you to provide extra help as we get freed up, on this or on Saul’s disappearance.”

“Thanks. It’s a workable plan,” David said, the group’s nods mirroring his around the room.

Theo and Taylor headed out while Sharon, David, Ann, and Paul set themselves up around Evie’s desk, still kicking around ideas on how to proceed. Evie was getting ready to call it a day, but she found the discussion too fascinating to leave just yet.

“Can we get credit- and gas-card data going back nine years?” Sharon wondered. “If so, I think we can spot this guy by the fact we have five data points. He had to fill up with gas, the distance tells us that. And I doubt he’d make these trips entirely on cash. I also doubt he’s gone to the trouble of getting new cards. We know which highways he likely traveled to get to each concert, the gas stations where he might have stopped, and have basically a seven-day window on either side of these concert dates. It’s a gigantic data set that’s not likely to yield many false-positives—not if we can show a card name was used in Wisconsin eight years ago during a particular week and that name was used in Indiana six years ago during another specific week.”

“I’ll take on that inquiry,” Paul offered, “put a researcher on data we can still get access to and run the correlation.” He made himself a note and shifted his attention to David. “Do we want to do anything further about Maggie’s fan mail? FBI can take a look at the most troubling ones.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” David said. “I can source you the flagged emails quickly, make arrangements for the physical mail of concern to be sent back here from New York.”

Evie offered an observation that had been simmering during the last few hours. “The three bodies discovered were all smothered, no other signs of trauma or particular physical injuries beyond a bruise or two. Just suffocated and the body dumped somewhere not that far away. Does that seem odd to anyone else?”

“It does seem unusual,” David agreed. “Not violent, not sexual. It’s just . . . Shut up. Be quiet. I want you dead.”

Evie nodded. “It’s both personal and rather abrupt, and . . . it feels somehow female to me. I know men smother women, husbands do it to wives, boyfriends to girlfriends. And we’ve got three victims recovered who died that way, which indicates it’s the killer’s preferred method. But was Jenna’s like that, personal and abrupt? I haven’t been thinking that way for a motive with her, and yet it fits. And now I’m back to this not being a stranger crime, but someone who knew Jenna.”

“Candy’s more the type to take a swing at a rival than smother her,” Ann suggested. “But maybe it was someone of that general type, the don’t-like-Jenna crowd.” A pause, then, “Maybe what drew interest to Jenna was the opposite of what we’ve been assuming—it was dislike, rather than like.”

Evie pondered that idea and slowly nodded. “I’ll come back to that later, as it’s a really interesting idea. Jenna was chosen because someone didn’t like her. But for now, I’m wondering the opposite. Consider the other extreme. I wonder if Jenna opened the door to a friend that night, a girl who had a fight with a roommate, who says, ‘Can I sleep on your couch tonight?’ And in the middle of the night, upset girl walks into Jenna’s room and smothers her to death.”

“Ouch.”

“A bit of crazy going on, ‘Jenna the girl with a perfect life, and I can’t stand the fact my life is the opposite,’ so kill the perfect one.”

“It would have to be a rather strong girl to carry Jenna down a flight of stairs, to a vehicle, and get rid of her body,” David pointed out. “And you would most likely be looking at Jenna as a single crime, because I don’t see a crazy female driving to different states smothering other women—not doing it in a way that doesn’t get her caught.”

“True. Still,” Evie said, “I’m going to let that idea roll around in my mind for a while.”

David closed the case report he’d been reading. “We need tomorrow off, all of us, to get some actual rest.” Sharon was already nodding. “Come Monday we hit this fresh, correlating lists from the five cases, focusing on Milwaukee and the possibility he lives around there. We’re going to find the guy who did these crimes when we start to push in multiple places. He’s been smart, but the pattern is his weakness.”

“For Maggie’s sake alone, we have to nail this down,” Evie agreed. She pushed to her feet. “And on that note, I’m heading out. Thanks again, Ann.” She smiled at Paul. “Nice to have your help today too. David, text me if you think of anything urgent. I’ll plan to bring breakfast Monday morning.”

“Thanks. Night, Evie.”

She took two of the flowers from the vase and headed back to her hotel.

Four and a half hours of sleep was not enough. The phone was ringing into the darkness. With a groan, Evie reached for it, read the caller ID, clicked it on. “Lieutenant Blackwell.” She listened to the state dispatcher, rubbing aching eyes. “Tell him three hours. I’m on my way.”

She punched David’s speed-dial number.

“This can’t be good,” he answered.

She envied his ability to sound fully alert at such an hour. “An arson case with fatalities in Petersburg. I’m now multitasking.”

“Get someone to drive you.”

“Yeah.” She covered a large yawn. “Someone’s been hitting homes this way across the state for the last year. Anything other than this level, I’d be seeing if I could pass it on.”

“We’re going to be doing mostly data analysis for the next few days. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“I’m fine with someone else solving Jenna’s disappearance while I’m on something else. You get a lead, run with it. Catch this guy, David.”

“Done.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Good luck catching your arsonist.”

“He equally needs catching. I’ll be back as soon as practical.”

Evie called highway patrol to catch a lift with another cop heading south, looked around at her things once she was dressed, decided she would be near enough to her own place that she could make a run there to get clothes and a bed, and left her hotel room intact. Her car would be in Ellis while she was in Petersburg, but it couldn’t be helped.

Twenty minutes later, she walked out, turning her attention back to the Illinois State Police Bureau of Investigations position she’d spent a career working to earn.