12:45 p.m., Channel Six Studios

The fact that he was the chief of police with a job to do gave Dan no comfort when what he wanted right now more than anything in this world was to protect Jess from opening that damned bundle.

Every part of him howled with the need to do this himself, but Jess would never stand for it and with a unit from the Bomb Squad as well as a dozen other cops including evidence techs standing by, he couldn’t exactly argue with his newest deputy chief.

Deputy Chief Jess Harris had a job to do, too.

The building had been evacuated of Channel Six personnel, including Gina Coleman, who had argued the edict all the way out the door. The experts had examined the box intended for Jess and pronounced it free of incendiary materials and other destructive substances. That assessment made the package’s contents no less explosive.

Bones.

After a thorough analyzing, including digital X-rays and probing, the contents were deemed skeletal remains wrapped in disintegrating burlap and plastic.

Once placed on a trace sheet to ensure no evidence was lost, the bundle had been removed from the cardboard shipping box. With Harper standing on one side and an evidence tech on the other, Jess carefully opened the bundle of fabric. Dan and the rest of those gathered stayed back. The fewer bodies crammed around that table, the less likelihood of contaminating whatever evidence the package contained or represented.

The Channel Six security video showed the delivery was made to the station via UPS just after ten that morning. Detective Wells and Officer Cook had interviewed the clerks at the originating UPS Store. One clerk remembered the guy, who’d given his name as Smith Johnson. Johnson was old with thick-lensed glasses, thin gray hair, and a walking cane. His long sleeves and gloves despite the August heat wave hadn’t triggered the usual alarms. The clerk figured he was just an old man trying to avoid sun exposure.

The return address Johnson gave was just as bogus as the name he’d used.

Detective Wells was standing by at the UPS Store for a copy of the video footage from the security system.

A new rush of frustration rammed Dan. What the hell was Spears up to now? Had he dared to disguise himself and waltz into that store right here in Birmingham so he could personally mail this package to Jess? Wasn’t it enough that he was torturing her with potential victims?

More outrage threatened to consume Dan whenever he thought of the SOB, and it had to be wrestled back. If he was going to be any good to Jess or this department, he had to keep his emotions in check.

Harper and Jess exchanged a look, and Dan’s attention zeroed back in on the here and now. “Chief,” Harper said with a grim look in Dan’s direction, “you should call Deputy Chief Black.”

Black? Why would they need another cop on the scene? To hell with it. Dan strode to the table. Harper pointed to the newspaper article preserved in a small plastic sleeve that he had placed on the trace sheet next to pieces of crumpled newspaper and ragged burlap along with the first of several small human bones.

SEARCH CONTINUES FOR MISSING CHILD.

Recognition slammed Dan in the gut, and the blood in his veins went cold. Dorie Myers. “Jesus Christ.”

Jess stared up at him, her face showing the same shock and confusion he felt. “Do you know the name?”

The dread resonating in her voice made what he had to say all the more difficult. “A third grader who went missing twelve…” he shook his head “… no, thirteen years ago.”

“The Man in the Moon,” Harper said quietly.

God Almighty, this would rip open old wounds in this community that went back decades.

Jess’s breath caught. “Oh my God. I remember that case.”

Though she hadn’t lived here for the past twenty years she would remember the case from before… when she was a kid. Just as Dan did. Like anyone who had resided in or around Birmingham in those days would. He’d been almost ten when the first little girl went missing. His heart felt like a massive rock in his chest.

Twenty little girls had gone missing and were dubbed victims of the so-called Man in the Moon. For two decades he had struck every fall on the night of the harvest moon, like clockwork, and then, thirteen years ago, he suddenly stopped… with Dorie Myers.

This wasn’t Spears’s kind of evil, but it was the work of an equally ruthless monster.

BPD Conference Room, 4:00 p.m.

Mayor Joseph Pratt and all the division deputy chiefs lined the long table in the center of the room. The somber sound of Black’s voice filled the heavy air. Dan’s mind still reeled with this latest turn of events.

Deputy Chief Harold Black headed up Crimes Against Persons. Kidnappings and murders fell under his domain. For nine years after making detective with the Birmingham Police Department, Black had worked the Man in the Moon case. He knew the case. Knew the families involved. Had suffered as much as anyone when the monster couldn’t be found.

Dan stretched his neck and attempted to stay focused on Harold’s briefing. The man was not going to like it when he got the news that this case would not be his this time.

But the cold, hard truth was that all of Harold’s experience with the case couldn’t trump Jess’s uncanny instincts when it came to hunting down killers like the Man in the Moon. This killer or someone who knew him had reached out to Jess, so assigning SPU to handle the investigation was the only reasonable move. SPU had been created for precisely this sort of case. Equally important was the fact that Dan needed Harold working with the FBI on the Spears case as well as leading the investigation on Ted Allen’s disappearance. Harold couldn’t argue that rationale.

But he would.

“Why ‘Man in the Moon’?” Wells asked. “Was it because the missing children attributed to him all disappeared during a full moon?”

“That was part of it.” Harold stood in front of an elaborate case board he had put together in record time for this briefing. Photos of all twenty children suspected to be related to the case lined the board.

“Each year for approximately two decades a female child between the ages of seven and nine went missing on the night of the harvest or hunter’s moon, the full moon nearest the autumnal equinox,” he explained. “That particular full moon always seems closer to the earth. At some point there was a comment in the media about how it was almost as if the moon got so close to the earth that the man living there reached down and snatched a human child so he wouldn’t have to live alone.” Harold shrugged. “The legend stuck and the unknown perpetrator has been referred to in that way since.”

“Has this sudden delivery after all these years,” Mayor Pratt spoke up, “given us new evidence as to the identity of the monster we’re looking for?”

“Not yet, sir,” Harold admitted, “but our forensics personnel are still analyzing evidence. We hope to have something soon.”

Pratt grunted. “What do you propose to announce to the press?” he inquired with blatant skepticism. “This won’t stay under wraps long, I can guarantee you that. People have waited a very long time to know what happened to these children.” He surveyed the table, his attention landing lastly on Dan. “This department has enjoyed a lengthy reprieve from this monster but the people, particularly the families still seeking closure for their immense losses, will demand action. How do you intend to handle that, Chief Burnett?”

“This department,” Dan said emphatically, “will do what it always does—everything possible to find the person or persons responsible for these despicable acts. As soon as the remains are officially identified, the family will be contacted and we’ll make an announcement to the press. I hope to do that by six this evening.”

Pratt gave him a look that suggested he wasn’t convinced, then he shifted his holier-than-thou regard to the next unexpected aspect of this development. “Why was this package sent to Harris?” he asked, as if she weren’t in the room and he wasn’t looking straight at her. “She had nothing to do with this case. She wasn’t even here for the better part of the time frame we’re looking at.”

Before Dan could suggest there was rarely any logic to the acts of a deranged killer, Harold interjected, “I’m certain Chief Harris’s recent notoriety has garnered his attention. Sociopaths and psychopaths often crave that sort of attention. He most likely feels a connection of sorts with Chief Harris.” Harold presented an indulgent smile to Jess. “No offense intended, of course.”

“None taken,” Jess assured him. “I’m sure you’ll have your own fan club one day.”

Dan scrubbed a hand over his jaw, mostly to cover the smile her comeback aroused but also to prevent telling Harold to sit down and shut up. “Considering his probable age”—Dan directed this at Harold—“it’s possible he’s suffering health issues and has decided to reveal himself through the highest-profile deputy chief in the department.”

Harold’s posture stiffened. One day the man would learn to play nice with Jess.

“I hate to disagree with the two of you,” Jess said, as she divided her attention between them, “but I sincerely doubt either of those scenarios.”

Silence expanded in the room. Just like old times. What was a briefing without a standoff between Jess and Harold? Or Jess and everyone else in the room, for that matter? How that made him love her all the more was a mystery.

“Well,” Harold said, waving his hand in invitation, “I’m quite certain we’d all like to hear your analysis, Chief Harris.”

“Since I had little time to review the case, my impressions are based primarily on what I’ve heard here today.” Jess adjusted her glasses and surveyed the case board. “If these abductions, only one each year over a two-decade span, are indeed the work of a single perpetrator, then he is incredibly disciplined. He has likely led a normal life within the community. Married with kids and grandchildren.” She shrugged. “He has shown no desire to draw attention to his work in the past. If all the cases are indeed connected to him and he’s still alive—”

“They are all connected to him,” Harold interrupted.

“By date alone?” Jess challenged. “How many other children went missing during those same years? Children of the same age group,” she pressed, “and with no clues left behind as to why they were taken? Timing alone is a skimpy link, Chief.”

“Your points carry merit,” Harold agreed, his back still ramrod straight and his expression no less skeptical of Jess’s opinion.

Dan waited for the other shoe to drop.

“But only one child in a one-hundred-mile radius around this city went missing precisely on the night of the harvest moon each and every one of those years. Coincidence?” He held his hands out, palms up. “Perhaps.”

Jess acknowledged his move with a dip of her head. “Then again, after the third or fourth year, the media made a big to-do about the harvest moon connection. Copycats love to capitalize on that kind of attention.” She looked around the table, confident in her assessment. “Whatever we think we know, it’s our job to dig deeper and find the elements that connect the victims to the person or persons who chose that date to do his dirty little deeds. Bottom line, we need a motive. Was he lonely? Satisfying sadistic sexual urges? Are we dealing with one perpetrator or several? Can we adequately connect all of those cases? We have a lot of questions and not nearly enough answers.”

While Jess and Harold continued their debate, Harper slipped out of the room. Dan’s instincts went on point. He hoped the detective was seeking privacy for an update from the forensic techs. They could damn sure use a break about now. So far they had three decades of nothing except missing little girls and no clues.

“Who’s lead on this case?” Pratt demanded, evidently weary of the back-and-forth between the deputy chiefs. He glared at Dan. “We need forward momentum, not this pointless rehashing and butting of heads.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Dan had intended to discuss this with Harold in private. So much for keeping the peace in the department. Since all eyes shifted to Dan, there was no getting around making that announcement here and now.

The door opened and Harper returned. He walked straight to Dan and passed a note before taking his seat.

As he read the words Harper had scrawled on the page, Dan’s throat went dry.

He’d read the words twice before the silence in the room dragged him from the haze of disbelief. “The forensic techs have been analyzing and dissecting the packaging used for delivering the remains to Channel Six. The perp left us a note by circling letters and words on the pages of the newspapers.”

Reluctance and more of that frustration coiled deep in his gut. “Hello, Jess.” Dan’s gaze connected with hers. “We’re all waiting for you to find us.”

The pain on Jess’s face ripped open his chest a little wider. How the hell could this happen? Another killer wanted to play games with her?

“How do you intend to proceed, Chief Harris?” Pratt demanded. “Obviously the decision as to who will be lead on this case has been made. This monster wants you to find him and his victims.”

“This year’s harvest moon will be on September nineteenth,” Detective Wells offered when no one else in the room seemed able to find their voice.

Before Jess could answer, Tara Morgan cracked the door open and stuck her head in the room. Dan motioned for her to come on in as the debate between Harold and Jess reignited, a little hotter this time. Tara lingered near the door rather than coming to the table, the signal loud and clear. She had news to relay that she didn’t want the others to hear. Dan didn’t bother excusing himself from the table. He doubted anyone would notice.

As soon as he reached her, Tara leaned close and whispered, “Chief, there are…” she chewed her lip a second before she said the rest “… people in the lobby demanding to see you. I told them you were in a briefing, but they won’t take no for an answer.”

“People?” Confusion jumped into the mix of frustration and worry churning inside him. “Reporters?”

Tara shook her head. “Parents of some of the—” she nodded toward the case board “—children.”

A press briefing was tentatively scheduled for six. Nothing about this investigation was supposed to be released to the public until then. A wave of fury gave his gut a twist. “How many, Tara? How many parents are we talking about?”

“Four.” She gave him the names.

“Okay. Show them to my office.” His cell vibrated. Bloody hell. If there was more news like this he could do without it. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he assured her.

To tell them what?

The cell phone in his pocket started that damned vibrating again. He checked the screen. Gina. She’d better have one hell of an excuse for this breach of trust.

It was one thing to hold a press briefing to inform the public that remains from a cold case had been discovered and to assure the citizens that the BPD was on top of the matter. It was entirely another to inform the parents of victims before remains were properly identified. Gina had given her word that she wouldn’t release a word until he gave her the go-ahead.

Now he would have to deliver the heartbreaking news that they had nothing… except the promise of more anguish to come.