NINETEEN

Noah watched as Kaely hurried out of the room. What was she doing? Was he supposed to follow her? He decided to wait where he was. He began to pick up the files scattered across the table. He inserted reports and pictures that had fallen out and started putting the folders in a pile. Going through the files was tough. He wished he could wash his brain of the images he’d seen. He still couldn’t grasp how Kaely handled all this horror, no matter what she’d said.

Part of him wished he could accept this God stuff. Kaely was right. His wife, Tracy, had believed in God. He’d even gone to church with her. When she got sick, she was convinced God would heal her. But she died. If anyone should have lived, it was Tracy. She was the best person he’d ever met. Kind, generous to a fault, and always so positive. Why would God let her die and leave all the really rotten people behind? What about these serial killers? Why were they alive while Tracy’s life had been snuffed out? It made no sense. No. This was just another one of Kaely Quinn’s imaginary devices to make it through life.

He was putting the last file on the stack when the door to the conference room burst open with so much force it made him jump.

“Not all serial killers are famous, you know,” Kaely said. “You knew about George Anderson because the FBI was involved in bringing him down. But most people wouldn’t recognize his name.”

“You’ve thought of someone else?”

“Exactly.” She came over and slapped a file down in front of him.

“More files from your office?” Noah asked.

“Yeah.” She opened the file she’d tossed in front of him. “Barton Kennedy. I helped on this case while I was at Quantico.”

“And you assisted on George Anderson?”

“Yes. I’ve been involved in lots of serial killer cases since I joined the Bureau. Most people have no idea how many serial murderers there really are. They don’t all get national attention.”

“So who is Barton Kennedy?” Noah asked.

Kaely slid into the chair next to him and pointed at the folder she’d brought with her. “Kennedy was an abused kid who decided to take out his bad childhood on other people, especially people who reminded him of his mother. He loved her, but she never tried to protect him against his violent and twisted father. Eventually, he killed both his parents and took off, leaving a path of death in his wake. He was captured after four additional murders. It got some attention from the media, but it never got the kind of press Williams or Bundy got.”

“Why is that?”

“It took eight years for him to murder his victims. I think the slow pace wasn’t what the press wanted. Like I said, a few mentions, but that was it.”

“But what is it about this guy that reminds you of the poem?”

“Kennedy dumped his victims in Lake Michigan. Every one of them except his second victim.”

“But why do you think our killer will pattern himself off this model?”

Kaely exhaled. “Because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me at this point. Am I sure this is the case he’ll use? No. But we should look into it. I’d rather do something than nothing.”

She began sorting through the file, pulling out pictures. “These are the four women he killed and dumped in the lake. Each woman had blond hair like his mother. They were bound, hands and feet. Hog-tied. He did that because he wanted to dominate them.”

Noah gazed quickly at the pictures, his stomach turning over. Bodies that spent time in water were disturbing—and these pictures certainly qualified. He watched Kaely as she spread the photos out in front of them. Her expression never changed. How could she not react to these images? Maybe she had more in common with her father than he wanted to believe.

Even as the thought popped into his mind, he rejected it. There was substance to Kaely Quinn. Something special. Something rare. He wanted to understand her—yet he didn’t know how close he could allow himself to get. He knew instinctively that he had to keep his defenses up. There was danger in those dark, bottomless eyes.

“So what does this tell us?” he said, pushing one of the pictures back toward her.

Kaely flipped through several of the reports in the file. Then she pointed at something. “Here,” she said. “This is what I was trying to remember. We narrowed the body dump area to Silver Lake in Silver Lake State Park. The lake consists of four miles of Lake Michigan shoreline. Once we narrowed the area and completed our profile, it wasn’t long before we found Kennedy. He actually worked at the park. Made it easier for him. The profile was so spot-on, park administrators told us it sounded just like Barton.”

“You said he dumped all the bodies in Lake Michigan except the second one. What happened with that body?”

“He had the body in the back of his car, but a police car was patrolling the area that night. It spooked him so much he took the body out of the state. He drove to . . .” Kaely stopped suddenly and her eyes grew large. “He’s going out of state.” She frowned, dropped the file, and pulled her laptop in front of her. Noah watched as she typed Silver Lake into the search engine. When the choices came up, she shook her head. Then she added Illinois into the search. This time, when the different selections came up, Kaely gasped. “This is it,” she said, clicking on something and turning the screen toward Noah. “Silver Lake Park. Highland, Illinois. It’s only forty minutes from here. I think this is where the next body will be found.”

Noah wanted to believe she was right, but was Kaely grasping at straws? “Why do you think we’re going to find the next body in Illinois?”

“Because this is his second killing and he’s copying Barton Kennedy. Kennedy needed another Silver Lake Park. The nearest he could find was a Silver Lake golf course near Chicago. That’s where he dumped the body.” As if she could read his mind, which in retrospect, she probably could, she said, “I know you think it’s a long shot, Noah, but I believe this guy is stuck on patterns. On details. Call it a hunch, but I think he’s compelled to copy Barton’s second killing. That means the body will be in another state. Illinois is just over the river. He could still stay close to his comfort zone.”

“But if he follows his pattern exactly, he’ll kill someone here and transport the body. . . .”

Kaely stared at him. “Still means we’ll find the body in Illinois.” She shook her head as she chewed her lip. “It feels right. We’ve got to follow it up.”

Noah had just opened his mouth to respond when the door to the conference room swung open and Grace walked into the room. “You two need to report to Solomon. We have a problem.” The look on her face made Noah’s stomach lurch. He looked over at Kaely. He saw the apprehension in her expression.

Had they been outplayed again?

He watched them work the crime scene. He realized he shouldn’t have taken a chance they’d notice him. Wasn’t it something profilers looked for? Killers who couldn’t stay away from their work?

He’d left the body in the water near a dock, not because he wanted to, but because he needed her to be found right away. He couldn’t afford to let her sink and only show up after it was too late to read the message he’d left behind. He walked slowly back to his car, trying not to garner attention. He laughed softly to himself. This was really much easier than he’d thought it would be. Kaely Quinn could be defeated. She wasn’t the genius so many believed her to be.

He wondered what she was thinking. Did she understand he’d issued a challenge? Did she feel the darkness creeping closer? Could she sense that her judgment day was approaching?

He smiled. Now for the next one.

Solomon sighed as Kaely and Noah left his office, headed for Silver Lake Park in Illinois. A body had been found there. When it was pulled out of the water, the police found a note under the woman’s jacket. Encased in a plastic bag and pinned to her blouse, it was a drawing of an elephant with a number 2 written inside.

Even though Kaely had been quiet when he told them about the discovery, Solomon knew her well enough to see that she blamed herself. Felt that if she’d figured things out faster, the woman might still be alive. Solomon doubted it. He was pretty sure no one else could have narrowed it down to the right location. This UNSUB was smart. And he was purposely staying in front of them.

Solomon didn’t want Reinhardt to find out what had happened, but he knew he’d hear about it. Especially since CIRG was coming in to help their investigation. All he could do was pray Reinhardt wouldn’t work against them.

He had a couple of calls to make. He’d wanted to send ERT to the crime scene, but he had to get permission from their local field office. Since the crime was so close to St. Louis and they were already handling the case, he was pretty sure the local office would agree. First he needed to call Jackie Cross. He had no idea when this killing would hit the papers, but he needed to warn her. Once again, they’d appeal for time to collect evidence and study the murder. Try to get the elephant component kept quiet. Not that the Journal would listen, but Jackie would try to get them whatever space she could. She’d also need to talk to someone from the Public Affairs Office at FBI headquarters since this could become a high-profile, national interest case.

Solomon hoped he wouldn’t have to make too many more of these calls. They needed to put a stop to this piece of human garbage. Each murder brought him closer and closer to Kaely. And at this point, Solomon was afraid the UNSUB was winning.