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Undercover Hunter(60)

By:Rachel Lee


                “This acceleration thing. He’s accelerated hugely compared to five years ago. Maybe it’s not just the result of a pent-up need. What if he’s been hunting elsewhere all this time? There’s nothing in the file to indicate one way or another. I assumed it was because there were no similar crimes, but maybe...”

                Their eyes locked, and for once when they did she noticed something besides how amazing his eyes were.

                “Hell,” he said, and rose, striding back to the kitchen. After a moment she followed him. She didn’t have to hear much before she realized he was talking to the FBI at Quantico. Tugging the blanket tight around her shoulders, she forced herself to wait while he described what they had to someone on the other end.

                Lew, he mouthed to her as he listened.

                She remembered Lew Boulard. He’d been one of her teachers at Quantico, and she’d always thought him amazingly levelheaded. Nor was he overrun by ego, which she thought too many profilers were. He didn’t let anything get in the way of clear thinking.

                “Thanks, Lew,” Cade said finally. “Let me know. Yeah, this is the best number right now. A snowstorm has shut down everything that isn’t hardwired.”

                He hung up. “Lew was working late. He’s gonna start a database search for us. Victim type, missing persons reports, et cetera. He said it’ll take a while, maybe until morning.”

                “I wish we could fax him the photos.”

                “Maybe tomorrow if he needs them.”

                DeeJay looked down, her mind still racing in circles. Then something popped out. “Spiders don’t all hunt, do they? I mean, I know some do, but most rely on a web and patience. Victims come to them.”

                She looked up and found Cade staring at her. “Holy hell,” he said. “They come to him.”

                “But how?”

                He threw up a hand. “Think about it, DeeJay. You were right when you said we were assuming the flat tire was linked to that last boy’s disappearance. That was a leap we shouldn’t have made. Like you said, coincidences happen. How, you asked, could the killer know that boy was going to be waiting for a ride? But if a spider weaves a web, the food comes to him, gets stuck and can’t escape.”

                Her heart started hammering. She let the blanket slide from her shoulders and rose to start pacing. “So he could be luring them somehow. Just like a spider. Then when they get too close, he’s got them. It’s possible. There sure as hell is no one left to talk about it.”

                “Exactly. So assume for argument’s sake that he gains their confidence. I’m sure kids around here are given the same stranger warnings they get everywhere else. Besides, he was in this county once before, so he may not be a stranger. That’s been a question from the outset. A stranger would stick out around here.”

                “Right,” she agreed. “So they either know him or meet him under circumstances that create trust of some kind. The kind of trust that might get them into a vehicle with him or to his house, wherever that is. So he flattens a tire, tells the last boy that his dad is broken down and he’s going to give him a ride instead.”

                “And the kid isn’t afraid of him. Doesn’t even find it strange. Ergo, our victims know him from somewhere.”

                “That was a possibility from the outset,” she reminded him as she extended her pacing from the small kitchen to the living room. Soon Cade was pacing right along with her.